Qing Yao stood up. Her long robe swept against the floor as she walked towards the pool that was shimmering with light of all colors. A wispy mist hung above the still water surface.
She stepped forward, the ends of her robe brushing against the surface of the water. A water mirror appeared in mid-air; she seated herself at the edge of the pool, and began to kick the water with her feet, sending tiny sprays of water into the air. It was a captivating sight.
Inside the water mirror, Yan Boxuan could be seen struggling to climb up the steps.
“You won’t make it. You’re not going to get to the top.”
She rested her chin on a hand as she toyed idly with the tips of her hair. Her movements were languid and casual.
Lu Yi opened the door to his apartment. He was about to say something, but Ye Shuyun turned around and shushed him.
Lu Yi understood: his mother wanted him to shut up. He changed into his indoor slippers and was about to go upstairs when he caught a glimpse of the TV. The screen was showing the side profile of a young girl sitting beside a pool, her slender, milky white legs splashing aimlessly through the water as she swung them back and forth.
“Miss, the chief is looking for you.” A flustered voice sounded from outside.
Qing Yao extended a hand. The water mirror shattered, vanishing into the pool below. She got up, and walked slowly across the pool on an invisible bridge with her bare feet. In the next shot, she had emerged outside with shoes on her feet.
An otherworldly aura enveloped her body. Her clear, innocent eyes shone from her noble face.
This was clearly a girl who was both mystical and haughty at the same time.
Lu Yi walked over to Ye Shuyun and seated himself beside her. He leisurely stretched his legs and began watching the TV show.
On the TV, Master Qingshan pointed at the young man before him and said to Qing Yao:
“Qing Yao, this man is now your junior brother.”
Qing Yao was stunned. Beneath her quivering eyelashes, a mystified look flashed across her eyes. She was quite sure she had just been watching the man before her through her water mirror. She gaped at him uncharacteristically.
For the first time in her life, the daughter of the head of the distinguished Qingshan Sect was too stunned to keep up her frosty, haughty demeanor.
She stared in open disbelief at the young man in shabby, tattered clothing. This… lowly creature… was now her junior brother?
And that was the end of the episode. Ye Shuyun rubbed her eyes, unable to believe that the credits were rolling. The two episodes for the day were over, just like that, and most of the scenes had revolved around the male lead. Her Little Golden Silkworm had barely gotten any screentime! Now she would have to wait until next week.
The show, which was still filming even as it went on air, had been given weekend prime time slots, with two episodes airing on Saturday, and another two episodes airing on Sunday. The show had debuted on Sunday, which meant that viewers had to wait until the following Saturday for the next episodes.
Ye Shuyun was disappointed. The day’s episodes had zipped right by. She needed more, and the thought of having to wait another six days made her sad.
“Oh, Lu Yi. I didn’t see you.” Ye Shuyun finally noticed that her son was sitting beside her. “When did you get home?”
Lu Yi let out a soft sigh. “Mom, sometimes I wonder if I’m really your son. Would you rather exchange me for that girl on TV just now?” He had seen his mother’s obsession with “her Little Golden Silkworm;” she checked the actress’s Weibo every day, and even left comments on it with her silly account name: “Innocent Auntie.” Lu Yi had to wonder whether his mother had lost her marbles.
Ye Shuyun squinted at her son. “Of course I’d rather have the Little Golden Silkworm! Why would I want you? You’re not a pretty, considerate, loving daughter!”
Lu Yi shook his head in resignation. He got up to go to his room, surprised that he had actually sat down to watch TV. He could not remember the last time he had watched an entire TV episode, let alone a Xianxia show, which had never interested him.
He went into his room, took a shower, changed into his pajamas, and then checked Yan Huan’s Weibo page as he lay on his bed. It was part of his daily routine now. Her Weibo was flooeded with comments; she had uploaded a new photo of herself in full Journey to Fairyland costume, cheekily flashing a “peace” sign at the camera.
She seemed much more friendly and down-to-earth in her photos, compared to her aloof, haughty, and otherworldly image as Qing Yao on TV.
He scrolled upwards to check the Weibo stats. There were already over a thousand comments on that photo, and her follower count had increased to over 5,000. There had only been several hundred followers when he checked the stats a few days ago. It was a massive spike in her popularity; in fact, he could actually see the follower count increase in real time as he lingered on the page.
Innocent Auntie: “My daughter is sooooo pretty! She’s divine! That face, that expression, that sweet, youthful radiance… she’s a true auntie-killer!”
I’m Really A Cabbage: “^^^^ Auntie, OF COURSE our goddess is beautiful. Look at her, she can stand next to Liang Chen and look every bit as gorgeous. My goddess, I’m so in love with you.”
Luoluo Lanlan: “I can’t be the only one who thinks my goddess has perfect legs! Who else is with me on this?”
Call Me Xiao Ming: “Of course they’re perfect! She’s my goddess! Goddess, I want to shine your shoes and wash your feet.”
Small Stool: “^^^^ Count me in! OMG, my goddess is such a bombshell. That look in her eyes kills me every time. And did you all see that stunt where she bent over backwards? I’m 100% sure she didn’t use a double for that.”
Fake Innocent Auntie: “Duh, why would she use a double? My daughter used to be a professional stunt double herself, and I heard that she’s doing all her stunts. I’m so proud of her, but my heart aches when I think about how much work it must be for her. My poor baby!”
Yan Huan’s other followers all replied with a heartbreak emoji after that.
Lu Yi set his phone down. He got out of bed, made a cup of milk tea for himself, and grabbed his laptop from his desk. He got back into bed and began watching Journey to Fairyland from the very beginning.
The day’s episodes were already near the end when he returned home earlier that day, so he had missed out on the first episode. He drank his milk tea as he watched the show on his laptop screen. The blue light from his screen fell upon his face; it was a deep, tranquil blue, like the dark blue of a peaceful sky.
Just then, his phone began to ring.
Lu Yi’s fingers tightened around the empty cup in his hand; he had finished the entire cup of milk tea without realizing it. He reached out and grabbed his phone—it was Fang Zhu.
He put his phone to his ear.
“Hello…” It was a flat, toneless voice, a voice that matched his no-nonsense character. He was not a romantic; in fact, he did not know what it meant to be one. But that applied to the woman on the other end of the line as well.
“Why didn’t you call me?” The woman on the other end was evidently not in a good mood; she sounded like she was interrogating him. Lu Yi could see, in his mind’s eye, Fang Zhu sitting primly on a chair in her house, every strand of hair on her head tucked meticulously in place. A thought occurred to him: this was not an interrogation. This was a teacher getting upset at her student for not having done his homework.
Lu Yi checked the watch on his wrist. Was he supposed to call her every day? This did not feel like a romantic relationship. It felt like a mission he had been assigned with.
“Sorry. I was in the shower just now,” Lu Yi said simply, skipping over the rest of the details.
