Chapter 4

November 28, 2025 | Author: Song Buliuchun At fifteen, Jiang Xiaoyu was the adolescent goddess of Zhang Luo's secret crush. At eighteen, she was the makeup-free goddess who went viral across the internet off a single photo from her art school entrance exams. At twenty-two, she was the rising entertainment goddess who exploded into stardom with Stars of Yesterday. At twenty-five, she became a homewrecker overnight, targeted by everyone online, condemned by the entire internet for allegedly seducing directors and sleeping her way to the top. At twenty-six, crushed by depression, Jiang Xiaoyu leaped to her death from a building. At twenty-six, it took Zhang Luo a long time to accept her departure. Then, it took another four years to finally bury her in a grave deep within his heart. Inside that grave— A sixteen-year-old Jiang Xiaoyu told him her dream was to become an actress. A twenty-four-year-old Jiang Xiaoyu, learning his father needed massive medical funds for stomach cancer, tracked down his friend to get his account number and wired him a huge sum of money. A twenty-five-year-old Jiang Xiaoyu wept until her eyes were red and swollen, insisting over the phone that she had done none of those things—that it was all a setup. A twenty-six-year-old Jiang Xiaoyu, just a week before her suicide, met him for late-night snacks. She showed no signs of distress, brushing off his worries by saying it was all in the past and that she didn't care anymore. That night, she said to Zhang Luo: "You're a coward." Zhang Luo had been left completely baffled. Drunk out of her mind, Jiang Xiaoyu pointed at him and cried out, "Just because I rejected you once when I was sixteen, why were you too scared to ever confess to me again?!" Zhang Luo, looking lost, had replied, "You were going to be an actress. I was just an ordinary guy—I couldn't help you." "Who wanted your help?!" Jiang Xiaoyu wept. "Do you even get it at all?" Zhang Luo really didn't get it. The next morning, Jiang Xiaoyu called in a panic, asking if she had babbled nonsense while drunk the night before. Zhang Luo played dumb, saying he was too out of it to remember anything. Jiang Xiaoyu let out a massive sigh of relief. "Good. Then work hard! Stop calling yourself a useless salted fish. You're talented, you're amazing, and you're definitely going to succeed!" Zhang Luo would forever remember the vibrant, energetic voice cheering him on through the phone. Which was why he could never understand. How could someone so lively and full of energy jump off a building just like that? He never figured it out later, either. He would never be able to figure it out now. "What are you doing? Why are you suddenly crying?" Liang Fengying looked at Zhang Luo in shock. "Son, don't scare me like this." Zhang Luo raised a hand and wiped away his tears, executing a practiced piece of acting: "Huh? I'm crying? Must've gotten something in my eye." Liang Fengying: "..." Zhang Luo flashed a bright smile. "Mom, what would you think if I became a celebrity down the road?" "Sure! You inherited my good looks, and you're a handsome young man now—way better looking than those male stars on TV," his mother said. "Uh, as narcissistically confident as I am, even I wouldn't say something that far-fetched," Zhang Luo admitted. His mom chimed in: "True. After all, you only inherited half of my genes. The other half was ruined by your father." "..." Zhang Luo let out a sigh. "Mom, what if I told you I'm actually serious?" "Serious about what?" "Wanting to be a star." "Huh?" Liang Fengying slapped her hand onto—no, wait, she slapped it right onto Zhang Luo's forehead. "Do you have a fever? What kind of crazy talk is this all of a sudden? Don't you usually ignore celebrities and artists? You used to say they were shallow, brainless hacks who only relied on their faces to make a living." "I—" Zhang Luo thought to himself: Was I really that principled when I was little? The thirty-year-old version of him only thought about how absurdly rich celebrities were. Living off good looks? A brainless hack? As long as he could make that kind of money, people could call him whatever they wanted. "Here's the deal," Zhang Luo said. "I took a nap this afternoon." "I knew you weren't reading your books!" Liang Fengying let out a loud roar. "What did I tell you before I left the house? Read! Your! Books!" With every word shouted, Liang Fengying landed a smack squarely on Zhang Luo's back. Zhang Luo was hit so hard he almost spit blood. Once the beating was over, the murderous aura in Liang Fengying's eyes receded. "..." Zhang Luo turned around, pointing at his still-damp eyes. "Now I know why I was crying earlier. I was sensing the punishment I was about to endure." Liang Fengying gave him a fake-smiling side-eye. "No, really, Mom, I'm telling you the truth. I had a really, really long dream. I dreamed I became a genius with an endless stream of great stories and great songs in my head. If I became a star, I'd be a creative artist—a true prodigy." Liang Fengying snapped back: "You were dreaming! So you know you were just dreaming?!" A single phrase snapped him back to reality. Zhang Luo froze. Right... he was just dreaming. What was he doing? What kind of nonsense was he spouting? Becoming a celebrity in the future? What an idiot. This was all just a dream. When the dream ended, he’d go right back to being a useless thirty-year-old salted fish. What right did he have to daydream inside a dream? He let out a self-deprecating laugh. "Auntie, you're here! Zhang Luo!" A crisp, ringing call from Jiang Xiaoyu snapped him right out of his daze. Outside the restaurant, Jiang Xiaoyu was carrying a stack of plastic stools, preparing to haul them inside. She stood bathed in the evening sun, smiling at them. The fifteen-year-old Jiang Xiaoyu smiled with pure, youthful sweetness, striking a direct hit straight into his heart. God, please let this dream last just a little bit longer. Please. Zhang Luo rubbed his eyes. Whack! Another slap from Liang Fengying landed squarely on his back. "What are you standing there frozen for? Go help Xiaoyu carry those stools!" Jolted awake from his trance, Zhang Luo rushed forward. Jiang Xiaoyu had already used her hips to lightly nudge open the shop door. "No need! I can handle it myself. Auntie, Zhang Luo, come on in!" Jiang Xiaoyu Restaurant was one of the most popular eateries in the neighborhood. It catered specifically to the local residents, so whether it came to quality ingredients or prices, its main draw was being affordable and down-to-earth. Otherwise, it couldn't have survived in this residential district for so long. "Zhang Luo, look at Xiaoyu. She's the same age as you and goes to the same school! Same school! She spends her weekends helping out her family, and look at you! I don't even expect you to help me, I just want you to read a bit more. But look at what you do!" The moment Liang Fengying sat down, she started nagging Zhang Luo. Zhang Luo said, "Mom, I actually can help you with things." "What could you possibly help me with?" Liang Fengying looked at him with pure disdain. "I can help you play mahjong. Seriously, I can help you draw that winning tile after a kong." Silence settled over the table for two seconds. Immediately after, Liang Fengying raised her hand and started whacking Zhang Luo on the back—she avoided hitting the back of his head because Ms. Liang Fengying firmly believed that hitting the head could make a person dumb. "I'll give you a winning tile! I'll whack you until you bloom like a flower!" Zhang Luo glanced over and caught Jiang Xiaoyu looking right at them. The sheer wave of embarrassment in that instant! He scrambled to make his escape. "Mom, stop, stop, stop! I need to use the bathroom!" And with that, he bolted.