"Miss Zhou, do you have trouble sleeping?"
"Occasionally."
"Do you often wake up from nightmares?"
"Not really."
"Are you taking sleeping pills?"
"Just a small amount."
"Besides sleeping pills, are you on any other medication?"
Silence spread from Zhou Zizhi. Her fingers, resting on her knees, tightened suddenly and noticeably.
Tan Yin snapped her navy-blue notebook shut with a crisp sound. "Miss Zhou, since you're unwilling to cooperate, I believe there's no need for us to continue this conversation."
Yu Ze, seated on the sofa, noticed the door to the room open as Tan Yin walked out alone. His brows furrowed. "What happened?"
Tan Yin sat down beside him. "I suspect she's suffered severe psychological trauma."
"Suspect?" Yu Ze's gaze turned icy. "I don't want to hear vague assumptions from you."
Tan Yin's face twitched ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly. "There's a bottle of sleeping pills on the corner of her nightstand. Judging by the production date and the amount left, she's been using them frequently. I also noticed an empty bottle of emotional suppressants in her trash bin. I was waiting for her to confess, but she chose to hide it."
Yu Ze remained silent, his profile cold and unyielding.
Tan Yin didn't press further. Instead, she glanced around the living room, noting the neatly arranged rug by the entrance, the spotless coffee table, sofa, chairs, and the minimalist artwork on the walls. The space was meticulously clean and tasteful—so clean it hinted at a touch of obsessive compulsion.
Yu Ze stood up from the sofa and knocked on the door to Zhou Zizhi's room. Tan Yin, observing this, recalled her initial assumption that Zhou Zizhi was Yu Ze's girlfriend—after all, why else would he hire her? But meeting Zhou Zizhi had dispelled that notion; at least, for now.
Yu Ze pushed open the door and saw the slender figure standing by the window.
After a moment, he walked closer. The faint scent of lemon wafted through the air. In a low voice, he said, "Tan Yin can help you."
Zhou Zizhi didn't turn around. "Two years ago, I woke up in a hospital. It felt like I had just taken a nap, but the doctors told me four years had passed. I worked hard to follow their rehabilitation plans, to convince myself to adapt to the changes of those four years. I thought if I just tried my best, everything could continue as before. But I forgot—everything changes. People change."
Her lashes trembled, veiling the bitterness in her eyes. "I suffer from chronic insomnia, dread the night, and rely on medication to sleep."
Yu Ze's Adam's apple bobbed, his voice hoarse. "I know how to tell stories."
Zhou Zizhi was momentarily stunned, warmth flickering in her heart when she realized what he meant.
Yu Ze began softly, "Once upon a time, there was a little rabbit who loved to play in the forest. One day, just like any other, the rabbit played until dusk. On her way home, she came across a big, injured wolf..."
"The little rabbit helped the wolf. From then on, the wolf carried her through the forest every day, and they became the best of friends."
The story was short and simple, but it touched Zhou Zizhi deeply. She turned around, gratitude glimmering in her gaze. "Thank you."
Yu Ze's lips curved slightly. "I'll call Tan Yin back in."
Zhou Zizhi nodded.
When Tan Yin re-entered the room, her eternally neutral expression remained unchanged. She clasped her hands together. "Care to tell me about the car accident six years ago?"
Zhou Zizhi closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, her gaze was calm.
"That day was a Saturday—his birthday..."
She recalled filming Autumn Days at the time, her schedule packed. She had argued with Zheng Jie over canceled shoots. He Yueming was working as an extra in another production. They had planned to avoid the paparazzi by traveling separately to a foreign country where few people recognized them, making it easier to move freely.
It was supposed to be a short trip—a day and a night—to celebrate his birthday and do some sightseeing.
What Zhou Zizhi didn't anticipate was that this trip would lead them through hell.
The next day, on his birthday, they had coffee at a cozy café and planned to visit a nearby mall.
Zhou Zizhi's voice grew faint. "We were standing at a crosswalk, talking, when a car suddenly sped toward us..."
Her body began to tremble, her hands clenching so tightly her knuckles turned white, as though they might pierce through her skin.
Tan Yin's voice was gentle and soothing as she placed her hand over Zhou Zizhi's shaking ones. "Relax. There's no car here. You're in your room. You're safe."
Zhou Zizhi was drenched in sweat, her chest heaving. She seemed utterly wrecked.
"I always dream about that moment, as if I were an onlooker," she murmured. "I see myself being hit by the car, crashing into a street sign, and falling to the ground. Blood gushes from my body, staining my white dress red. People scream, car horns blare, and he... he just stands there, frozen, before rushing over to hold me, shouting in panic."
