Love between Lines

Some unexpected events quietly alter the course of life.

The backstage environment of Snowpiercer remained consistently poor. The changing room curtains were torn and filthy, with trash cans overflowing with takeout containers.

Though the suit had been washed and folded, the trouser creases were crooked, clearly pressed with little care.

He recalled how meticulously he used to press it with an old-fashioned iron before wearing it when he first started.

Even in what seemed like a less prestigious small theater, he never considered himself a minor actor.

The script was straightforward—a wealthy, womanizing playboy who had studied abroad in America, with only one memorable trait: handsome.

The previous actor playing Qin Xiaoyi was strikingly good-looking and skilled at charming female players, earning him the nickname "Boy Toy."

When Diao Zhiyu first joined Snowpiercer, he substituted for Feng Youjin. A month later, he was reassigned to play Qin Xiaoyi. The acting team leader at the time, an extra from film and television productions, looked at him and said, "Diao Zhiyu, this is your chance. Do it well, and you'll make it big."

Making it big in an immersive theater meant little more than receiving some tips and a few compliments on platforms like Dianping and Weibo.

Having worked part-time as a Script Murder NPC and Tabletop Game DM at several venues, Diao Zhiyu felt those tips were rightfully his.

But when he received this script and saw the name "Qin Xiaoyi," his temples throbbed, as if some unseen force was hinting this role would bring him something significant.

After an initial trial run that went smoothly, he followed his predecessor's approach: memorize the lines and maintain eye contact with female players during interactions. By the ninth scene, where his character was thrown to the ground and beaten, he felt little beyond the physical pain—being slammed repeatedly day after day truly hurt.

That particular performance happened to trigger his character's ending. Lin Qiumei, holding the deceased Ning Zechen, stood up and delivered a resounding slap across his face, her eyes filled with hatred and despair.

Lin Qiumei, a graduate of the Shanghai Theatre Academy class of 2013, took her roles seriously and was often called "Little Zhang Ziyi." The force behind that slap felt more like a warning against half-hearted performances.

With no shows scheduled next, he sat in Room 301, cheeks still flushed, spreading open a copy of The Godfather on the table. He poured himself a glass of prop whiskey from the cabinet.

After drinking, he felt overwhelmingly warm. Stepping out the back door, the cold wind pierced through his white shirt.

In that moment, it felt as if the wind had knocked his soul right out of his body, blurring his vision. When he regained awareness, he found himself standing before a mall's floor-to-ceiling window, still in costume, yet sensing something within him had shifted.

His heart raced as he stared at his reflection—shirt unbuttoned, naturally curly hair, face still bearing the sting of the slap, expression slightly strained...

Qin Xiaoyi had granted him a new perspective on everything. A faint realization dawned: something had finally clicked.

Returning to the six-person dormitory, Ning Zechen's snoring echoed loudly. Sitting on the lower bunk, Diao Zhiyu pondered: Was Qin Xiaoyi truly just a spoiled heir?

Born into Rong City's wealthiest family, with influential and capable fathers who shielded him meticulously, even saving Lin Qiumei's life to ensure his smooth-sailing future.

Inheriting the position of Finance Minister, he held no real thirst for power but was forced onto this path solely to win the woman he loved—who, in turn, felt nothing for him...

Sleepless, he entered the dressing room and brushed red eyeshadow beneath his lower lids. Lin Qiumei patted his shoulder with a smile before heading to wait for her cue.Staring at the doorway where she disappeared, he turned to look at his reflection in the mirror—sickly, haggard, neurotic... reality and illusion came into sharp focus.

After that, he consistently ranked first in popularity. He felt nothing about these achievements, only a dull ache in his chest when his gaze fell upon Lin Qiumei.

Twenty-one-year-old Diao Zhiyu often found his family's phones unreachable, squeezed into dormitories with minor actors, with no clear plans for the future, carrying unrequited affection for someone in his heart.

