Chapter 87: Betrayal

The blazing sun drew the life from every living thing on the ground, and in doing so seemed only to grow hotter still. Light poured down in sheets, nearly scorching the skin straight off a person’s body.

Everyone around was drenched in sweat, desperate to flee back to the dormitory and escape the sun at once.

Yet none of it seemed to concern Zhao Ke. She walked alone across the sports field, wandering in solitude while people passed to and fro around her, all of them blurred to her as if they were only figures in a lens. She held her arms tightly across her chest, her once upright back bent into a bow, hunched so badly it was almost frightening, like the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Perhaps she knew how grotesque she looked. Perhaps she did not. The eyes that had once shone like a river of stars had lost all their light, vacant and lost.

She did not know what she had done wrong. On the eve of graduation, her lover and her dearest friend had betrayed her together, and for the sake of an overseas scholarship she herself had never cared about, the two of them had run away together.

What a ridiculous thing.

If someone had told her before that she would be betrayed by her lover and her best friend, and that the two would flee to avoid her without even giving her an explanation—

Then Zhao Ke would have answered like this.

Yes, ridiculous, isn’t it? What age is this? Why would anyone still run away together? As for betrayal, that was even more absurd.

And yet the truth was that all of it was real. In the space of a single night, she had lost everything, as though heaven and earth had been left with only her.

Qin Yao had vanished with her lover. The teachers said they had gone abroad together, and Zhao Ke was the very last to know.

Even Qin Yao’s handsome boyfriend from campus had learned long before she did.

Zhao Ke lifted her head and looked blankly at the man before her. “Xi Kuan?”

Her voice was no longer clear and bright; it had grown hoarse and harsh.

But Xi Kuan’s brows drew together with heartache. “Zhao Ke, what are you doing? The ones who did wrong were them. The ones who stole your chance were them. The ones who disregarded propriety and ran away together were them. Why are they the ones happily setting off toward the future, while you have locked yourself in a cage like a trapped beast? How long has it been? Has it even been a day? And already you’ve become this way—your light gone, your pride gone, like a stray dog that has fallen from grace.”

Zhao Ke only looked at him, her eyes utterly still. “Xi Kuan, aren’t you heartbroken?”

Qin Yao was his girlfriend too, was she not?

“Why should I be heartbroken? The one who betrayed me was her. Why should I grieve for someone who betrayed me?”

Zhao Ke looked at Xi Kuan with distant eyes, then suddenly let out a low, strange laugh. “Xi Kuan, you really have no heart.”

“Zhao Ke!”

Those words seemed to flip some invisible switch, instantly shattering the calm on Xi Kuan’s face. Fury rose in him like a lion ready to fight a duel.

“Why is it this line again? When I confessed to you all those years ago, you said that. Four years have passed, and I still love you. Ling Feng, the one you said had the gentlest heart in the whole world, has already changed his mind, and you still say this? Am I really less sincere than Ling Feng?”

Zhao Ke covered her face, her voice squeezed out from between her fingers. “Yes. Even if he betrayed me, he is still more sincere than you.”

If he had no heart, why would it hurt so much?

“Be with me,” Xi Kuan said. “Ling Feng doesn’t want you anymore, and Qin Yao doesn’t want me anymore. Two losers making a team—wouldn’t we live more happily, more freely than those two winners? Wouldn’t that be the best revenge against them?”

Zhao Ke’s laughter ceased. She stared straight at Xi Kuan, as if bewitched by his words. But soon her eyes cleared again. “When did I ever say I wanted revenge?”

“Xi Kuan, looking at you, I suddenly understand why Qin Yao chose to betray me.” Zhao Ke’s gaze turned sardonic.

At Xi Kuan, and at herself.

Zhao Ke passed him by and walked straight toward the school gate.

Xi Kuan was unwilling to let it end there. Seeing her leave without looking back, he shouted, “Why? Why do all of you choose Ling Feng and not me?”

Zhao Ke stopped, closed her eyes tightly, and after a moment looked up. “Because you have no heart...”

Qin Yao was so good to you, loved you so much, and yet you still did not waver. You even kept saying you loved me.

As for me being betrayed by both of them together, perhaps it was also because I have no heart.

Otherwise, how could I have watched Xi Kuan dally between two hearts and never once reminded Qin Yao?

Zhao Ke blinked hard, then left the school where she had lived for four years without once looking back.

-

“This is far too tragic,” Zhao Meng said, pouting, tears still glistening at the corners of her eyes, though her finger was viciously jabbing at Qin Yao’s name in the script.

But not long after, she realized she had been affected by Song Wan’s performance just now, and her expression could not help but turn fierce.

Again. It was just like when they had been filming Cloud Immortal. Every time Song Wan performed a scene of intense conflict like this, everyone’s attention was instantly seized by every word and gesture, impossible to break free from.

She was jealous, and yet because of that she understood all the more clearly that Song Wan’s acting was something she could never hope to match.

She was only a supporting role, yet time and again she had been cursed out by her own maternal uncle for not performing well enough. Song Wan, however, could portray the lead with effortless mastery, even winning Zhao Qing’s praise again and again.

