Fang Rulian canceled all her upcoming interviews. She took a shower, got dressed, and headed downstairs.
The peak of her hunger had passed; she didn’t feel particularly hungry now, but the limpness in her limbs didn’t lie. She grabbed a quick bite and searched for nearby cat cafes on her map.
“Lu Ke,” at the cat cafe, Fang Rulian’s mood brightened as a kitten rubbed against her. She couldn’t help but invite her friend in a playful, high-pitched voice, “Are you free? Come out and play. There are kittens here!”
A slightly cold and irritable voice came from the other end: “What’s so fun about cats?”
The university Lu Ke attended was only a few subway stations away. Ten minutes later, Fang Rulian looked up to see Lu Ke pushing through the door in shoe covers. She mockingly mimicked her tone from the phone: “What’s so fun about cats~”
Lu Ke hung her bag on the rack by the door and looked down at the two “balls of fur” curled up in the crook of Fang Rulian’s legs. “You already bought the two-person set; it would be a waste if I didn’t come.”
She grabbed a teaser wand from the counter and squatted opposite Fang Rulian, the bell at the tip of the wand occasionally passing over a kitten’s head. “Didn’t go to an interview today?”
Stroking the kitten in her arms, Fang Rulian poured out all the bitterness of her job search over the past few days.
“So, what’s next?” The kitten wasn’t interested in the bell wand; Lu Ke sat cross-legged, feeling a bit defeated.
Fang Rulian said directly, “I want to change careers.” Even though she hadn’t officially entered one yet.
Lu Ke wasn’t surprised. She only told her to be careful and not get scammed by some black-hearted company.
Returning home that night, Fang Rulian tried hard to recall events from her past life. Those fragmented memories slowly pieced together a blurry timeline. She sighed, got up to work on her resume, and practiced acting in front of the mirror while applying makeup. Finally, she found the audition notice Lu Ke had sent her for the female lead and submitted her resume.
Director Fan Qi was a recognized master in the industry. His production teams were always top-tier, and almost every work of his achieved both critical acclaim and box-office success.
However, this director’s taste in leading ladies remained consistent—he loved girls of the “pure” type, those with an innocent and harmless aura. Because of this, Fang Rulian hadn’t even bothered to apply in her previous life; she knew her style didn’t match his preference.
But this time, Fang Rulian wanted to try.
The next day, she received a response for a background actor sign-up. Because of her outstanding looks, she was quickly chosen as a “featured extra,” and then promoted to a “foreground extra”—meaning she’d get a few seconds of screen time and occasionally snag a line or two in certain productions.
In this life, her pace of entering the entertainment industry was much slower than the last, but she wasn’t in a hurry. She reported to the set on time every day, clutching her few pages of script and pondering them repeatedly. When she encountered experienced veterans, she would politely ask for advice.
Seeing how hard-working she was and how beautiful her face was, one veteran realized she wasn’t someone who would linger in the extra pool for long. He offered a tip: “Your acting is too ‘mechanical’; you’re too stiff. You aren’t even famous yet, but you carry such a heavy ‘idol burden.'”
Fang Rulian’s “idol burden” had only developed after she became famous. She specialized in idol dramas—both fantasy and modern. On and off-screen, fans and passersby were constantly comparing beauty, and anti-fans would use “ugly” screenshots to attack each other. Slowly, Fang Rulian had started posing while acting.
She thanked the veteran and let out a heavy breath.
She began to consciously break this habit. She stopped deliberately maintaining her image and instead let herself be fully immersed in the role, even going out of her way to find an “undignified” state for her performances.
During this period, talent agencies and studios reached out to her. Fang Rulian passed on her former company first, and after picking through the rest, found no reliable options.
In the blink of an eye, the Gaokao (College Entrance Exam) arrived.
She hadn’t seen Fang Zhiyi for over a month.
…
As the final exam ended, the school gates were crowded with parents waiting with flowers. It was hot; even standing in the shade, one couldn’t avoid breaking into a sweat.
Inside the school, though the exams were over, the teachers hadn’t finished the count yet, so the students were still gathered in the open space below the buildings, held back by a cordon.
Amidst the swaying shadows of the trees, a girl in a white shirt with a high ponytail stood quietly. Fragments of light filtered through the gaps in the leaves, dancing across her porcelain-white cheeks and making her skin look as translucent as snow.
