Fall - Chapter 1

Yue Can slept until afternoon, the room dark as night. She wasn’t awakened by an alarm, but by the buzzing vibration of an incoming call.

She extended a bare arm from under the covers, groped for her phone, and answered with her eyes still closed. “Hmm?”

The voice on the other end was urgent. “What time is it? Why are you still sleeping?”

Yue Can replied with a groggy, nasal tone, “Who is this?”

“Who is this?!” The caller laughed in exasperation. “It’s your sister! Yue Can, get up right now! Immediately! Do you hear me?! If you mess up this afternoon’s audition, I’ll strangle you.”

Yue Can’s ears rang. “Okay, Sister Jing,” she mumbled. “Mission guaranteed.”

After hanging up, Yue Can slept another half-hour before finally dragging herself out of bed. She showered, washed up, threw on some casual clothes, and left without makeup, striding out with a confident air.

The afternoon’s audition was for the cover of VE magazine’s A edition, a highly competitive spot.

Yue Can bought a coffee downstairs for lunch and drove to the audition venue. During the drive, she received another urgent call from Song Jing, asking when she would arrive.

“Almost there,” Yue Can said calmly, glancing at the navigation app. “About ten minutes.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Song Jing was an independent fashion designer whose brand was just starting out. She desperately needed exposure and publicity, making the VE cover crucial for her success.

Yue Can and Song Jing were old partners, Yue Can practically Song Jing’s “go-to” model. Whether they secured the cover spot depended entirely on Yue Can’s audition performance that afternoon.

Ten minutes later, Yue Can met Song Jing as agreed.

“Ah, my little darling, you finally made it!” Song Jing rushed over, visibly relieved.

Yue Can: “I’m on time according to our agreement. I’m not late.”

“Still, a little sense of urgency wouldn’t hurt! It’s the VE cover, you know! Everyone else has been here for ages.”

“Even if I’d arrived early, I’d still have to wait.”

“You’re being way too relaxed.”

Yue Can said casually, “You don’t want me to be nervous during the audition, do you?”

Song Jing spat out a series of “Pah!”s.

When Song Jing first recruited Yue Can, it was precisely because of her effortless composure. Later, Song Jing began to think Yue Can was too relaxed, as if nothing in the world mattered to her.

“Alright, let’s get you ready for hair and makeup.”

“Mm-hmm.” Yue Can brushed back a few stray strands of hair from her forehead and followed Song Jing.

The makeup room buzzed with activity. Today was the second round of auditions, with six brands vying for the cover spot. Song Jing’s brand lacked the influence of its competitors, meaning she was betting everything on Yue Can’s performance. Her anxiety was inevitable.

Yue Can sat down at the makeup table, tilting her face slightly as she effortlessly cooperated with the makeup artist. At twenty-six years old, with seven years in the industry, she was practically an “industry veteran,” thoroughly familiar with every step of the process.

The makeup artist and stylist were both familiar faces, a safe choice for such an important occasion.

The shoot was for an autumn/winter campaign, and Yue Can’s look today was a blend of sophisticated maturity and effortless ease, perfectly complementing the brand’s aesthetic. Even though the makeup artist had worked with Yue Can before, she was still struck by the stunning result.

Song Jing, equally impressed, gave Yue Can a thumbs-up, her nerves calming by half. As she studied Yue Can, she couldn’t help but marvel: this woman was born for this.

Yue Can was the kind of model designers and photographers adored—highly adaptable, capable of embodying diverse styles, and possessing a captivating presence. Her beauty was far from bland, a rare quality that explained why she remained in high demand despite no longer having the advantage of youth.

With time to kill before the audition, Yue Can scrolled through her phone to pass the time. Her gaze was fixed on the screen, her fingers rhythmically swiping through the dense text.

The stylist occasionally adjusted Yue Can’s hair, noticing her engrossed in something on her phone. She smiled and made small talk, “Reading? No wonder you have such an elegant aura. It truly shows that you’re well-read…”

The stylist suddenly fell silent, her gaze inadvertently landing on a snippet of text on the screen:

Two women… caressing each other… passion… fervent kisses… losing control… panting… naked… entwined…

Yue Can chuckled softly and continued reading, her eyes fixed on the screen, clearly intrigued.

The stylist stared incredulously at Yue Can’s profile, her composure slightly shaken. Was this stunningly beautiful woman, with such a serious expression, actually… studying erotica?

Yue Can had a habit of passing time by reading novels. No matter how tumultuous the stories became, they always circled back to sweet, satisfying endings.

How wonderful, she thought.

Sometimes, she envied that.

Just before the audition, Yue Can finally put down her phone. Song Jing, looking as anxious as a worried parent, touched up her lipstick and said, “Good luck.”

Facing the camera, Yue Can transformed into a mature, reliable professional. Her movements flowed seamlessly, her poses effortless, and every glance and expression was crisp, decisive, and brimming with emotion. She gave the photographer virtually no chance to take a bad shot.

