No One Knows [Rebirth] - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: You’ve Never Heard of Me…

Qin Yu got her phone, changed out of her hospital gown, and ignored Chen Shuang’s attempts to stop her as she checked herself out of the hospital.

She wore a loose black hoodie, the oversized brim of the hood obscuring half her face, while a black mask covered the lower half of her face completely.

Qin Yu first called Tang Ruibai’s manager, Liu Ke, but there was still no answer. She then called Tang Ruibai’s assistant, Guan Fei. After a long time, the call was picked up, only for Guan Fei to tell her: “I resigned, Yu-jie.”

Only then did Qin Yu realize that Guan Fei had already left nearly two years ago.

As expected, she had overlooked many things related to Tang Ruibai.

Qin Yu drove to Liu Ke’s home and pressed the doorbell multiple times without a response. Finally, at one o’clock in the morning, Liu Ke stepped out of the elevator. Seeing Qin Yu dressed all in black, she was startled and immediately retreated back toward the elevator.

Qin Yu took off her hood and mask, her eyes red as she called out: “Liu-jie, it’s me.”

Liu Ke stood there staring at her, the orange light of the hallway making her face look pale and ghastly. It wasn’t until the sound of the elevator doors closing snapped Liu Ke back to reality. She stepped out of the elevator again, walked over to scan her fingerprint, and let Qin Yu inside.

For the past two days, Liu Ke had been busy not only with Tang Ruibai’s funeral arrangements but also with the remaining contracts Tang Ruibai had left behind. But Tang Ruibai hadn’t really left much; the things she was supposed to film or promote were already finished.

The main concern was her funeral.

Liu Ke had more than one artist under her wing, but Tang Ruibai was currently the one with the most buzz and the one she had the best relationship with. Regarding the matter between Tang Ruibai and Qin Yu, Liu Ke knew a fair bit.

As for Qin Yu showing up at her door, Liu Ke naturally understood the reason. After pouring Qin Yu a glass of water, she brought out Tang Ruibai’s medical records.

Four months ago, she had just undergone surgery for a gastric perforation. One month ago, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. While she appeared radiant in front of people, she was suffering unspeakable pain behind the scenes.

Tang Ruibai had even gone for chemotherapy, yet Qin Yu still couldn’t believe it: “She went for chemo… did she not know that breast cancer can be treated with surgery? It’s very treatable. Why didn’t she tell me?”

Liu Ke paused for a moment: “Perhaps her heart had already died, which is worse than physical sorrow.”

Qin Yu shook her head: “No. She isn’t the type of person who would choose suicide. This is a murder case. Even if… she wanted to commit suicide, she would have left me a message.”

Liu Ke reached into the deepest part of a drawer and pulled out a letter. “Xiao Tang left this for you.”

On the envelope were three large characters—To: Qin Yu.

Qin Yu’s hand trembled as she touched the letter, but she eventually opened it. On the stationery, there was only one sentence:

“Qin Yu, goodnight.”

It was as if she were simply a bit tired and had decided to sleep, wishing herself a goodnight. It was just like the habit they had kept for all those years; no matter how late it was, they had to say goodnight before sleeping. Even if they were filming late into the night, they would send a “goodnight” at the moment they closed their eyes.

Those four words became a switch for Qin Yu’s emotions. Her fingertips stroked the paper, nearly crumpling it.

Liu Ke didn’t look at the contents of the letter, but she knew it likely wasn’t very long; Tang Ruibai was not someone who dragged things out.

Tears fell from Qin Yu’s reddened eyes, and she pressed the paper against her hollow, aching chest. Tang Ruibai always wrote the character “Yu” (毓) stroke by stroke with much more patience than Qin Yu.

The silent weeping lasted for an unknown amount of time. When Qin Yu finally raised her head, Liu Ke met her gaze in silence.

“The matter of her illness… did only you know?” Qin Yu asked again.

Liu Ke nodded, then shook her head. “I only found out a week ago.”

Tang Ruibai had kept the matter strictly hidden. Even Liu Ke had found out by accident. Furthermore, Liu Ke said in a heavy voice: “She found it difficult to fall asleep as far back as two years ago; she had to rely on sleep aids.”

“Two years ago?” Qin Yu was stunned again.

That was before they had divorced. But at that time, she had already become a household name thanks to Yebai, becoming a highly sought-after Best Actress. Qin Yu’s schedule had been packed to the brim; the longest she and Tang Ruibai had gone without seeing each other was three and a half months. She was even so tired that she didn’t have time to send a goodnight message to Tang Ruibai before sleeping.

