2 a.m. to 6 a.m. – the most delicate hours of the night. Whenever insomnia strikes, it brings self-blame, panic, and soul-searching.
Embarrassing memories surface, depression devours faith like darkness, and uncertain love fuels wild thoughts.
Unable to sleep, Hu Xiu felt as if the organs in her chest had been stolen, her breathing rhythm thrown into disarray. The hollow sensation kept her tossing and turning.
She sat up, retrieved the Super Junior concert DVD she always kept nearby, and opened her laptop to watch Lee Donghae singing ballads. Her fingers moved across the desk following the piano melody—this was her usual method to dissolve unease.
Her detached soul observed her sitting at the desk, disheveled and despondent, mechanically dissecting the song with listless eyes—a classic heartbroken state. Since meeting Qin Xiaoyi, she had never sunk to such gloom.
It was time to stop calling him Qin Xiaoyi. He was Diao Zhiyu, a twenty-two-year-old boy graduated from Shanghai Theatre Academy, with decent income among his peers, handsome and spirited.
In the Interactive Theater, his profound yet aloof demeanor easily won him admirers. Maintaining polite distance while unintentionally leaving traces of affection in others' hearts—all could be summarized as acting skills and emotional intelligence.
To monopolize such a boy's affection would require countless strategies; at the very least, sincerity alone wasn't enough. She wasn't the only one carrying affection to seek him out.
From the first time she met Qin Xiaoyi, Hu Xiu had misplaced her position. He was an actor, she was a player—the relationship between performer and audience in the theater. Breaking the Fourth Wall didn't mean she was the only one in the audience.
The theater excelled at playing with public psychology, much like how success manuals and emotional chicken soup became bestsellers in bookstores. Ordinary people needed to employ tactics to win others' favor.
Ordinary—what an accurate word to describe failing to pursue a handsome boy, hitting the nail on the head.
Hu Xiu shook her head vigorously.
Qin Xiaoyi holding an umbrella for her on a rainy night was because he couldn't bear to see a girl drenched;
Carrying her out of the Haunted House was out of instinctive concern; escorting her home was because it was too late and unsafe...
If it was all an act, for someone so young to possess such cunning would require incredibly dark psychology and a desperate desire to craft his persona.
Not everyone is born to be such a hypocritical performer—at least, the Qin Xiaoyi she knew was absolutely not like that.
His tenderness and concern were probably innate gifts, like straightening a fallen chair—it was his nature.
And she, at twenty-seven, had experienced one terrible relationship and, counting her adolescent crushes, couldn't be considered emotionally deprived.
Now, even if she greedily clung to Qin Xiaoyi's concern, wanting to gain a little more by his side, she had to pretend ignorance and continue playing with him on the Snowpiercer. Stay still, treat Ning Zechen's words as background noise—even if she couldn't manage it, she had to try.
Outside the window, the sky gradually brightened, then turned blue. The morning sunlight held something fragile and ambiguous, much like Hu Xiu lying on the balcony sofa gazing at the sky.
Many people miss the predawn hours—those thoughts as thin as gauze yet impenetrable, subtle and profound.
But when the Heavenly Stairway Nightscape slowly melts away, everything becomes clear.Many people only feel heart-wrenching pain when forced into insomnia at the moment of awakening; or perhaps, most people lack logic, or are too weary to discern, and still can't figure things out.
She wasn't sleepy, nor tired, just her heartbeat was rapid, and her breathing short. While going downstairs to work, she gradually understood this feeling in her chest—as if there were no diaphragm separating her heart from her lungs—was fear.
The chance of her dating Qin Xiaoyi was one in ten thousand, and she was so afraid of losing him.
After sitting at the computer for an hour, Hu Xiu felt the characters she input into the system were flying chaotically across the screen. Damn, the consequences of staying up late had arrived as expected.
Monday's big meeting was likely to last until noon, so she needed to slip out to buy a coffee—the kind with two extra shots.
Just as she was looking for an opportunity to sneak out unnoticed, a colleague suddenly called out: "Xiao Hu, the leaders from Huangpu District are here. The meeting is about to start. Are the materials printed?"
"Leaders? I didn't hear about it last week."
"They're here for a surprise inspection—it's a hospital, after all. But we just need to set things up and sit in the back row. It's nothing to do with us."
Hu Xiu carefully checked the numbers in the system. With five minutes left, a wave of discomfort hit her. She pinched the date on the calendar—damn it—her period.
After an emergency trip to the restroom, she hurriedly fetched a cup of hot water next door. Returning, she saw a man in a white coat standing by her computer. He glanced at her and left.
