At 11:47 p.m., Ma Xieren discovered that thousands of people disliked her.
She discovered this while sitting cross-legged on the floor of a rented apartment, eating cold noodles from a plastic container and waiting for her boyfriend to reply to a message she had sent three hours earlier.
The apartment was quiet except for the low hum of the refrigerator. A small lamp beside the sofa illuminated the coffee table, where two unopened letters, a half-empty bottle of water and a collection of receipts had been left in a disorderly pile. Her suitcase remained beside the bedroom door. She had intended to unpack it that afternoon, but a call from Ji Xiaoke had interrupted her, and somehow the task had been postponed until tomorrow.
Tomorrow had become the day on which she would do everything she had neglected today.
She would wash her hair. She would sort through the clothes she had brought back from the filming location. She would call the landlord about the maintenance fee she had been charged incorrectly. She would finally update her acting résumé.
And, if Xiaoke had time, perhaps she could persuade him to have dinner with her.
Xieren lowered her eyes to her phone.
Her message remained unanswered.
Xieren: Have you eaten yet?
She had sent it at 8:36 p.m.
At 9:12 p.m., she had sent another message asking whether he had arrived home safely.
There was no reply to either.
She stared at the small grey timestamp beneath her last message before locking the screen.
It wasn't unusual for Xiaoke to be busy. His schedule had become increasingly unpredictable over the past two years. Recording sessions could run late, promotional appearances were frequently added at the last minute, and his management company had recently begun discussing plans for his next album.
He was a singer. His career depended on maintaining momentum.
She understood that better than most people.
There had been a time when she could tell him, without hesitation, which of his songs suited his voice, which lyrics lacked sincerity and which performance arrangements would make him stand out. She had accompanied him to small performances when he was still an unknown singer, sitting in the back of nearly empty venues and clapping louder than anyone else.
When he received his first proper contract, she had celebrated with him until midnight.
When his first single failed to gain attention, she had told him that one disappointing release meant nothing.
When his second song finally attracted a modest audience, she had stayed awake reading comments beneath every available performance video.
She had watched his career grow from those small beginnings into something substantial.
She had also watched her own career become smaller.
The thought came so quietly that she almost missed it.
Xieren frowned.
Then she reached for her phone again, intending to distract herself.
The official Weibo account of A Week in the Fields had published a promotional post earlier that evening.
The thumbnail showed six celebrities standing in front of a traditional courtyard house. Behind them were green hills, a narrow stone path and a row of vegetable plots that had been cultivated by the villagers.
The programme's title appeared across the top in cheerful yellow lettering.
田园一周.
A Week in the Fields.
Xieren looked at the photograph for a moment.
She was standing on the far right, wearing a pale blue shirt and a pair of loose trousers. Her hair had been tied into a low ponytail, with a few strands escaping around her face.
She remembered that afternoon.
The weather had been hot, and the production crew had asked everyone to stand beneath the shade of a large tree while the photographer adjusted the lighting. Xiaoke had been complaining about the heat. Bingyi had offered him a bottle of water, and he had taken it without looking away from the director.
Xieren had stood beside them, waiting for the photographer to finish.
It had been an ordinary moment.
She had not thought about it again.
Now, beneath the promotional photograph, the comments were moving quickly.
The first few were harmless.
The scenery is beautiful!
When is the next episode coming out?
I love the atmosphere of this programme. It feels so peaceful.
Xieren smiled faintly.
The show had performed better than she expected. When she had first received the invitation, she had been surprised that the production team wanted her at all. She was hardly a household name, and her recent acting credits were limited to a few supporting roles and a historical drama that had attracted little attention.
She had accepted because the fee was useful and because she hoped appearing on a variety programme might remind people that she still existed.
She had not expected the filming to be particularly enjoyable.
Instead, she had found herself appreciating the slower pace of life in Shili Village. The villagers were straightforward, the production team was professional, and the other cast members were more tolerable than she had anticipated.
