Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I didn’t actually want Zhou Jibai to see me.

At this moment, the scene of our breakup suddenly flashed back into my mind.

“Zhou Jibai. I’m bored. I’m done playing.

“Let’s break up.

“If even someone like you can win Best Actor, I’ll jump off the eighteenth floor.”

Back then, I was sitting on the bed, my tone cruel as I nonchalantly swung my legs. Zhou Jibai’s eyes were bloodshot, driven nearly to the point of madness.

He had humbled himself, begging me not to leave.

What else did he say? I couldn’t remember for the moment.

I also didn’t remember whether I had actually fulfilled my promise and jumped from the eighteenth floor.

After all, I had lost the memories leading up to my death.

But I was certain that Zhou Jibai had truly loved me once.

Yet I had looked down on him from my high pedestal, trampling his sincerity and crushing his devoted love into dust.

He ought to hate me.

So, if he could see me, he would surely curse me to death.

As my thoughts swirled, I simply gave up.

Looking like a martyr facing execution, I watched Zhou Jibai approach step by step.

Suddenly, my body passed through something, and Zhou Jibai stopped in front of me, clutching the dress in his hands.

When our eyes met, it felt just like the old days.

He raised his hand, reaching toward me.

“Xia Tu…”

I closed my eyes, resigning myself to fate.

However, a drunken, hazy Zhou Jibai simply stumbled right through my body.

In the end, he hung that white dress on the coat rack.

Frowning like a grumpy old man, he leaned in close to the dress, meticulously smoothing out the wrinkles on the sleeves.

From a distance, it looked as if someone was standing there.

It gave me the creeps.

That empty white dress hanging there looked more like a female ghost than I did.

Still, I breathed a sigh of relief.

He really couldn’t see me; he just wanted to hang the dress up.

Speaking of this dress, I was wearing it the first time I met Zhou Jibai on a film set.

That year, the actress under my management, Yin Zhaixing, had just shed her “mean girl” label through a variety show, and her career was seeing a resurgence.

I had signed her onto a xianxia drama.

It was the first xianxia IP by the great director Si Tong-a rare opportunity.

Moreover, as long as the script for a xianxia drama was decent and the costumes and sets were brilliant, the fan conversion rate would be incredibly high.

I always saw exactly what others needed to do.

But I was the one who stumbled on that particular set.

The male lead of that drama was a scrawny guy. His bare-back shots looked terrible-bony and completely lacking any charm.

The director reached his breaking point and decided to find a suitable body double among the extras.

That was when Zhou Jibai stepped forward.

Under the gaze of the entire crew, he pulled off his tank top, leaving only his grey trousers.

“Director Si, I’d like to try.”

His physique was indeed excellent-so good, in fact, that he didn’t look like an extra at all.

I was surprised that someone with no roles to play could maintain such a disciplined physique.

Later, in that scene, Zhou Jibai acted as a young immortal disciple. With his hair tied up high, his character was run through by a sword.

Before dying, the young immortal disciple knelt on the ground, shirtless. As blood stained his lips, his hands gripped the blade tightly.

He gazed at the female lead and whispered softly:

“Immortal Lord, I won’t make it to see the flowers bloom.”

Everyone was standing behind Zhou Jibai. Along with the cameras, their eyes were fixed only on his lean, muscular back; they couldn’t see his face.

Only I, who happened to be standing opposite him because I was having a smoke, saw him.

Zhou Jibai’s eyes were slightly red, sorrowful and moving. He looked as though he might shatter at a single touch.

Staring into those eyes, it took me a long time to snap out of it.

That was when I realized I had been drawn into the performance.

He acted so well that I suddenly felt like crying.

That moment felt like a treasure chest opened only for me.

Only I, by the chance of a cigarette break, had glimpsed the brilliance radiating from within.

After the director yelled “Cut,” everyone started clapping.

Including me.

Others were cheering for the second female lead’s performance, but I was cheering for Zhou Jibai’s young immortal disciple.

And my heart felt as if it were suspended in mid-air after a firework had exploded.

In those few seconds of eye contact with Zhou Jibai, I felt a sense of wonder and a fluttering in my heart.