“Who hasn’t experienced a crush during their school days?”

——《Lunar Diary》

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#Qin Sang’s Ten-Year Promise#

# Qin Sang, Golden Bell Award Winner #

Since the Golden Bell Awards ceremony, Qin Sang’s name seems to have permanently planted itself on Weibo. Her every move trends, and to this day, eight out of ten trending posts in the entertainment section are still connected to her—the sheer proportion is astounding.

As for the term “aerospace,” which was captured by chance that day and ultimately became an associated buzzword, it has been submerged in the overwhelming flood of chaotic information, making it far less noticeable now.

Only her manager felt something was off and pressed for answers afterward, asking, “Why on earth were you reading aerospace news out of nowhere?”

Qin Sang argued plausibly, “As an ordinary person, can’t I be concerned about our country’s current developments in aerospace technology? Can’t I have a heart that strives for active improvement and learning?”

If it weren’t for living closely with her, one might have been easily fooled. The agent sneered, “Sure, that works. Where can’t you study? Must you study at an awards ceremony? What? Do you think you’ve already reached the pinnacle of your field, so you plan to ascend to the heavens along the way?”

Qin Sang thought for a moment, “That might not be a bad idea.”

The agent was so angry that she laughed. She retorted sharply, “Don’t you dare try to be witty with me.”

Just as a work call came in, the agent gave up on digging deeper. Qin Sang had been a supporting actress for nine years and finally clinched the Best Actress award this year. For her, this wasn’t just recognition—it was also the best boost to her fame, fortune, and status.

Since the news of her win was announced, calls for various types of work invitations have been pouring in, with countless offers coming from all directions. As her agent, it’s only natural she’s been kept extremely busy.

Although she sensed something unusual with her keen intuition, there simply wasn’t time to dwell on it.

After the agent left, Qin Sang felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted.

She removed her makeup and exercised, not resting for a single moment.

When Liu Chengcheng video called her, she happened to be in the middle of her skincare routine. Watching her go through a series of skincare steps left Liu Chengcheng dazzled. From the other end of the video, she exclaimed, “It’s too exhausting being a female celebrity, isn’t it?”

Qin Sang kept her eyes closed as she applied a face mask and basked under the red light. “Although I’m naturally endowed with beauty that I can hardly abandon, how could I maintain a good appearance in front of the camera at all times without putting in any effort behind the scenes? ‘No pain, no gain’—have you heard that before?”

“That’s true,” Liu Chengcheng nodded in agreement. “That’s why you’re the one who became a female celebrity.”

Qin Sang wagged her finger, “Wrong. The prerequisite for me to become a female star is because I’m beautiful enough.”

“Right, right, right,” Liu Chengcheng laughed heartily on the other end of the video, like a dutiful straight man, always ready to flatter her, “The naturally beautiful superstar, do you have time next week? Would you grace us with your presence and hang out with your old classmates?”

“Us?” Qin Sang caught that pronoun, “Besides you, who else?”

“You haven’t checked the class group chat, have you?”

“No time.”

Since the award ceremony ended, her workload has doubled—magazines, interviews, all sorts of programs, and invitations for film and TV projects. Her days have been nonstop, twenty-four hours a day, without even a moment to close her eyes and rest, let alone find time to pay attention to messages in the so-called class group.

Liu Chengcheng nodded. “Okay, well, ever since you won that award, the internet has been flooded with your news everywhere. Even bus stops and subway stations are plastered with your ads. Our classmates saw that and got excited about it, talking about organizing a get-together to have a meal and catch up.”

“But none of them knew you were in the group chat, and no one had your contact information. They remembered that you and I used to be close, so they asked me to reach out and ask.”

“I just asked, you know. If you don’t have time or don’t want to go, I’ll turn it down for you. It’s just a few old classmates anyway—not like we have to meet, and it might even be awkward if we do.”

Liu Chengcheng was hesitant and couldn’t hide anything, so in the end she spilled everything.

“To be honest with you, this gathering was organized by Tang Minmin. Tang Minmin—remember her? Back in school, she always liked to put you down and compare herself to you.”

Though it’s been a long time, I do have a vague impression of that name.

Qin Sang nodded, “So what?”

“She gave him an invitation too.”

Liu Chengcheng hedged vaguely.

Qin Sang’s mind was elsewhere, and he didn’t catch the underlying meaning. “Who?”

Liu Chengcheng couldn’t hold back any longer and blurted out, “It’s Xie Yunchen.”

“Even though he hasn’t replied yet, and we’re not even sure if he’ll come, I just wanted to be prepared, you know? What if he really shows up? It’d be pretty awkward to run into him.”

Qin Sang fell silent, her gaze slightly dazed.

It had been too long since she’d last heard that name. Hearing it brought up so abruptly, she was still trying to process it.

Liu Chengcheng sighed, sounding a bit resigned. “Honestly, I thought it wouldn’t matter much, that after all these years, you’d probably have moved on…”

After graduation, Qin Sang had almost completely lost contact with her classmates. Even Liu Chengcheng, a good friend from her school days, had only reconnected with her a couple of years ago. Due to work commitments, the two hadn’t had much time to chat in the past couple of years.

Before tonight’s video call, their conversations had remained at the level of idle chit-chat from last week. It was only when Liu Chengcheng heard a senior in investment banking mention that something had gone wrong with the Xie family that a corner of her long-buried memories was pried open.

At the time, she really didn’t think too much of it and simply shared the news about the Xie family as gossip with Qin Sang: something had gone wrong with the Xie family, and it had even affected Xie Yunchen’s work—he might even face suspension.

