Jiang Tong lifted her eyes.
Xie Weiyi had looped around from behind the sofa at some point, seemingly heading over to grab some fruit, and casually dropped off the glass of water as she passed by.
Yet Xie Weiyi didn’t look at her once the entire time, keeping her gaze fixed firmly on the fruit platter in her hands.
Her voice was utterly devoid of ripples: “Your lips look a bit dry, drink some water.” With that, she turned around and headed back to her own seat.
The cup of warm water left behind was steaming softly.
Through the rising steam, Jiang Tong watched the movie’s light and shadows flicker across Xie Weiyi’s face.
On screen, the male and female leads were undergoing their first honest conversation since separating, and the background music grew soothing and hopeful.
Listening to the moving dialogue, Jiang Tong slowly reached out her hand to wrap around the cup.
The warmth traveled through her palm, winding all the way up to thaw out the heart that had been shivering in the cold rain for far too long.
Clutching the cup, Jiang Tong didn’t drink right away, greedily soaking in that warmth. Through the hazy mist of steam, her gaze drifted uncontrollably toward Xie Weiyi’s direction.
As it happened, Xie Weiyi was looking back up too.
Their gazes collided unexpectedly in the dim lighting, separated by a relatively short distance.
On screen, the female lead’s voice carried the relief that followed choking back tears: “…We missed each other for all these years, not because we didn’t love each other, but because we loved too deeply—loving so much we feared hurting the other person, and thus chose what we thought was the best way.”
Xie Weiyi’s eyes grew brighter and brighter within the shifting light and shadows, churning with full emotions.
Jiang Tong understood it: Xie Weiyi wanted to talk with her, open and honest, just like that loving couple in the movie.
Jiang Tong’s heart felt as though it had been scorched, her fingers tightening slightly around the cup.
She was moments away from drowning in Xie Weiyi’s gaze.
The grievances accumulated over seven years and the unspeakable love crashed frantically inside her chest, nearly breaking past her throat.
She knew what Xie Weiyi wanted to discuss, but she also knew that once certain words were spoken aloud, they could never be taken back.
The fragile facade of peace they were currently maintaining with such caution would be utterly shattered. And after it shattered, would there be peace, or would a much more violent storm welcome them instead?
Jiang Tong had no confidence in the answer.
The chaotic thoughts left Jiang Tong’s mind a tangled mess. All morning long, she had remained in a state of high tension, waiting for the conversation Xie Weiyi would initiate.
Yet right up until the morning movie viewing concluded—right up until lunch was finished—Xie Weiyi made no move whatsoever.
This unresolved waiting was far more agonizing than a direct interrogation. Like a tightly wound string, Jiang Tong had no idea when she might snap.
In the afternoon, Uncle Lin arrived once again to guide everyone in continuing their respective rattan-weaving projects.
Jiang Tong sat quietly in her own spot, while this time, Xie Weiyi sat directly opposite her.
Xie Weiyi still held her half-finished piece of the phoenix tree (wutong). With Uncle Lin stepping in to offer some guidance, the trunk portion looked a bit more three-dimensional. While it still couldn’t be called exquisite, one could easily tell a lot of heart had been put into it.
The atmosphere was peaceful at first, everyone chatting in low tones while working with their hands.
That was until Yu Ningzhi sidled up beside Xie Weiyi with her own rattan piece, coaxing her with her customary coquettish tone: “Sister Aine, can you teach me?”
Feeling disgusted by the listening device Yu Ningzhi had planted on her, Xie Weiyi declined politely: “You can ask Uncle Lin.”
Noticing her coldness, Yu Ningzhi’s expression sagged instantly. Shifting her gaze, she landed her eyes on Jiang Tong across from them and asked with a bubbly, smiling inquiry: “By the way, Sister Jiang Tong, I’ve always been curious—does that character ‘Tong’ in your name have any special meaning?”
Her voice was crisp, sounding exceptionally clear in the relatively quiet crafting environment, instantly capturing everyone’s attention.
Jiang Tong raised her eyes to look at Yu Ningzhi.
Following that, Yu Ningzhi reached out to pick up Xie Weiyi’s wutong tree rattan piece, shook it in her hand, and continued with a smile: “Does it mean the wutong tree?”
[Why is Yu Ningzhi suddenly asking this…]
[Wait, Aine wove a wutong tree—wasn’t it because she missed STAR Girl Group, but because of Jiang Tong?]
[I feel like Xie Weiyi wouldn’t be this direct. It must be Yu Ningzhi purposely trying to push the two of them together.]
[To the person above, I think the chances of her stirring up trouble are higher. The way she looks at Aine is definitely not innocent; how could she possibly try to set Jiang Tong up with her?]
Jiang Tong and Xie Weiyi froze at virtually the exact same moment.
Jiang Tong felt as though her blood had frozen for a fraction of a second. She stared at the crooked wutong tree in Yu Ningzhi’s hand, then glanced swiftly toward Xie Weiyi.
“There is no meaning whatsoever,” Jiang Tong withdrew her gaze instantly, lowering her head to continue weaving as her voice remained flat without a trace of a ripple. “My family just picked it at random.”
“Really?” Yu Ningzhi blinked, her expression looking somewhat disappointed.
Yet she didn’t give up her probing, shifting her gaze toward Xie Weiyi with an intimate tone: “Sister Aine, then why did you weave a wutong tree?”
Xie Weiyi raised her eyes to meet Yu Ningzhi’s, those gorgeous glass-colored eyes completely devoid of any amusement at the moment.
Catching Xie Weiyi’s gaze, the smile on Yu Ningzhi’s face stiffened for a second before she curled her lip.