In the underground level of Rong City, the windows were mere painted illusions. Yellow fluorescent lights cast their glow on the floor, snow swirled from industrial fans, and moss quietly thrived in corners. Actors came and went in waves, players formed attachments only to depart—no one ever treated him sincerely. In the shadows, he and Qin Xiao grew intertwined like twin lotus flowers on one stalk.

Hu Xiu had already followed the Shanghai Bund group into the venue. Behind her, Zhao Xiaorou remarked, "Diao Zhiyu is quite calculating. He never told us he'd be playing Qin Xiaoyi—what's this sudden performance about?"

"Is he leaving his job? Maybe he brought his close friends from Shanghai Bund to say goodbye?"

"I truly didn't notice the overlapping cast was from Shanghai Bund earlier—I was too focused on the quest card."

"Besides, I think he might be seeking revenge again. After all, during Shanghai Bund, I had all the storyline actors help witness my marriage with Du Mingquan. Now he's determined to have everyone—including Du Mingquan—witness his marriage."

"All this over your in-game wedding?" Zhao Xiaorou's clicking tongue sounded particularly cutting. "Teenage minds are truly unfathomable—holding grudges over minor slights and repaying them tenfold."

Unable to vent his frustration—he was Qin Xiaoyi now—he turned with gentlemanly composure. "Miss, once you enter Rong City, please focus. Careless words invite trouble—are you aware?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Hu Xiu stifling a laugh, and a dark satisfaction stirred within him. Within the boundaries of Rong City, no one could best Qin Xiaoyi—not Ning Zechen, not Feng Youjin, not even Du Mingquan. After all, Hu Xiu was the player who had replayed his storyline seventeen times for him.

"Hu Xiu, why aren't you wearing the cheongsam I picked for you?" Zhao Xiaorou persisted. "Never mind, I didn't bring my camera anyway—I couldn't photograph your wedding even if I wanted to. I should reveal my identity—with nearly nine million followers, if I offered free promotion, the venue would probably carry me in on a royal sedan chair."

"Don't. I came specifically for Qin Xiaoyi's farewell performance. If he transitions to stage theater afterward, we might never see him again."

"I know, I know. Qin Xiaoyi is your money pit, cash incinerator, and fantasy club all rolled into one."

Pretending not to hear, he approached Rongcheng Restaurant's front desk. "Boss Bai, book me the finest room at Hibiscus City Grand Hotel."

During scenes with Feng Youjin and Ning Zechen, he never once glanced at Hu Xiu—this was his tribute to the final performance.

There would be a formal ceremony later anyway. With each passing second, his anticipation grew increasingly difficult to contain.

When the first act concluded and free interaction began, Hu Xiu quietly pulled him aside. "It feels so surreal," she whispered.

He turned. "What's surreal?"

"My role today was randomly assigned—Yamaguchi Nadako. It's the same character I played during my first visit to Snowpiercer, when I came to your room and we recited those classic lines together... Is this some kind of karmic cycle?"

Qin Xiaoyi couldn't easily break character during performances, so he merely smiled and patted her shoulder before walking away.

Her gaze followed his retreating figure, and guilt pricked at him. The previous performances Hu Xiu cherished so deeply—he retained no memory of her in any of them.He remembered Hu Xiu from the day he got bruised and his face was marked. Before this, many female players had come to his group as behind-the-scenes roles, often slipping him confession notes, taking off his hat or snatching his glasses during the performance.

When he grew weary from acting for too long, he’d find pleasure in flirting with female players in the role—a subtle push and pull, an advanced kind of romantic business.

Saying "I remember you too" to Hu Xiu was no different. But looking back later, that line felt like a form of retaliation against her, recalling that she was an experienced player who had come for herself—and she’d even brought a boyfriend along.

He didn’t understand: if she really had a boyfriend, why come looking for him in the role?

That night, he slept restlessly. Though he had moved out of the dorm, his neighbors were a young couple whose bed often creaked late into the night.

