[Is Aine missing the STAR girl group? I remember STAR’s group logo was an abstract wutong tree.]
[It definitely is! She has always been very sentimental and cared a lot about the group back then!]
[555 I’m tearing up. Although STAR was short-lived, it was also the youth of many people.]
[You guys are being a bit ky (socially awkward/oversharing) (whispers)]
[So annoying. Is this a romance variety show or some girl group reunion show? No wait, that girl group disbanded two years ago, lol]
The bullet comments boiled over because of Xie Weiyi’s mention of the “wutong tree,” turning noisy as most people interpreted Xie Weiyi’s action as nostalgia for the disbanded girl group STAR.
This was reasonable and logical. After all, STAR’s official logo was indeed an abstract tree that had once appeared on their albums, posters, and the background of every music-show stage, serving as an indelible symbol in the hearts of all group fans.
However, as the youngest member (maknae) of STAR, Yu Ningzhi did not think so.
Stealthily raising her eyes, she cast a complex gaze toward Xie Weiyi’s focused profile, then swept a quick glance across at Jiang Tong opposite her. That unresigned feeling in her heart wound around her like vines, binding her tighter and tighter.
Group fans didn’t know, and the audience wasn’t clear, but Yu Ningzhi knew crystal clear in her heart that the truth wasn’t that simple.
She was one of the five members who formed STAR back then and a direct witness to that period of time; she knew the reason why Xie Weiyi wove a wutong tree better than anyone else.
Back then, the company had them all five participate in designing the group logo together, providing several backup options: stars, wings, an abstract symbol composed of the four letters “STAR,” and that tree with simple lines.
While the other members were still hesitating and discussing, Xie Weiyi’s finger pointed at the sketch depicting the tree without the slightest hesitation.
“This one,” Xie Weiyi spoke, her tone carrying her consistent, slightly accented decisiveness.
“Why pick this one, Aine?” their manager had asked.
Xie Weiyi’s gaze landed on the spreading branches of the sketch. After being silent for a few seconds, she answered irrelevantly: “Just pick this one. If not this, I quit.”
Later, after forming the group and doing interviews, Xie Weiyi, as the leader, was asked why she chose a tree as the group logo. She gave the official answer emphasized by their manager: “Trees have vitality.”
Yet all five of them knew it wasn’t true.
Or rather, not entirely.
Yu Ningzhi’s vision flickered, recalling an even earlier scene in the crowded, noisy dressing room behind the scenes of the talent show, where the spicy aroma of hot pot drifted through the air.
Several contestants they were close with sat together in a circle, the steam making their cheeks flush red. Yu Ningzhi was there too.
Xie Weiyi’s Mandarin back then was far less fluent than it was now. Across the billowing white vapor, she asked Jiang Tong, who sat opposite her, very earnestly: “Jiang Tong, your name, why is it Tong [wutong/paulownia]?”
Jiang Tong was lowering her head, taking small bites of a fish ball. Hearing this, she lifted her face, her eyes looking misty yet very bright behind the steam.
“Because there was a wutong tree in the courtyard of my hometown. My grandma told me I was born the exact same year that tree was planted, so I’m named Jiang Tong.”
Putting down her chopsticks, she gestured with her hand: “I loved that tree so much when I was little. I felt like it was me, and Grandma even tied a swing for me under the tree, but it wasn’t very sturdy and made me fall a few times.”
“And, and when the wutong flowers bloom, they smell exceptionally good. When the flowers fall to the ground, I collect them and suck the nectar inside. It’s so sweet.”
When Jiang Tong talked about these things, Xie Weiyi smiled along, her glass-colored eyes staring unblinkingly at Jiang Tong.
Then Xie Weiyi said: “That tree must be very tall and big now.”
The smile on Jiang Tong’s face faded slightly. Lowering her eyes, she unconsciously stirred the oil dipping sauce in her bowl with her chopsticks, her voice dropping a fraction: “It’s gone. Grandma passed away last year, and I used that wutong tree to build Grandma’s coffin.”
The lively hot pot table fell quiet for an instant, with only the bubbling sound of the soup boiling away.
Xie Weiyi said nothing more, simply watching Jiang Tong’s lowered face quietly.
The hazy steam blurred Xie Weiyi’s expression, and in those eyes surged emotions that Yu Ningzhi didn’t understand then, nor even now.
The next day, Xie Weiyi somehow managed to get a small jar of honey. Its color was clear and golden, giving off a faint, fresh fragrance once opened.
Wrapped in an exquisite little gift box, Xie Weiyi shoved it into Jiang Tong’s hands after finishing a dance practice.
“Wutong flower nectar,” Xie Weiyi said.
Her earlobes were slightly red as she tried her best to make her pronunciation crisp and standard: “In the future, I’ll buy a big house and plant an even bigger wutong tree in the courtyard for you.”
The other contestants laughed and teased, and Jiang Tong was stunned as well.
Jiang Tong looked at the warm glass jar in her hands, then looked up at Xie Weiyi’s exceptionally serious face, taking a long time to react.
The afternoon sunlight slanted through the practice room windows, landing upon them as dust motes danced in the light beam, then hopped onto their shoulders.
Jiang Tong suddenly smiled, a shallow blush rising on her cheeks: “Alright then, let’s do it together.”
Though those scenes were separated by many years, remembering them now remained dazzlingly clear.
Later on, Jiang Tong had an accident, withdrew from the competition, cut off all contact with everyone, and the talent show only issued a cold, indifferent announcement of “amnesia.”
