Love Finds Its Time - Chapter 4

In spring and summer, the sun rises very early. Shi Qingqiu already felt she was waking up extremely early for filming, but when she sat at the little table by the floor-to-ceiling windows, eating the breakfast delivered by room service with sunlight pouring in, she couldn’t help but feel that work seemed much lighter in autumn and winter. Especially in winter, when the sun rises later, it gave her the illusion that every summer day was harder to get through.

There was still some time before she had to head to set, so Shi Qingqiu sat there drinking milk, flipping through channels with the remote. She stopped when she came across a rerun of the reality show Inside and Outside the Drama. This reality show was currently one of the most popular in the country, largely because of its guest list—actors of considerable influence both at home and abroad. The producers also had a sharp eye: nearly every guest was either about to release a new project or caught up in some headline-grabbing news.

Shi Qingqiu put down the remote, crossed her legs, and leaned back in her chair in the most relaxed posture. One hand lifted her glass of milk, while the other rested on her knee, fingers tapping lightly.

The second episode of this season’s Inside and Outside the Drama was about to wrap up, which meant her turn would be coming soon. Pan Jiawen had already given her a heads-up some time ago.

Narrowing her eyes slightly, she reached for her phone. She lit up the screen, glanced at the date, hesitated a moment, then dialed Wen Qinghan’s number and lifted the phone to her ear.

The call was picked up quickly, as always. It was very quiet on the other end. Shi Qingqiu smiled faintly. “Lawyer Wen, good morning.”

A soft thump, like a file hitting a desk, came before Wen Qinghan’s voice. “Superstar Shi, good morning.”

Shi Qingqiu pressed her fingers against her forehead. Joking really didn’t suit Wen Qinghan. Said in a cheerful tone, such a greeting could have led smoothly into the next topic, but with her, it just killed the conversation dead. Sometimes Shi Qingqiu even wondered: how had someone so cold ever managed to say the words “let’s get married” that day? Looking back now, it still felt exactly like her style of speech.

Well, she was used to it. Without thinking much more, Shi Qingqiu took another sip of milk and teased, “Qinghan, do you know that when you talk, you don’t sound human at all? Makes me wonder if you even eat and drink like the rest of us.” She paused, then thought of a better phrasing. “In short, you’re like someone untouched by worldly smoke and fire.” Whenever they ate together, Wen Qinghan was always so refined and composed. Easy on the eyes, yes, but Shi Qingqiu often wondered if she was even capable of showing extreme emotion.

“You should be grateful then,” Wen Qinghan responded quickly. When Shi Qingqiu raised a brow, waiting for her to continue, she added calmly, “You’re married to someone untouched by worldly dust, practically a celestial. You’ve made a great bargain.”

Shi Qingqiu pursed her lips into a laugh, unable to hold back the curve at the corners. Her laughter carried clearly through the line, enough to make Wen Qinghan pause in her work and quietly lift the corners of her own lips.

“And who gave you the confidence to call yourself a celestial? When did you get so narcissistic?” Shi Qingqiu laughed, almost dropping her glass of milk. She quickly set it back down on the glass table.

Normally, conversations with Wen Qinghan were stiff and straightforward, but seeing her seriously joke for once was strangely amusing. If not for the flat tone, Shi Qingqiu might have thought her soul had been swapped out.

“Wasn’t it you who said so?” Wen Qinghan leaned back into her leather chair, her expression softening slightly.

“But I never said celestial. Untouched by worldly smoke and fire… maybe more like a ghost,” Shi Qingqiu teased with a smile. A little banter now and then wasn’t a bad thing.

“That’s fine too. Ghosts are rare in this world.” Wen Qinghan leaned back slowly, her composed features as unshaken as ever.

“Not wrong, I suppose.” Shi Qingqiu chuckled under her breath, then suddenly found she had nothing more to say.

Clearing her throat, Wen Qinghan asked softly, “Qingqiu, were you just drinking milk?” She must have heard the faint clink of glass against the table.

“Mhm, I drink milk every day,” Shi Qingqiu replied, running her fingers along the cup, her smile fading as her gaze drifted elsewhere through its reflection. 

She had grown up with the habit of drinking milk, ordinary enough at first. But when Qi Yue was around, she’d grown to genuinely like it. Sometimes they’d sneak into each other’s dorm rooms. When Qi Yue found out about her milk habit, she would make her a cup in the morning or before bed. Shi Qingqiu still remembered the first time. Qi Yue had smiled gently as she handed her the cup. She’d taken a small sip, leaving a ring of milk on her lips. Embarrassed, she had smiled—only for Qi Yue to lean in on her curtained bed, kiss her lips, and take the milk into her own mouth, teasing her deeply with that lingering sweetness.

“I know.”

Wen Qinghan’s voice pulled Shi Qingqiu back. A faint mockery flickered in her eyes. Why was she even remembering that now? Probably because she had never resigned herself to it. She had given Qi Yue everything. Her trust, her dreams, her heart in those tender first years, only to be left with nothing. Who could accept that?

