Never Forget (GL) - Chapter 1

In June, the weather turned on a dime. The daytime heat was suffocating, but by evening, strong winds whipped through the streets, and the sky was so heavy with dark clouds, it looked like it might collapse at any moment.

Ye Zhuyi took a few steps and moved under the shelter behind the nanny van, shielding herself from the wind as she pulled out a cigarette. Just as she brought her lighter close to her lips, her hand froze midair.

A shrill, flirtatious female voice carried through the wind and into her ears.

“Did you really get together with Qin-god after playing CP in Cold Night? The media said you two had real sparks!”

“Hey, not so loud!”

The voices were familiar—she’d heard them often while filming recently. Based on the topic and their tone, it wasn’t hard to guess who they were.

One of them was Sui Xuan, the top-tier actress and female lead of the drama they’d just wrapped. She was the only one in the cast who had worked with Qin Zhizhen. The other sounded like the web celebrity who played the third female lead—Ye Zhuyi couldn’t recall her name. All she knew was that the girl had brought in investment to join the cast, which was why her screen time far exceeded Ye Zhuyi’s, who was officially the second lead.

Ye Zhuyi frowned, slipped the lighter into her jeans pocket, and took the unlit cigarette out of her mouth, holding it in her palm.

The spot she stood in was fairly hidden, so the two hadn’t noticed her. Thinking no one else was around, they resumed their chat.

“So is it true or not?” the web celeb pushed. “You guys actually dated?”

“Nope. Almost, though,” Sui Xuan replied, sounding pleased with herself. Her voice turned airy. “You know how it is—I’m at the peak of my career. I’ve got to think about the bigger picture.”

Ye Zhuyi lowered her head, staring at the white tops of her sneakers. Her long hair fell gently across her shoulders. The cigarette in her hand had been crushed soft from her grip.

“It’s Qin Zhizhen we’re talking about!” the web celeb exclaimed, baffled. “She’s gorgeous, cool, loaded—and backed by the Qin family. Everyone wants a way in! What’s there to think about?”

“Hehe, you don’t know the half of it. Qin Zhizhen is—huh? I think it’s starting to rain. We’ll talk later!”

The sharp clatter of heels on pavement quickly faded. Summer rain came fast and hard. Within moments, the light drizzle had become a downpour. All Ye Zhuyi could hear was the roar of the rain.

A while passed before Ye Zhuyi let out a quiet sigh. She opened her hand—her nails were long, shaped into almonds for a role. Her fingers were slender and fair, and the cigarette lay there bent and crumpled.

A hand reached out and plucked the cigarette from her palm.

“You’re smoking again? How many times do I have to tell you—quit already!”

The sharp female voice rang out beside her ear. Ye Zhuyi glanced at the hand in the air, then rubbed her ear and said calmly, “I didn’t light it.”

She turned her head and saw her agent, Ke Shu, who had rushed back from out of town just for her wrap party. She looked exhausted, her delicate makeup unable to hide the fatigue.

After Ye Zhuyi’s girl group disbanded, she transitioned to acting, and Xingyao Entertainment assigned her to Ke Shu. Among Ke Shu’s three artists, Ye Zhuyi wasn’t the most popular, but Ke Shu treated her just as well.

“I was about to, but then I remembered your advice and stopped,” Ye Zhuyi added, eyes lowered.

The cigarette hadn’t been lit—just crushed. Ke Shu sighed and tossed it into a nearby trash can. Her tone softened. “I’m only doing this for your own good.”

“I know,” Ye Zhuyi said with a gentle smile. “Thanks, Jie.”

Ke Shu turned to look at her. Under the shelter, Ye Zhuyi stood tall and graceful.

Her chestnut hair cascaded to her chest, the ends slightly curled. She wore no makeup, her complexion pale as jade. Her eyes were like clear water, with a subtle upward tilt at the corners. Her nose was straight and defined, her lips full and naturally red. Her features were sharp and sculpted, like a living enchantress. And yet, her overall vibe was cool and distant. When she was silent, she felt unapproachable, but when she smiled, dimples appeared on her cheeks, softening her look into something innocent and delicate. Back in her girl group days, her dancing on stage had been fierce and full of energy.