Carrying a hint of grievance in her tone, she spoke in a volume meant only for the two of them: “Sister Aine, why are you looking at me like that? I’m just being kind, wanting to help Sister Jiang Tong remember things… Besides, isn’t this helping you too? Don’t you want to recognize each other?”
She bit down exceptionally lightly on those final words, “recognize each other.”
Xie Weiyi’s fingertips curled inward slightly, a flash of fleeting hostility darting through the depths of her eyes, though she quickly suppressed it.
Twitching the corners of her lips into a standard smile, Xie Weiyi kept her voice lowered just as much and replied: “You’re overthinking it.”
She couldn’t afford to tear away the mask with Yu Ningzhi just yet. Behind Yu Ningzhi stood Ocean TV, that massive behemoth harboring numerous secrets.
Sartingle the snake before striking only placed Jiang Tong in greater danger, and any offensive action against Yu Ningzhi and Ocean TV couldn’t be initiated by her.
However, Yu Ningzhi’s repeated probing and provocations today—especially her seemingly innocent yet deeply lethal actions targeting Jiang Tong—had crossed Xie Weiyi’s bottom line.
She had originally intended to wait until the evidence was more solid and her layout more thorough before making a move, but she simply couldn’t stand seeing Yu Ningzhi sprinkling salt onto Jiang Tong’s wounds over and over like this.
Someone with Yu Ningzhi’s personality needed to take a beating before she would ever learn to behave.
Gazing at Yu Ningzhi’s hiddenly triumphant profile, Xie Weiyi resolved to advance her timeline.
Thus, as the crafting session neared its end, Xie Weiyi found an excuse to step away briefly with Su Leli, completely out of the others’ sight.
“She crossed the line today,” Xie Weiyi stated concisely.
Su Leli nodded, having naturally witnessed the afternoon’s events as well: “Actually, eavesdropping on you two yesterday was already bad enough, but today is even worse—daring to say things like that in front of live broadcasting cameras.
“Yu Ningzhi clearly wants to guide Jiang Tong into talking about your survival show days. Who knows what her objective is… Is she trying to pick at Jiang Tong’s scars? Or is she simply jealous and trying to stir up trouble?”
“I don’t care what her objective is,” Xie Weiyi inhaled deeply, casting her gaze toward the window where a fine drizzle had started falling once more from the sky. “Let’s move up the originally planned live call-in lucky draw segment.”
Pondering for a moment, Su Leli clearly hesitated: “We can do that, but you need to think carefully—advancing the plan means we have less preparation time and face higher risks. Besides, what if things spiral out of control in that kind of public setting?”
“Spiraling out of control is still better than watching Jiang Tong get repeatedly provoked by Yu Ningzhi,” Xie Weiyi said firmly, her eye rims tinged with redness.
“Leli, I can’t wait anymore. Every time I watch her force herself to remain calm, it feels like my heart is being carved up by a knife. I have to regain the initiative as soon as possible, at least… to let her know she isn’t alone, and that she can trust me and lean on me.”
Sighing, Su Leli ultimately nodded: “Alright, I’ll go make the arrangements. You should mentally prepare yourself too; tomorrow night is going to get very lively.”
Having concluded their discussion, the two returned to the living room one after the other.
A few minutes later, Liang Xin clapped his hands to grab everyone’s attention before announcing the conclusion of today’s crafting segment.
“One more thing: syncing an adjustment to our schedule with everyone,” Liang Xin said, holding his cue card with his customary smile. “Seeing how smoothly everyone’s rattan-weaving projects are coming along, I figure everyone will finish them tomorrow, right?
“Right on schedule, tomorrow evening the island will be hosting a large-scale bonfire party—it’s going to be so lively! The production team discussed it and decided to move the prize-drawing segment, originally planned for the end of this season, forward to tomorrow night so it takes place alongside the bonfire party! This way, all of you and our audience friends can celebrate together online and offline!”
“Wow! A bonfire party! Live call-ins!” Yu Ningzhi was the first to clap excitedly.
Exchanging a glance, Xie Weiyi and Su Leli both revealed tacit smiles.
“So, during the final crafting class tomorrow afternoon, everyone needs to hurry up and finish the work in your hands,” Liang Xin continued. “As for tonight, we’ve arranged a more relaxed segment. Based on the movie we watched this morning, everyone can freely chat about your thoughts, talk about love, separation, and other such perspectives—speak your minds without any constraints.”
Following dinner, the group gathered around the living room sofa, the ambient lighting creating a warm and relaxed atmosphere.
After delivering his opening remarks, Liang Xin guided the conversation to transition naturally outward from the movie itself.
Song Anna spoke up first, linking arms with Bai Yu as her tone turned gentle and resolute: “I think what touched me most about the movie was how, even after being separated for so long, the two of them still reserved the most important place in their hearts for each other.
“Love isn’t always about being side-by-side every single second; sometimes it’s knowing you’re out there, and as long as you’re doing well, I have peace of mind. But if it’s possible, of course we should still try our absolute best to stay together without leaving any regrets.”
As she spoke, her gaze met Bai Yu’s, overflowing with tender affection.
[Anna and Bai Yu are such a perfect match! 555]
[I’m shipping this so hard! They are the absolute best definition of love: supporting each other and achieving things together.]
Nodding in agreement, Bai Yu added: “Communication is crucial. The biggest issue with the two main leads in the film was their lack of communication—self-righteously assuming what was best for the other person, which ended up causing even deeper harm.”
“Well said!” Su Leli applauded enthusiastically, then nudged Xie Weiyi beside her with her elbow and asked, “What do you think?”