Born with innate sensitivity, Hu Xiu had always believed since childhood that there are moments when people plunge into destiny, like falling into an abyss. She had experienced what could be considered "terrifying" phases in life, but those were merely lows—when a smooth road dips into a depression, it feels arduous, yet it has little to do with fate. Now, standing immobilized in the darkness, a voice in her heart kept saying, this is it. The sensation of stepping onto a tightrope and losing gravity, fear and wonder creeping up her bones, yet being too exhilarated to contain herself—this was something not everyone could comprehend.
Someone approached in the darkness. Qin Xiaoyi gently stepped back half a pace, shielding her behind him. Hu Xiu, still in the midst of her fall, was protected by Qin Xiaoyi, as if they were walking the tightrope together for love. The one approaching with a knife was likely the cheerful boy who came with the Shanghai woman; his voice was clear and his speech rapid: "Big brother, let her go this time, or I won't be polite next time."
Confirming the surroundings were safe, Qin Xiaoyi turned slightly: "You really should go now. You can't hide here for long."
Hu Xiu stepped out reluctantly, cautiously scanning the area: "It's all because your voice is too magnetic—whether you speak softly or loudly, it's highly recognizable. And, you're too thin."
"Complimenting me?"
"Saying you lack a sense of security." Her heart overflowed with joy: "Watch me here, Minister Qin. Even with a knife, I'll win. Last time you said I was foolish."
"Of course you're clever." Qin Xiaoyi's smile deepened in the darkness.
"Next time you come, will you still recognize me?"
"Probably."
Dashing out from behind Qin Xiaoyi to the main road of Rong City, the only ones left alive on the entire field were her and Zhao Xiaorou. Zhao Xiaorou was also surprised that the final Battle Royale required eliminating her closest friend, but she had no intention of losing. The coatings on everyone's bodies lit up, and Li Ai, rarely excited, said: "Xiu, go for it. This might be the only place you can beat her."
Hu Xiu looked at Zhao Xiaorou, whose intentions were clear, and felt somewhat conflicted. She wasn't the type to betray a friend for victory, not even in a game. In the seven rounds she'd played on Snowpiercer, she had been deceived almost every time, all because she was too kind-hearted. Now, remembering the bold claim she'd made to Qin Xiaoyi, she mustered her courage and thought, betraying a friend would only happen this once in the game, even if it was just to win and show Qin Xiaoyi.
Suddenly, someone shouted: "Hu Xiu, Zhao Xiaorou has something to ask you—who exactly is your boyfriend?" Wang Guangming pointed at Qian Jinxin, then glanced at Qin Xiaoyi and laughed: "Now, who should be cheering for you? Minister Qin Xiaoyi, or your legitimate boyfriend?"
"Wang Guangming, shut up. He's not her boyfriend." Zhao Xiaorou frowned and blurted out.Qian Jinxin stood nearby, and Hu Xiu felt a bit flustered herself. She thought that since Qin Xiaoyi remembered her, explanations could wait until the next time they met at Snowpiercer. Instead, she felt a touch of protagonist's pride—if one stepped back from the current stalemate and viewed it from a distance, the scene unfolding on Rong City’s main street was practically a life-and-death showdown of a Republican-era female lead. A crowd stood around, one woman dressed in a red dancer’s outfit, the other in a blue cheongsam, each holding a knife, with lighting and music perfectly set—a scene rarely seen even in TV dramas. Seizing the moment while Zhao Xiaorou was distracted, Hu Xiu lightly sliced Zhao Xiaorou’s clothing with her knife, just enough to activate the coating. She looked up at Qin Xiaoyi; this was her first time making it to the end at Snowpiercer, yet she felt a twinge of worry—she didn’t want Qin Xiaoyi to think she was someone who would betray a friend.
Zhao Xiaorou threw her knife to the ground with a clatter. "Wang Guangming, I’ve really had enough of you. I want a divorce!"
The room fell silent. Everyone exchanged glances, and Hu Xiu stood frozen, unsure what to do next. Wang Guangming’s expression was one of weary familiarity, even impatience. "Stop causing a scene. If you’re upset, we can talk about it at home."
"We’ll talk right here. I can’t wait until we get home. And Hu Xiu’s business has nothing to do with you anymore. What are you all staring at? The show’s over!"
"Since when did you grow such a backbone? Are you divorcing me over Hu Xiu?"
"I’m doing this for myself!"
"She’s been two-timing both on and off stage, playing with men, and you’re hiding her by threatening divorce? What exactly are you trying to achieve?"