Lying with his hands behind his head, he thought for a long time: if she was just here to cheat, why not actually break them up?

After all, that boyfriend really didn’t seem like much. Someone who came for Minister Qin—how could she be stuck with such a low-quality man?

Sure enough, Hu Xiu came, seeking her out in the latest session. They didn’t reach his ending that round, and she was clearly unhappy.

In the elevator, wanting to comfort her, he suddenly grew nervous and only managed to say, "Qin Xiaoyi’s ending isn’t that interesting anyway. I don’t like it—too tragic."

A hollow comfort, but he clearly saw the disappointment in the girl’s eyes.

Flustered, he couldn’t explain further—an actor shouldn’t over-explain their role.

But in that moment, he understood: she hadn’t come for him, but for Qin Xiaoyi.

The fragile, sensitive Qin Xiaoyi he had created haunted her thoughts so deeply that when he said he didn’t like that ending, the letdown in her heart was written plainly on her face—if an actor couldn’t read that, how could he break the Fourth Wall?

He decided to step out of the role to find her; he had to make it up to her somehow. Opening his phone, her home address was saved in the ride-hailing app. The girl in the orange knit sweater he’d photographed in the rain was her, yet he had no way to contact her. She only appeared in Snowpiercer; if one day she stopped coming, he might never see her again.

He stopped going for drinks with colleagues after work and instead bought a bicycle, riding along Hu Xiu’s route home to "coincidentally" run into her, pretending it was all unplanned. He just wanted to quietly observe her.

And just like the rainy scenes he’d filmed, every time he met her, the air carried a damp, rainy scent—a quiet, ambiguous atmosphere that always seeped through his skin and into his body.

She was always timid, testing the waters with small acts of pleasing, restraining her affection while inching closer, fluttering nervously around him.

He recalled every heart-racing moment—when she stumbled and bumped into things, when she averted her gaze only to sneak glances back at him.

He had seen too many demanding, insatiable eyes; Hu Xiu seemed to leave him plenty of blank space.

Aside from seeking Qin Xiaoyi’s comfort in Snowpiercer, she never asked for more.

This realization made his heart ache. Returning to his empty apartment after work, dialing home with no answer—he’d had enough of the silence and decided to go find her.

Next… he just wanted to be as happy as he was in the role. The Hu Xiu he saw outside Snowpiercer was just as playful as in the role, full of wild ideas, always going to great lengths to take advantage of him… absurd, but not unpleasant.In the script, awkward moments could drive the plot forward, but offstage, unfamiliarity only bred discomfort;

Yet Hu Xiu always found fresh ways to experiment on him. The most outrageous time was when she twisted her ankle on the road. As he carried her on his back, feeling warm enough to walk to the ends of the earth, she moistly licked his neck from behind.

Once again, a knife had been hidden in Room 301. If his guess was right, it was probably Du Mingquan who planted it.

He had previously confided in the Shanghai Bund crew about frequently taking hits in theater, and now he was about to perform a self-sacrificing ruse before everyone.

Dragged through the doorway, he opened his eyes to see the window crammed with spectators—Du Mingquan, Shen Ling, Chen Mingzhang, along with Hu Xiu and Zhao Xiaorou... Did these gossipmongers have nothing better to do?

Had they completed their quest cards? Were their blades ready for the upcoming Battle Royale? How could they all be so leisurely, watching him get beaten?

Feng Youjin brandished a leather whip, conducting a harsh interrogation of him handcuffed to a chair: "Minister Qin, speak up! What's the deal with this knife? Did you kill the General?"

"The General died from poisoning."

"There's also a stab wound on his back, a through-and-through injury. You're the one who enjoys playing with Eastern props abroad, aren't you?"

He stayed in character: "If you're using this to bring me down, that's clever. But hiding knives—only you and Ning Zechen, such underhanded villains, would do that." Ning Zechen slapped him—a feigned motion—prompting screams from the crowd at the window and door.