There had been disagreements, naturally. Seven celebrities sharing a working space for several days could hardly be expected to agree on everything.
But there had also been laughter, good food and the satisfaction of helping the villagers prepare a weekend market that had attracted more visitors than expected.
She had thought the programme was doing well.
Then she saw the next comment.
Can someone explain why Ma Xieren is always standing next to Ji Xiaoke and Yan Bingyi?
Xieren's thumb stopped.
She read it again.
Perhaps the commenter was referring to the photograph. She looked at the thumbnail, then at the comment.
It wasn't particularly offensive.
She almost scrolled past it.
The next reply caught her attention.
Because she thinks she's part of their relationship.
A third person responded almost immediately.
Exactly. The other two have chemistry. She just makes everything awkward.
Xieren's expression changed.
She sat a little straighter, the plastic container forgotten in her lap.
What?
She opened the comments.
There were hundreds.
Some people praised Xiaoke and Bingyi for how naturally they interacted. Others discussed their shared jokes, their apparent familiarity and the way they seemed to understand each other without needing to speak.
A few had already begun referring to them as a pair.
Ji Xiaoke and Yan Bingyi are so cute together.
Their chemistry is unreal.
Please tell me I'm not the only one who noticed the way he looks at her.
They have known each other for ages, right? No wonder they get along so well.
Xieren's eyebrows drew together.
She knew Xiaoke and Bingyi got along.
Of course they did.
Bingyi had known him for years. She had been part of Xieren's life since childhood, long before any of them had become involved in the entertainment industry.
The three of them had spent countless evenings together. They had eaten at the same restaurants, attended one another's celebrations and shared stories about their school days.
It was natural that they would be comfortable around each other.
There was nothing strange about that.
Xieren scrolled further.
Am I the only one who thinks Ma Xieren looks completely out of place?
She barely contributes anything. Why was she even invited?
I don't know her, but she has such an unpleasant face.
The other two are entertaining. Every time she joins them, the atmosphere changes.
Xieren stopped breathing for a moment.
It was a strange sensation, reading words written by people who had never spoken to her.
She knew that public figures received criticism. She had been an actress long enough to understand that people could be unkind, particularly when they were speaking from behind anonymous accounts.
She had seen actors criticised for their weight, their facial features, their clothing and even the way they smiled.
She had never imagined that she would be particularly affected by it.
After all, she wasn't famous enough for anyone to care about her.
That was what she had told herself for years.
Yet here she was, reading comments from strangers who appeared to have developed a firm opinion of her after watching a few episodes of a programme.
She scrolled back to the original post.
The photograph had not changed.
Xiaoke stood in the centre, smiling with one arm resting loosely around Bingyi's shoulders. Bingyi was laughing at something outside the frame. Xieren stood several steps away, her hands folded in front of her.
Looking at it now, she felt oddly detached from the woman in the photograph.
She remembered the photographer asking them to move closer together.
She remembered Xiaoke turning towards Bingyi because she had said something funny.
She remembered smiling when the photograph was taken.
She had not felt excluded.
At least, she did not think she had.
Her phone vibrated.
Xieren glanced down.
For one ridiculous second, she thought it might be Xiaoke replying to her messages.
It was a notification from a fan account.
Someone had posted a short video of Xiaoke and Bingyi from the second episode.
The caption read:
I need someone to explain these two to me. They're giving married couple.
Xieren stared at it.
Then she tapped the video.
The clip lasted thirty-seven seconds.
It showed the cast preparing breakfast in the village kitchen. Bingyi was standing beside the stove, trying to turn a pancake without breaking it. Xiaoke stood behind her, laughing.
"You're going to burn it," he told her.
"I know how to cook!"
"You said that yesterday."
"Yesterday's circumstances were different."
"What circumstances?"
"The pan was different."
He laughed.
Bingyi turned towards him with an offended expression, and he reached past her to lower the heat.