"Oh—what am I trying to achieve? Even Dai Peni wouldn’t know what I want! But you, how do you have the nerve to keep up this act with me? You’re not exactly clean yourself, yet here you are playing the righteous hero. Who gave you the courage—Liang Jingru?" Zhao Xiaorou flung the dancer’s shawl off her shoulders. "Wang Guangming, aren’t you tired of pretending to be the loving couple with me? Is deceiving our fans that much fun?"
Qian Jinxin was also stunned, looking around before stepping in to mediate. "You’re husband and wife; how can you argue like this in public? Besides, a woman should be gentle and obedient to her husband, not make him lose face in front of others. Zhao Xiaorou, listen to me, keep quiet. This is just a role-playing game; those people are merely actors, not worth getting so worked up over."
"You shut your mouth too—I’ve put up with you long enough. Just because Hu Xiu respects you doesn’t mean I won’t call you out. Which ancient rulebook or coffin-pressing scripture spat out someone like you? Which page of the 'Classic of Mountains and Seas,' which episode of 'Journey to the West,' which chapter of 'Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio' are you from? Even if this is a Live Action Role Playing Game, it’s set in the Republican era—1936, the 25th year of the Republic, women have been liberated, understand? What, are your feet still bound? Say one more word, and I’ll twist your head off the moment we step out that door, believe me?"
"How—how can you talk like that?" Qian Jinxin wanted to continue scolding but was dumbfounded by the rapid-fire retort. Picking a fight with Zhao Xiaorou was a bad idea; once she started, she wouldn’t stop until the opponent was utterly defeated. "I’m talking about you. And you, Wang Guangming, this divorce isn’t over. Don’t use Hu Xiu as a shield to annoy me. Hu Xiu has been my sister for almost ten years; even if there are relationship issues, it’s not your place to bring them up in front of everyone."The scene was chaotic, more like a deliberate disruption. No one had left; the central streets of Rong City were packed with people. Wang Guangming, unusually, wasn’t playing the role of the loyal husband—he seemed genuinely angry and aware that in the immersive theater, without phones, no one would know what was happening. He continued to confront Zhao Xiaorou: "Don’t think I don’t know the schemes in your mind. You befriended Hu Xiu because she’s poor, ordinary in looks and talent, pitiable—nothing compared to you. You enjoy keeping such a follower to play the savior, don’t you?"
Li Ai didn’t step forward, but his cane was already pressed horizontally against Wang Guangming’s chest. Someone emerged from the crowd—it was Qin Xiaoyi: "The game is over. No arguing. Let’s exit orderly through Rong City’s gate."
Before he could finish, Wang Guangming shoved him. Qin Xiaoyi’s cheek was scraped, and his waist hit the corner of a wooden table—the impact loud and sharp. A surge of anger rose in Hu Xiu’s heart—she knew well that Wang Guangming liked to bully the weak and avoid the strong. In such a setting, even friends shouldn’t resort to violence, but in his eyes, the cast and crew were just service staff, inferior and powerless to retaliate. Li Ai stood guard beside Zhao Xiaorou, preventing Wang Guangming from approaching, while other NPCs rushed in to intervene: "No assaulting the cast and crew. Please leave."
In the entire scene, only Hu Xiu stood alone. She hadn’t expected this grand drama to end not just with her sweet love story but also with a moral conflict and physical altercation, with her Qin Xiaoyi getting hurt. She no longer cared to discern whether Wang Guangming’s words were malicious or if Zhao Xiaorou’s friendship with her was truly fragile—all she worried about was Qin Xiaoyi’s pained expression. By the curtain call, a bruise had already appeared on Qin Xiaoyi’s face. Timidly, she asked, "Are you okay?"
"I’m fine."
Qin Xiaoyi’s eyes never looked at Hu Xiu again.
After leaving Snowpiercer, the group split up. Hu Xiu, changed into her clothes, waited for Zhao Xiaorou to come out. She saw Li Ai standing in the lobby with his teenage cousin, who was drowsily leaning on the sofa—the girl had no interest in the collapse of adult marriages, only wondering when her cousin would take her home now that the game was over at one in the morning. Li Ai was still apologizing to the surrounding staff, too busy cleaning up the mess to mind his cane. Hu Xiu was unusually clear-headed—nothing was more headache-inducing than seeing the one she liked injured, her best friend heading for divorce, and a midnight scene causing chaos in a public place. Not spotting any NPCs, she felt uneasy.
Zhao Xiaorou strode out of the dressing room in her leather boots, the heels not fully slipped into the soles, stomping around inside the shafts. She tugged on her jacket and didn’t forget to ask about her husband: "Where’s that bastard Wang Guangming? Did he just leave? Who did he go with?"
