Xia Wei was stunned.
This was Song Qiao saying she wanted to go to her house while completely sober.
Quietly observing Song Qiao’s expression, it was still that faint, indifferent look. Not daring to ask Song Qiao anything else, she could only set the navigation and drive toward her own home.
After the car had been driving for quite a while, Xia Wei glanced out of the corner of her eye and saw Song Qiao with her hands resting on her knees. Her fingers had stopped shaking, but her whole body was leaning against the seat back, as if all her strength had been drained away by something.
“That person…” Xia Wei started to speak, then felt she shouldn’t ask.
“Chen Yu’s producer,” Song Qiao said, her voice very soft. “He doesn’t want to do this interview anymore. I went to see him one last time to confirm it.”
Xia Wei’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly.
“What did he say?”
“He said his schedule is fully booked,” Song Qiao’s tone remained very flat. “Fully booked means he doesn’t want to do it, and not wanting to do it means he feels the Starlight Project isn’t qualified enough.”
Xia Wei didn’t speak.
“He might be right,” Song Qiao suddenly said.
Xia Wei’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, and so did her throat. She didn’t know how to comfort Song Qiao.
Song Qiao looked out the car window as the streetlights swept across her face, the light and shadow constantly flickering, turning bright and dim.
Xia Wei turned her head to glance at Song Qiao. Her profile was very calm, but that calmness was different from the past. In the past, it was armor; now, it was the nothingness left behind after shedding the armor.
“Or maybe he’s wrong,” Song Qiao said again. “But I can’t prove it right now.”
Xia Wei drove the car to the entrance of her residential compound, intending to drive straight into the underground garage.
“Stop here,” Song Qiao’s voice sounded, lacking any real force.
“Huh?” Xia Wei was confused, but obediently stopped the car as told.
“Get out. You’ve worked hard today, get a good rest this weekend,” Song Qiao leaned against the headrest and looked at Xia Wei.
Xia Wei’s lips moved. She heard herself asking a question she already knew the answer to: “Have you eaten?”
Song Qiao was momentarily stunned.
That expression lasted for only an instant. The absolute emptiness on her face shattered, revealing a tiny fragment of something underneath, but she quickly suppressed it back down.
“At this hour, my mom has already cooked. Do you want to come upstairs and have a meal before heading back?” Xia Wei looked into Song Qiao’s eyes and continued.
“Not hungry.”
“Let’s go, we’re already here anyway.” Xia Wei didn’t give Song Qiao a chance to refuse. She stepped on the accelerator and drove the car into the compound’s underground garage.
Xia Wei had only one thought in her mind—she couldn’t let Song Qiao go back like this alone.
Right now, in her eyes, Song Qiao was like a little cat abandoned by someone else, urgently needing a cozy nest, a good meal, and a sound sleep.
She couldn’t provide Song Qiao with a cozy nest, but she could let Song Qiao have a hot meal at her place.
Wasn’t there a saying that the warmth of human fireworks is the most comforting thing of all?
After parking the car, Song Qiao didn’t get out immediately. Sitting in the passenger seat, she looked outside at the familiar scene, which reminded her of how Xia Wei had brought her upstairs last night.
“Director Song, time to get out.” Xia Wei walked over to the passenger side door and gently knocked on the window.
Song Qiao got out of the car, and then wordlessly got back in. Xia Wei watched as the car’s taillights disappeared right before her eyes.
Xia Wei angrily slapped her own thigh; if she ever softened her heart again, she was a dog.
Going upstairs.
Zhou Ci was still out dancing square dance, leaving meals for her on the dining table. Touching the edge of the plate, it was still warm.
Her phone rang; it was Fang Tian.
“How was it? Did the female devil torture you today?” Fang Tian’s voice carried laughter.
Xia Wei’s hand shoveling rice paused for three seconds.
“Fang Tian,” she said, “I think I’ve been abused.”
“Ah? Did she scold you? Hit you? Cut your salary?”
“None of that.” Xia Wei rolled over on the bed and buried her face in the pillow. “She didn’t eat breakfast today, didn’t eat lunch, didn’t even call me when she went out to talk business in the afternoon, and then ended up making me go find her in the garage, waited at the hotel entrance for two hours only to get a cold shoulder, and when I told her to come back and eat with me, she said ‘not hungry’.”
The other end of the line was quiet for two seconds.
“So?”
“So I feel exhausted,” Xia Wei said. “Not physically tired, but… seeing her like this makes me feel tired too. Why does she insist on booking that person? If she can’t get him, forget it, can’t she change to someone else? Why go wait at a hotel entrance for over an hour, get rejected to her face, and then come back and say ‘he might be right’? What is she even doing this for?”
Fang Tian didn’t speak.
“And she still won’t eat!” Xia Wei grew more indignant as she spoke. “She only drank a cup of coffee in the morning, didn’t eat anything at noon, and said ‘not hungry’ at night. Is she made of iron? Does she not want her stomach anymore? I brought a cup of warm water in for her, and while she did drink it, can water replace a meal?”
“You even fetched water for her?” Fang Tian’s tone sounded a bit strange.
“What?”
“Nothing.” A hint of a smile crept into Fang Tian’s voice. “Go on.”
“Go on what? I just feel like this job is impossible to do anymore. Running around everywhere following her every day, watching her torment herself, I end up getting tormented too. Waiting at the hotel entrance for over an hour today, my stomach was growling while she wouldn’t leave, and in the end she got a cold shoulder and her hands were shaking when she came back…”
Xia Wei paused.