“Fantastic! Let’s try another angle!” The photographer was so thrilled he nearly lost his composure, repeating “Fantastic!” countless times.

Song Jing felt a surge of absolute confidence, her gaze fixed on the monitor as the photos refreshed endlessly. Her lips nearly split from grinning. Discovering Yue Can by chance years ago had truly been like striking gold.

Yue Can’s foray into modeling began at age 19, during her first summer break from university. Song Jing remembered it vividly. A friend had taken her to a photo studio, and Song Jing immediately spotted her, asking if she’d be interested in auditioning.

Initially, Yue Can treated it as a casual experiment, never considering a career in modeling.

Song Jing hadn’t expected to recruit Yue Can either. The young woman was a wealthy heiress, financially secure. Why would she bother with such a grueling, unstable profession? It seemed unnecessary. But then Yue Can suddenly approached her, expressing interest in part-time modeling to earn money. Song Jing was pleasantly surprised.

Having grown accustomed to the modeling lifestyle, Yue Can never transitioned to another career after graduating. Her laid-back personality and aversion to office jobs made this profession a perfect fit.

The audition stretched into the evening, with results expected in two days. However, Yue Can’s performance today had clearly secured her the role—the remaining steps were mere formalities. Song Jing grabbed Yue Can’s hand excitedly. “I knew you’d nail it! I love you so much!”

Yue Can wasn’t buying it. “Come on, give me something real.”

“I’ll treat you to dinner and a hot spring next time,” Song Jing said, glancing anxiously at her phone to reply to messages. “I have to run. Thanks for your hard work today!”

Yue Can stretched her neck, feeling the fatigue. Her phone rang beside her. She picked it up. “Mom.”

“Can you come over tonight? Everyone’s waiting for you.”

Yue Can replied in a tone that sounded half-alive, “Forget it. I’m exhausted from the shoot. I’m not going.”

Tan Ming didn’t press further, used to her daughter’s stubbornness. Tonight was the company’s 20th-anniversary gala, and she had hoped Yue Can would make an appearance.

Both of Yue Can’s parents were successful entrepreneurs, but she hadn’t inherited their business acumen and had no interest in commercial affairs. This had led to countless arguments with her family. Eventually, her parents relented, saying as long as she was happy, that was all that mattered.

Yue Can changed back into her own clothes and left VE. As she drove home, she got caught in rush hour traffic, and it started raining halfway there.

The weather tonight was terrible—muggy and humid. Naxia City’s rainy season lasted for over half a month, leaving everything damp and sticky.

Gripping the steering wheel, Yue Can impatiently tapped her fingertips against it. The rain had put her in a foul mood.

A WeChat notification popped up. Yue Can glanced down and saw it was from her friend Zhong Ran, who had also attended the banquet tonight.

—So many beautiful women tonight!

—A feast for the eyes!

—Are you sure you’re not coming?

Yue Can read the message but didn’t reply. Zhong Ran’s usual tactics held no appeal for her. While she liked women, she wasn’t interested in simply looking at pretty faces. Besides, she thought Zhong Ran’s definition of “high visual appeal” was far too broad.

A few minutes later, Zhong Ran continued her WeChat barrage:

—CanCanCanCanCanCanCan

—Guess who I saw!

—You’ll never guess!

—[Photo]

Yue Can still wasn’t interested in opening the message. Zhong Ran had always been flamboyant since childhood, and she was used to it.

The rain continued to fall, and the traffic remained gridlocked.

Ten minutes passed, and they moved only fifty meters.

If it hadn’t been for the sheer boredom of the standstill, Yue Can wouldn’t have bothered opening the WeChat message Zhong Ran had sent her over ten minutes earlier.

The photo.

The image was blurry, as if it had been taken from a distance and zoomed in several times. It showed a woman’s profile, her beauty still evident through the haze.

Yue Can studied the photo closely. When the details finally came into focus, her heart felt like it had been struck by something blunt and heavy. Caught completely off guard, she stared at the image, suddenly deaf to the sound of the rain outside.

The red light ahead turned green, and the road began to clear. A chorus of impatient honking erupted from behind.

Yue Can snapped back to reality, jolted back to the present. She absentmindedly drove forward, the traffic now flowing smoothly, but her heart had begun to tighten.

She’s back?

So what? It has nothing to do with me.

Thinking this made her feel lighter. Yue Can continued driving along her original route, indifferent, for ten minutes, twenty minutes…

By the twenty-first minute, she gripped the steering wheel and made a U-turn.

The banquet was now at the dining portion.

Zhong Ran sipped her red wine and checked her phone. Yue Can hadn’t replied to her message. Had she not seen it, or…? A sudden wave of anxiety washed over her. Should I not have sent Yue Can that photo?

“By the way, Wanzhao, have you told Can Can you’re back?”

Bo Wanzhao glanced at Tan Ming. Yue Can’s features were strikingly similar to her mother’s. She subtly tightened her grip on her wine glass and smiled. “Not yet.”