Sometimes while resting in the car, she would take out her phone to message Tang Ruibai, but before she could finish typing two words, she would have already fallen into a deep sleep. By the time she appeared before the camera again, she was back to being the gentle, polite, and smiling actress.

Liu Ke hummed in affirmation: “Severe depression, moderate anxiety.”

Qin Yu felt as if she had been punched squarely in the heart. She hadn’t known any of this about Tang Ruibai. She thought Tang Ruibai was doing well—at least better than herself, who was so busy her feet barely touched the ground and couldn’t even squeeze out time for sleep.

She never expected…

SLAP—

Qin Yu raised her hand and gave herself a hard slap across the face. What had she been doing all these years?

Liu Ke was startled. Seeing Qin Yu like this made her feel quite uncomfortable. She sighed softly: “It’s better this way; she is finally free.”

Qin Yu asked dully: “Then what about me?”

Liu Ke remained silent, unable to offer a response.

Qin Yu couldn’t get an answer from the mouth of a bystander; only Tang Ruibai could tell her. But Tang Ruibai was dead. She would never be able to get an answer from Tang Ruibai’s mouth.

Why didn’t Tang Ruibai tell her? Why was Tang Ruibai so determined to divorce? And why did Tang Ruibai choose to leave in such a resolute manner?

There were too many “whys,” but Qin Yu couldn’t ask any of them. From the day she and Tang Ruibai divorced, she no longer had the right to ask about Tang Ruibai’s affairs. Since they didn’t even have children, the emotional bond between them had vanished into thin air the moment they signed their names on the “Divorce Agreement.”

Between them, there were no ties and no burdens.

Qin Yu sat on the sofa in Liu Ke’s home for a long while, then, as if resigning to fate, asked about the funeral arrangements.

Liu Ke was only three years older than Tang Ruibai, but she was rigorous and organized in her work; she had even produced a printed version of the funeral itinerary. Tang Ruibai was a very low-profile artist, so her funeral was also very modest.

However, her guests for the condolences included fans. This was something Tang Ruibai had mentioned in the letter she wrote to Liu Ke before she died; she had always remembered the fans who had accompanied her all the way from her days of obscurity. Tang Ruibai had even prepared exquisite souvenirs for them.

It was being handled almost like a wedding.

Hearing this, Qin Yu also found it somewhat ironic; it truly resembled the wedding procedures they used to talk about when they were bored. Sadly, they had divorced without ever having held a single wedding ceremony.

Qin Yu stayed at Liu Ke’s house until 3:30 AM, then put on her hoodie and mask to leave.

It was raining when she came out. Qin Yu stood under the dim yellow light and lit a cigarette. She didn’t smoke it, letting the smoke drift away with the wind.

Qin Yu searched for all the illnesses Tang Ruibai had suffered before her death. By the time she finished reading, her entire being felt numb. After the cigarette burned out, she drove aimlessly for a while, eventually driving back to the home she and Tang Ruibai once shared.

After the divorce, the villa was left to Tang Ruibai, but Tang Ruibai moved out shortly after. Even in death, she didn’t die in their former home.

Qin Yu hadn’t been back for a long time; when she entered, she was met with a nose full of dust. But she walked through every corner of the house, feeling as if she could see Tang Ruibai everywhere.

In the past, she always thought there was still a chance. Even when she and Tang Ruibai divorced, that dull pain only hit her after a long delay. It wasn’t like now—the sharp, piercing pain felt like it was tearing her entire person apart.

Qin Yu walked to the bedroom and sat on the uncleaned bed. The lights in the room were off. She sat there just like that until dawn.

By the time she snapped out of it, the outside was a misty haze, and rain traced winding paths on the glass. Qin Yu stood up to leave, but stopped at the door, her gaze falling beneath the bed.

A notebook with a blue cover—it had probably been accidentally dropped when Tang Ruibai moved out.

Qin Yu picked it up and brushed off the dust. She wasn’t particularly fastidious about cleanliness, but she usually wasn’t this “unceremonious” either. On the other hand, Tang Ruibai had a obsession with cleanliness; she would take two or three baths in the summer, and the house always had to be spotless.

The pages of the notebook were somewhat yellowed. On the first page, a name was written neatly:

“Mingchao Middle School Grade 11 (Class 3) Tang Ruibai”

Qin Yu and Tang Ruibai both came from Lan City, though Qin Yu attended Lan City No. 2 Middle School, the best high school in the city, while Tang Ruibai was at the worst, Mingchao Middle School. Coincidentally, Mingchao Middle School was located directly across from Lan City No. 2 Middle School.

Yet, Qin Yu and Tang Ruibai had met in Beicheng. At that time, Qin Yu was studying in the German Department of Beicheng Foreign Studies University, while Tang Ruibai had become one of the many “Beicheng Drifters.”

