On the day the snow fell, Jiang Qing finally fell seriously ill.
Every inch of her body ached with weakness. Even moving took half her strength, and walking took even more. She struggled to get up and pour herself a glass of water. As she swallowed, the pain pulled at her insides, as if she'd swallowed a knife that traveled from her lips and tongue straight to her heart.
She slept for a whole day, and dreamed of Zhou Xian.
What they did and what they said, she couldn't remember. Perhaps they had done nothing and said nothing at all.
Zhou Xian and her, her and Zhou Xian: strangers had nothing to say to each other.
If none of this had been disrupted, she could still have lived a peaceful life. Perhaps many years later, if someone brought up her poor and colorless youth, she could have admitted her secret.
She had once been jealous of a girl. Yes, Jiang Qing's heart could also give rise to the darkness of hatred. She had made that girl her enemy, privately playing out a one-woman show as she chased her, competed with her, and refused to back down...
Was that the defining theme of youth? Not bright happiness, but dark observation.
She had thought so. She had thought the name of that deeply buried secret was hatred.
Until Zhou Xian opened Pandora's box, forcing Jiang Qing to see her own heart clearly.
Then all those strange behaviors took on another explanation. Her racing heartbeat, her breath catching, her fixed gaze, her averted eyes: they all became a cruel truth.
She learned the answer and was left with tears.
Why did she have to fall for a girl?
Why did she have to fall for someone else's girl?
Theme: The first and the last day
