Chapter 47 p2
Lu Duanjing nodded and stepped back into the room, turning her back to Wen Sigu.
Wen Sigu followed her inside, her gaze falling on the delicate skin of Lu Duanjing’s neck, the soft strands of hair clinging to her skin, the gentle curve of her back as she bent her head slightly.
Wen Sigu, who considered herself bold and fearless, felt a sudden surge of nervousness, her hands, usually so steady, now trembling slightly.
As she reached out to undo the button, her fingers, slightly unsteady, missed the small, round button, brushing against Lu Duanjing’s skin instead.
Her skin was warm, a stark contrast to the cool rain that had been falling on her all day, making Lu Duanjing shiver, her breath catching in her throat.
She instinctively turned her head to look at Wen Sigu.
Wen Sigu’s gaze met hers, their faces inches apart.
The room was dim, the sound of rain echoing through the open window.
They stood there, their eyes locked, their breaths mingling, the world fading away.
They almost kissed.
But neither of them made the first move.
From that day on, however, their relationship changed.
Lu Duanjing’s heart would race whenever she saw Wen Sigu, a flutter of excitement filling her chest.
She thought their days would continue like this, their love growing stronger with each passing day.
But fate had other plans.
A sudden tragedy shattered their peaceful existence.
It had been an ordinary day, the school closed for a holiday, Lu Duanjing reading in Wen Sigu’s office, when Wen Sigu rushed in, her expression urgent.
“Duanjing, I have to go.”
She grabbed her coat and turned to leave.
Lu Duanjing grabbed her wrist. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
Wen Sigu’s brow was furrowed. “The government is arresting people. They think someone’s hiding in the slums, and they’re firing their guns, trying to force them out. Several of my students live there. Wen Chong and I have to go.”
“Will you be in danger?”
“I’m a member of the Xu family. They won’t harm me.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“No, it’s too dangerous!”
“It’s not dangerous!” Lu Duanjing, her voice unusually firm, “If you’re not in danger, then I won’t be either! I’m the Lu family’s eldest daughter! Those people rely on my father’s influence! They wouldn’t dare touch me!”
“And with me there, they’ll be even more cautious.”
Lu Duanjing wasn’t just concerned about Wen Sigu’s safety, but also about her students.
During her time at the school, she had gotten to know them all.
Wen Sigu’s school was a free primary school, a rare and precious opportunity for the children of the slums.
Some of them, eager to learn, would walk for miles each day, arriving before dawn and leaving after dark.
One father, believing there was a tuition fee, had borrowed three sacks of rice from his neighbors, bringing his child to the school, hoping to give him a better future.
When he learned that the school was free, he had knelt on the ground, tears streaming down his face, thanking them profusely.
And there was an elderly man, his body small and frail, his skin weathered from years of hardship, who had hesitantly asked if he could also attend.
He didn’t have any grand ambitions, he simply wanted to learn how to write his own name.
Everyone deserved to know how to write their own name.
Seeing their faces, their hopes and dreams, Lu Duanjing had realized the significance of Wen Sigu’s work, the impact she was having on their lives.
So, she was worried about their safety.
But they arrived too late.
As they reached the slums, Lu Duanjing saw the father who had borrowed three sacks of rice lying dead on the ground.
And his child, the child he had desperately wanted to give a better future, the child who had just learned how to write his name, was dead in his arms.
And Hu Tou, the little boy who had asked Wen Sigu to give him a new name, was also dead.
He had thought his name wasn’t nice enough, and Wen Sigu had spent days thinking of a new one, a name he would never hear.
Lu Duanjing looked at his small, lifeless body, discarded like trash in a corner.
And the slums were filled with bodies, the dead and the dying.
Old people, children, women, men, even infants, their lives cut short before they had even begun.
Snow fell on the desolate landscape, a bleak and unforgiving winter.
Government officials, like bandits, were raiding homes, their guns firing indiscriminately, the residents fleeing in terror.
Like withered stalks of grain, they fell, one after another.
The screams of the terrified, the blood staining the ground, the soldiers firing on their own people, the falling snow…
Lu Duanjing watched, the coldness seeping into her heart, each breath a painful reminder of the world’s cruelty.
Tears blurred her vision.
This world…
This cruel, unforgiving world!
Xin Yao, completely immersed in her role, felt Lu Duanjing’s pain, her despair, as if she were truly there, witnessing the horrors firsthand.
But unlike Lu Duanjing, she knew she was acting. These people, however, were living this nightmare.
Tears streamed down her face.
Just then, a gunshot echoed through the set.
It wasn’t a real gun, of course, just a prop.
Most of the guns were fake, firing blanks, but a few, used for specific shots, fired plastic pellets, harmless from a distance, but still painful at close range.
