“I know I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again—the man’s ridiculously photogenic,” Yi Ling commented as she bit into an apple. “He should have gone into showbiz, what a waste of that figure and face.”
“Oh, by the way, do you want me to post these photos to your Weibo, Huanhuan? I think they’d make great PR.” Yi Ling got out her phone and showed Yan Huan the photos she had taken of her during the mudslide.
“No.” Yan Huan did not want to publicize the fact that she had been in Peace City. She could care less about “marketing” herself, either through wholesome news or scandalous gossip—she would earn her fame and reputation on her own merits, one step at a time. And besides, the mudslide had caused a lot of pain and suffering to its victims; it would be extremely insensitive and callous of her to use it as a PR boost to her image.
The aerial photos taken by the helicopters showed a desolate landscape, devoid of all signs of life. The survivors had lost their homes and family; it would be cruel to rub salt into their wounds by releasing intimate photos of the tragedy to the public. They were victims—not a circus show or entertainment for the masses.
Yi Ling was disappointed. She was sure the wholesome photos of Yan Huan helping the survivors would help Yan Huan increase her number of fans and followers.
On the other hand, the netizens might accuse Yan Huan of staging the photos.
Yan Huan reached out and poked Yi Ling’s cheek.
“We should try to stay humble and grounded. Not everything has to be about fame and fortune.”
“Okay,” Yi Ling said with a slight pout.”I won’t upload them.” She did not post the photos, but she did not delete them, either. They were too precious to delete.
It took a while for news coverage of the Peace City mudslide to finally die down. In Yan Huan’s previous life, the survivors had been skin and bones when they were finally rescued; thanks to her intervention this time around, they had gotten by in relative comfort. As for their future, well, Yan Huan could not do anything about it. It would be up to the government to help them now.
A few days later, it was finally Chinese New Year’s Eve.
Yan Huan made dumplings for Yi Ling.
“Aren’t you going to invite Lu Yi and Lei Qingyi over?” Yi Ling asked as she ate a dumpling. She knew that both men enjoyed eating Yan Huan’s dumplings as much as she did.
“It’s the New Year,” Yan Huan replied simply as she ate the dumplings in her bowl. As per Chinese tradition, Lu Yi and Lei Qingyi would have to return to their family homes to celebrate. This was especially true for the Lu family; no matter how busy they were, they always gathered in the main family house for the reunion dinner on the eve of Chinese New Year.
It was the Lu family tradition, and as far as she knew, it had never been broken—at least not after she had married Lu Qin in her previous life. In any case, there was no way Lu Yi would be coming over to her place to eat her dumplings.
“I see…” Yi Ling was not particularly upset to hear that. In fact, part of her was relieved that she would be able to eat as much as she wanted, without having to save some for potential guests.
Yan Huan placed half a dumpling in Little Bean’s food bowl.
“Little Bean, let’s celebrate Chinese New Year together.”
“Meow…”
The cat eagerly ran over to the food bowl and began eating the dumpling. It was not the first time Little Bean had eaten Yan Huan’s dumplings; Yi Ling always gave Little Bean half a dumpling from her own bowl whenever they had dumplings for dinner. In fact, Little Bean liked it so much she could eat a whole dumpling, if given the chance.
Outside, fireworks flared as they snaked towards the heavens.
Yan Huan looked out the window in time to catch the fireworks burst in the sky with a loud boom. They were beautiful, but they lasted only a few seconds.
The fleeting nature of fireworks made them all the more beautiful.
The things that remained outside your reach always seem better than the ones within reach.
The things you lose always seem better than the things you have.
Those were the thoughts that flitted across Yan Huan’s mind as she lowered her head and bit into another dumpling. She tried not to show it, but the fleeting nature of the fireworks had left her feeling a little melancholic inside. It was supposed to be the day for family reunions, but she and Yi Ling were both orphans now. She could not even recall the taste of her mother’s dumplings.
Her dumplings were not her mother’s. No matter how delicious they turned out, they would never compare to her mother’s dumplings.
The last time she had seen her mother was a long time ago–during her previous life. She had not seen her mother for more than a decade now. She had not been able to save her mother in her previous life, and she had failed to do so this time around, too.