Xie Weiyi refused to believe it, searching everywhere for any trace of Jiang Tong, crying and fainting over and over again in breakdown.
Now Jiang Tong had appeared once more, shedding all her halo, carrying a body full of injuries and illness, looking completely different from that Jiang Tong of yesteryear who sat behind the hot pot steam with sparkling eyes talking about the wutong tree.
Yet Xie Weiyi’s heart and mind remained entirely filled with her.
Yu Ningzhi couldn’t figure it out.
Why?
Why, after all these years, after Xie Weiyi had seen a broader world, gained more flowers and applause, and been surrounded by all kinds of even more outstanding people, was she still unable to let go of that abortive romance of the past?
And why did she still have to use such a clumsy, obscure way to probe right now?
Unresigned, Yu Ningzhi bit down on her lower lip with enough force to almost leave tooth marks.
The disobedient rattan vine in her hand was pulled hard by her, making a faint snap sound and almost breaking, prompting even Lin Bo not far away to cast a concerned glance.
At the same time, Jiang Tong, sitting diagonally opposite her, appeared entirely absorbed while her thoughts had already drifted far away.
Inevitably, Jiang Tong also recalled that jar of wutong flower nectar, along with Xie Weiyi’s eyes filled with utter sincerity and affection.
Taking a gentle breath, she pressed down that untimely sweetness rising from the bottom of her heart and continued focusing on the rattan weaving in her hands.
The afternoon handicraft time quickly drew to a close, with most people’s works only half-finished.
Lin Bo reviewed and commented on the eight people’s rattan weaving one by one, then said goodbye: “Complex rattan weaving requires patience and time. Let’s wrap up today’s handicrafts here; the production team will properly keep everyone’s semi-finished products, and we’ll continue tomorrow afternoon. Goodbye, everyone.”
[Thanks, Teacher Lin!]
[I support this combination of travel and intangible cultural heritage by the production team; we should promote the good things of our country more.]
[Does Teacher Lin take custom orders? I want to commission an OC piece of rattan handicraft.]
[The person above is incredible, the God of E-commerce!]
[321, put up the link!]
“Evening time has arrived. Everyone go rest and replenish your energy,” Liang Xin said, pointing at some staff members holding kraft paper not far away. “The main event today—the beach treasure hunt game—is about to begin!”
Consequently, the group headed toward the rest area on the beach, where the previous freshly squeezed juices had all been replaced with warm, fresh soups, and the freshly cut fruits were replaced by local delicacies and snacks.
Jiang Tong chewed on a piece of nine-layer cake, squinting her eyes in delicious satisfaction.
As she reached for a second piece, Xie Weiyi, standing a few meters away, stood up and beckoned to Yu Ningzhi: “Ningzhi, come here for a moment.”
Jiang Tong cast a curious glance, seeing the two walk over to the coconut tree where the beach loungers had previously been placed and whisper about something.
After resting, Liang Xin announced the use of a drawing method to determine the groups.
The coincidence of being grouped with Xie Weiyi consecutively on the first day did not repeat itself today.
Looking at the slip of paper in her hand that read “Xie An,” Jiang Tong breathed a sigh of relief. Being in a group with Xie An meant the task process would be dull but safe. Tasks requiring physical stamina could be handed over to Xie An, leaving her responsible for intellectual labor to solve puzzles.
——She felt her brain was still pretty smart.
However, before Jiang Tong’s breath of relief could fully escape, Yu Ningzhi’s sudden request caught her off guard.
“Director, Director!” Yu Ningzhi called out. She waved the card she had drawn, which had “Xie Weiyi” written on it.
She added, “I want to change my teammate for tonight.”
Xia Yuan paused for a moment, then quietly raised her hand: “Then I want to change too. I want to be in a group with Sister Jiang Tong.”
Hearing this, Su Leli—who had been grouped with Xia Yuan—exaggeratedly clutched her chest, making a deeply wounded expression: “What?! Yuanyuan, you don’t want to be in a group with me?!”
Feigning a few sobs, she leaned her head against Xia Yuan’s shoulder.
Startled by Su Leli’s series of actions and left at a loss, Xia Yuan blushed and waved her hands repeatedly: “No, no, no, I do want to, then I won’t change.”
[Mom! I’m dizzy from sweetness!]
[Artist Su casts a gentle hook, and Xia Yuan bites. Wuhu~~~]
[High-achieving elder sister and cute little puppy girl. Hehehe, nice.]
“Director Sister, can’t we change it! I want to be in a group with Sister Anna! We haven’t seen each other in so long and have so many, many secrets to talk about—I’m bursting with them!” Yu Ningzhi grabbed the director’s arm and began acting spoiled.
Then she blinked at Xie Weiyi: “Right, right, Sister Aine?”
Imitating a certain pop star’s meme, Xie Weiyi gracefully supported her forehead and cooperatively put on a bit of helplessness: “Ningzhi, stop acting up. Rules are rules.”
Yu Ningzhi wouldn’t let up: “Rules are dead, but people are alive! Sister Aine, you’re awesome no matter who you’re grouped with, so just indulge me!”
Watching their back-and-forth exchange, Jiang Tong suddenly recalled what the two had chatted about during the break. This whole partner-swapping segment was probably what they had discussed.
With it none of her business, Jiang Tong stood to the side holding a spectator’s mindset.
Yet the next second, Yu Ningzhi’s rolling gaze suddenly locked onto her.