Award Ceremony

On the day of the awards gala, Qin Qingyan saw Lin Xiao.

Just as Bai Ruo had said, she really did give off a sense of maturity far beyond her age. Lin Xiao spotted her too and gave her a slight nod in greeting.

Lin Xiao. The name was so unlike the person.

“Qin Qingyan.” Someone called her from behind.

Yu Qingyan walked over to her. “You really are impressive, but I’ll catch up to you someday. I don’t like you very much, but for the sake of having a goal to chase in the future, I still hope you win an award.”

“Thank you.” Yu Qingyan seemed to have changed quite a bit; at the very least, there had been no more gossip about her. She seemed to have thrown herself into her career completely.

“I still have to remind you of something. Helping Shen Qing was the wrong choice, and besides, she didn’t need your help anyway. But getting yourself into trouble does sound like you.” After saying that, Yu Qingyan turned and left.

Qin Qingyan thought of what Yu Shuran had said about Yuguang Media. It seemed she had offended someone important.

After the guests were seated, the host glanced at the time and began on schedule.

The opening remarks were familiar as always; the livestream chat was flooding with the names of nominated actors, everyone’s name appearing in a blur.

Qin Qingyan looked around and quickly spotted Shen Qing, a slender figure from behind. She also saw Lin Xiao looking at her; no matter what the host said, Lin Xiao’s gaze remained fixed on Shen Qing.

Qin Qingyan smiled in understanding.

If someone told her those two had nothing going on, she wouldn’t believe it.

As usual, clips from the nominated works were played on the screen one by one. Only then did Lin Xiao finally look back up toward the stage.

“...Next, my cohost, Xu Li, will reveal the winner of this year’s Golden Ro Award for Best Actress.”

The female host leaned toward the microphone, looked at the script in her hand, and let out a pleased smile. “The winner of this year’s Golden Ro Award for Best Actress is...”

The livestream comments went wild. The guests below all kept calm on the surface, but could not help feeling tense inside. When the camera swept over them, Qin Qingyan, one of the five nominees, smiled and nodded at it. Shen Qing seemed not to notice the camera at all, or perhaps simply had no mind to care; her eyes were lowered, showing not the slightest ripple.

The other three also smiled politely in turn, though the tension and anticipation beneath those smiles were obvious.

“...It is Shen Qing!” the host announced with unmistakable pride.

Applause rose instantly from below. Shen Qing stood, bowed toward the back, and walked onto the podium.

The host presented her with a bouquet of flowers and gave her a gentle hug, saying something to her. Shen Qing smiled faintly; from the shape of her lips, it seemed she was thanking her.

She stood before the microphone in a pure white gauze dress, holding a bouquet of flowers in full color. Looking out at the gathered peers below, Shen Qing spoke softly. “I’ve imagined this day countless times. Now that it’s finally come true, I’m very happy. That means I can do what I want to do. Thank you all.”

Her tone held no trace of joy, and even her smile was faint.

[Finally, she got her day. My darling is thirty-three this year; it’s about time she got an award.]

[I’m a Little Qing fan, but I have to admit Shen Qing really deserves it. Anyway, aside from my fave, the only one I acknowledge is Shen Qing.]

[Actors really do have to speak with their work. None of those other tricks matter. Some people have all kinds of so-called major awards, but their value isn’t even enough to compare with a crack in the Golden Ro Award.]

Qin Qingyan looked at Shen Qing. The lights onstage were dazzling, and all eyes were on her alone, yet what Qin Qingyan saw was the loneliness all over Shen Qing’s body; it was completely out of step with the lively atmosphere of the venue.

After the ceremony ended, Su Yan hurried forward with a padded coat. Qin Qingyan put it on while watching Shen Qing walk toward Lin Xiao. The distance wasn’t far, and they made no effort to keep their voices down, so Qin Qingyan could hear everything clearly with only a little focus.

“It wasn’t the first time, so thank you. If there’s a chance, I’d really like to work with you.” Shen Qing smiled.

They didn’t seem to know each other all that well? Qin Qingyan found it strange.

Lin Xiao looked a little at a loss. After a long pause, she said, “You deserve it.”

“I have a small gift here. I guessed you’d come today, so I prepared it especially for you.”

Lin Xiao was startled. “Th-thank you.”

It was a black crystal bracelet; very beautiful.

As Qin Qingyan was preparing to leave, Shen Qing stopped her too. “Thank you for what happened on Weibo. Really.”

“And you and The Mask both deserve an award.”

Shen Qing smiled. “You do too. I’m really looking forward to seeing what kind of work you’ll bring out to compete for the Golden Ro Award. But whatever happens, that person should be you.”

“Thank you.”

After Shen Qing left, Su Yan found it odd: “Why do I feel like this newly crowned Best Actress feels both close and distant at the same time?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean she gives people the feeling that she’s easy to get close to, but also somehow really far away.” Su Yan said.

“Mm. Maybe because we’re still not that familiar with her.”

Su Yan nodded, but it still didn’t feel quite right. She’d felt this sort of drifting sensation before; she just couldn’t remember when for the moment.

That unsettled feeling kept Su Yan from calming down. When she got back to Jingsheng, she was still distracted, not even bothering to respond to Bai Ruo’s teasing.

Then, that night, Su Yan had a dream.

In the dream, everything around her was pitch black. She was in a ruined wooden hut, and when she saw a patch of light, she ran toward it. Suddenly, a miserable cry rang out behind her, getting closer and closer. She didn’t dare turn around and desperately ran for the outside.

Just as she was about to step through the doorway, a hand landed on her shoulder. Enduring the overwhelming terror, she turned back at last and finally saw the face clearly.