She had never seen a doctor in her office before; his sudden appearance made her extremely nervous.
The spreadsheet on the screen was still waiting to be printed. After drinking her coffee, she took a closer look: the report had no typos, and the shift schedule from the head nurse and the doctors' work hour calculations had no omissions. She needed to print them quickly and get it over with.
Standing in the back row, Hu Xiu saw the hospital's Party secretary from afar—a middle-aged man who appeared at 9:15, neither greasy nor bureaucratic. He smiled and nodded kindly when he saw her.
The topic discussed was the year-end bed and medication shortages, while praising the younger staff, making her feel that many stereotypes about Shanghai were gradually changing.
After more than ten minutes of discussion, Hu Xiu was still lulled by the slow pace and monotonous tone. Leaning against the wall by the door, she quietly bumped the back of her head against it to stay alert. Her stomach ached—such an unlucky Monday.
At this point, she almost wished these leaders would occasionally shout like actors in Snowpiercer; otherwise, her nodding off seemed inevitable—
Damn, age spares no one. Back in the day, she could pull all-nighters to study for exams and then take the BEC speaking test in the afternoon without feeling the slightest bit drowsy.
The door beside her suddenly opened—it was the doctor who had been at her computer earlier. Along with the wind swept in the scent of coffee. Hu Xiu greedily inhaled the air—so fragrant, it was the smell of a caramel macchiato.
The vice president by the window quickly noticed the doctor who had pushed the door open and smilingly introduced him to the secretary: "This is our talented young Dr. Pei, Pei Zhen. At thirty-one, he already has his own patents and high-impact factor papers. He'll be an associate professor soon."
Before Hu Xiu could process it, that caramel macchiato was in her hands.
The topic of conversation in the meeting room had shifted to the cross-regional outpatient settlement platform—
A key project in Shanghai for 2018, allowing universal healthcare coverage in the Yangtze River Delta, with settlements no longer restricted by region.Only then did Hu Xiu understand the reason for the inspection—they had been heavily involved in system data entry related to this matter recently.
She quietly brought the coffee close to her nose and took a deep sniff, reminding herself: Don't fall asleep. If you sleep, you lose. Hold on.
If she collapsed, this cup of coffee would surely fall to the ground—a fragrant, sweet caramel macchiato that shouldn't go to waste.
After chatting in the conference room for about fifteen minutes, Pei Zhen politely excused himself first: "I'll take my leave now, everyone. I have other matters to attend to. I need to borrow someone from you—I require some documents printed."
With that, he tugged at Hu Xiu's sleeve and smoothly guided her out. Hu Xiu stumbled backward a few steps in confusion and found herself outside the conference room door—
If he wanted to take something, he could have just taken the caramel macchiato. Was she some kind of coffee coaster?
Yet this action truly saved her from dire straits—she had been mere seconds away from dozing off.
Wanting to return the coffee to him, she gently tapped the doctor's sleeve. When he turned around, he let out a yawn: "It's for you. I'll be getting off night shift and heading home soon."
"Ah?"
"You're utterly exhausted, aren't you? I just rescued you, but to avoid anyone accusing you of slacking off, go wait in my break room. Print another copy of that shift schedule for me—I need it for the head nurse."
"Okay. Thank you for the coffee, but I... can't really drink it these days due to some discomfort."
As soon as she said this, Hu Xiu felt a sharp abdominal pain, her back contorting into a twisted curve: "I might need to take the afternoon off."
"That serious?"
"Occasionally. Probably overworked lately..." All for Li Ai's sake, cramming three medical conferences over the weekend.
"Then what you need isn't to avoid coffee, but medication—come with me."
Pei Zhen walked ahead while Hu Xiu, bent over like a shrimp, trailed timidly behind him. The doctor's break room wasn't much different from hers, except the office was slightly larger and had an additional sofa.
Pei Zhen's workstation was tidy—no family photos, thick books neatly arranged on a three-tiered shelf against the wall, document holders stacked with files, a stethoscope on the desk, and a green checkered coat along with two slightly yellowed white lab coats hanging on the coat rack.
Pei Zhen retrieved medicine from a drawer and handed it to her, then bent over the water dispenser: "Science-based pain relief. Take ibuprofen if this happens again."
Hu Xiu held the paper cup, the coffee still untouched. Pei Zhen glanced at her: "Don't pull all-nighters. I corrected that glaring typo in the document title for you earlier."
"You can keep the whole box. I'm clocking out now."
"Thank you..."