"Move over. You're going to ruin breakfast."
"Then make it yourself."
"That's what I'm doing."
They continued arguing, their voices overlapping.
It was an ordinary exchange.
It was also the kind of exchange Xieren had seen hundreds of times between them.
She had been present for some of those conversations. On other occasions, Xiaoke had recounted them to her later, laughing as he described whatever ridiculous thing Bingyi had done.
She had always found it amusing.
Now, as she watched the clip again, she noticed something she had not paid attention to before.
Xiaoke had not looked at anyone else.
Not once.
When Bingyi complained, he smiled at her. When she moved away from the stove, he followed her with his eyes. When she finally managed to flip the pancake, he raised his hand and gave her a small, approving tap on the shoulder.
The video ended with Bingyi holding up the pancake triumphantly.
Xiaoke clapped.
Someone behind the camera laughed.
The clip stopped.
Xieren stared at the frozen screen.
A ridiculous thought crossed her mind.
Perhaps I was simply not paying attention.
She shook her head.
There was no reason to read so much into a thirty-seven-second video. The programme had been edited to show entertaining moments. The production team had selected a scene in which two people were joking around, and viewers had decided they liked it.
That was all.
She locked her phone and placed it on the floor beside her.
For several seconds, she remained completely still.
Then she picked it up again.
This time, she opened the official account of A Week in the Fields and found the first episode.
If people were misunderstanding their relationship, perhaps she needed to understand what they were seeing.
She knew what had happened during filming. She had been there. She could distinguish an innocent friendship from something else.
The programme had six episodes available.
Each was approximately an hour long.
She would watch them, see what the editors had chosen to include, and put the matter to rest.
After that, she would finish eating, unpack her suitcase and go to bed.
It was a perfectly reasonable plan.
At least, it seemed reasonable at 11:58 p.m.
The first episode began with the cast arriving in Shili Village.
The opening shots were beautiful. Morning mist drifted over the hills, sunlight fell across the tiled roofs, and the narrow village road wound between old houses and vegetable plots.
The programme introduced each cast member through a short sequence.
Lu Qiaoqiao arrived first, wearing a straw hat and carrying a large suitcase. She complained cheerfully about the road, then immediately began interviewing the camera operator about the production schedule.
He Ziming appeared next, looking as though he had been persuaded to participate against his better judgment. He surveyed the courtyard, announced that he was too old to sleep on a wooden bed, and then proceeded to choose the smallest bedroom in the house.
Tang Ruoxi arrived with a bright smile and a practical assessment of the accommodation.
"If the shower has hot water, I can survive anything," she declared.
Chen Yuchen, who arrived carrying two bags, announced that he was prepared to work harder than everyone else.
Auntie Zhou, who had been waiting at the entrance, looked at his bags.
"Good. You can carry the vegetables tomorrow."
The production crew laughed.
Xieren smiled despite herself.
She remembered that moment. Chen Yuchen had looked genuinely alarmed, and Auntie Zhou had walked away before he could ask whether she was joking.
The programme was entertaining.
It also reminded Xieren that she had enjoyed herself more than she had expected during filming.
When the camera finally showed her arrival, she watched carefully.
She was wearing a cream-coloured blouse and carrying a canvas bag. She greeted the villagers politely, thanked the production assistant who had helped her with her luggage and asked where she should put her belongings.
Nothing unusual.
She looked tired, but she had been tired that day. They had left Jian Xu City early in the morning, and she had slept poorly the previous night.
She did not think she looked particularly bad.
Then Xiaoke appeared.
His expression brightened when he saw Bingyi, who had arrived a few minutes earlier.
"You're finally here," he said.
Bingyi laughed. "You sound like I've been gone for a month."
"It's been twenty minutes."
"Exactly. Very tragic."
He took the smaller of her bags before she could protest.
Xieren watched the scene.
She remembered that, too.
