Love between Lines

Zhao Xiaorou, too absorbed in her new romance to engage in drama, still rolled her eyes furiously at the messages from Hu Xiu.

Hu Xiu, who had woken at 5:30 AM to study at home, saw Ma Liang’s late-night emotional outpouring.

Without replying, Hu Xiu took a screenshot and sent it straight to Zhao Xiaorou. Ma Liang had shared his location—Shenhai Expressway—claiming he was going wild for love in the dead of night.

Hu Xiu, who usually kept her notifications muted while practicing listening exercises on the Putclub forum, opened her phone later to find a string of romantic updates.

In the ten weeks—two and a half months—since Hu Xiu had started playing Live Action Role Playing Games, Ma Liang’s love life had raced nonstop from Xintiandi and Huaihai Road all the way to a villa in the western suburbs.

According to his version of events, he and Casey from Xintiandi had quickly hit a romantic impasse because she complained too much.

Casey was the agency partner of a rival firm he’d encountered during an Ogilvy pitch. At thirty-six, she had augmented a perky D-cup bust and carried herself with formidable energy as she strode past him.

Though Ma Liang had a thing for that, he wasn’t fond of her overfilled face, preferring the slender yet commanding Jacqueline beside her—who, of course, hadn’t given him a second glance.

The infatuated Casey went to the same gym as Ma Liang. Dazzled by her "headlights," he followed her upstairs that evening.

After a passionate romp on the floor-to-ceiling bed, he thought contentedly: The location really is ideal—no commute to work or the gym.

Reluctantly leaving behind memories of an F-cup Internet celebrity from the nightclub, he packed his backpack and moved into Casey’s place. He even accompanied her to Hong Kong Plaza to buy matching bracelets—

He was pleased to receive a gift, but Casey remarked before heading out: "It’s just Tiffany—silversmith stuff. Wear it for fun."

Ma Liang took those words to heart.

From the moment the first rays of morning light appeared, Casey started complaining: the curtains weren’t drawn properly, there was dust on the floor, the man beside her hadn’t risen to the occasion in time, clients might cut the budget this year… In short, she was exceptionally nitpicky.

But Ma Liang had less patience now. In his words, thinking of his unforgettable sweetheart Rourou made him realize how straightforward a woman could be when she didn’t complain. Someone who gave him Tiffany as a casual trinket would never be the woman he loved most.

He layered his IWC watch with the bracelet and attended a gym friend’s wedding, where he met his current girlfriend, Darcy.

Tired from his frequent partner swaps, he was aloof toward Darcy. But she clung to him obsessively—bringing meals and medicine to the Ogilvy building, fearing he might avoid her over money, and listening to his entire life story at Starbucks.

Eventually, he asked Darcy, "What made you fall for me at first sight?"

Her eyes sparkling, Darcy replied, "All other men flock to me for my money, but you’re so restrained, so polite, and so hardworking. I really like you."

Ma Liang’s message to Hu Xiu was impassioned: "Very few people genuinely care about my past or recognize my struggles. From being a small-time delivery guy in Fengxian to the Ma Liang I am today, Darcy truly sees my efforts and wants to be part of my life.

It makes me incredibly happy. I don’t know if this is real, but I really, really love it.

Now I understand: after thirty, delicate looks are pumped in via syringes. Beyond Replenishing Yin with Yang, I also provide emotional value—I’m pretty outstanding."Of course, I still occasionally miss Rou Rou. She was the most genuine girl I ever liked—unpretentious, not hypocritical, and when she scolded me, it was to help me improve.

But I still have to move on. Darcy is taking me to meet her parents; maybe I'm getting married."

After receiving no replies to her previous messages, Hu Xiu finally couldn't help but ask, "Huh?"

"Her grandmother passed away, and I've been invited to the Tofu Rice Feast. What do you think I should wear?"

Although Zhao Xiaorou wasn't surprised, hearing that Ma Liang had married far away to Qingpu prompted her to call back immediately: "Cuixi, Casey, Darcy—chasing wealthy women really takes him all the way west. What the hell was I doing back then, saving all sentient beings?

