Spring Night of Misty Rain - Chapter 48

Because Shen Zeyu joined the event on short notice, Meng Fei had to rush her styling overnight, pulling a set of clothes from the summer “Bamboo Rain” series of the “Quiet Night Thoughts” brand.

The outfit was predominantly white, featuring emerald green bamboo patterns and silver-white hidden textures embroidered with Suzhou craftsmanship. Once Shen Zeyu put it on, her whole being radiated a vibrant vitality. However, her curls were quite prominent; she didn’t look like an ancient beauty so much as a foreign envoy from the Tang Dynasty.

Meng Fei was a bit conflicted, so she trimmed the front of Shen Zeyu’s hair into a jellyfish cut, leaving a long “tail” in the back. She then braided the tail with colorful silk threads and draped it over her left shoulder.

Stepping back, Meng Fei clapped her hands in satisfaction. “Done!”

Shen Zeyu rarely attended such formal events. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she felt frighteningly unfamiliar. She looked away, a bit uncomfortable, and coughed lightly. “Thank you.”

The Transformation

Qin Zhiyue walked out of the dressing room, having changed into her own outfit. She leaned in front of Shen Zeyu, clicking her tongue in wonder. “Not bad, A-Ze. All dressed up, you actually look quite respectable.”

She leaned on the back of Shen Zeyu’s chair and studied her. “Why do I feel like you’re aging in reverse? You look even younger than when you were a student.”

Shen Zeyu looked up, her tone flat. “It’s because you’ve gotten old.”

Qin Zhiyue laughed it off and pinched her cheek. “You really are regressing; look at that sharp tongue of yours.”

“Qin Zhiyue! Don’t pinch her, you’ll ruin the makeup!” Meng Fei shouted. She approached Shen Zeyu with a monocle, removing her decorative brown sunglasses and fitting the lens into her left eye socket. “No sunglasses today. Wear the monocle instead.”

Shen Zeyu’s brow bone was very prominent—a standard Northern European look—which held the lens perfectly. Qin Zhiyue rubbed her chin with appreciation. “This look… it really has a certain charm. Maybe for the next artistic film, I’ll find a ‘writer’ role for you to play.”

Both women had graduated from the Screenwriting and Directing department. In their student days, they had written, directed, and acted in their own assignments. But as professionals, they were both “lazy,” possessed a bit of camera shyness, and preferred working behind the scenes.

Shen Zeyu felt a bit of discomfort with the lens in her eye and frowned. “Is it necessary to go this far?”

She reached up to remove it, but Qin Zhiyue pressed her hand down. “Don’t. Just stay like this. Don’t let Meng Fei’s hard work go to waste.”

The Grand Entrance

Just then, Xu Luosu and Tang Qingyue emerged from another dressing room. Tang Qingyue wore a gentle wisteria-colored fairy dress, looking very scholarly.

Xu Luosu, however, was different. She wore a cheongsam in a color similar to Shen Zeyu’s, her hair pinned up with jade bamboo-shaped hairpins. It looked very sharp. But the cheongsam had a high slit on the left side, reaching nearly to her hip and revealing a long, slender leg. A black leg garter was tied around her thigh, contrasting sharply with her pale white skin.

She gave off a vibe that was both “good girl” and “spicy.” Shen Zeyu’s gaze swept over her, lingering on the flickering leg garter, and she rubbed her nose uncomfortably.

“The boss looks good in this set, doesn’t she?” Meng Fei whispered mischeivously. “The leg garter—pretty hot, right?”

Shen Zeyu didn’t answer, giving only a faint grunt.

The Arrival

The launch event was held in the Great Hall of Yinhai University. Shen Zeyu and Xu Luosu shared a car, while the others followed in a separate fleet.

As Night Languor was the flagship project for Zhu Yu’s entry into the Asia-Pacific region, it was already a target for many rival capitals. Fortunately, Xu Luosu was a major shareholder in a top social media platform and the founder of a massive MCN company, so she wouldn’t be easily blocked in promotion.

However, Shen Zeyu knew the industry well. Once the series aired, the smears would come. First, they would attack the plot; second, they would target the acting; third, they would aim for the creators. Qin Zhiyue had recently won major awards; if the drama failed, they would blame her. They would mock Meng Fei’s styling as “unappealing.”

And finally, they would go for the writer—Jin Ze. She was a diagnosed mental health patient, and if they brought up her history with Lin Pei, the phrase “workplace sexual harassment” would be enough to destroy her.

