Spring Night of Misty Rain - Chapter 4

Xu Luosu was here to talk business.

Once she understood the situation, Chen Ci didn’t hesitate to abandon Shen Zeyu, driving off to work by herself. This left only Shen Zeyu and Xu Luosu in the house.

Xu Luosu stood on the solid wood floor of the first floor, clutching her suitcase, as she and a pajama-clad Shen Zeyu stared at each other. The curtains had all been drawn back; the sky was a murky gray—the kind of weather that made one feel lazy at a single glance.

Over the past two years, whenever the weather was like this, nurses would use restraints to tie Shen Zeyu to her hospital bed. She would lie there with her head tilted, watching the sky through the window—from the faint light of dawn to a slightly brighter gray, only to plunge into eternal night after a day of gloom.

Her body had grown accustomed to being lethargic during this season; she hated going out on overcast days. However, she had a guest today—one who might be a major investor. Out of courtesy, Shen Zeyu scratched her cheek and asked reluctantly, “Have you had breakfast?”

Xu Luosu shook her head. “No,” she admitted candidly. She had taken an overnight high-speed train; though she had found a hotel to freshen up earlier, she hadn’t eaten.

Shen Zeyu touched her curls, shifting slightly as she searched for a proper response. “In that case… I’ll go change first. There’s a guest room on the second floor, first door on the left, with an ensuite bathroom. If you want to freshen up, go there first…”

Before she could finish, Xu Luosu’s eyes lit up. “Okay! I’ll be in your care then, Senior!”

That had been her plan all along. She began hauling her thirty-inch black suitcase up the stairs.

Shen Zeyu’s “Little Red Building” was a Republic-era structure. Despite several interior renovations, no elevator had been installed. The staircases of that era were high-ceilinged and steep; what was technically the second floor felt more like three and a half stories up.

Though the girl was tall, she was an actress—lithe and slender, her limbs like willow branches. Watching her lug that massive suitcase up the stairs was nerve-wracking. Fearing she might fall, Shen Zeyu rushed to help. “Let me…”

But when she reached out to lift, she found she couldn’t budge it. It was a bit embarrassing.

The girl just smiled, unfazed. “It’s fine. I can carry a Steadicam; my hands are very steady.”

A Steadicam? That was a heavy-duty beast in the world of cinematography—stable but incredibly heavy. Shen Zeyu hadn’t expected someone so thin to possess such strength.

It’s good to be young, Shen Zeyu thought. Everything about being young is good.

She withdrew her hand. “I won’t meddle, then.” She led Xu Luosu to the guest room and opened the door. “You can rest for a bit. Once I’ve changed, we’ll head out for breakfast.”

Xu Luosu pushed her suitcase inside and scanned the room. Her eyes landed on the vibrant mural above the bedside table. “Did you paint this yourself, Senior?”

Shen Zeyu glanced at the wall. A large expanse of sunflowers bloomed across a meadow on the oil-painted canvas. Meticulous brushstrokes depicted delicate insects and butterflies resting on petals. Like the rest of the room’s decor, the mural was dominated by warm tones—it felt incredibly cozy.

Shen Zeyu looked away, giving a casual reply. “I suppose so.”

Waking up early always left Shen Zeyu’s mood in a slump. After seeing this room, she felt even more irritable. She wanted nothing more than to kick her guest out and crawl back into bed, but circumstances wouldn’t allow it. To avoid being rude, she gave a light cough. “I’ll go change. See you in a bit.”

“Mhm! Go ahead, Senior. See you soon.”

Shen Zeyu retreated to her own room. The moment she was back in her own territory, her strength seemed to vanish. She collapsed onto her bed.

Ugh, I don’t want to socialize at all. It’s so exhausting.

She lay paralyzed on her left cheek for a while, then switched to her right. She closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. Why was she hosting this person? Was selling the rights really that important? Did she need the money that badly?

Given her current situation, medical bills were about 6,000 yuan a month, 1,000 for utilities, 1,000 for living expenses… wait, could she even spend 1,000 on living expenses? She had no appetite anyway. One steamed bun a day wouldn’t kill her; she could just eat buns forever…

But even buying buns was a hassle. To get them, she’d have to leave the house. Leaving required walking. Walking required moving her legs—left leg, then right leg. One step at a time, heavy and slow.

What was heavy was the flesh covering her soul; what was slow was the soul dragging that flesh. Worst of all, leaving the house required changing into regular clothes. To change, she had to open her eyes and get out of bed. Just the act of opening her eyes took an immense amount of effort.

Ah, so troublesome. Opening my eyes is trouble, breathing is trouble, a heartbeat is trouble. Might as well just die—

Knock, knock.

The sound from the open door interrupted her spiraling thoughts. Shen Zeyu snapped her eyes open.

Xu Luosu’s concerned voice drifted in: “Senior, are you alright? Are you still asleep? Should we wait until you’ve rested more before going out?”

Shen Zeyu practically bounced off the bed, standing stiffly by its side. “No! I’m changing right now!”

Despite her intense reluctance, Shen Zeyu changed and led Xu Luosu out.

Jinuo Avenue was a famous scenic area with countless delicacies. After asking for Xu Luosu’s opinion, she took her to a renowned old shop to eat Juanquan.

Juanquan is a snack where bean sprouts, mushrooms, cilantro, and dried tofu are wrapped in bean curd skin, sealed with flour paste, and deep-fried. Fresh from the fryer, it’s crispy on the outside and fragrant on the inside. Served with fried lotus root, eggplant, and tiger-skin peppers inside a wrap, every bite is a burst of flavor.

