Spring Night of Misty Rain - Chapter 2

Xu Luosu…

Shen Zeyu studied her discreetly, feeling that the girl’s features were inexplicably familiar.

Beside her, Zhou Qingyang didn’t give her much time to investigate. He pointed toward his desk. “Just leave them there.”

Xu Luosu nodded, carried the stack of theses to the desk, set them down gently, and slipped out of the office without a sound.

As they brushed past each other, Shen Zeyu caught a faint scent of jasmine. It was subtle and unassuming—a sharp contrast to the girl’s strikingly vivid beauty. Shen Zeyu couldn’t help but look up, watching her figure disappear through the door.

Once the office door closed, Zhou Qingyang smiled. “Do you think she looks familiar?”

Shen Zeyu withdrew her gaze and nodded. “Yes. I feel like I’ve seen that face somewhere before.”

Zhou Qingyang provided the answer quickly. “She is Xu Qingyue’s younger sister, and the last closed-door disciple of your master, Guan Qing.”

Realization dawned on Shen Zeyu. “Oh…”

Xu Qingyue was the current heir to the Xu family—the wealthiest family in Nanjiang—the big boss behind Giant Whale Entertainment, and one of Shen Zeyu’s former major investors.

Guan Qing, on the other hand, was a famous Kunqu opera star and one of her grandmother’s closest friends. Before her grandmother, Yang Feixia, passed away, Shen Zeyu often went to watch Guan Qing perform.

Although they hadn’t kept in close touch after her grandmother’s death, Shen Zeyu still sent gifts to the Guan family during major holidays.

With these connections, it was likely they had crossed paths before. No wonder she felt a sense of recognition.

The interlude had broken their previous momentum. When they resumed talking, Shen Zeyu avoided the earlier heavy topics and instead asked after the well-being of other elders.

Shen Zeyu was born with a “cold face.” At first glance, people often assumed she was arrogant and difficult to approach. However, she had been raised by her grandmother; while she didn’t often bother with social niceties, she was actually quite skilled at them. When facing elders, she was sweet-tongued, attentive, and helpful.

She spent the afternoon chatting with Zhou Qingyang and, at her teacher’s persistent invitation, took her black suitcase to Zhou’s home for dinner.

Zhou Qingyang had never married but lived with a “best friend” for twenty-five years. Aside from close younger relatives, few people visited their home. When Shen Zeyu was a student, they had both been very fond of her. Now that she had recovered and been discharged from the hospital, they were delighted to see her and wanted her to stay longer.

Shen Zeyu excused herself, claiming she had a mountain of things to handle at home. The two women saw her off reluctantly. Leaving the suitcase at her teacher’s house, Shen Zeyu stepped out empty-handed, save for her white flat-topped hat. She put on a mask and slender, rimless tawny glasses, then hailed a taxi straight to the high-speed rail station.

These were habits left over from her time dating Shang Qiuchi.

Now that she was no longer a female star surrounded by a crowd, this outfit actually made her look like an eccentric outlier, drawing curious glances from passersby. Coupled with her thin frame, upright posture, and striking aura, she attracted immediate attention the moment she stepped into the VIP waiting room.

Indifferent to the stares, Shen Zeyu found an empty seat and opened her phone.

Among the few active contacts left, Chen Ci had sent a message: “Have you reached the station yet?”

Shen Zeyu replied with two simple words: “I have.”

The rest of her notifications were a series of long messages from Zhou Qingyang. Shen Zeyu opened them and read every word seriously. This teacher truly viewed her as a daughter; every line was filled with admiration and encouragement.

Zhou praised Shen Zeyu’s talent and offered comfort: “Child, you were born for this. Even if things are difficult for a while, it’s just Heaven’s way of tempering your craft.”

“Get through this hurdle, and better days lie ahead.”

“You’ve just left the hospital; don’t overthink things. Your health is the priority. If you ever want to make movies again, come to me…”

The most powerful aspect of emotional stabilizers is that they use basic electrical signaling circuits to blur a person’s true senses. For instance, looking at such heartfelt words now, her old self would have been moved to tears.

But now, that surge of sadness and gratitude felt blocked in her cerebral vessels, muddled into a dense, stagnant fog—heavy and damp, yet unable to condense into falling rain.

For a moment, Shen Zeyu wondered if her heart had stopped beating. She raised a hand to her chest. It was still beating, but her world remained deathly silent, without a single ripple.

She scrolled through the WeChat page, reading the messages repeatedly with a calm expression. After a long silence, she slowly typed: “Thank you, Teacher, for your encouragement and guidance. Once I’ve readjusted to the world and resolved my personal issues, I will come back to continue learning from you.”

It was the warmest response she was currently capable of writing.

Just then, the sound of rolling luggage wheels approached her. A moment later, a surprised cry rang out near her ear: “Senior!”

Startled, Shen Zeyu looked up to see a bright, smiling face. “What a coincidence! We meet again.”

It was Xu Luosu.

The girl had changed out of her daytime “forest-style” outfit. Now, she wore a black baseball cap, a white branded T-shirt, and a black-and-red varsity jacket. The style was hip-hop, cool, and full of energy.