She thought nothing of it, but who knew that just two days later, she would scroll through her feed and find Qin Sang trending for openly slacking off at an awards ceremony.

Liu Chengcheng felt restless on the edge of her seat, fearing both that Qinsang might not have let go and that Xie Yunchin might actually agree. If these two were to meet, wouldn’t it be unbearably awkward?

After much deliberation, she decided it was best to come clean.

Qinsang’s mind wandered; she had always known that aerospace was Xie Yunchin’s dream.

However, she had no idea that Xie Yunchin had actually joined an aerospace research institute after graduation. With his family’s circumstances, how could they have allowed him to pursue his own dreams?

Even at the awards ceremony, it was only by chance that she remembered such a person and such a matter.

It was purely out of curiosity that she decided to look up some related information.

“Are you okay?” Liu Chengcheng asked uneasily, feeling guilty as if her good intentions had backfired.

Qin Sang snapped back to reality, “What could possibly be wrong with me?”

“You don’t mind?” This time, Liu Chengcheng was the one surprised.

Qin Sang replied with a light tone, “Mind what? It’s just an unrequited love from the past, isn’t it? Who hasn’t experienced a crush during their school days?”

“Besides,” Qin Sang said dismissively, “it’s his loss for missing out, not mine.”

Liu Chengcheng stared at the stunningly beautiful face on the video call and nodded in firm agreement. “You’re right. After graduation, Xie Yunchen has never shown his face. Our classmates haven’t seen him in ages. Maybe he’s let himself go physically. And as a researcher, his hair probably didn’t survive either. He might be completely different from the past now.”

“You’re absolutely right.”

Qin Sang fiercely peeled off her facial mask, somewhat gritting her teeth, yet there was always a trace of feigned confidence in her words.

As for what Xie Yunchen looks like now, she has no idea.

Back in his school days, he truly lived up to the title of a “troublemaker”—excellent in character and academics, coming from a well-off family, not to mention that face of his: clean-cut and bright, with the spirited, youthful charisma unique to that age.

Even after being in the industry for ten years and encountering many male actors, she had never come across anyone quite like him—the kind who could make you fall at first sight.

Back then, she was just the most ordinary among the vast student body—her family background was average, her grades were nothing to boast about, she wasn’t particularly clever, and as for her face…

Qin Sang unconsciously touched her cheek. Perhaps the only advantage she could take pride in was this face of hers?

It’s a shame that at that age, beauty wasn’t like it is now—something that could be turned into an unstoppable, all-conquering weapon.

Grades and rankings seemed to be the most talked-about and closely followed topics for everyone back then.

But after all this time, it doesn’t really matter anymore.

The things I once cared about and couldn’t let go of have all become part of the “past.”

Over these ten years, she had never once thought of a person like “Xie Yunchen.” They were from two completely different worlds, after all—most likely, their paths would never cross again in this lifetime.

Qin Sang thought for a moment. Originally uninterested in this class reunion, her perspective had now shifted.

“How about this? Send me the specific time and address later. If I don’t have other work arrangements that day, I’ll go.”

Liu Chengcheng, seeing her openness and seeming genuine lack of concern, immediately breathed a sigh of relief, saying, “Alright.”

　　……

As a public figure, Qin Sang has strict dietary habits and a regular schedule. When she has no work obligations, she usually needs to be in bed by ten o’clock, avoiding any unhealthy habits that might affect her appearance on camera.

Tonight, chatting and sharing stories with Liu Chengcheng ran a bit long, and by the time she ended the video call, it was already half past ten. Yet, she still couldn’t seem to find any sleepiness.

Tossing and turning in bed, Qin Sang reached for her phone on the nightstand and opened WeChat.

She has two WeChat accounts: one is her work account, specifically used for handling business activities and facilitating communication with partners regarding processes; the other is relatively private, where her moments are almost entirely filled with snippets from her daily life.

She logged into WeChat and scrolled through her Jingcheng First High School class group chat. The group wasn’t particularly active—despite showing 999+ unread messages, the conversations were still from two days ago.

Some mentioned her, while others talked about other classmates. After graduating from high school, everyone went their separate ways, now scattered far and wide. However, quite a few classmates still lived in Jingcheng, which was why they had planned this long-awaited reunion.

Some classmates had already changed their display names in the group to their real names. Qin Sang scrolled through and noticed an account named “Tang Minmin” tapping on another account with the username Letter X in the group.

[“Tang Minmin” patted “X”]

[Tang Minmin: Xie, are you in Jingcheng too? Coming to the class reunion next week?]

Xie?

“X” is Xie Yunchen?

She paused briefly, then continued scrolling down.

The group chat was buzzing with activity, yet the user “X,” who had been specifically tagged, had not responded at all.

Qin Sang raised her eyebrows slightly. This was indeed in line with Xie Yunchen’s character—he had always been cold and distant in his interactions with others.

She wasn’t interested in the lofty discussions in the group chat, nor was she interested in other people’s private lives, but rather…

Qin Sang clutched her phone, hesitating for a long while before finally tapping into the “x” account.

This doesn’t count as prying into someone else’s privacy, right? She was just curious about how Xie Yunchen was doing now.

What if he really had grown to be less attractive? Wouldn’t that mean her past taste was pretty poor?

Qin Sang pursed her lips, her heart racing uncontrollably. But when she clicked into the Moments on WeChat, the result left her deeply disappointed.

“X” didn’t have any Moments.