“Mmm~ It really is delicious!” Sitting at a small stall under a tree outside the shop, Xu Luosu gave a big thumbs up.

Opposite her, Shen Zeyu managed a weak, perfunctory smile. “I’m glad you like it.”

One was dressed entirely in black like a mourner; the other looked like a grand artist from an academy. Their auras were striking. Fortunately, it was 9:30 AM and the breakfast rush had passed, so they didn’t draw too much attention. Even so, every customer who came for a wrap couldn’t help but steal a glance at them.

The stares weren’t obvious, but they felt like cobwebs on the skin—subtly uncomfortable.

Xu Luosu seemed completely oblivious. As she ate, she chatted away. “When I watched Life is Most Worthy, I really wanted to try Han Zhen’s Juanquan to see if it was actually that good. I ordered one in Nanjiang once, but it was terrible. I really wondered how Han Zhen managed to build an empire starting with these.”

She held up her half-eaten wrap, smiling at Shen Zeyu. “Now I understand. It was just because I hadn’t tasted a good one yet.”

Hearing her own work mentioned, Shen Zeyu froze for a second. She gave a mechanical reply: “Want to buy another one later then?”

Xu Luosu shook her head. “I want to eat other things for lunch. I’ll have more next time.”

“Okay.”

The sun still hadn’t appeared. The sky was gloomy, and Shen Zeyu was listless, her appetite non-existent.

Xu Luosu looked at the wrap in front of Shen Zeyu—which had only one bite taken out of it—and the nearly full soy milk. After a moment of thought, she spoke: “Speaking of which, I’ve always had a question I wanted to ask you, Senior…”

Shen Zeyu looked up and saw the girl watching her cautiously. “I wonder if you’re willing to answer?”

Usually, that expression meant someone was about to pry into her privacy. Shen Zeyu sat up straight. “You can ask. I’ll answer at my discretion.”

Xu Luosu asked, “Was Han Zhen’s original character setting… supposed to be a girl?”

“Huh?”

Shen Zeyu was stunned. Xu Luosu looked a bit embarrassed, her tone shy. “Because after watching the movie, I always felt she should have been a girl.”

To support her theory, she listed evidence: “Think about it. Han Zhen faces three choices during the college entrance exam because of her mother’s illness. But the emotional bond with Gu Xi sprouted back in junior high. Given Gu Xi’s personality—supporting Han Zhen through three years of long-distance and her mother’s treatment—there’s no reason for Gu Xi to give up on her after becoming an adult. Gu Xi is resilient; she wouldn’t give up on her because of poverty.”

“So, the only thing that could truly tear them apart… was the world’s conventions.”

Shen Zeyu looked up at the girl speaking with such conviction. Her drifting gaze slowly began to focus.

Xu Luosu was right. In Shen Zeyu’s original draft, Han Zhen was a woman.

Life is Most Worthy was Shen Zeyu’s most successful film—low budget, high returns, it had made her a star in the industry. Originally, the story went like this:

Han Zhen, a catering tycoon, is fifty and alone. Using AI virtual technology, she constructs one new life after another. In every virtual life, she meets a person named Gu Xi in junior high.

In the first world, she decides not to interact with Gu Xi. But in high school, when Han Zhen’s mother develops ALS, she can’t withstand the vulnerability and instinctively reaches out to her familiar Gu Xi. They become “best friends.” After graduation, she starts a business while Gu Xi goes to university. They naturally start dating. But it doesn’t last; Gu Xi dies in an accident during a volunteer teaching trip. Han Zhen is alone again.

In the second world, to make up for the regret, Han Zhen decides to go to university with Gu Xi. But because they lack the money for treatment, her mother dies early. Han Zhen blames herself and subconsciously blames Gu Xi. Gu Xi senses the resentment; they part ways, and Han Zhen dies alone.

In the third world, she wants both. She starts her business early and amasses great wealth. But when she is thirty-two, Gu Xi’s parents still won’t accept their relationship. Gu Xi is tormented and dies of depression.

In the fourth world…

Through attempt after attempt, Han Zhen tries to change things, suffering through guilt. But was that the reality? Was life only about regret and pain? In the final world, when Gu Xi asks why Han Zhen is so good to her, Han Zhen replies: “Because I want to be as happy and joyful as possible for the time we have together.”

Hearing Xu Luosu use the separation in the “third world” as proof that the story didn’t quite work as a heterosexual romance, Shen Zeyu finally spoke: “Mhm… I can answer you, but you can’t tell anyone.”

Xu Luosu nodded instantly, her eyes sparkling like a puppy’s. “I won’t!”

Shen Zeyu was momentarily dazzled by her. She paused, then said, “You’re right.”

Xu Luosu’s eyes flared with light. “I knew it! I guessed right!”

She burst into a bright, brilliant smile that reminded Shen Zeyu of the wall of sunflowers in the guest room. At that moment, the eastern sky began to brighten. The gloom was receding, and the air seemed to be traced with a shimmering golden edge.

Shen Zeyu suddenly felt the heavy shell pressing against her skin lift slightly. Her heavy heart felt as though it had taken root and sprouted, slowly being pushed out of the abyss.

She couldn’t help a light chuckle. Her voice softened, like a slow snail poking out its tender antennae from a heavy shell of fate. “Do you like this movie that much?”

Xu Luosu answered without hesitation, “I love it! Especially the final line—it’s my favorite!”

Shen Zeyu understood. “Oh… that one…”

They looked at each other and, with perfect synchronization, spoke the line in unison:

“Even if the day comes when we must part, I pray the Heavens let us meet!”

As they finished the line together, they couldn’t help but burst into laughter.