She embodied contradictions—but on her, they felt perfectly natural.

Ye Zhuyi had debuted through a talent show. That contrast of hers—the coolness with flashes of warmth—won her many fans, especially women who didn’t hesitate to spend money on her. Despite having no agency or backing, they helped her land in the top three.

In the end, the show picked four winners instead of three, forming the girl group Astar. The show was a hit, and the group rode that momentum to stardom. But as more boy and girl groups flooded the market, their fame began to fade. When their contract expired last year, none of the four renewed—they each went their own way.

Ye Zhuyi had built up a solid fan base from Astar. After leaving the group and entering film, she climbed to the third tier in just a year. She wasn’t Ke Shu’s most popular artist, nor the most obedient, but she was the youngest, the hardest working, and—most importantly—she had real acting talent.

Most idol-turned-actors struggled with awkward performances due to lack of experience. But Ye Zhuyi had natural talent. Her first-ever drama earned her a Best Supporting Actress nomination. That was no small feat.

Talent was rare. Without it, Ke Shu might’ve dropped her already.

In nearly seven years as an agent, Ke Shu had seen a lot—but none as unreadable as Ye Zhuyi.

She didn’t seem ambitious, yet worked harder than anyone. No matter how tough things got, she never complained.

Ke Shu once asked her what her dream was.

Without hesitation, Ye Zhuyi had said, “To win Best Actress.”

Ke Shu had been thrilled, thinking she might ride her to gold-agent status. With Ye Zhuyi’s looks and ability, all she needed was a bit of luck.

But on the flip side, she was also too chill. She refused to use scandals to gain attention, wouldn’t flatter or suck up to people, and didn’t even blink when her scenes got stolen.

In this industry, without backing or hype, trying to make it on talent alone was an uphill battle.

That thought soured Ke Shu’s mood even more. Her tone dropped. “Let’s get in the car.”

Ye Zhuyi raised her brow slightly, then nodded.

As assistant Xiao Qiao opened the car door, Ye Zhuyi leaned closer and quietly asked, “Why is Ke-jie in a bad mood?”

Xiao Qiao had picked Ke Shu up earlier—she likely knew.

“Scene dispute didn’t go well,” Xiao Qiao replied in her usual concise manner.

She was two years older than Ye Zhuyi, tall and slim, with an androgynous face but a high-pitched, doll-like voice. Other actresses had mocked her for it before, so she’d become quiet over time.

Nearly all of Ye Zhuyi’s second-lead scenes had been taken by the web celeb who brought investment. Ke Shu had argued with the director and screenwriter over it—but in this industry, money always won. Nothing came of it.

No wonder Ke Shu’s attitude toward her had turned cold.

A faint dimple appeared on Ye Zhuyi’s pale cheek. “Thanks.”

Xiao Qiao caught a whiff of Ye Zhuyi’s light bamboo-scented perfume, glanced at her, then softly replied, “It’s nothing,” and got into the driver’s seat.

Back in the van, Ye Zhuyi poured a cup of water from a thermos and handed it to Ke Shu.

Ke Shu stared at the thermos for a second, then took the cup and sipped. The temperature was perfect—not too hot.

The water soothed her throat and her mood a bit. She handed the cup back, opened her iPad, and swiped through the schedule. “You’ve got a few days off. Filming was tough. Rest up while you can.”

Ye Zhuyi smiled sweetly and nodded. “Got it. Thank you, Ke-jie.”

Ke Shu chuckled, clearly pleased.

By the time the car reached Ye Zhuyi’s apartment, the rain had stopped. She got out, waved goodbye with a smile, and then watched the van drive away.

The moment it disappeared, her smile faded, her eyes dull and lifeless.

She showered and collapsed into her soft bed, exhausted—but no matter how she tossed and turned, sleep wouldn’t come. The conversation between Sui Xuan and the web celeb played in her mind on a loop, like an annoying song stuck on repeat.

