Spring Night of Misty Rain - Chapter 27

Shen Zeyu slept until the afternoon. When she finally opened her eyes, she found herself resting on Xu Luosu’s lap.

From her low vantage point, she looked up to see Xu Luosu’s face softened by the twilight. One hand protected Shen Zeyu’s head while the other absentmindedly toyed with her hair. “Awake, Senior Sister?” Xu Luosu asked gently.

Shen Zeyu blinked, yawning as she sat up and tried to tame her messy curls. “Where are we? Going back to the hotel?”

The nap seemed to have restored some of her spirit. Xu Luosu observed her closely, letting out a secret breath of relief when she saw the emotional storm had subsided. “There’s a private kitchen nearby that’s quite good. I’m taking you to dinner.”

“At this hour? What about the script meeting tonight?”

Xu Luosu smiled with the easy confidence of a ruler. “Canceled. We’ll do it another day.”

In her own company, Xu Luosu was the law. While Shen Zeyu might not have minded showing her wounds, Xu Luosu was determined to shield her from the prying eyes and gossip of the crew. As long as Shen Zeyu’s arm wasn’t healed, Xu Luosu wouldn’t let her face the world’s scrutiny alone.

The Lethargy of the Deep

During a depressive phase, Shen Zeyu was plagued by an all-consuming fatigue. It wasn’t just physical; it was a spiritual exhaustion that made everything—even her favorite sweet and sour fish—seem utterly uninteresting.

At dinner, she sat opposite Xu Luosu, her head nodding like a little chick pecking for grain, drifting in and out of sleep. Realizing that the change of scenery was only disturbing Shen Zeyu’s need for rest, Xu Luosu quickly finished her meal and brought her back to the hotel.

True to form, the moment Shen Zeyu touched the bed, she was out. Xu Luosu carefully adjusted the air conditioning, tucked her in—making sure she wouldn’t roll onto her injury—and left the room to handle her own business.

The Business of “Folding the Moon”

Xu Luosu’s film company was in its infancy, but under her top aide, Wang Wenqing, they had managed to recruit the legendary agent Lou Xiao, who had been in retirement for two years.

The immediate goal was the second season of their current show and the launch of a new project: a Republic-era film titled Folding the Moon (Zhe Yueliang).

Xu Luosu’s first choice for director was the award-winning Guan Hong. However, as Lou Xiao reported during their video conference, Guan Hong had rejected them outright.

“Was it the pay? Or the schedule?” Xu Luosu asked, tapping her arm in thought.

“Neither,” Lou Xiao replied bluntly. “He didn’t think much of the script. When he saw it was by ‘Jin Ze’ (Shen Zeyu’s pen name), he just sneered and called it a ‘woman’s script’ with no grand vision. He said filming such a common story would ruin his reputation.”

The team moved on quickly. Xu Luosu decided to target Wen Xianyi, a prestigious “fifth-generation” director known for his profound character studies, but also decided to look into Li Li, a director from the Cantonese opera circle.

The Cat Laps the Water

While the meeting—consisting of Xu Luosu, Wang Wenqing, Lou Xiao, and secretary Zhang Jia—was in full swing, a dark figure emerged silently from the bedroom.

Shen Zeyu, barefoot and disheveled, wandered over and collapsed onto the back of Xu Luosu’s sofa, her hands resting on Xu Luosu’s shoulders. The participants on the video call froze, staring at the mysterious pair of hands.

Xu Luosu muted her video and turned around. “Had enough sleep?”

Shen Zeyu looked like a puddle of black ink, soft and impossible to gather up. “Not really… I’m thirsty. What are you doing?”

“A meeting.” Xu Luosu poured a cup of water from a thermos.

Too lazy to even reach out, Shen Zeyu leaned forward like a caterpillar and lapped at the water from the cup. Like a kitten, Xu Luosu thought, tilting the cup to make it easier for her.

After a few sips, Shen Zeyu bypassed the sofa and sat down beside Xu Luosu. Without a word, she pulled Xu Luosu’s arm up and dropped her head onto the girl’s lap.

Xu Luosu was stunned by the naturalness of the move. She sighed, pulled a blanket over her, and typed into the meeting chat: “Continue discussing. I can’t speak right now. Just send me the minutes later.”

The Ghost of Shang Qiuchi

As the meeting continued in text, Shen Zeyu mumbled into Xu Luosu’s lap, “Don’t go for Wen Xianyi… try Li Li instead. She’s from the Cantonese circle, a disciple of the master Li Mingyi. She has a screenwriter she works well with, Nineteen Lang…”

Her voice trailed off as she fell back into a deep, rhythmic sleep.

Xu Luosu stayed on a private call with Wang Wenqing to discuss a clothing company acquisition. After concluding business, Wang Wenqing couldn’t help but gossip about the hands she had seen earlier.

“That was Teacher Shen, right? You two… live together?”

“Yes, why?” Xu Luosu asked plainly.

“Nothing… just noticed her hands are quite beautiful,” Wang Wenqing remarked. She then touched on a taboo subject: “I mean, considering Teacher Shen’s orientation… and the fact that she dated Shang Qiuchi… I’ve always wondered who was the ‘top’ and who was the ‘bottom’ in that relationship. Shang Qiuchi gives off such such a ‘dominant sister’ vibe.”

Xu Luosu’s expression turned cold. “That isn’t important. And regardless of her role, it doesn’t change the fact that Shang Qiuchi is trash.”

In the industry, many “admired” Shang Qiuchi’s ambition—how she used her beauty and wits to climb into a higher social class, eventually choosing the powerful Jin Yue over the “unambitious” Shen Zeyu.

But Xu Luosu saw it differently. To her, ambition was fine, but betrayal was not. Shang Qiuchi had led Shen Zeyu on while pursuing others, leaving Shen Zeyu to clean up the mess and become the laughingstock of the industry. She had destroyed Shen Zeyu’s self-confidence with her betrayal.

Xu Luosu looked down at the woman sleeping on her lap. She typed a final line to Wang Wenqing:

“Don’t mention Shang Qiuchi in front of me again. Her name isn’t fit to be mentioned in the same breath as Teacher Shen.”