Bingyi had been struggling with her luggage at the entrance. Xiaoke had offered to help, and she had handed him the bag without hesitation.
Xieren had been standing nearby, speaking to one of the assistants.
She had not thought anything of it.
Why would she?
They were friends.
The programme moved on to the cast's first meeting with the village representatives. They discussed the rules of the show, their accommodation and the work they would be expected to do during their stay.
The episode was full of small, amusing moments.
Lu Qiaoqiao negotiated for a better breakfast.
He Ziming discovered that the kitchen had no coffee machine and looked personally betrayed.
Tang Ruoxi attempted to organise the storage room, only to realise that nobody knew where anything belonged.
Xieren helped Auntie Zhou sort a delivery of vegetables and spent several minutes discussing the differences between the village's produce and what she usually bought in the city.
It was a pleasant scene.
She had forgotten how long they had spent sorting those vegetables.
The production team had been filming from several angles, and she had assumed most of the footage would be cut.
Instead, the programme included a conversation between her and Auntie Zhou about the difficulty of selling fresh produce when visitors were unfamiliar with the village.
Auntie Zhou had explained that some villagers had started selling their products online, but the work required time and reliable delivery arrangements.
Xieren had asked questions and listened.
She remembered that conversation because Auntie Zhou had been surprisingly frank about the limitations of rural tourism. Visitors might come once for the scenery, she had said, but that did not mean they would return or buy anything.
The programme had not made the conversation particularly dramatic.
It had simply shown it.
Xieren leaned back against the sofa.
Perhaps the audience was seeing a different side of her from the one she had imagined.
She had spent most of the filming thinking about what needed to be done. She had not paid much attention to whether she appeared entertaining.
She had assumed that doing the work properly would be enough.
Still, the comments had not been entirely positive.
She opened the discussion thread again during the first commercial break.
A new comment had appeared.
She looks so awkward around Xiaoke. Does she even know him?
Xieren's fingers tightened around the phone.
She almost replied.
Instead, she closed the app.
She would finish watching the episode first.
By the end of the first hour, Xieren had found nothing that justified the comments.
She had been quiet in several scenes, but she was not the only one. He Ziming had spent a considerable portion of the episode complaining about the beds, and Chen Yuchen had been so concerned with proving himself that he had nearly forgotten to listen to the village representative.
Bingyi had appeared frequently.
So had Xiaoke.
That was to be expected. Both had larger fan bases than Xieren, and the programme had a commercial interest in giving recognisable performers sufficient screen time.
The editors had not created anything that had not happened.
They had simply selected the moments they considered worth showing.
Xieren knew how editing worked. She had appeared in enough productions to understand that a filmed conversation could last twenty minutes and appear on screen for less than two.
She also knew that audiences did not watch programmes with the same attention as the people who participated in them.
Viewers noticed expressions, gestures and little interactions that the participants themselves barely registered.
She could accept that.
She did not have to agree with every opinion.
She picked up the container of noodles, discovered that they had gone unpleasantly cold, and took another bite anyway.
The second episode began with the cast preparing breakfast.
Xieren watched the scene again.
There was the pancake.
There was Xiaoke standing behind Bingyi.
There was the same laughter.
She pressed her lips together.
It was only a few minutes of footage. She did not understand why the scene had attracted so much attention.
Perhaps it was because the two of them had a long history of friendship. Perhaps viewers enjoyed seeing people who were comfortable together.
She knew Xiaoke could be playful when he was relaxed. When they were alone, he sometimes teased her until she became annoyed, then smiled and apologised before she could remain angry.
He had once spent an entire afternoon trying to convince her that a stray cat outside their apartment preferred him.
The cat had scratched him.
Xieren had laughed so hard that she had nearly dropped her phone.
She could still remember the look of wounded dignity on his face.
He had glared at her and declared that she was a terrible girlfriend.
Then he had bought her dinner.
She smiled at the memory.
