Spring Night of Misty Rain - Chapter 29

Perhaps Xu Luosu’s embrace had been exceptionally powerful, for by the next morning, Shen Zeyu was as if she’d been injected with a shot of adrenaline. Her despondency vanished, and she was fully revitalized.

Though her injuries hadn’t completely healed, she insisted that Luosu convene a script meeting to finalize the content for the second season. The meetings lasted ten days. Once the outlines were set, Zeyu simply told Luosu, “I’ll handle the writing myself,” packed up the meeting notes, and retreated back to Jinwu.

Luosu had wanted to ask her to stay. However, recalling Zeyu’s erratic behavior during her recent episode, she found it difficult to speak up. She could only watch as Zeyu departed.

Back in Jinwu, Zeyu put everything else out of her mind and went into seclusion to focus entirely on the script. On the weekends, Chen Ci would pick her up to go to the kiln factory to help teach classes for children from special education schools.

Having not touched ceramics for years, it took Zeyu some effort to regain her touch. As they worked the clay, Chen Ci asked curiously, “Didn’t you say you’d be with the crew for a month? Why are you back so soon?”

Zeyu sighed, focusing on the vase spinning beneath her hands. “I ran into an old colleague. It brought up some past memories and triggered an episode.”

“A colleague? Who? Wen Tian? Or Gu Ji?” It wasn’t surprising that Chen Ci guessed those names; there were only a handful of people in the world capable of triggering Zeyu.

Zeyu shook her head. “Neither.”

Chen Ci looked suspicious. “Don’t tell me it’s the one who made you want to be ‘the other woman’?”

Zeyu fell silent.

Chen Ci instantly read between the lines and gasped. “No way! Who is this person? Who could actually make you consider being a mistress?”

Good heavens. Zeyu was the kind of fool who, once in love, believed strictly in “one person for one lifetime.” For her to consider breaking her own rules, the other person had to be a goddess descended from the heavens. Excitement bubbled over as Chen Ci nudged Zeyu with her elbow. “Come on, tell me! Who is it? Tell your big sister.”

The nudge sent Zeyu’s clay off-center. She cried out, “Hey! Don’t hit me, my pottery…”

Despite her best efforts to save it, the piece was ruined. She had to start over. Chen Ci opened her mouth to pry further, but Zeyu shot her a cold, annoyed look. “Give me back my vase first!”

“Fine, fine,” Chen Ci huffed, feigning indifference. “Keep your secrets; see if I care.” They dropped the subject and moved on to other things.

Zeyu visited the kiln three more times with Chen Ci, eventually bringing home a finished red, narrow-necked ceramic vase.

The Reunion in Miancheng

By the end of October, filming for the first season of The Night is Still had wrapped, and the crew moved into the high-pressure phase of post-production. Simultaneously, the auditions began for Plucking the Moon, the project directed by Li Li and co-written by Jin Zeyu and Nineteen Lang.

Zeyu had to travel from Jinwu to Miancheng to join Li Li and the others for the casting process. Between writing the second season of The Night is Still and assisting Qin Zhiyue with the post-production editing of the first, Zeyu was incredibly busy.

The moment she got into the car heading for the hotel, Zeyu pulled out her tablet and began frantically revising the script, not even noticing the person sitting beside her. It wasn’t until the car emerged from the underground garage that a familiar female voice spoke up.

“You really are cold-hearted, Sister. You go home for a month and forget I even exist.”

Zeyu snapped her head up. Xu Luosu sat beside her, dressed in a crisp white shirt under a silver-grey blazer. She was leaning against the window, watching Zeyu with a look of slight, playful grievance.

Zeyu’s eyes lit up, followed immediately by a flicker of guilt. “Why are you here?” she asked sheepishly.

Luosu quirked a lip, caught between being annoyed and amused. “I’m the producer. Of course I’m here for the casting.”

“Right… look at my memory, I completely forgot.” Zeyu tapped her own forehead, playing dumb to smooth things over.

Luosu sighed helplessly. “Fine, I won’t hold it against you.” She smiled and shifted closer to Zeyu, leaning in to look at the tablet. “Is that the script for Season Two? How is it coming along?”

They were sitting very close. Suddenly, Zeyu was enveloped by that “sun-like” scent. She knew this fragrance well; it was the scent that had anchored her during her last episode. Recalling that now, however, made her want to die of embarrassment.

Zeyu wanted to pull away but didn’t dare move. She tensed her body to resist the intrusion of the scent, cleared her throat, and said dryly, “The first draft is done. I’m doing revisions now.”

Luosu looked up in shock. “So fast?”

According to their schedule, finishing by New Year’s would have been considered fast. Zeyu was nearly a month ahead of schedule, which bought them ample time for pre-production. Zeyu handed over the tablet, a hint of expectation in her eyes. “A lot of it is just a rough draft, so you’ll have to make do.”

Luosu took the tablet with a bright smile. “You’re too modest, Sister. I’ll take a look then.”

As Luosu focused on the script, the overwhelming fragrance receded slightly. Zeyu felt her stalled heart resume a normal rhythm. She placed a hand over her chest and let out a silent sigh of relief. Thank God, I’m still alive.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Zeyu quietly increased the distance between them, pressing herself against the car window. She rested her chin on her hand, her eyes wandering from the neon lights outside to the dreamcatcher hanging from the rearview mirror. Finally, she let her gaze drift covertly back to Luosu.

The sky was completely dark now, the interior of the car lit only by a dim overhead light. The white light fell over Luosu, but it didn’t create the harsh shadows one might expect. Instead, it made her skin look as white and translucent as milk.