"You're welcome..." Pei Zhen lowered his head and carefully examined her name tag: "Hu Xiu? Is that your real name?"
"Mm..."
"Interesting. My shift's over. Goodbye."
Such a gentlemanly doctor had helped Hu Xiu tremendously this morning. Yet Hu Xiu wasn't irrational enough to interpret this as personal interest. After the battle with Qin Xiaoyi, she no longer mistook such assistance for flirtation—especially in an office where colleagues help each other. Beyond indicating the doctor had a good heart and excelled at workplace relations, there was no need to read further into it.
After taking the medicine, Hu Xiu felt a heavy, dragging pain in her abdomen—weak but no longer breaking out in cold sweats. She printed the shift schedule, clipped it together, and placed it on Pei Zhen's desk. Under the glass desk pad was a postcard depicting the Northern Lights.
After finishing her tasks, Hu Xiu took leave to go home and catch up on sleep. Lying in bed, she spotted the DVD on her desk and found herself unable to sleep again.They say exhaustion can crush impulse, but not for Hu Xiu. Checking the showtimes on her phone, she decided—
To use last time’s free haunted house voucher for the 3:30 Snowpiercer session.
Just as she changed clothes and settled on the sofa, Hu Xiu overheard four chattering women in the adjacent lounge.
Their voices were mature, each sentence delivered with affected poise and a hint of Shanghainese meticulousness in their enunciation.
Most notably, the actress who’d previously played Lin Qiumei had enthusiastically bought coffee for the group next door, and they were still joking around.
A blue-haired woman stood up, smoothing her hair with pride and restraint. "Fiftieth visit anniversary. Let’s see whose name I’ll pick for a tip today."
As she stepped out, Hu Xiu locked eyes with her. Blue bob with side-swept bangs, a face tightened by injections, lips curled in superior disdain. The other three followed, each swaying their hair and strutting with affluent grace—the renowned Tycoon Ladies Club, stumbled upon by Hu Xiu.
But surprises didn’t end there. Rong City’s iron gate opened to reveal Qin Xiaoyi in a white suit—young, tender, his voice like a seventeen-year-old’s—a new actor.
Only then did Hu Xiu remember she’d forgotten to check the actor schedule today. She might’ve come to Snowpiercer only to miss Qin Xiaoyi.
The four tycoon ladies lined up, blocking the players’ path while staring intently at Qin Xiaoyi, making the young boy blush. He only asked the players behind them, "Have you all brought your Invitations? Follow me, everyone."
Different versions of Qin Xiaoyi were entirely distinct. This one’s features were more refined and aristocratic—a slight dorsal hump on his nose, straight brow bones, full forehead and cheeks—evoking a young master freshly returned from abroad during the Republican era, overwhelmed by wartime chaos. Meanwhile, the Qin Xiaoyi Hu Xiu adored exuded superiority through his sharp-angled features—coldly elegant, cunning, with a touch of neurotic fragility, his aura utterly innate.
Seeing this noble scion before her, Hu Xiu had to admit her misfortune, yet the scene felt familiar. She’d bought tickets repeatedly just to glimpse Qin Xiaoyi, only to forget about checking schedules now.
Admittedly, that pure disappointment was far happier than now knowing too much.
Entering Rong City’s first scene, players stood in two rows watching Qin Xiaoyi and Feng Youjin perform opposite each other.
Ning Zechen strode in with his collar open, winking at Hu Xiu before teasing mischievously, "Minister Qin and Officer Feng, no more arguing. Our distinguished guests are waiting."
"Especially Minister Qin—newly appointed, ambitious, handsome, and wealthy. Everyone’s vying to visit you in Room 301. Isn’t that right, Miss Feng?"
Hu Xiu glanced at her name tag. Ning Zechen, who’d gossiped with her all night outside the show, now pretended not to know her, using his rogue character to flirt: "This Miss Feng is so beautiful, probably just back from studying abroad. What a coincidence—Minister Qin too. First meeting—shall we have a proper chat?"
This was worse than sleeping at home. The Tycoon Ladies Club plus a new Qin Xiaoyi actor—nothing went right. Five hundred yuan utterly wasted.Before Hu Xiu could answer, a familiar voice called out from Rong City Avenue: "Gathering rumors, trading valuable goods—in these chaotic times, fortunes rise like roaring flames and fade like wind through grass. Seek the strategist, I, Li Rong, can accomplish anything."
A lanky figure flashed past the doorway, glancing inside and giving Hu Xiu a casual smile.
Hu Xiu’s heart nearly leaped out of her chest. How had Qin Xiaoyi suddenly turned into Li Mazi!
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