For a moment, the comments seemed absurd.
She had known Xiaoke for eight years. She knew the way he laughed, the expressions he made when he was irritated and the ridiculous things he said when he wanted attention.
A few strangers watching a television programme could not know him better than she did.
She repeated the thought to herself.
Then the programme moved to a scene filmed later that morning.
The cast had been divided into teams to prepare food using ingredients provided by the villagers. Xieren was assigned to work with He Ziming and Tang Ruoxi, while Xiaoke and Bingyi worked with Chen Yuchen and Lu Qiaoqiao.
The arrangement had been decided by the production team.
Xieren remembered that she had not minded. She got along well enough with He Ziming, and Tang Ruoxi was easy to work with when she was not trying to make everything into a competition.
The scene showed Xieren washing vegetables while He Ziming argued with the stove.
"Why is it smoking?" he demanded.
"Because you're burning the food," Tang Ruoxi replied.
"I'm not burning anything."
"Then perhaps the stove is expressing itself."
Xieren laughed.
It was a genuine laugh, one that surprised her even as she watched it.
She had not realised the camera had captured it.
For a few seconds, she forgot about the comments.
Then the programme cut to the other team.
Xiaoke was standing beside Bingyi, showing her how to cut a vegetable. She made a mistake, and he took the knife from her hand with exaggerated solemnity.
"You are no longer allowed near sharp objects."
Bingyi protested.
He ignored her.
They argued until Lu Qiaoqiao told them to stop flirting with disaster and finish preparing lunch.
The scene lasted less than a minute.
Xieren felt a small, inexplicable discomfort.
She paused the video.
The room seemed quieter than before.
She studied Xiaoke's face on the screen. His smile was familiar. She had seen it countless times, and yet she was looking at it as though it belonged to someone she had never met.
She disliked the feeling.
It was unfair to him, she thought.
He had done nothing wrong.
He was simply getting along with an old friend.
Xieren pressed play.
The programme continued.
At 2:16 a.m., Xieren finished the second episode.
She had intended to stop after the first.
She told herself she would watch the second because she wanted to see whether the programme continued emphasising Xiaoke and Bingyi's interactions.
She told herself she would stop after the second because she had already spent too much time on something that did not matter.
Then she opened the third episode.
The next hour passed slowly.
Not because the programme was boring, but because she had begun to notice things she had never thought to examine.
When the cast returned from an activity outside the village, Xiaoke handed Bingyi a bottle of water before she asked for one.
When the group sat together for dinner, he moved a dish towards her because he knew she wanted to try it.
When Bingyi complained that the room was too cold, he immediately suggested that she borrow an extra blanket.
None of these gestures was remarkable.
That was the problem.
They were small, ordinary things.
The sort of things people did for someone they knew well.
Xieren watched Xiaoke lean towards Bingyi to hear something she whispered. He laughed, covering his mouth with one hand, while she swatted his arm.
The camera cut to Lu Qiaoqiao, who gave them a knowing look.
"Are you two going to let the rest of us eat in peace?" she asked.
Bingyi immediately protested that she had done nothing.
Xiaoke simply laughed.
The scene ended.
Xieren paused the video.
She looked at the time.
2:41 a.m.
Her noodles had long since been abandoned. The container sat on the coffee table, the sauce congealing around the remaining strands.
She should go to bed.
She had an appointment the following afternoon, and if she stayed awake much longer, she would be exhausted.
But she could not stop thinking about the scene.
It was not that Xiaoke had been particularly affectionate towards Bingyi. There had been no kiss, no confession and no unmistakable declaration of anything.
If someone had shown her the clip six months ago, she would probably have laughed.
She might even have teased Xiaoke about it.
You're awfully attentive to Bingyi these days.
He would have rolled his eyes and told her not to be ridiculous.
She could imagine his voice so clearly that, for a moment, she almost reached for her phone to send him the clip.
The thought made her hand stop.