Du Mingquan shouted, "Harder!" Zhao Xiaorou cried out, "Ning Zechen, why are you undoing your pants? Oh my, Feng Youjin, that whip of yours is so long!"

The two interrogators before him broke character laughing. His face turned ashen—the scene of his tormentors flanking him, his gaze level with their belt buckles, the interrogation whip swishing menacingly, was utterly unbearable.

At the window, Hu Xiu cheered gleefully: "Minister Qin, since when did you develop a taste for this? Getting cozy with Ning Zechen—does Lin Qiumei know?"

Fuming but unable to react, wanting to laugh but stifling it, he could only shut his eyes and pretend not to hear.

As the interrogation room door closed, he kept his eyes shut, knowing the crowd was still watching, especially Hu Xiu, who always grew particularly animated when he played Qin Xiaoyi.

Cracking his eyes open slightly, he found the window empty—heartless, all of them!

Fine. He had time to reminisce. During this brief respite, he might as well dwell on why he'd suddenly become so serious about Hu Xiu.

That stolen kiss in the café he had to pretend not to notice, their daily contest of who could act more convincingly, the push-and-pull ambiguity was undeniably sweet.

Perhaps it was her elusive closeness—spotting her at the window but never coming downstairs; receiving her drunk calls where she calmly questioned his relationship with Lin Qiumei, even buying theater tickets hoping he'd show, her gaze entirely pushing him away...

Pei Zhen appearing at REGARD and Snowpiercer had truly infuriated him.

What did he mean to Hu Xiu? An NPC with no chance of promotion? A childish younger brother chasing her offstage?

A playmate to run through Escape Rooms with but not share a lifetime? He had considered giving up, holing up at home gaming until dawn, only to hear "pentakill" replaced by "I love you."He was serious now. Remembering those soft, trembling lips that had hurriedly brushed against his then quickly withdrawn; then recalling Pei Zhen's unrestrained kiss in the grand ballroom—no, he couldn't bear to let their story end like this. If she had been the one writing the script before and then abandoned it, then he would take up the pen from now on.

Only when pursuing her did he realize how sensitive she was. Even when they were together, she would often grow quiet for no reason, lost in thought, unwilling to share what was on her mind.

He thought that perhaps he needed to completely entrust himself to her to put her at ease. But what method should he use?

Acting training classes—she would never refuse those. What he taught Hu Xiu were basic, foundational acting techniques.

She was clever; after learning, she often turned the tables and acted circles around him until he short-circuited...

That time he genuinely tricked her into coming to his home, he was still running a fever. Despite breaking out in cold sweats, he had to play the role of a skilled man, though in reality his heart felt like it was about to split open, and he just wanted to become a reckless beast... Only when holding her in his arms did he understand that perhaps it was he who couldn't bear to be apart from her.

The only time he got truly angry was when she suggested he become an idol star. He was so furious he'd rather break up than entertain the idea.

He had worked hard to hone his acting skills, only to be rejected by the production team for a role, while the person closest to him told him not to underestimate the industry.

He desperately wanted to retort: when a powerful producer says sleeping with them can secure a role, should one respectfully accept that too? But at that moment, he refused to hurt her with any words.

Removing her chat from the top was like plucking her from the vast sea of people, placing her at the pinnacle of his heart, and then releasing her back into that sea.

Taking Hu Xiu to the department store, Qin Xiaoyi opened the jewelry counter and took out a delicate watch, fastening it gently around her wrist: "Do you remember this?"

As shy as ever, Hu Xiu darted away in a flash. He didn't move, merely turning to Bai Luoyu with a smug expression: "Boss Bai, I'd like a Marriage Certificate."

"Minister Qin, have you not visited the department store in a long time? We don't sell Marriage Certificates anymore."

He stood frozen in place: "What did you say?"