Tang Ruibai rarely talked to her about her school days. When Qin Yu accidentally learned that Tang Ruibai’s high school was across from hers, she feigned indifference and asked: “You’ve never heard of my name?”

Tang Ruibai shook her head nonchalantly: “Are you very famous?”

Qin Yu pursed her lips and hugged her waist from behind, her warm hands sliding under the hem of her clothes to warm Tang Ruibai’s chilly stomach: “It was alright. My grades were good when I was in school, so I was quite famous there.”

Throughout her high school years, she had been quite famous. Except in her senior year, her fame was that of a fallen heiress whose family company had gone bankrupt, both parents dead, and a debt of millions. Even so, she had endured the pressure, scored over 670 on the Gaokao, and gotten into Beiwai. Besides, Qin Yu was good-looking, and many boys and girls in school liked her.

But when Qin Yu spoke of it, it sounded like bragging, and Tang Ruibai happened to be someone who didn’t like asking many questions.

Qin Yu teased Tang Ruibai with a smile: “If you had met me sooner, I could have definitely gotten you into an undergraduate program.”

Tang Ruibai’s expression remained normal: “That impressive?”

“My high school notes sold for 2,800 yuan.” Qin Yu raised an eyebrow: “After graduating from high school, I made nearly 10,000 yuan just by working as a tutor.”

Tang Ruibai nodded calmly: “That is impressive.” She spoke words of praise, yet not a hint of genuine concern could be seen.

Qin Yu was annoyed by her attitude: “You don’t believe me?”

Tang Ruibai finally gave a small smile, but her eyes remained fixed on the script. “How could I not?”

That script had been handled so much it was practically worn smooth. Qin Yu knew she had her eye on a role and wanted to audition, so she whispered in her ear: “Talk to me seriously, and I’ll help you rehearse.”

Tang Ruibai closed the script and spread her hands helplessly: “When am I ever not serious?”

Qin Yu felt her finally warming stomach and hummed softly: “Honestly, if we really went back to high school, you must come find me. Especially during my freshman and sophomore years—I was very rich.”

Tang Ruibai murmured: “You wouldn’t want to know the me back then.”

Qin Yu was reminiscing about her lavish behavior at the time and didn’t hear clearly what she said. When she asked again, Tang Ruibai would only say it was fine, coaxing her—who was about to lose her temper—into a calm state.

Qin Yu had always been a person with a fairly gentle personality, able to get along with anyone. From childhood to adulthood, she had never lacked friends, but her emotions were always stirred by Tang Ruibai. Occasionally she became irritable or frustrated, but as long as Tang Ruibai coaxed her with a few words, she was fine again.

As Qin Yu flipped through the notebook Tang Ruibai had left behind, scenes of their time together flickered through her mind like a revolving lantern. Since the divorce, she had deliberately tried not to think about the situations they shared. But those memories were pressed into her heart; she couldn’t forget, and she didn’t want to. They were likely the most precious things she had left after her parents died.

Ultimately, she had still lost them. Just as her parents had abandoned her, Tang Ruibai had ruthlessly and without reservation abandoned her.

The notebook contained excerpts Tang Ruibai had copied while reading. Qin Yu had always thought Tang Ruibai was a poor student; after all, according to Tang Ruibai, she only scored 320 on the Gaokao. But the content Tang Ruibai had copied was extensive; it was clear she had read many books, and the thick notebook left no doubt about her attitude.

That left only one possibility—Tang Ruibai was slow. Yet Qin Yu knew Tang Ruibai was very smart. Back when they were in university, even if Tang Ruibai didn’t go to the public elective classes, when Qin Yu brought the books home, Tang Ruibai could explain the concepts clearly. Tang Ruibai had even helped her write her assignments a few times after some persistent pestering.

Qin Yu suddenly realized she didn’t understand Tang Ruibai at all. How could that be? She was supposed to be the person in this world who understood Tang Ruibai the most.

Qin Yu finished flipping through the notes. In the very corner of the last page, she saw a sentence: “Qin and Jin’s bond, the bells of spirit and the refinement of the elegant.”

This was the way she most liked to introduce herself in high school. Later, she felt it was a bit pretentious and stopped using it. How could it appear in Tang Ruibai’s notebook? Could they have actually known each other in high school?

Qin Yu began to feel a desperate urge to prove that the relationship between her and Tang Ruibai should be more than just this. But she still couldn’t recall anything. Her impression of Tang Ruibai began at the Xiheng Film and Television City in the suburbs of Beicheng.

Qin Yu stayed in the room until she felt like she was suffocating. She stood up to leave and drove toward Lan City.