What was she doing?
She was sitting alone in the middle of the night, searching for evidence of a problem that might not exist.
She had allowed strangers on the internet to make her suspicious of her own boyfriend.
The realisation embarrassed her.
Xieren closed the video.
She opened their chat.
Her messages were still unanswered.
She stared at them.
Then, slowly, she scrolled upwards.
The conversation was filled with ordinary things. Photographs of meals. Reminders about appointments. Messages asking whether he had arrived somewhere safely. His occasional complaints about work. Her replies encouraging him to rest, eat properly and take care of himself.
There were jokes, too.
Old photographs.
Voice messages.
Promises to meet when their schedules allowed.
She stopped at a photograph he had sent her almost two years earlier. It showed him sitting in a recording studio, wearing headphones and making a ridiculous face at the camera.
Beneath it, he had written:
Look how handsome your boyfriend is. You should be grateful.
She had replied:
I'm calling the police.
He had sent three laughing emojis.
Xieren smiled despite herself.
She remembered the day he took that photograph. He had been nervous about the recording, and she had stayed awake until he finished because he wanted someone to listen to the first version of the song.
She had listened to it four times.
She had told him which part she liked best.
He had asked her to listen again.
They had been happy that night.
Or she had thought they were.
Her smile faded.
It was possible for a person to have loved someone and still become someone else.
It was possible for a relationship to change without either person noticing exactly when it happened.
It was possible that the comments were wrong.
She wanted them to be wrong.
Xieren locked her phone and placed it face down on the table.
Then she turned off the television.
The apartment fell silent.
She gathered the empty container, threw it into the rubbish bin and carried her water bottle to the kitchen. She rinsed it, filled it with fresh water and returned to the living room.
She did not look at her phone again.
Not immediately.
Instead, she stood beside the window and looked down at the street.
Jian Xu City was still awake. Cars moved through the intersection, their headlights reflecting off the pavement. A delivery rider stopped outside the convenience store downstairs. Somewhere in the distance, a siren sounded and faded.
The city did not care whether Ma Xieren's boyfriend loved her.
It did not care whether strangers thought she was unattractive, awkward or unnecessary.
Tomorrow morning, the convenience store would open. People would go to work. Production crews would prepare for their next filming day. Casting assistants would continue searching for actors who could fill the roles their directors needed.
The world would continue moving.
Xieren rested her forehead against the cool glass.
She had spent so long thinking about Xiaoke's future that she had almost forgotten to ask what she wanted her own future to look like.
The thought frightened her more than she expected.
Because she did not know.
She had once known.
At seventeen, she had imagined herself standing on a stage accepting an award for a performance she had worked years to perfect. She had imagined the lights, the applause and the feeling of having finally become the actress she had promised Shen Yulan she would be.
At twenty, she had still believed it was possible.
At twenty-two, she had begun telling herself that success could wait.
At twenty-four, she had become very good at explaining why it was reasonable to wait a little longer.
Xiaoke needed her.
Xiaoke was busy.
Xiaoke was under pressure.
Xiaoke would have more time once his album was released.
Xiaoke would understand her sacrifices eventually.
She had repeated those explanations so many times that they had begun to sound like facts.
Xieren closed her eyes.
Perhaps she was being unfair to him.
Perhaps she was being unfair to herself.
She did not know which possibility hurt more.
At 3:08 a.m., Xieren returned to the sofa.
She had decided to stop watching.
She had also decided not to read any more comments.
Both decisions lasted approximately four minutes.
A notification appeared on her screen.
Someone had uploaded another short clip from the programme, this time showing the cast gathered in the courtyard after dinner.
Xieren hesitated.
Then she opened it.
The video began with Xiaoke sitting on a wooden bench. Bingyi stood beside him, looking through a collection of photographs taken during filming.
She showed him one.
He leaned closer.
They began laughing.
Xieren watched the clip twice.
Then she noticed something else.