"Rong City no longer issues Marriage Certificates. In these turbulent times, with people struggling to survive, urgent departures from the city, and the constant threat of mutiny, who has the mind for marriage?"

"This rule was issued by the general before his death. Have you been abroad for so long that you've forgotten?"

Every word was part of the act, leaving Qin Xiaoyi wide-eyed with shock. Staring at Bai Luoyu, he pressed again: "None? Really none? Can't you make an exception and sell me one?"

"Minister Qin, Marriage Certificates aren't circulated in Rong City anymore. How could there be an exception?"

"Weren't you all profiting from selling these before?"

Bai Luoyu laughed: "Minister Qin, the Ministry of Finance is yours, and this department store is yours too. Using the term 'profiting' against yourself—what's come over you?"

Furious, Qin Xiaoyi turned and stormed out. At the entrance, he ran into Hu Xiu who had come to mail something. Her face was alight with excitement, still fully immersed in the role even after seventeen rounds of play: "Proprietress, I'm here to mail something—the contract to America! Quick, I need to beat everyone else!"

He snapped impatiently: "You're still mailing things?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"They don't sell Marriage Certificates here anymore!"

Hu Xiu tilted her head and suddenly laughed: "Minister Qin, no need to be so flustered. It doesn't suit your aloof persona."

Standing firm in the department store, he pressed his hand down on the contract to stop her from mailing it: "Did you not hear what I said? They don't sell Marriage Certificates here anymore.""I heard you, don't take it seriously." Hu Xiu reached out to touch his ear, as if feeling sorry for him: "There will be other opportunities."

He turned his head away, not giving her the chance to touch his ear: "Who's getting married? Why would I, Qin Xiaoyi, get married? The one I love is Lin Qiumei, I'll marry no one but her."

If he had known there would be no Marriage Certificate, he would have definitely learned from Hu Xiu and handwritten one before entering.

The players were all his friends from Shanghai Bund, waiting for him to write the Marriage Certificate, witness the marriage, and register it in Rong City, fulfilling his angry obsession.

But now there was nothing—a Rong City without a Marriage Certificate, what's the point?

Someone knocked on the door. It was Hu Xiu. She entered with a smile, sat down, and asked him for some intelligence about Zirconium Ore.

He began reciting his lines on his own: "So the story between us was just a script you carefully planned."

When they broke up, he sadly believed that it was all a script she had orchestrated. She cast a gentle, intricate net that left him unable to escape, sinking him into pain—utterly calculated.

He had already thought the two of them were destined to be strangers, but they crossed paths in Shanghai Bund. Every time he performed and saw her, his heart raced.

The most unforgettable scene was when she exchanged lines with him in the Intelligence Division: "Out of our past affection, I'll give this intelligence only to you. If you had come a step later, this clue would belong to someone else.

But this is the last time I'll do anything for you. Once I step out this door, you will no longer exist in Qin Xiaoyi's heart."

He could hear Qin Xiaoyi mentioned by many, but this time it absolutely couldn't happen. Why did he have to act opposite Mafia members, witness his girlfriend marrying someone else, and recite Snowpiercer lines in the Intelligence Division, and of all people, with his ex-girlfriend?

This net was cast back onto the players above. Seeing the vote count place him first, the clumsy and awkward new Shen Ling on the screen couldn't contain his madness and excitement—his leading lady had indeed crossed mountains and rivers to come for him.

The players were all people close to him, unanimously sending him to a tragic ending—

They were all actors, best at triggering plots to see the story they wanted.

He took out a rose from his chest and gently tossed it into the air under the lights, his expression as lonely as ever, his heart genuinely sorrowful—

Why did he have no connection to the Marriage Certificate at all? The pain of unrequited love left no room for reversal once he entered Snowpiercer. He couldn't have Lin Qiumei, and he couldn't even play games with his girlfriend.