Shen Zeyu was slightly amazed. She was wrapped up so tightly—she didn’t know how the girl had recognized her.

The girl, who found it so easy to strike up a conversation, took off her mask, her eyes curving into crescents. “Can I sit next to you?”

She was a very enthusiastic child. Shen Zeyu turned off her phone screen and nodded. Xu Luosu promptly pushed her suitcase over and sat down beside her.

The loneliness that had shrouded Shen Zeyu—a darkness thicker than the night—was shattered by the girl’s presence.

Out of politeness, Shen Zeyu had to turn and initiate a topic. “It’s so late. Where are you going all by yourself?”

Xu Luosu put her mask back on, her voice light and cheerful. “Heading to the Prosperity Film City to join a film crew.”

Shen Zeyu was somewhat surprised. “Now? Isn’t your assistant with you?”

Xu Luosu explained a bit sheepishly, “I don’t have an assistant…”

This time, Shen Zeyu was genuinely shocked. She was the third miss of the Xu family; how could she be filming without so much as an assistant? Was there some sort of internal family struggle within the Nanjiang Xu family? She hadn’t seen any signs of that.

She didn’t say anything, but her profound surprise was communicated to Xu Luosu nonetheless.

The girl laughed, appearing poised and graceful. “My family doesn’t really like me acting. Most of the time, I have to be self-reliant.” She paused, then added, “But once I get to Hengdian, my manager will look after me.”

Shen Zeyu understood immediately. This was a classic tactic in wealthy families. On one hand, they wanted to make things difficult for the child so she would learn how hard life is and give up her “unapproved dream.” On the other hand, they couldn’t bear to see her suffer too much, so they set up this half-hearted arrangement.

They were stopping her, but only halfway.

Shen Zeyu nodded and offered a brief consolation. “That’s good then.”

Xu Luosu let out a light chuckle, took a deep breath, and took the lead. “And you, Senior? Where are you going so late?”

Shen Zeyu was concise. “Going home.”

Xu Luosu let out a soft “Eh?” “Going back to Jinuo at this hour? You won’t get home until half-past midnight.”

In some ways, Shen Zeyu was a very sharp person. From that one sentence, she realized that the girl was clearly very familiar with her.

Shen Zeyu didn’t immediately become defensive, but as she looked at Xu Luosu’s dark, elegant brows and ink-black eyes, a similar set of features flashed through her mind. For some reason, she felt a pang of pain in her heart.

That pain sparked a hint of resentment.

She was a person of clear boundaries. After hearing those words, her tone became slightly softer: “Yes.” Of course, it was an act.

Xu Luosu sensed the change in tone and became slightly happier. “Jinuo is a wonderful city—a place of great people and spiritual influence. I have a friend from there who says the breakfast culture is amazing and there are so many delicious things to eat. I’ve always wanted to go there for a trip.”

Shen Zeyu put on her social mask and replied composedly, “You’re welcome to visit. Though, as a female star, you probably won’t be able to eat much in Jinuo.”

Since ancient times, Nanjiang had been known for producing beauties. The famous historical consort, Gan Tang, hailed from Nanjiang. Because of this, the general impression of Nanjiang women was like the lingering spring rain of March—a touch of melancholy always clouding their brows. At least, every Nanjiang beauty Shen Zeyu had met before was like that.

This third miss of the Xu family had those same features, but her nature was different.

She loved to laugh. When she did, her eyes sparkled with a light that chased away the mist usually found in the eyes of Nanjiang women. Even with a mask on, you could feel her brilliance.

Hearing Shen Zeyu’s remark, Xu Luosu laughed again. “Haha… No way! I only play tiny, eighteenth-tier supporting roles in crews. I’m hardly a ‘female star.'”

“As long as I order it, I’ll finish every bite!”

The young girl’s bold declaration made Shen Zeyu smile. She nodded in approval. “Then when you come to Jinuo, I’ll make sure to host you properly if we have the chance.”

Just as she finished speaking, the announcement for ticket checking rang through the waiting room.

Shen Zeyu stood up and said to Xu Luosu, “My train is boarding. Safe travels. See you again.”

It was a polite, formal farewell. No contact info exchanged, no business cards given. There was no “next time.”

But she had a faint premonition that Xu Luosu would definitely try to keep her there. Sure enough, before she had taken a single step, someone grabbed her sleeve. “Wait.”

Shen Zeyu turned to see Xu Luosu clutching the hem of her coat, holding up a QR code on her phone. She spoke with a mix of timidity and courage: “Senior… let’s add each other on WeChat.”

Shen Zeyu was silent for a moment before opening her phone under the girl’s gaze to scan the code.

With a soft ding, a friend request popped up on Xu Luosu’s phone.

The girl looked up at Shen Zeyu. Hidden behind the tawny glasses and the mask, Shen Zeyu’s expression was unreadable.

But through those lenses, Shen Zeyu saw the joy in the girl’s eyes. Shen Zeyu smiled slightly, raised her phone, and gave a small wave. “Talk later.”

She turned and vanished into the bustling crowd.