Tan Ming sighed, rubbing her temples. “She refuses to return to the company. She’d rather be a model.”

“Is that so?” Bo Wanzhao replied with a smile.

“As long as she’s happy, I suppose. She’s grown too independent to control now,” Tan Ming said. “You should come over for dinner sometime. It’s been so long…”

Distracted by Tan Ming’s words, Bo Wanzhao’s gaze briefly drifted elsewhere.

When Yue Can entered, she immediately drew attention. Her outfit—a tight-fitting tank top and loose jeans—was utterly out of place for the formal occasion. Yet, her ability to make casual clothes look striking was a fundamental skill for a model.

Seeing Yue Can’s arrival, Zhong Ran felt a mix of surprise and inevitability.

“Didn’t you say you were busy?” Tan Ming frowned slightly at Yue Can’s outfit, disapproving of the skimpy top. She murmured, “Why did you come dressed like that?”

Yue Can glanced sideways at the tall woman standing nearby—it was her. But she acted as if she hadn’t noticed, casually replying to Tan Ming, “I was passing by after finishing work and got hungry, so I thought I’d grab a bite.”

“What kind of job doesn’t even let you eat properly?” Tan Ming grumbled.

“Gotta maintain my figure, you know? It’s normal to feel hungry,” Yue Can said with a playful smile, her tone slightly coquettish.

“Wanzhao, Can Can’s here.”

Only after Tan Ming spoke did their eyes finally meet directly.

Their gazes locked.

Yue Can finally saw her up close, but the moment felt surreal, like a dream. She was wearing a perfectly tailored, expensive shirt, exuding competence and sophistication, a far cry from her former impoverished self. Now she was radiant and polished… After all these years, she must have achieved all her dreams.

Time and distance had blurred many things. Compared to their past intimacy, there was now a sense of unfamiliarity.

Neither spoke for a moment, as if they didn’t recognize each other.

Forgetting was normal.

Tan Ming smiled at Bo Wanzhao and said, “This is Yue Can. Has it been so long that you don’t recognize her?”

From summer to summer, seven years—Yue Can knew the exact duration. Tan Ming, unaware of their hidden past, couldn’t possibly understand the emotions swirling between them.

Bo Wanzhao gazed at Yue Can with unwavering composure, smiling as she spoke first, “It has been a long time.”

Her words were remarkably casual, as if time had erased everything, leaving no lingering resentment or special connection between them.

Yue Can nodded with equal nonchalance. “Six or seven years, perhaps?”

Bo Wanzhao’s gaze softened. “Mm.”

After that, there was nothing more to say.

Tan Ming led Yue Can to greet the other guests, Yue Can moving through the crowd like a bewildered puppet.

Someone approached Bo Wanzhao. “President Bo, may we take a photo together?”

“Of course,” Bo Wanzhao replied.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

Yue Can overheard these brief exchanges, recognizing the familiar voice—warm, gentle, and unhurried, just as she remembered.

Reluctantly dragged by Tan Ming to greet strangers, Yue Can was finally rescued by Zhong Ran, who pulled her away from the crowd.

Seeing Yue Can laughing and chatting, her demeanor relaxed and carefree, Zhong Ran cautiously asked, “Did you really just happen to be passing by?”

Yue Can, mid-bite of cake, raised an eyebrow. “What else would it be?”

“Such a coincidence?” Zhong Ran pressed.

Nearby, a woman asked, “President Bo, are you feeling unwell?”

“I’m fine,” Bo Wanzhao replied. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”

Yue Can scooped up another bite of cake, a smear of cream clinging to her finger. She quickly finished the cake and turned to leave.

“Where are you going?” Zhong Ran asked.

“To wash my hands,” Yue Can replied.

In the restroom, Bo Wanzhao leaned against the sink, her breathing slightly rapid, her emotions restless. She glanced at her reflection, trying to calm herself.

Moments later, Yue Can entered. The two women stood about a meter apart.

Bo Wanzhao’s complexion was pale.

Despite the years that had passed, Yue Can immediately recognized the signs of Bo Wanzhao’s old ailment—it always flared up on rainy days. Back then, she would have rushed over to hug her, to soothe her distress…

“President Bo, would you like me to stay with you?” A third woman entered, her voice filled with concern. It was the woman who had been chatting with Bo Wanzhao earlier.

Yue Can turned to the newcomer and politely answered before Bo Wanzhao could respond, “There’s no need to trouble yourself.”

The woman paused, startled. “You’re…?”

What identity? Yue Can smiled, answering casually, “Her sister.” She had no other identity to claim.

“Then I’m relieved.”

Once they were alone again, the air hung heavy with silence. Yue Can asked softly, “Are you okay?”

Bo Wanzhao regulated her breathing. “I’m fine.”

Yue Can placed her hands under the faucet, letting the densely aerated water cascade over her skin. The subtle, ticklish sensation made her lower her head as she rinsed the cream from her hands, continuing their casual conversation, “Didn’t you say you’d never come back?”