Zhao Meng drew a deep breath. She had already suffered once; she did not dare make trouble in her uncle’s production crew.

-

“So cruel! To think they betrayed the friend who helped them so much!”

Many people on set were saying this. Through the force of empathy, each of their eyes on Song Wan had become so “tender” that she felt as though she had somehow acquired a whole host of aunts and old busybody relatives, unsettlingly cloying.

The actors had already received the script some time ago, but before this no one had thought Zhao Ke all that pitiable—

After all, the script made it very clear that the matter was understandable, and that even what Zhao Ke saw was not the real truth.

Yet just now, after Song Wan’s performance, everyone’s maternal instincts had exploded at once. They all felt Zhao Ke was unbearably pitiful, and one after another they thrust snacks and the like into Song Wan’s arms, as though doing so would somehow make Zhao Ke less sad and make themselves feel better too.

Song Wan held a pile of things and explained, both amused and helpless, “Don’t do this. I’m Song Wan, not Zhao Ke...”

“It’s the same, it’s the same. You are Zhao Ke and Zhao Ke is you. Being nice to you is the same as being nice to Zhao Ke. Don’t throw these things away.”

With that, the female staff member turned and hurried off, afraid Song Wan would try to return everything to her.

Song Wan: “...”

In the end, she could only carry the mountain of gifts over to Zhao Qing. After a burst of crackling and rustling, everything in her arms was placed before the director.

“Director, these are all offerings from the crew. Please don’t stand on ceremony with them—take them all home and eat them.”

Zhao Qing gave Song Wan a flat look. “I’m not blind. Do you really think I didn’t see who those people were giving things to just now?”

Even so, he grabbed a packet of biscuits, tore it open, and began crunching away.

There was nothing he cared for, after all, except a few snacks.

Sun Xia was sitting nearby, waiting for the next scene to be shot. Seeing this, she burst out laughing. “Director Zhao, aren’t you afraid your fans will find out how much you say one thing and do another?”

“Let them find out. I don’t make my living off fans anyway,” Zhao Qing said dismissively, waving a hand.

“It’s not that you don’t make your living off fans—it’s that even if you wanted to, you don’t have the conditions to, do you?” Song Wan joined in teasing him. “If you looked as radiant and beautiful as I do, or had the outstanding bearing of Sister Sun Xia, even if you didn’t live off fans, they’d still beg to feed you.”

You have to know, when Zhao Qing was young, he had once dreamed of becoming a star. He had taken the entrance exams for every arts school, only to be rejected by all of them. And every school gave him the same reason—

No spark in his acting. No distinctive features in his looks. Nothing remarkable about his bearing.

Hit in a sore spot, Zhao Qing bristled. “Keep talking, keep talking. See if I don’t make you all do retakes until you drop dead.”

Song Wan raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, Director Zhao, but my scenes for today are already finished.”

Zhao Qing flew into a rage and turned to glare at Sun Xia. “And you?”

Sun Xia: “...The next scene is mine.”

Zhao Qing was delighted at once. “Hahaha, just you wait. Even if you get it right, I’ll still make you do a retake!”

“Director, wasting film like that will get you scolded by the producer!” Sun Xia cried out in alarm.

Zhao Qing glared. “On my set, I’m the boss. Who dares tell me what to do?”

“Director Zhao?”

The producer, who was usually impossible to track down, suddenly appeared. His tone was eerie and drawn out, ghostlike. Zhao Qing nearly toppled from his chair.

“Producer Guan, do you believe I could kick you out of the crew?” Zhao Qing roared in exasperation, all bluster and little substance.

Producer Guan was silent for a moment. “If Director Zhao insists.”

Since Guan had already yielded, Zhao Qing’s face lit up with delight—only to be slapped in the face moments later.

“But before you kick me out, Director Zhao, you must save money for all the investors. Otherwise, the current funding for this film simply won’t be enough.”

They could not possibly be nearing the end of filming, only to stop because the money ran out or skip post-production, could they?

Zhao Qing got to his feet and walked up to Producer Guan. The two of them stared at each other. “Anyway, President Jin has money. Just go ask him for more later. A few million is nothing to him—just a drop in the bucket.”

Not a drop in the bucket at all...

Song Wan silently complained in her heart. If Jin Youqian knew what you were thinking, he would definitely tell you: no money, no life—go die on your own.

Considering that she was, at the very least, Jin Youqian’s wife now, and that they had also shared marital intimacy last night, she hurriedly stepped in to mediate. “Um, if you really must use retakes to punish Sister Sun Xia for speaking out of turn, there’s no need to turn on the camera every time, is there? Just make a show of it and scare her a little. Anyway, Sister Sun Xia has no idea which take is actually being filmed...”

Sun Xia whipped around in disbelief. “Song Wan, I trusted the wrong person! It was clearly you who angered the director, so why am I the one being made to put out the fire in the end? You’re too devious!”

Song Wan blinked. “When did I ever anger the director? I haven’t said a single word, have I?”

Sun Xia: “...Do you have any shame?”

Zhao Qing laughed so hard he nearly doubled over. As far as he was concerned, so long as he had a joke to enjoy, snacks to eat, and someone to put in their place, that was enough.