Du Mingquan and Hu Xiu sat at the same table. Once witnessed in marriage by over half the people in this room, today, without a Marriage Certificate, she couldn't transform from the Gang leader's wife into Minister Qin's wife. This would likely become the most heartbreaking event of his year, painful enough to keep him awake at night—

After this session, he would no longer be a Live Action Role Playing Game actor. He would never have another chance to get married with a Marriage Certificate.

During the Battle Royale segment, he glanced at his team members: Dai Li, Chen Mingzhang, Li Ai—none needed protection. At this point, breaking the rules a little wouldn't hurt, right?

He took the knife from Dai Li's hand: "Lend it to me..."

"Huh?"

"I'm going to have a final showdown with Du Mingquan. Today, I'll settle the score with the Marriage Certificate. What happened in 1941, let's handle it in 1934."

"Huh?"

He knew the terrain better than anyone—the mechanisms, hidden passages, ambush spots, the best places for frontal attacks—he knew them all.When only Du Mingquan remained in the final standoff, Hu Xiu found himself caught between laughter and tears. "Minister Qin, this really isn't necessary... it's just a fictional scenario..."

"You don't understand. This is a battle between men." He gestured to Du Mingquan: "Come..."

The blade left its sheath as both men began testing each other's defenses - a single scratch on the coating would decide the victor. After extensive feints and parries, he thought: the moment had arrived.

At that moment, a figure rushed over—it was Hu Xiu. Seizing the moment of his distraction, Du Mingquan's blade swept past Hu Xiu, making the coating on her clothes shine even brighter.

Hu Xiu collapsed into his arms, acting with utmost seriousness: "Minister Qin, though we couldn't marry today, dying in your arms now leaves me with no regrets. Let's meet again in the next life..."

Qin Xiaoyi held the feigning-dead Hu Xiu, struggling for a long time before breaking character: "You're really too good at acting..."

The group emerged from the Snowpiercer, meandering as they prepared to head to an izakaya and drink until dawn.

Diao Zhiyu, having changed out of his suit, repeatedly confirmed with the new actor that the suit must be carefully ironed and kept tidy—after all, Qin Xiaoyi was a fastidious, aloof prince who absolutely couldn't let his costume down.

Hu Xiu's clumsy acting was praised by over a dozen people in turn, until Diao Zhiyu couldn't take it anymore: "I couldn't even handle that awkward performance, stop complimenting her."

"Improv is only fun when you encounter players like this," Du Mingquan said, standing by the roadside with hands on hips. "What a pity, how did such a clever girl end up as your girlfriend?"

"Shut up..."

Hu Xiu and Zhao Xiaorou stood side by side studying their phones, while Li Ai walked nearby smoking. Diao Zhiyu leaned in: "What's this? Still planning to see Super Junior's concert?"

"You don't understand, this is the joy of fangirls—I'm even making a light sign."

Pulling Diao Zhiyu closer, Hu Xiu couldn't help but ask: "Why do you care so much about a Marriage Certificate?"

"Nothing, just playing around," Diao Zhiyu said, pulling a mint candy from his pocket. "The name on that Marriage Certificate on your wall is Feng Youjin."

"Oh my god, that's you too. Even if I like Qin Xiaoyi, being together in reality is enough."

"It's different..." Diao Zhiyu wrapped his arm around Hu Xiu's shoulder. "Were you satisfied with Minister Qin today?"

He couldn't explain why he wanted that Marriage Certificate. That lost look in the elevator—perhaps the girl before him had long forgotten it.

After all, when lovers hold hands and reminisce about sweet memories, they often discover that their most profound points of remembrance are completely different.

The Qin Xiaoyi who once lived within his twenty-one-year-old self, and the Hu Xiu who once traveled over mountains and rivers for his twenty-two-year-old self—they were so precious, precious enough to want to preserve those memories together with the Snowpiercer forever. This itself had little to do with the real-world Diao Zhiyu and Hu Xiu.

After all, his story as an actor truly began when Qin Xiaoyi met Hu Xiu.