Seeing things through to the end? They say good deeds bring good rewards and bad deeds bring bad consequences. Has Ma Liang’s sincerity in pursuing money moved the Buddha so deeply?

His climb has been incredibly smooth. Did listening to paid Great Compassion Mantras count as donating to the temple?"

Hearing this rap-like rant, Hu Xiu knew Zhao Xiaorou was truly angry. She didn't dare respond: "I really don't understand why he's willing to be friends with me."

"Because you're a skilled translator—useful; and besides, you're my friend. Even though I'm an Internet celebrity, I have name recognition, and I'm Gong Huaicong's ex-girlfriend.

Is it more useful to boast about those advertising agency AMs and partners, or to boast about having slept with the same woman as Gong Huaicong?" Zhao Xiaorou's curses were on the tip of her tongue: "What the fuck."

Hu Xiu glanced at the time—it was only seven in the morning. Their body clocks had synced to this extent because Zhao Xiaorou was heading to Sanya for a shoot, bored while waiting at the airport, and Hu Xiu was studying early.

Zhao Xiaorou said, "I won't say more. Li Ai is coming. Being with Li Ai is happy, but it also restrains my explosive temper. Occasionally, I feel the urge to curse but can't—it's irritating."

"What is there to curse about now? You clearly have everything."

"Next week, I have to see Wang Guangming again. There's a sharing session for a fashion blogger after his business trip, organized by Yi Zhou. Five people, and of course, we're the grand finale. Who do they look down on? I have 6.5 million more followers than him, damn it."

"He's just your ex-husband, don't mind it..."

"I don't mind; I'm afraid Li Ai will." Zhao Xiaorou's voice gradually lowered, and before hanging up, she added one last sentence: "Before the divorce, Wang Guangming said he was the cripple I couldn't let go of. It pissed me off."

On the day of the interview, it was raining. Zhao Xiaorou arrived wearing sunglasses and spotted Wang Guangming from afar.

The sunglasses were a good choice. Wang Guangming, that old fox—they had shared a bed, knew which leg he led with when walking, how many bowls of rice he ate, and which way he'd sway when sticking his ass out as a fence-sitter. They understood each other all too well.

Running into him at a Yi Zhou event naturally annoyed Zhao Xiaorou, but seeing her title as a fashion blogger while Wang Guangming was listed as a senior media professional gave her some balance—he had made no progress beyond flaunting his glib tongue.

Green tea indeed doesn't help men improve. The moment a man is coddled and treated as a treasure is the peak of his life's roller coaster.

The bloggers invited by Yi Zhou all had follower counts in the eight figures across platforms. Each blogger had established MCN lines, signing actors or bloggers under their own brands to deepen collaborations with labels.Zhao Xiaorou sat on the stage listening, with Wang Guangming two seats away. Li Ai was seated in the first row, head bowed as he continuously replied to messages on his phone.

He was worried she might clash with Wang Guangming, so he'd come specifically to keep her in check. Friends from their early days as small-scale bloggers had now made fortunes by establishing agencies. Hu Xiu felt secretly anxious—her own influence wasn't insignificant.

Yet she hadn't achieved major success. In the ever-evolving blogger industry, she was already lagging behind others.

Wang Guangming, a seasoned media veteran, picked up the microphone and repeatedly mentioned his marital relationship with Zhao Xiaorou.

The familiar acting routine was back. Hu Xiu crossed her legs the other way, suppressing her irritation, convinced Wang Guangming had only attended the event to gain followers.

Amid flashing lights and cameras, she responded with nothing but aloof smiles.

As the ninth-ranked fashion blogger of 2019, Zhao Xiaorou spoke confidently about her three years of fan management and brand collaborations.

Her voice was sweet, her demeanor elegant, as she candidly shared the numerous challenges she'd faced, including falling out with business partners: "Everyone knows about my crisis—when Gong Huaicong and I broke up, it even trended on hot searches.""

"Back then, our team had only ten people. If not for my partners and friends turning things around..."

"Perhaps now—I'd be a blogger with ten million followers. I missed my growth opportunity."

The audience erupted in laughter. Li Ai looked up, signaling with his eyes for her to tone it down.