"Why bother about him since you said you’re divorcing?"
"We haven’t finished talking, of course I need to find him. Tomorrow I have to fly to Beijing for an event, and he’s supposed to join me." She sighed. "How troublesome it is when a couple’s work is tied together. Luckily, I hired my own assistant—the itinerary and styling contacts for this event are with me. Wang Guangming used to believe that no matter how much we argued, we should resolve it by the same night. Look at him now, probably gone straight to some little internet celebrity." Zhao Xiaorou waved at Li Ai: "Come to my place tonight. I have something to discuss with you—and help me pack some parcels while you’re at it."Li Ai's Audi Q7 always carried the subtle fragrance of gardenia, his late wife's favorite perfume scent. A small blanket lay on the backseat, which he handed to his cousin in the passenger seat upon entering the car. Within a few intersections' time, she had already fallen sound asleep. Zhao Xiaorou kept her phone in hand throughout, its vibrations as persistent as a crying infant. Her thoughtfulness manifested in subtle ways—never hastily hanging up work calls, always delivering copy and video materials even late at night, and above all, never having her personal assistant handle private deliveries. As Zhao Xiaorou would say, people join minor internet celebrities' companies to learn skills, not to become nannies—boundaries should be clear. Perhaps the Snowpiercer was the only respite in her 24/7 life where she didn't need to clutch her phone, but Wang Guangming shattered these precious three hours of peace. To Zhao Xiaorou, the Snowpiercer was nothing less than her secret sanctuary.
When the conversation turned to divorce in the car, Zhao Xiaorou's voice remained low yet resolute: "I don't need to settle scores with him either. It's an uncontested divorce—we'll split our earnings fifty-fifty. I became the internet celebrity while he masterminded things behind the scenes. No one's freeloading here."
"Aren't you going to try reconciling?" Hu Xiu couldn't help asking. "Divorce might be manageable, but emotional rupture is serious business. If you're still attached, there's room for discussion. Once divorced, there's no going back."
"A man shops for new shoes, and discards the old pair once he finds them. Right now he's just avoiding going barefoot—understand? Throughout our marriage, he's been cheating outside. The only reason he hasn't divorced me is that among all his flowers, nobody earns more than I do. But I won't allow anyone to shatter my ideals about love. Don't I deserve someone better? Hu Xiu, believe me—marriage is absolutely not a good thing. You might find contentment, but never true happiness. You may love your husband deeply, but you'll never like him perpetually, since every day becomes a test of human nature."
As these words hung in the air, her phone rang. Li Ai drove steadily, Wang Guangming's voice audible throughout the vehicle. Surprisingly calm, he reasoned with Zhao Xiaorou: "Rourou, haven't you made enough of a scene?"
"I'm not making a scene. I just want a divorce."
"You and I don't need to go this far. And I genuinely love you—all those online rumors about me cheating are false. I revolve around you daily—when would I even have time for affairs?"
Zhao Xiaorou remained silent, merely tugging stray hairs from her knitwear to rest on her shoulders.
"Rourou, I've never felt our relationship was troubled. I know how considerate, kind, and hardworking you are. That live stream audio got leaked online—many are calling me scum now. But splitting up won't benefit you either. Netizens can be ruthless these days—divorce could hurt your brand collaborations. Remember the Double Eleven shopping festival ahead? Think of the advertising revenue we'd lose."
"Yes, we're both cash cows."
"None of your sarcasm. When I organized that Live Action Role Playing game, I only meant to give you and your friends some fun—you needed fresh air too. Seeing Hu Xiu getting so cozy with that Non-Player Character rubbed me wrong—just helping out a buddy."
"Enough, Wang Guangming. See you in Beijing tomorrow. Let's both rest well tonight—after all, we have to perform as the perfect couple tomorrow."
After hanging up, Zhao Xiaorou watched the flowing city lights outside and exhaled softly, tracing characters on the fogged window: "Sorry for being so pathetic. To end up like this—I've really failed."In the deep of night, she, draped in a yellow cardigan, was as fragile as a wilted rose. Hu Xiu reached to hold her hand, but the fingers she withdrew were damp—she had been crying. The night was still young, and Li Ai's voice was resolute: "Zhao Xiaorou, you still have us."
The word "us" was barely audible. Zhao Xiaorou, who had been holding her phone to reply to a message, took a long moment before responding: "Li Ai, if you keep being my support group, I'll have no bottom line."
Without affirming or denying, Li Ai simply drove the car deeper into the night.
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