Shi Yanluo scanned the area before spotting her. She walked over excitedly and tapped her shoulder: “Fang Zhiyi!”
Fang Zhiyi turned around, offered a polite smile, and moved aside to let the shade cover Shi Yanluo as well.
“How did it go?”
The question was pure courtesy; Fang Zhiyi was a top student ranked in the top thirty of her grade—she would do well regardless.
“Mhm…” Fang Zhiyi let out a soft breath. “How about you?”
“I’m okay. I felt the Gaokao papers were easier than our practice ones.” She held her book bag. “Finally, it’s over. By the way, what are your plans now? Do you want to come out and play?”
“I haven’t thought about it yet.”
Fang Zhiyi was always sparse with her words—she didn’t refuse, but she didn’t agree either. Shi Yanluo was used to it.
There was finally some movement at the front of the student crowd; the cordon seemed about to open. Fang Zhiyi had intended to return to the dorm for a good rest, but her phone suddenly rang.
Looking down, she paused. Her beautiful lashes trembled under the shade before lowering to mask her dark pupils.
“Sister.” Her throat was dry, and her voice sounded a bit low.
As usual, the person on the other end was giving her orders in that characteristically brisk pace: “I’m outside the school, at the front gate. Come out.”
“Okay.” The answer was still just a few simple words, but the corner of her mouth unconsciously curled upward.
She followed the crowd toward the school gate.
Seeing her change direction, Shi Yanluo found it strange. “Eh? Didn’t you just say you were going back to the dorm? Why are you going out?”
Fang Zhiyi’s tone was light: “My sister is here to pick me up.”
The school gate was a sea of people, packed with students and parents.
Fang Rulian had always loved being pretty; she feared the sun and hated being squeezed in a crowd smelling of sweat. Fang Zhiyi pushed straight through the bustling throng to the row of plane trees across from the gate.
She spotted Fang Rulian under the shade at a glance—she was wearing a bright yellow dress, her thick hair specifically curled like lush seaweed, eye-catchingly beautiful. She leaned against a tree holding flowers, her posture relaxed, looking as if she were there for a casual confession.
She was always like this—every tiny movement looked like a meticulously designed movie shot. Just by standing there quietly, she could easily grab everyone’s attention.
Indeed, quite a few people around were already stealing glances at her. Fang Zhiyi noticed at least ten.
Taking a deep breath, Fang Zhiyi walked quickly toward her. When she was three meters away, the woman finally looked up.
“Fang Zhiyi!” Fang Rulian called her name happily. Before she could offer any auspicious words about passing the exam with flying colors, the girl lunged forward and hugged her tightly.
The force was somewhat reckless. Fang Rulian struggled to move the bouquet in her arms out of the way. “Hey, hey! Don’t crush the flowers!”
Thinking the pressure of the Gaokao must have been too much, Rulian let the girl’s arms slide from her shoulders to her nape, encircling her like a soft shackle. The girl pressed her forehead against Rulian’s, a gesture filled with the stubbornness Rulian knew well.
Stunned by the embrace, Fang Rulian forgot for a moment that this action was actually inappropriate.
The plane tree leaves rustled overhead, and the sunlight leaking through the gaps danced upon them. Fang Rulian patted the girl’s back and said softly, “Alright, alright, the exam is over. Relax a bit.”
The girl finally let go. Catching a glimpse of Rulian’s unnatural expression, she seemed to wake from a dream and took a half-step back.
“Here, your favorite lilies.” Fang Rulian handed the flowers into the girl’s arms. “I wish our Fang Zhiyi success on the honor roll, a bright future, and that all your dreams come true!”
Fang Zhiyi’s gaze fell on the lilies, then crawled up those fair arms to land on the face she had thought of day and night.
She smiled: “Yes. Dreams come true.”
Fang Rulian didn’t stay outside the gate for long. Before the exam, Fang Zhiyi had told Fang Hong and Mu Yunshu not to come pick her up because the dorm had a dinner party that night, and there was a graduation ceremony the next morning. She told them to come then to avoid unnecessary travel.
Fang Rulian had come on her own initiative.
Having not seen her sister for a long time, it was natural to miss her.