Zeyu suddenly remembered seeing Xu Qingyue a few times years ago; she had the same fair skin. It was likely a superior family trait—anyone standing next to them would end up looking like a “yellow-skinned little monkey” by comparison.

Zeyu’s thoughts continued to drift. She forced herself to look away, but the car was so small—if she didn’t look at Luosu, where else could she look? Her eyes eventually betrayed her and darted back.

Perhaps because she was attending business events, Luosu was dressed in professional attire today. The grey suit, the slight heels, and her long black hair cascading over her shoulders—half tucked behind her ear, half draped forward—made her look exceptionally capable and mature. If Zeyu had met this kind of “older sister” type a decade ago, she probably wouldn’t have been able to walk away.

Now, though… she only thought it looked exhausting.

Zeyu parted her lips several times before finally asking, “Have you… lost weight?”

Luosu looked up, appearing dazed. “Hmm?”

“I feel like you’ve lost weight,” Zeyu said with concern. “Have you been too busy filming to eat properly?”

Luosu’s eyes widened slightly. “Really?”

Zeyu nodded and pointed toward Luosu’s eyes to prove her point. “Your face looks thinner. And have you been staying up late? You have dark circles…”

Luosu let out a small “Ah!” and immediately hid her face behind the tablet. “Those aren’t dark circles,” she argued flusteredly, “they’re aegyo sal (tear bags)!”

Her voice was a mix of embarrassment and mock-outrage. Zeyu smiled, unable to resist teasing her. “Is that so? They look like dark circles to me.”

“They’re not! They’re tear bags!” Luosu insisted, practically frantic.

The Escape to Cangnan

Perhaps as “revenge” for the tear bag comment, Luosu spent the next few days taking Zeyu out to eat after the audition work was done. Zeyu had a small appetite, but she couldn’t resist Luosu’s logic: “I’ve lost weight, so you have to accompany me and eat well.” Zeyu spent ten days in Miancheng, and she spent all ten days eating.

On the day the casting was completed, Zeyu prepared to fly back to Jinwu, but Luosu stopped her. “Miancheng is very close to Cangnan Province. It’s almost winter in Jinwu; even with heating, it will be freezing. Why don’t you stay in Cangnan for a while? My family has a resort there. You can tan, go diving… wait until spring to go back to Jinwu.”

It was a tempting offer. Jinwu saw very little sun in the winter, making it a poor environment for someone with Zeyu’s condition. Cangnan, by contrast, was warm year-round.

“But… wouldn’t that be a bother?” Zeyu hesitated.

Luosu laughed with an air of authority. “How is that a bother? You’re writing a script for me. As the boss, it’s only right that I provide the proper material foundations for my partner.”

It was a charmingly phrased offer. Zeyu thought it over and nodded. “Alright then.”

That evening, Zeyu flew with Luosu to the coastal city and settled into a villa at the resort. Early the next morning, Luosu prepared to take her out to buy some seasonal clothes at the nearby beach. However, as they stepped out of the villa, they were met by a large group of women in bikinis shouting, “Young President Xu!”

Zeyu realized too late that she had been played. She watched as the crowd passed them carrying beach volleyballs, water guns, and lifebuoys. She turned to Luosu with suspicion. “Is your company having a team-building retreat?”

“Mm-hmm,” Luosu nodded, looking perfectly innocent.

Zeyu turned to bolt. “Then go play by yourself. I’m not going.”

With so many women from Luosu’s company around, if they saw Zeyu appearing with their boss, the gossip would be endless! Her clinginess during her depressive episode had been ridiculous enough; if rumors started spreading now, what would happen to Luosu’s reputation?

Unexpectedly, Luosu reached out and grabbed Zeyu by the collar, jerking her to a halt. Zeyu kicked her thin legs and clawed at Luosu’s hand. “Xu Luosu… hey… let go of me!”

“No!” Luosu hooked her other arm around Zeyu’s waist and began dragging her forward. “I let you go last time. This time, be a good girl and come with me.”

“Xu Luosu! Junior sister! Sister Xu!” Zeyu protested.

Ignoring the cries, Luosu dragged her all the way to the bustling street. The sun was fully up now, and vendors outside the resort had set up their tricycle stalls. Under a tall coconut tree, Luosu pulled a red shirt from a stall filled with Hawaiian prints and held it up to Zeyu. “What do you think of this one?”

It was a red more vibrant than fresh blood, covered in patterns of coconut trees and sunsets. It looked both frivolous and loud. It was eye-catching—and entirely unlike Zeyu’s aesthetic. Zeyu’s style, much like her life, was dominated by black and white: monotonous and heavy.

Zeyu looked up at Luosu. Seeing the bright, radiant smile on the younger woman’s face, a bizarre sense of absurdity rose in her heart. The shirt was a ridiculous style, yet it made her feel that the first thirty years of her life had been incredibly dull.

She averted her eyes, trying to distance herself from that scorching smile. she didn’t want anyone to discover that her gaze had lingered, or to notice the subtle ripple of emotion in her heart. Zeyu swallowed hard and pretended not to care. “It’s… alright, I guess.”

Luosu looked crestfallen. “Oh… you don’t like it? I thought it would suit you so well.” Her lips curved downward, her eyes filled with disappointment.

No one could bear to disappoint a girl as bright as her—not even the usually cold Zeyu. Zeyu sighed, resigning herself to fate. “Fine. Buy it. It’s not like it’s unwearable.”

The moment the words left her mouth, Luosu’s eyes instantly lit up.