Perhaps this was her fate.
Perhaps this was her mother’s fate.
Whatever it was, Yan Huan no longer had her mother’s dumplings to look forward to during Chinese New Year. She missed the ang pow her mother used to give Yi Ling and her, too.
As the night deepened, Yan Huan could hear the faint sounds of firecrackers from somewhere outside. It used to be tradition for the people in Sea City to stay up the whole night during the eve of Chinese New Year to usher in good fortune for the following year, but the tradition had begun to die out in recent years.
Only those from the older generation still insisted on it.
Yan Huan placed a book on her lap and began reading it to help pass the time. She was not feeling sleepy just yet.
She was in the middle of her book when her phone began to beep and vibrate. She reached for her phone, and saw that she had received several text messages from her friends and acquaintances. There was one from Liang Chen, one from Yan Boxuan, one from Huang Ming, and one from Director Jin—directors and actors she had worked with previously. They did not see each other much because of their busy schedules, but they were her good friends, all the same.
When she saw the last message to come in, her fingers trembled.
It was from Lu Yi.
She remained motionless for a long moment. Her mind had gone blank: she seemed to have forgotten how to open text messages.
Should she open his message?
Or should she ignore it?
She struggled with herself, but before she knew what she was doing, she had already opened the message.
“I left something on your doorstep.”
That was it. The message was short and succinct—entirely characteristic of how Lu Yi usually spoke and behaved. He did everything quickly and efficiently, without beating around the bush. There was never an irrelevant sentence from him, or an unnecessary word.
Yan Huan quickly put on her slippers. She ran out of her bedroom, giving Yi Ling—who was in the living room watching the annual Spring Festival TV Gala—a huge fright.
“Huanhuan, where are you going?”
Yi Ling yawned. She was sleepy, but she had to watch the Spring Festival TV Gala. The quality of the show had gone downhill in recent years, but that did not stop her from watching it. It was tradition—it did not feel like Chinese New Year, not unless she was sitting in front of the TV, watching the Spring Festival TV Gala.
“I’m just stepping out for a moment.”
Yan Huan opened the door. As soon as she stepped outside, she spotted a small cardboard box on the floor. She picked it up and shook it; there was barely any weight to it.
When she returned to the living room, Yi Ling immediately snatched the small cardboard box from Yan Huan.
“What did you buy? I didn’t know they deliver so late in the night, and on the eve of Chinese New Year, too.”
Yan Huan plucked the small cardboard box from Yi Ling’s hands.
She smiled enigmatically. “It’s a secret.”
She went into her room with the box, and then shut the door behind her. Her heart was beating rapidly, and she could not explain why.
Ba-dump, ba-dump…
Her heart pounded in her ears.
She inspected the box; there was no name or signature on it, but she knew it was from Lu Yi. She wondered when he had left it at her doorstep. Had he left it at her doorstep hours ago, before leaving for the Lu family residence? Or had he asked someone else to deliver it for him?
Or had he been standing at her doorstep just minutes ago?
She walked over to her bed, sat on it, and opened the small box.
There was a red envelope—an ang pow— inside the box.
She took out the ang pow and opened it. There were only about 500 yuan in it, but she did not mind in the least. This was the first ang pow she had received in a long while.
She gleefully flapped the ang pow in her hand, laughing merrily. She had finally gotten an ang pow! These days, most people sent digital ang pows to e-wallets and online bank accounts, but Yan Huan still preferred physical ang pows. She enjoyed opening them with her own hands.
She loved ang pows; the red envelopes could contain only one or two yuan and she would still be happy to receive them. To her, ang pows were rare and precious.
She carefully put the ang pow into her drawer. She was in an excellent mood.
She would be able to sleep well that night.
This was the last day of her break from acting; she would have to begin shooting Please Close Your Eyes after the Chinese New Year. She had delayed the shoot for several days because of her trip to Peace City, and she knew she had to make up for it as soon as possible. She was famous now, yes, but not so famous as to be able to hold up production indefinitely. She did not want to come across as an unreasonable diva.