It was Cen Qingqing.

Su Yan jolted awake, gasping for breath. She glanced at the time; it was already past nine the next morning.

Only then did she understand what that feeling had been.

When she went into the living room, she found everyone sitting on the sofa. The atmosphere was terribly wrong.

“You... what’s wrong?” Su Yan asked.

Bai Ruo looked at her. “Shen Qing is dead.”

Su Yan froze. Of course. Of course that was it. That feeling—she had felt it with Cen Qingqing too.

“She died in the early hours of the morning, by taking pills.” Qin Qingyan said. “The police confirmed it, and there was also a suicide note left at the scene.”

Su Yan’s hand trembled as she opened Weibo. She didn’t know why she was reacting so strongly; perhaps it was because she had once felt it so vividly herself.

[The Mask was my wish. Not long after filming wrapped, I realized my life was vaguely reaching its end. I forced myself to keep going for so long because I wanted to wait for the Golden Ro Award. It deserved recognition. Thank you all for helping me fulfill my wish. Please, don’t feel any guilt at all. Even if I hadn’t won, I had already planned to leave. The next three years are just too long. As for the reason, please forgive me. I may be an excellent actress (allow me this bit of self-praise), but I am by no means a qualified Shen Qing. To this day, I still live inside The Mask.]

Her Weibo page turned into black and white, while countless fans mourned beneath her post.

[Shen Qing lived out her role, and died the same way, by taking pills.]

[Her speech at the awards ceremony felt odd from the start. So she had already made preparations.]

[That’s the rule in the entertainment industry, isn’t it? Actors always end up resembling the roles that made them famous.]

[May she rest in peace. We’ll never forget her.]

Many celebrities in the entertainment industry posted messages of grief, while a few netizens dug out the fact that among the stars who hadn’t posted anything, Qin Qingyan and Lin Xiao were included—yet strangely, no one attacked them.

Because before the Golden Ro Award, the only people who had supported Shen Qing were them.

Not long after, the funeral was broadcast live on television, but Lin Xiao was nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t until half a month later that someone spotted Lin Xiao bringing flowers to Shen Qing’s grave. She said nothing, stayed there for a long time, and only then left.

Everything slowly returned to normal, and Shen Qing’s matter gradually faded from people’s sight; only the ginger lilies before her grave remained perpetually fresh.

Perhaps Shen Qing’s death had served as a reminder to Yan Yue. When choosing scripts, she told Su Yan to turn down as many overly depressive and heavy projects as possible. Su Yan felt the same way too.

But Qin Qingyan, for her part, wanted a challenge. Her acting had become increasingly mature, and many directors were sending her olive branches.

Among the scripts, every kind of genre was there.

“Comedies are great. That’s fantastic; there’s laughter and tears, and it’ll definitely attract audiences,” Su Yan said.

The coffee table was covered with the scripts they’d recently received.

Bai Ruo also nodded. “Otherwise, this xianxia one is pretty good too. The worldbuilding is grand, and the costumes are beautiful, right?”

“This one works too. A doctor—I’m a doctor too. If you have any questions, you can ask me for advice; there won’t be any logic holes.” Li Xian said.

Yan Yue kept quietly watching Qin Qingyan without saying a word. She knew that no matter what, Qin Qingyan would ultimately choose the kind of project she wanted to film. She could force her to stop, but then what would Qin Qingyan be, if not a bird in a cage?

At night, the two of them lay in bed and talked about the matter.

“I want to try it. Those are just guesses, aren’t they? I’m good at getting out of character. Director Nie has been writing that script for years and never wanted to take it out. Now that he’s asked me, it’s a great chance to take on a challenge. Even if I do badly, at worst I just go back to square one overnight. But I believe I can do it well.” Qin Qingyan said, holding Yan Yue.

Yan Yue still didn’t speak. With her eyes closed, she looked as if she were asleep.

“Yan Yue? A-Yue? Yueyue?” Qin Qingyan called her in every way she could think of, leaning close to her ear. “Can’t you let me, please, sister?”

Yan Yue sighed, reached out, and pushed her head away. Then she lifted her eyes to look at her. “If you want to take it, fine. But you have to wait until my leg recovers.”

At the very least, then, if Qin Qingyan’s state went wrong, she could be by her side at any time.

Qin Qingyan thought about it, then smiled and nodded. It was enough that she had agreed. As long as she agreed, that was fine.

At the end of December, Li Xian’s belly had grown larger and her pregnancy symptoms had become much more obvious. She was often nauseous and had little appetite. The half-reconciled state with Bai Ruo was slowly broken too, and Bai Ruo automatically took on the role of a partner. She handled everything, down to the smallest detail, and did it all very well.

Li Xian’s father and mother, especially Li Xian’s father, had basically set aside the older generation’s prejudices and come to accept Bai Ruo.

And Yan Yue’s legs were actually showing signs of recovery.

“Right, slowly. Try curling your toes a little, then move them again. It’s okay; no rush.” The doctor sat by the bed and guided her.

Qin Qingyan waited nearby, watching the doctor nervously.

The doctor stood up. “The toes on the right foot can move slightly now; recovery should be quick. The left foot will still need some time, but in less than three months, walking on her own should basically be no problem.”

On the way back in the car, Qin Qingyan was in high spirits the whole time. Yan Yue was happy too, just not as visibly as Qin Qingyan.

“Three months will pass in the blink of an eye. That’s wonderful. It feels so good to have something to look forward to. When I think about it, it’s actually only been half a year. We’re really lucky. By then, Li Xian should have given birth too, and we’ll even get to hold their little baby.”

Yan Yue listened, and the corners of her mouth lifted too.

Yes. Everything was moving in a good direction.