The sound of the gunshot, echoing through the air, made Xin Yao’s head spin.
But she was still in character, her face streaked with tears, about to continue her performance.
Then, she heard a commotion nearby.
The sound, growing louder, broke through her concentration, pulling her out of her character, back to reality.
She looked up, her vision blurry with tears, and saw several people running towards her, their voices filled with concern.
“Ms. Xin! Are you okay?!”
“Oh my god, she’s bleeding! Get the first-aid kit!”
“It’s not too deep, thankfully! Where’s the medic? Get a medic!”
As their frantic voices registered in her mind, Xin Yao looked down and saw a small tear in her skirt, blood staining the fabric.
She must have been hit by a stray pellet, she thought.
Someone helped her up, and she finally felt the sting of the wound.
She smiled at the concerned faces around her, trying to reassure them.
“It’s okay, it’s just a scratch. It doesn’t hurt.”
“Don’t smile, Ms. Xin! You’re bleeding!” the woman supporting her said, her voice filled with worry. Xin Yao’s skirt was stained with blood. If it had been her, she would have been crying.
“Let’s get you to a chair.”
Xin Yao nodded, the pain intensifying. She let herself be led away.
Xu Jingyu, not in this scene, had been having her makeup touched up.
She had been standing there, her eyes closed, when she heard a commotion and saw people running towards the set.
Then, she heard the panicked shouts.
“Ms. Xin is injured!”
“She’s been shot!”
“First-aid kit! Medic!”
The frantic voices made her mind go blank, her body tensing, her breath catching in her throat.
For a moment, she felt nothing, then a wave of panic washed over her, her heart pounding, her body trembling, as if she had been plunged into icy water.
Instinct took over, and she pushed past the makeup artist, running towards Xin Yao, her coat billowing around her, the cold air stinging her face, her usually calm eyes filled with a frantic fear.
She ran so fast that she bumped into a metal box, the impact jarring her, the pain echoing through her body.
But she ignored it, her only focus on reaching Xin Yao.
Her sudden, frantic dash startled the onlookers, who stood there, watching her disappear into the crowd, their eyes wide with surprise.
Xu Jingyu reached Xin Yao.
The crowd parted, making way for her.
And finally, she saw Xin Yao, sitting in a chair, seemingly unharmed.
Relief washed over her, her racing heart slowing, her legs suddenly weak.
She walked towards Xin Yao, her steps unsteady, and knelt before her, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
She looked like she was about to cry.
Xin Yao, seeing her expression, knew that Xu Jingyu was on the verge of a complete breakdown.
She removed her hand from the bandage, cupping Xu Jingyu’s face, forcing her to meet her gaze.
“Xu Jingyu! Look at me! I’m fine!”
Xu Jingyu, her gaze meeting Xin Yao’s, her breathing still ragged, a single tear rolled down her cheek.
The set fell silent.
The crew, who had been crowding around Xin Yao, looked at each other, their expressions a mix of confusion and awkwardness.
They suddenly felt like intruders.
And Ms. Xu was crying!
This was Xu Jingyu, the aloof and untouchable movie queen!
Known for her cold demeanor, her lack of emotion, her mysterious aura, her powerful connections.
And yet, here she was, crying over Xin Yao.
It was a shocking display of vulnerability.
Were they really that close?
The scene was so unexpected, so out of character for Xu Jingyu, that the crew couldn’t help but wonder: Are they actually dating?
The cinematographer and the assistant director, hiding in a corner, their hearts filled with a mix of worry and excitement, whispered to each other.
“Holy shit, I think we’ve stumbled upon something real!”
Xin Yao, however, didn’t care about their speculations, about the potential for rumors and scandals.
She had found Pei Yu again, in this world, and she wouldn’t let her go, wouldn’t hide their connection.
And Xu Jingyu, who had been secretly hoping for a scandal, a public declaration of their relationship, but hadn’t dared to hope, also didn’t care what others thought.
She simply looked at Xin Yao, her eyes filled with a raw, unfiltered emotion.
The wind and the falling snow seemed to amplify her feelings, their weight settling in her heart.
The nameless longing she had carried for so long, the emotion she hadn’t been able to understand, finally bloomed, its roots reaching deep into her soul.
As she looked at Xin Yao, safe and unharmed, she finally understood.
This feeling, this overwhelming surge of emotion, was love.
The feeling she had felt when she first saw Xin Yao’s photo, the feeling that had filled her every moment since then, the unspoken longing that had haunted her dreams, it was love.
I loved you from the moment I saw you.
Even though I don’t remember, my heart, my instincts, remember you.
Even without my memories, I would fall in love with you again and again, in every lifetime.
And how could I have taken so long to realize that I’ve always loved you?
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