“How do you know?” Shi Qingqiu lifted the glass and drank again. By now, she had mastered the art of drinking milk without leaving even a trace on her lips, always perfect in appearance.

Wen Qinghan’s thoughts shifted, but she only said softly, “I just know.”

Before Shi Qingqiu could press further, there came a knock at the door. “I’ll hang up, I have to head to set,” she said quickly into the phone, ending the call as she stood to open the door. Outside was Yang Xiao.

As soon as it opened, Yang Xiao reminded her, “Shi-jie, time to go. Perfect timing.”

Shi Qingqiu nodded. “Wait for me a minute, I’ll change my shoes.”

Work had consumed nearly all of her life these past years. She couldn’t count how many times she’d hung up calls abruptly, no matter with whom. But today, after speaking with Wen Qinghan, her mind lingered on the question: how did she know such a small detail about her daily habit? 

The thought followed her all the way to set. Fans were gathered at the entrance, waiting for actors. As she got out of the car, shouts of “Goddess! Goddess!” filled her ears. She put on her sunglasses, waved briefly, and walked away.

“Qingqiu’s here?”

“Hey, Qingqiu!”

“Shi-jie.”

Crew members greeted her warmly as soon as she entered. She returned each smile politely, heading straight for the dressing room. Yet once she passed, those same people exchanged strange looks, whispering among themselves.

Inside the main dressing room sat a tall, handsome man playing on his phone. Hearing movement, he looked up with a grin. “Our Goddess Shi has finally arrived, had me waiting forever.”

While Yang Xiao put her bag down, Shi Qingqiu replied as she walked, “A-Wang, don’t tease me. Call me properly.” She found a seat, pulled out her phone, and checked her unread WeChat messages and Moments.

Qin Wang chuckled. “Come on, Qingqiu, no outsiders here. Why so serious?”

Qin Wang was the male lead of her current film. They had worked together many times and had grown close. With him, she didn’t have to keep up the “goddess” facade, which was a relief.

He held a place in the industry on par with hers, with solid acting skills. Fans often paired them as a couple, but Qin Wang had told her clearly he already had someone he liked, so there was no need to let gossip affect their friendship.

After scrolling through Moments, Shi Qingqiu tossed her phone onto the vanity and sighed casually. “Hope we don’t NG too many times today. Best if we all nail it in one take. I’m craving home cooking.”

Without looking up from his game, Qin Wang replied more seriously, “Before that, you’d better check Weibo. It’s not exactly a big deal, might even help hype your new movie, but I think you should know.”

The vagueness in his words made Shi Qingqiu frown. She snatched up her phone, tapped into Weibo, and immediately spotted a trending post with her name.

【National Goddess Shi Qingqiu’s old photos exposed. Her current beauty is the result of plastic surgery. Faced with these past photos, do you still fall for such fake looks?】

She opened the attached images and let out a short laugh. “Ha. First time I’ve seen these supposed photos of me. My parents probably wouldn’t even recognize them.” The girl in the pictures wasn’t her at all. Similar perhaps, but not nearly as refined in features. For those unfamiliar, though, it was easy to be convinced.

Qin Wang shrugged, clearly used to such scandals. He closed his game, clasped his hands on the desk, and asked, “So, what’s your move? Let the truth speak for itself? Or post a clarification?”

In any industry, evidence was ironclad. Without equally strong proof, a mere Weibo post was just a pebble tossed into a lake that ripples briefly before fading away. So Shi Qingqiu said, “No. I don’t have any evidence right now to prove I’ve never had surgery. And the girl in those photos really does look a lot like me.”

Qin Wang propped his chin on one hand and nodded. “Then you’ll just have to endure it for now. See what your agent decides.”

Shi Qingqiu pressed her lips together but said nothing. Since Pan Jiawen hadn’t contacted her yet, she figured her agent might be planning to ride the scandal for publicity and wait until just before the movie’s release to clarify.

She didn’t dwell on it. After changing into costume and getting her makeup done, she prepared to leave with Qin Wang. Glancing at her phone one last time, she saw a new WeChat message. 

It was from Wen Qinghan—photos she had taken of their elementary, middle, and high school graduation pictures, along with a candid shot from their university years showing Shi Qingqiu quietly reading. At the bottom was a short line: For you to use.

Shi Qingqiu let out a soft laugh. A strange, indescribable feeling spread through her chest as she gripped the phone tightly, unsure what to do. She could almost see Wen Qinghan in her mind: cool and aloof, pacing around a desk with her tall frame, digging out old albums, then bending over to photograph each picture carefully.

A wave of willful emotion swelled in Shi Qingqiu’s chest. She saved the photos, opened Weibo, typed a single line, attached the pictures, and hit send. Tossing her phone back on the vanity, she stepped out with a light stride.

***

In her study, Wen Qinghan had just set aside her documents and reached for her water glass when her vibrating phone lit up with a special notification from Weibo.

【Shi Qingqiu: The things you and I know.】