"Look over there, Shen Jinyue is truly the star of the show now, her smile is almost crooked from all the adulation."
Following Xu Qingyan's pointed finger, Pei Muchan indeed saw Shen Jinyue, surrounded by a crowd, with a smile more unstoppable than AK, making a stark contrast to the awkward Nian Shuyu standing by the side.
When it comes to causing a stir, the show's team really knows how to do it, what's the point of discussing voting when you can only vote for one at a time?
Xu Qingyan was almost certain that Song Enya intended to send Pei Muchan packing; they had no personal conflict, but it was just a clash of interests in the adult world.
As for Bai Jinze, the conflict between him and Xu Qingyan was mostly personal, though it did include some clashes of interest, but they weren't significant.
But what of it? Wasn't taking this money just a way to irk others?
There's really no need to be too normal in life; life is but a few decades long, if you don't go mad, others will just take you for a pushover. Just be yourself and leave the rest to karma.
.....
Modu, covered in torrential rain by the end of July.
This city was always brightly lit, under the grey and black sky stood towering buildings, with neon lights connecting to the taillights of cars in the distance, a spread of crimson.
As soon as she got into the car, Lin Wanzhou kicked off her high heels and leaned into the back seat. The car was warm inside, and she took off her coat with one hand while habitually activating the screen of her personal phone with the other.
After clearing the system background notifications, she skillfully took out her regularly used phone and found the link she had saved the day before. Just as she was about to click on it, she hesitated.
At this moment, her agent, Wen Yun, got into the passenger seat with a loud bang as she closed the car door.
"We can go now."
The driver was a girl in her early twenties, plain-looking but skilled behind the wheel. The car, having been started in advance, set off steadily and she glanced at the back seat out of habit.
Lin Wanzhou rested her head against the window, her eyes betraying a hint of fatigue. Her black, slightly curly hair was a messy spread, and the faint glow of the phone's screen illuminated her face, so pure it was hard to look away.
"Chen Lao Gou might have a bad reputation, but he does appreciate you. You still have to pay your respects, and with me around, you won't have any contact with Chen Lao Gou anyway."
It wasn't long before Wen Yun began her chatter, criticizing Lin Wanzhou for being too willful.
A sudden downpour, an ambiguous rainy corridor.
Each plot point was carefully marked by the production team, Lin Wanzhou only needed to casually tap, and she could fast-forward through all the footage of their day's interactions.
The car quieted down inside while outside, unbeknownst to them, it had started to rain again, the wipers moving slowly across the windshield.
The phone screen had already gone dark, Lin Wanzhou leaned back in the rear seat, exhausted, her eyes half-closed. A mysterious throb in her temples—she hadn't slept much yesterday, and her headache was starting again.
In her drowsiness, she seemed to return to junior high in the countryside.
The sky was aglow with a fiery sunset, the air thick with the pungent smell of incense, and the school basketball court was sadly underpopulated. A boy hopped over from the other side of the dirt wall, holding a dirt-yellow basketball in his arms.
She couldn't remember what was said at the time; the light was very dim, yet the boy's eyes were bright. He ran from half-court to the edge and picked up the basketball, tossing it.
Swish—the ball went straight through the net.
"Let's be friends," the boy turned around and smiled at her.
Regrettably, she transferred schools the next day. That was their last day together, and the first time she had mustered the courage to stand in front of him alone.
She had forgotten most things about that junior high, but she still vividly remembered the tremble of that afternoon; her ears were hot as the sunset burned from the sky to the tips of her heart.
It seemed like teenagers in their youth have superpowers; back then, even if the playground was full, she could spot him in an instant.
The draft papers held more than dense formulas, they also contained the name of a person who was very important to her, representing her most sincere and passionate emotions.
Lin Wanzhou loved sunsets, which is why she chose to meet him at sunset.
But unfortunately, in that sunset, it was the last day of their parting.
In the deepest layer of her desk hole, tucked within a useless book, was the letter that could never be sent, unknown to anyone and destined not to be read by anyone again.
In Chinese class, the teacher mentioned the phrase "April is the cruelest month," which she remembered for a long time. She really wanted to go back to that sunset and say one more thing to that boy.
I'm so glad I met you this spring.