Tan Yin frowned. Zhou Zizhi's condition was more severe than she had anticipated. "What happened next? What else did you see?"
Zhou Zizhi suddenly closed her eyes. "Nothing. That scene just repeats, over and over."
Quickly, Tan Yin pieced together the image of the man Zhou Zizhi consistently referred to as "him." She fixed her gaze on Zhou Zizhi. "After you risked your life, he moved on, betrayed your love, and found someone new."
Zhou Zizhi flinched instinctively.
Tan Yin sighed softly. "What a shame." It was unclear whether she referred to the man or Zhou Zizhi.
The deeper the care, the greater the pain. Hatred lingers because it cannot be forgotten—it must be faced.
Zhou Zizhi needed to overcome the shadow left by the accident, to truly let go of that love and emerge from the gray zone. No one else could do it for her.
"Honestly, I've worked with many patients like you, but you're the only one I'm helping pro bono." Tan Yin tried to lighten the mood in her usual deadpan manner. "I even paid for my own flight."
Though her expression didn't lend itself to humor, the effect was minimal.
"I don't recommend heavy use of sleeping pills—it's not good for you."
"Try listening to some soft music, getting a pet, reading books, or spending more time with family."
"Oh, right—you're an actress," Tan Yin remarked. "The least free profession out there."
She continued, "Actors wear more faces than anyone else. Many people confuse their on-screen and off-screen personas, getting lost in the characters they play. But..."
"I don't think a CEO of a multinational company would make such a rookie mistake."
Zhou Zizhi raised her eyes, still slightly damp but now clear. "So, you're his messenger?"
"Depends on how you interpret it."
Tan Yin's almond-shaped eyes flickered with subtle amusement. Many women coveted Yu Ze, but Zhou Zizhi was the only one he genuinely valued.
"Let's hope the next time we meet, it'll be at your wedding to Yu Ze," she said, leaving Zhou Zizhi no chance to refute her closing statement as she walked out.
Yu Ze, cigarette in hand, watched her through the rising smoke.
"Typically, someone who has been deeply hurt and traumatized will develop amplified fears, resisting, avoiding, or even fearing others' approach."
"Spend more time with her, do relaxing things, and show her beauty in life," Tan Yin advised. "Give her time."
Yu Ze exhaled a smoke ring. "Did she cry?"
Tan Yin put her notebook back in her bag. "I don't think she's the type to cry in front of others."
"Do you want to know how much space you occupy in her mind?"
Yu Ze flicked off the ash. "I don't need anyone to tell me that. I'll figure it out myself."
"Good luck," Tan Yin said, heading for the door. Zhou Zizhi emerged from her room to see her out, showing no visible signs of distress.
Tan Yin thought Zhou Zizhi was remarkably good at hiding her emotions. She suddenly wanted to revisit the actress's work. Before getting into her car, Tan Yin leaned close to Zhou Zizhi and whispered a few words.
Yu Ze asked, "What did Tan Yin say to you?"
"She said she likes you," Zhou Zizhi replied.
Yu Ze raised an eyebrow. "A lot of people like me."
Zhou Zizhi's mouth twitched. While it was true, hearing it from him still sounded... arrogant.
"She's married. I'll take you to meet her husband sometime," Yu Ze offered. "He's... unique."
Zhou Zizhi looked at him curiously.
"I'm explaining," Yu Ze said, his gaze intense.
"I wasn't overthinking it," Zhou Zizhi replied.
Yu Ze looked disappointed. Sometimes, I wish you'd overthink things.
On Christmas Day, Crossroads premiered, and Zhou Zizhi went to see it alone.
Watching a movie was a relaxing activity, best enjoyed with close, like-minded friends who could share in the laughter and tears without reservation.
But when Zhou Zizhi's friend Qiao Nan couldn't make it due to her baby's cold, she ended up going alone.
The seat beside her sank unexpectedly. Zhou Zizhi turned her head and froze momentarily when she saw who it was.
Through the flickering light, their eyes met briefly. Neither spoke, each turning back to the screen.
As the movie ended, some left satisfied, others disappointed, and still others barely paying attention to the plot as they left happily with their partners.
When the theater emptied, Yu Ze pulled a candy shaped like a little rabbit from his coat pocket and handed it to Zhou Zizhi.
She unwrapped the candy, letting its sweetness spread across her tongue and into her heart.
"We could try," she said.
Yu Ze paused, then smiled. "Okay."