“Nope. Almost, though.”

Ye Zhuyi sat up abruptly and grabbed a pillow, hurling it across the room.

It landed on the carpet with a dull thud.

Her chest heaved. She swung her legs off the bed, walked to the desk, sat down, and turned on her laptop.

She stared at the screen for a long time before placing her hand on the mouse.

In the dead silence of night, the clicks of the mouse and keyboard echoed clearly.

It wasn’t until dawn that she finally shut the laptop. Her eyelids felt like lead. She dragged herself to bed, wrapped herself in her blanket like a cocoon, and within seconds, sleep swept her away like a wave.

Who knows how long she slept before her phone rang cheerfully?

A pale hand reached out from the blankets and groped for the phone. Ye Zhuyi squinted at the screen—her old Astar group chat was calling.

They’d trained and competed together, then spent two years glued at the hip during promotions, recordings, and shows. After the disbandment, they’d each gone their own way, but their bond had stayed strong.

She accepted the voice call, turned on the speaker, and tossed the phone aside, eyes still closed. “What’s up, ladies?”

“Yaoyao! Have you checked Weibo? We’re trending!” Yu Wei’s bright voice chirped. “God, the last time we trended was when Astar disbanded, right?”

That woke Ye Zhuyi up a little. She yawned. “Last time was when the captain showed up at your concert.”

Song Murang cleared her throat awkwardly. “This time it’s different. The group is trending.”

Now that was strange. Ye Zhuyi flipped over lazily. “Why the hell are we trending?”

Nothing big had happened lately.

Song Murang explained, “It started when Surprised Magpie’s official account announced Qin Zhizhen as the lead actress—it hit number one on the hot search. Then, out of nowhere, a video editor’s account started trending.”

Ye Zhuyi’s eyes snapped open.

Huajin chimed in for the first time, “Video editor?”

“Yeah. Their name is “Did Zhenzhen Top Today?” Song Murang said, laughing. “Their whole page is edited by Yaoyao and Qin-God, complete with plotlines.”

Yu Wei cackled, “Total ship fuel. Super gay~”

Wrapped tight in her blanket, Ye Zhuyi wrestled free, her forehead beading with sweat.

Song Murang chuckled and continued, “Since the video featured Yaoyao, people linked it to Astar. Then ‘Current Status of Astar Members’ hit number two on the trending list.”

“That’s wild,” Huajin said. “I want to know who this editing genius is.”

Ye Zhuyi found her tablet and opened Weibo. Her gaze landed on the red notification badge in the corner. Her long lashes trembled.

She raised both hands and covered her face, letting out a soft, despairing sigh between her fingers.

Her teammates couldn’t see her, nor hear the sigh.

Song Murang teased, “Maybe it’s one of Yaoyao’s fans.”

Back during the group’s variety shows, Ye Zhuyi had openly said she admired Qin Zhizhen—and had even described her as her ideal type.

Her fans, the “Bamboo Shoots,” had once made a fanbook of her and Qin Zhizhen together. But when Qin Zhizhen’s fans mocked her for riding coattails, they stopped.

Huajin scoffed, “The ‘Zhen-Sticks’ were so self-righteous back then. Now they’re all saying, ‘Wow, this ship is hot.’ Hypocrites.”

The other two laughed.

Ye Zhuyi’s temple throbbed with the sound.

Just then, a call came in, cutting the laughter short. She glanced at the caller ID and winced.

She picked up. Ke Shu got straight to the point: “I submitted your resume to the Surprised Magpie team earlier. They got back to us. The audition’s the day after tomorrow. Come to the office this afternoon—Xiao Qiao will pick you up at one.”

Ye Zhuyi’s heart nearly burst from her chest. She licked her lips and forced herself to stay calm. “Ke-jie, do you know what role I’m auditioning for?”

“Second female lead—Shen Manqing.”

Her breath hitched.

She was going to act in a movie… with Qin Zhizhen?!

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