“Her hands were shaking?” Fang Tian asked.
“Yeah, that tiny kind of shaking. She thought I didn’t see it.”
The other end of the phone was quiet for a long time.
“Xia Wei,” Fang Tian’s voice suddenly turned serious. “She’s not abusing you, she’s just abusing herself. And as for you—are you feeling heartbroken for her, or just complaining?”
Xia Wei was stunned.
“I’m complaining,” she said, though her voice was a bit smaller than she intended.
“Are you sure?”
“Sure.”
“Then why did you fetch her water? And why do you care whether she ate or not?”
“That’s because—” Xia Wei opened her mouth, unable to find a suitable word.
“Because what?”
“Because I’m her assistant,” Xia Wei said. “Isn’t it completely normal for an assistant to care about their leader’s health?”
Fang Tian let out a scoff on the other end of the phone—a laugh that clearly said, “I don’t believe you, but I won’t call you out.”
“Fine, normal,” Fang Tian said. “Then are you still going to work next week?”
“Going,” Xia Wei said. “For the figure.”
“For the figure.” Fang Tian repeated it, laughing even louder. “Alright, then get to sleep early. Want to hang out tomorrow afternoon?”
“Sure.” Xia Wei felt she needed to go out and soak up some sunlight to clear away the gloomy energy.
After hanging up the phone, Xia Wei flipped her phone face down on the table and stared at the dishes in front of her—this was enough food for three people, yet she insisted on going back with an empty stomach.
Sighing, she picked up a piece of meat and shoved it into her mouth, chewing fiercely. Then, remembering Song Qiao’s trembling hands, the speed of her chewing gradually slowed down.
After finishing dinner, cleaning up, and returning to her bedroom,
“For the figure,” she muttered into her quilt.
But even she felt a complete lack of conviction saying those words out loud.
Saturday’s sunshine was wonderful.
Xia Wei and Fang Tian agreed to meet at the park. Xia Wei arrived first; back when she was rushing to finish assignments and didn’t dare stay at home, she would run to this park, so it felt just like her own backyard.
Fang Tian sent a message saying she would be a little longer.
Xia Wei found a shady spot to sit and wait. Her gaze drifted toward some elderly people practicing nearby, and she covered her mouth to yawn, natural tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.
She thought she saw Song Qiao’s figure, but when she wiped away the tears to take a closer look, that back had already disappeared.
“Could it be that work is making me hallucinate?” Xia Wei patted her cheeks to wake herself up.
Song Qiao was sitting in a tea house private room; this spot happened to afford a clear view of all of Xia Wei’s movements, her eyes deep and thoughtful.
“Little Song, it’s not that I won’t help, but Yanyuan hasn’t been active in public for a very long time,” the white-haired elderly woman said, though her eyes were piercingly bright.
“Aunt Meng, is Teacher Cheng coming here next week?” Song Qiao offered a timely, practiced smile.
Meng Yuangewu looked at Song Qiao, her wrinkled hand tightening around her teacup, a sharp glint in her eyes: “Where did you hear that from?”
“Aunt Meng, I’d like to go talk to Teacher Cheng myself,” Song Qiao evaded the question, stating her request.
Meng Yuangewu turned her head and sighed: “Little Song, aren’t you making things difficult for this old lady? When she comes to visit me, I’d just be bringing trouble upon her.”
“Aunt Meng, I promise I won’t make things difficult for you. I just need an address,” Song Qiao’s eyes were full of absolute determination.
Silence fell over the private room; no one spoke further. Song Qiao waited, and she was also gambling.
Meng Yuangewu put down her teacup, looking at Song Qiao with a serious expression: “Little Song, I know your character. If you promise not to pester Yanyuan, I can give you the address.”
“I promise,” Song Qiao nodded, her hand resting on her lap quietly relaxing.
Song Qiao stood up to see Meng Yuangewu out, walked over to the window, and her tense shoulders slowly relaxed, her gaze instinctively searching the crowd for a familiar figure.
The tree where Xia Wei had been sitting just moments ago now had someone else sitting under it.
Xia Wei was eating a popsicle brought by Fang Tian, standing in the open space and basking in the sun.
“Only this kind of popsicle mixed with cheap artificial food coloring tastes like nostalgia,” Xia Wei held the popsicle up lazily and said.
Fang Tian couldn’t handle the sun, so she found a patch of shady grass to sit down on, ignoring Xia Wei.
Song Qiao withdrew her gaze, turned around, and left through the back door of the tea room.
Sunshine, Xia Wei—this was what Xia Wei should look like, not the despondent, heavy-hearted look she wore in the elevator when they first met.
Monday.
Carrying her coffee as usual, Xia Wei went to queue up for the elevator, looking up to see Xie Xiaoqing, who always clocked in right at the deadline, standing right in front of her.
On Monday morning, before official work hours had even begun, the publicity department’s office area was already packed with people.
No one was late, let alone strolling around with coffee. Everyone sat at their workstations with absolute tacit understanding—computers turned on, notebooks unfolded, pen caps uncapped, as if waiting for a storm they had long known was coming.
When Xia Wei arrived, this was the exact scene that greeted her. Song Qiao’s office door was also open.
She put away her bag, held her coffee, knocked and entered, setting the coffee down with the rim facing inward.
“Director Song, your coffee.”
“Mhm, thank you,” Song Qiao replied without even lifting her head.
Xia Wei returned to her workstation, opened her computer, and pulled out her own notebook. Xie Xiaoqing sat next to her, unusually skipping breakfast, the lid of her soy milk cup still sealed tight.