Zhao Xiaorou shifted her tone: "But I believe demonstrating professionalism and brand literacy is crucial."

"The fashion industry seems accessible—everyone's a blogger now—but many creators already have backgrounds in international fashion or luxury management. They possess sharp brand intuition and avant-garde trend awareness. The blogger fashion sphere is as ruthless as traditional fashion magazines ever were..."

After the event, the group was invited by Yi Zhou to dinner. Still unsatisfied after the meal, they asked Zhao Xiaorou if she wanted to continue the night elsewhere.

Zhao Xiaorou, who had planned to slip home with Li Ai to watch movies, was stopped by Wang Guangming: "Rare to see you! And with your new boyfriend too? Join us at the bar for drinks?"

"No, we're quite busy."

"It's not just me—all these media folks are here. Don't offend the press, Zhao Xiaorou."

They took the elevator upstairs. When the doors opened, deafening speakers made her head throb.

Revelers from the dance floor spilled into the hallway, creating complete congestion. Settling into their booth, they went through several rounds of drinks. Li Ai discreetly poured his out on the floor, claiming joint pain when pressed to drink.

Wang Guangming raised his glass from across the room: "That bad? Gout? High purine levels? Sorry for dragging you here if you can't drink."

Li Ai smiled and moved to a corner seat. While catching up with old acquaintances, Zhao Xiaorou overheard Wang Guangming nearby: "Zhao Xiaorou's been messing around since her divorce—changing boyfriends, manufacturing buzz, pushing this 'candid persona' act. Little does she know everyone says she's the one who got dumped."

"Divorce is different for men. For women, it sticks—whether you initiated it or not, you're seen as discarded."

"Zhao Xiaorou's quite the actress. Never short of boyfriends, though her standards have slipped—now she's landed herself a cripple."Feeling somewhat displeased, Zhao Xiaorou also moved to sit beside Li Ai for drinks. As the dance floor switched to a slow song, Wang Guangming's words became clearer: "I was at the same Mercedes event the day Gong Huaicong dumped her—her face turned completely green.

Watching her humiliation in that situation, I was too embarrassed to be recognized as her ex-husband.

Back in the early days without my persona, she was just a small-time Internet celebrity. Now it's proven—she really has no brains."

Perceptions in love truly vary due to subjectivity.

Hu Xiu had once thought the kind-hearted Wang Guangming had left her with basic dignity at the Mercedes event, but in reality, his thoughts were—embarrassing.

Enough was enough...

"Li Ai..."

"Hmm?"

"You like me, Zhao Xiaorou, right?"

"Of course..."

"Sorry about earlier, I was acting again. Running into Wang Guangming in this kind of setting made you see my hypocritical side. But for the next few minutes, I'm going to be myself—don't mind me."

Before Li Ai could respond, Zhao Xiaorou kicked off her shoes, strode over barefoot holding her heels—

This time she remembered not to lose momentum, taking off her shoes first. But that wasn't all—she also removed the hat from her head, steadied herself while holding her skirt, and swung her high heels at him: "Wang Guangming, let me tell you—you can criticize me, you can look down on me, but if you say one bad word about Li Ai, I'll smash your stupid head.

Living with that green tea bitch mistress—how come your mouth is still so trashy? Can your grandmother's antique sewing machine stitch your mouth shut?"

Wang Guangming was stunned by this outburst: "Haven't seen you for a year, and you've developed a temper?"

"This temper was always here. Back when I was with you, I was trapped by your persona—now I don't need that anymore.

You're like a toad that people mistake for a golden frog from afar, but what are you doing now? Coming close to disgust people? One more word and I'll slap you without hesitation."

"Before you cried delicate pear blossoms wet with rain, now you've switched to hitting people? Does your crippled boyfriend like you like this?"

Furious, Zhao Xiaorou swung her shoe again—this time the sharp heel grazed Wang Guangming's front teeth. He grabbed her hair: "Are you crazy? When will this end?"

"Say one more thing about Li Ai and try?"

The bar music thundered—conflicts when drunk were perfectly normal. A bespectacled, refined man holding a slender woman in a booth didn't look like much of a fight.