At the beginning of the video, she was sitting at the other end of the bench, speaking to Tang Ruoxi. She had been there the entire time.
She remembered the conversation. Tang had been asking her about a skincare product she used, and Xieren had been explaining that she had stopped using it because it irritated her skin.
It had been an ordinary conversation between two women.
In the clip, the camera remained focused on Xiaoke and Bingyi.
Xieren was visible only at the edge of the frame.
The comments were full of hearts.
They look so natural together.
I love how comfortable they are with each other.
He looks at her like she's the only person in the room.
Xieren's chest tightened.
She wanted to dismiss the comments as nonsense.
She wanted to tell herself that the camera had simply chosen an entertaining moment, that the audience was projecting a romance onto a friendship, that the entire situation was a misunderstanding.
But the words had begun to settle somewhere inside her.
She looked at the photograph again.
Xiaoke was laughing.
Bingyi was smiling at him.
And Xieren was sitting only a short distance away, talking to someone else.
She had not noticed the moment when the camera turned towards them.
She had not noticed that they were laughing together.
She had not noticed that she was absent from a moment that strangers had decided was important.
Why did that matter?
She didn't know.
She pressed the phone against her chest and leaned back against the sofa.
Her eyes stung.
She was tired. That was all.
She had been working too much, sleeping too little and allowing other people's opinions to influence her.
She would sleep, wake up tomorrow and realise how ridiculous she had been.
She would speak to Xiaoke.
She would ask him about the filming, perhaps tease him about the comments and listen to him laugh as he reassured her that people online were always making things up.
Then she would put the entire matter behind her.
It was a simple plan.
A sensible plan.
One that did not require her to confront anything she was not ready to face.
Xieren reached for her phone and opened Xiaoke's contact.
Her thumb hovered over the call button.
She wanted to hear his voice.
She wanted to ask him whether he was awake, whether he had eaten, whether he had been busy all evening.
She wanted to tell him that she had missed him.
Instead, she looked at the time.
3:17 a.m.
He was probably asleep.
He had an early schedule tomorrow.
She should not disturb him.
Xieren lowered the phone.
For a long time, she sat in the quiet apartment, listening to the refrigerator hum and the distant traffic outside.
Eventually, she carried her phone into the bedroom.
She placed it on the bedside table, plugged in the charger and lay down without changing out of her clothes.
The sheets were cool.
The pillow smelled faintly of laundry detergent.
She turned onto her side and pulled the blanket over herself.
Her mind continued working long after she closed her eyes.
She remembered Xiaoke at seventeen, sitting beside her on a park bench and telling her that he wanted to become a singer.
She remembered how seriously he had spoken, how frightened he had been that he might never succeed.
She remembered promising him that she would support him.
She remembered believing that they would grow together.
The memories came one after another, each carrying the warmth of a life she had once recognised as her own.
She did not want to lose them.
She did not want to look back at eight years of her life and discover that she had misunderstood everything.
But the comments would not leave her alone.
Neither would the little things she had seen.
The way Xiaoke looked at Bingyi.
The way Bingyi turned towards him without hesitation.
The ease between them.
The distance between Xieren and the two people she had considered closest to her.
She pulled the blanket higher.
"No," she whispered into the darkness.
She did not know what she was denying.
Perhaps she was denying the comments.
Perhaps she was denying the possibility that she had missed something obvious.
Perhaps she was simply asking the world to leave her alone for one more night.
Her phone lit up briefly as a new notification arrived.
Xieren did not see it.
She had finally fallen asleep.
On the screen, beneath the promotional photograph of A Week in the Fields, another comment appeared.
Honestly, I feel sorry for her. Imagine being the only person who doesn't realise she's the third wheel.
The number of likes beside it continued to rise.
And in the small apartment, Ma Xieren slept with her phone beside her pillow, unaware that by morning, she would begin looking at eight years of her life a little differently.
End of Chapter One