As Shen Zeyu listed every possible threat in her mind, her face grew paler. She felt a surge of regret for agreeing to the project. Just as she was sinking into an emotional abyss, a warm hand gripped hers.

“Are you feeling unwell? Your face looks terrible,” Xu Luosu said with worry.

Shen Zeyu snapped back to reality, taking a deep breath to suppress her emotions. “I’m fine. I just… thought of some things from the past.”

Xu Luosu patted the back of her hand and said softly, “It’s okay. Trust me, I’m here.”

“I’ve been in business a long time,” Xu Luosu added with a gentle smile. “No one has ever managed to get the better of me. Don’t worry, everything will be fine.”

The Red Carpet Showdown

When they arrived at the venue, Qin Zhiyue and Tang Qingyue stepped onto the red carpet first, drawing the attention of countless cameras. Xu Luosu took advantage of the gap to grab Shen Zeyu’s hand and, in her high heels, broke through the blockade of flashes and ran into the venue.

Many reporters didn’t react in time; their lenses only captured the blurred silhouettes of two women running, with a faint glimpse of Xu Luosu’s leg garter—heroic and spirited, like a Chinese assassin in a Hollywood blockbuster.

“Quick, go film that newcomer!” photographers shouted, but the two had already reached the indoor corridor.

Panting heavily, Shen Zeyu leaned against her knees. “I can’t… wait, let me rest… let me rest…”

Qin Zhiyue and Tang Qingyue soon walked in. “I don’t know why you two were running as if zombies were behind you,” Qin Zhiyue joked. “Filming ‘Doomsday Lovers’?”

Tang Qingyue smoothed things over: “Teacher Shen doesn’t like being photographed; it’s normal.”

Suddenly, there was a commotion outside among the reporters: “It’s Shang Qiuchi… It’s Shang Qiuchi!”

Qin Zhiyue’s expression changed instantly. She turned to Shen Zeyu and frowned. “You and Boss Xu go ahead. I’ll wait for Meng Fei.” She didn’t want Shen Zeyu to have to deal with those “lunatics.”

But Shen Zeyu was unmoved. “We agreed to wait for Meng Fei, so we’ll wait together.”

A moment later, Shang Qiuchi, dressed in her finest, walked in arm-in-arm with Jin Yue (the head of Jin Yue platform). The groups came face-to-face.

Xu Luosu, Qin Zhiyue, and Tang Qingyue moved subtly to shield Shen Zeyu behind them. “Hello, Chairperson Jin,” they greeted.

Jin Yue was a sharp, thin woman who showed her age but still looked respectable. She ignored most of the group, her gaze falling on Xu Luosu. “The last time I saw you was at your eighteenth birthday party. In the blink of an eye, you’ve become a big girl.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you lately,” Jin Yue added. “You’re even more active than your eldest sister was at your age.”

Xu Luosu smiled sincerely. “Compared to Chairperson Jin, I’m just a child playing around.”

Jin Yue gave a light laugh. “Playing around is fine, but don’t overdo it. If you fall too hard and break a bone, it won’t be good.”

Xu Luosu took the criticism with a humble look: “Chairperson Jin is right; I’ll keep that in mind.” Then, she shifted her tone with a smile: “But I’m young. No matter how hard I fall, I can recover. However, when people reach the end of their run—like a giant whale in the ocean—once they hit a ship, it’s very hard to turn around. That’s when it’s truly easy to lose your life.”

Qin Zhiyue almost burst out laughing. Her little boss really knew how to bite back.

Jin Yue wasn’t angry. “A sharp tongue. I only hope that when trouble comes, your bones are as hard as your mouth.”

As they began to walk past, Jin Yue turned back to Shen Zeyu. “By the way, your name is… Jin Ze, right?”

Shen Zeyu didn’t answer, watching her quietly.

Jin Yue gave a joyful smirk. “I heard you write scripts. If no one wants your scripts after today, you can come work for me. The salary is higher than what you have now—three hundred thousand a year. How about it?”

The group’s expressions changed. Xu Luosu was about to snap back, but Shen Zeyu gripped her hand and spoke with a pleasant smile:

“Thank you for the kind offer, Chairperson Jin. It’s clear that you’re so poor that all you have left is money.”

“But I don’t think that day will ever come,” Shen Zeyu added. Her amber eyes flashed with a golden light, looking almost otherworldly. “People die, but I have never seen a merchant who works against the people’s livelihood enjoy fifty years of prosperity. For the first thirty years, you were a nobody; for the last thirty, you will be a nobody again.”

“But fifty years from now, and a hundred years from now, people will still remember the name Jin Ze.”