Wang Guangming tightened his grip on Zhao Xiaorou's hair: "How miserable were you really before? Putting on that delicate, pitiful act for two whole years in front of me? Enjoyed the benefits of being a beauty with a persona, then after the divorce became promiscuous and got criticized—happy now?

Then again, if you hadn't fallen to this state, how could you deserve your crippled boyfriend.

You really are low-class. Without me back then, you'd never have amounted to anything. Now you don't even deserve your eight million followers. Thank Gong Huaicong—that was the peak of your life. I even heard you got played by some Romance Scam guy—you really have no brains."

A hand clamped around Wang Guangming's wrist—it was Li Ai. Standing up, Li Ai towered half a head over Wang Guangming: "Watch your language. You were married, but you're divorced now. She's my girlfriend—I've liked her for a long time.

Whether she's worthy or not—Zhao Xiaorou, from past to present, has never been unworthy of me. It's me who's unworthy of her. Could you let go now? If this continues, I won't be polite."Li Ai, who always maintained basic rationality and impeccable manners no matter the situation, had actually squeezed Wang Guangming's hand until it hurt—undercurrents were truly surging beneath the surface.

Surrounded by a crowd, Zhao Xiaorou’s hair came loose as Li Ai swept her into his arms and carried her into the elevator.

The high heels dangled from her hand—perhaps the heels still carried traces of Wang Guangming’s blood, but it no longer mattered. Tonight was her moment to finally hold her head high.

Once outside, the night breeze brushed against her, and she realized her face was flushed and burning hot.

She had shouted herself hoarse with anger earlier, and her heart was still racing—perhaps it was those last few words from Li Ai that made it pound. She asked, "You said you’ve liked me for a long time—is that true?"

"Mhm..."

"Since when?"

"Since the first time you walked into my café."

Zhao Xiaorou stiffened in his arms. "You’re joking."

"It’s true..."

"You must be lying to me." She slipped down, bent over to put on her shoes. Strangely enough, while others transformed by putting on high heels, for her, slipping back into them felt like disarming.

"I’m not lying. But even then, I knew we couldn’t be together. I was tangled in lawsuits, cold and stubborn by nature. To confess my feelings for you would only be the start of your suffering.

Later, I realized that whether I said it or not, all you ever got from me was pain.

It tormented me to see you hurting, but my ex-wife’s death… I failed to protect her. I couldn’t bring myself to reach out easily."

"You tell Hu Xiu everything, but with me, there’s always a barrier."

"You and Hu Xiu are different. She’s been in the depths for so long, never having possessed worldly comforts, so she sees the texture of the world with clarity. You’re not like that. You haven’t lost as much, and you’re proud—easily deceived, swept along, held hostage, only to turn and consume yourself in the end. But me..." Li Ai smiled faintly. "I like fools."

Zhao Xiaorou hadn’t even realized tears were rolling down her cheeks. "You could have told me how you felt about me."

"I did. I rejected you many times."

She cupped his face fiercely. "I mean, why didn’t you just say you liked me?"

"Is it too late to say it now?"

The street after the rain grew colder as dusk deepened. Zhao Xiaorou looked up at Li Ai, who wore glasses, and thought, even if it was just making up for lost words, it was better than never hearing them. Coming from Li Ai, those words carried a weight no other man’s could.

Li Ai gazed at her for a long time before slowly saying, "I love you..."

For so long, bound by their rules, she had imagined countless times what her first kiss with Li Ai would be like.

She never expected it to happen on the most mundane Shanghai street, at a crossroads where the noise faded, leaving only the quiet glow of streetlights—her heartbeat louder than any pulsating music that could pierce her throat.

There was no ecstasy, no madness. All she could recall was the night she accompanied Hu Xiu to watch Rhinoceros in Love, and that one line that struck deep into her heart:

"Many times I thought about giving up, but it left a pain somewhere inside me. The thought that it would ache there forever, that from then on, everything I saw would be lifeless because of that pain—it scared me. Loving him was the best thing I ever did."

Loving him was the best thing I ever did.