The two walked slowly toward where the car was parked.
Fang Rulian couldn’t help but reach out and pinch Fang Zhiyi’s wrist. Her thumb and index finger rubbed up and down several times, her fingertips feeling the thin circle of bone. “Still so thin.”
Fang Zhiyi’s thinness was different from hers.
Fang Rulian looked thin, but her arms had muscle, and below her waistline was the faint contour of abs—a sleekness carrying a sense of power. Fang Zhiyi, however, was thin to the point of appearing fragile. Her shoulder blades were faintly visible at her collar, her wrists looked like they might snap if bent, and even the lines of her neck carried a breakable delicacy.
She hadn’t been this thin before the rebirth.
Fang Rulian couldn’t tell if this was just the “slimming down” unique to adolescence or if Fang Zhiyi was truly malnourished.
She gave a blunt command: “Now that the exams are over and you have time, eat on time and exercise on time.”
“Mhm.” The girl holding the flowers answered softly. The next moment, the topic took a sudden, sharp turn. “Sister, why did you decide to go to Luwei City again?”
Fang Rulian’s eyelid twitched slightly.
“Luwei is great. It’s a big city with many job opportunities and a good employment environment.” Since her work wasn’t stable yet and she hadn’t officially broken into the industry, she hadn’t told her family about joining film crews.
“Mhm.” Fang Zhiyi responded, not pressing further.
“Is Luwei not good? It’s by the sea.” Fang Rulian bit her lower lip. “Don’t you like the ocean? You always wanted to go to a coastal city for university and work.”
“Before?” The bitter, herbal scent of the lilies drifted into her nose. Fang Zhiyi’s eyes darkened, and her throat moved. “How far ‘before’ is Sister talking about?”
“You said it when you were little, don’t deny it.” Fang Rulian bumped her arm against Fang Zhiyi’s. “In the future, if you attend Luwei University, we’ll be in the same city. We can look after each other.”
She had repented. She would not “look after” someone all the way into a bed like in her previous life.
Since the exams were over, it was time to rest, especially with the dorm dinner that night. Fang Rulian sat in the car and waved to Fang Zhiyi, her voice softening: “Go on back. I’ll be here tomorrow morning. Mom and Aunt Mu will be here too.”
The sunset washed over, soaking the girl’s white shirt in a warm gold. Even the lilies in her arms were wrapped in a layer of light like crushed gold.
Fang Rulian added one more instruction: “No drinking tonight.”
They were still at school; getting into trouble would be bad, not to mention Fang Zhiyi was a terrible drunk.
Fang Zhiyi: “Okay.”
The sunset slowly sank into the gaps between the city buildings. The last glow was swallowed by steel and concrete, and the surrounding clamor gradually quieted down.
That evening, Fang Rulian went back to her room after dinner. She opened her tablet to play a movie, a notebook spread across her knees. As the shadows from the screen flickered across her face, she looked down to quickly record her current feelings.
The movie was nearing its end when a phone call suddenly came in.
It was actually from Fang Zhiyi.
“Hello.” Fang Rulian felt her legs were a bit numb, so she straightened them and tapped them lightly. “Fang Zhiyi, what’s wrong?”
“Sis…” The first thing to hit her ears was a long, drawn-out tone, the end of it trembling like the tip of a feather brushing her earlobe, followed by a burst of damp breathing.
It was like cotton soaked soft by water vapor, lingering and spreading across the phone screen.
This kind of atmosphere was from a long time ago, but Fang Rulian was very familiar with it—the place where this kind of breath originated was usually quite specific: on a sofa, in a bed, or in a car. But definitely not over the phone.
“Fang Rulian…” The sound of breathing in the receiver suddenly grew closer. In a brief pause, the sound of a throat moving emerged, followed by a very soft swallow. “Fang… Ru… Lian.”
The name was broken into single characters, striking Fang Rulian’s eardrum one by one.
Fang Rulian’s face turned cold, and she was instantly annoyed:
“Fang Zhiyi, you’ve been drinking.”
…
Fang Zhiyi: The Gaokao is over, Sister. It’s finally time to deal with “us.”
Fang Rulian: Nothing is bigger than the Gaokao, as long as it doesn’t interfere… Wait, huh???