After swaying on the bus for about 40 minutes, I got off. Glancing at my watch, it was only 3:20 PM, and I had plenty of time. So, I decided to walk for another 20 minutes, eventually arriving at Forgetting Sorrows.

　　This was a medium-sized tea house, with an antique and elegant decor that set it apart from the noisy commercial district. The moment I stepped inside, I could feel the quiet charm of the place.

　　“Miss Zhou, you're here!” The front desk manager, Tang, greeted me warmly, her eyes sparkling and her smile as bright as spring sunshine. “It’s been two months since we last saw each other, and you're getting more and more beautiful.”

　　Her words were flattering, but not entirely true. I hadn’t checked my reflection in a while, but I knew I’d been sweating on the bus. My makeup must have been long smudged.

　　“My dear, I’m getting old now. You’re the one who’s truly beautiful. Is she still in the same room?” I asked with a smile.

　　Considering my financial situation, I wouldn’t usually be a regular here, but as a friend of the boss, Tang wouldn’t dare to offend me.

　　“Of course, the boss is already here. Shall I take you to her?”

　　“No need,” I replied, “I’ll go to the bathroom first. You can take care of the other guests.”

　　“Alright, I won’t disturb you!” She smiled and waved me off.

　　I laid out my makeup remover, foundation, powder, eyeshadow, eyelash curler, mascara, eyebrow pencil, razor, and lipstick on the counter. Then I wiped my face and touched up my makeup.

　　I did what I could to look my best. After all, a little self-care doesn’t require much money—it's more of a way of life. As long as I can still walk, I’ll keep putting on blush, eyeshadow, and lipstick, no matter how old I get.

　　I walked up to a small private room on the second floor without hesitation, knocked on the door, and entered.

　　Inside, Qian Mi, two years younger than me, sat gracefully. Her fair skin and delicate features shone even more in her black Chanel outfit, which accentuated her figure perfectly.

　　Qian Mi was a highly sought-after A-list celebrity in China, with impressive achievements in television dramas, variety shows, and advertisements. However, as of late, her roles had become increasingly formulaic.

　　Most of the shows she starred in were about young people who don’t know how to love, teaching others how to love—or people who don’t know how to be happy, teaching others how to be happy. To be honest, I had no interest in these types of dramas about love games and intrigue. So, I hadn’t watched much of them.

　　I was amazed that I could still call her a friend. In fact, I was amazed by anyone who would be friends with me, considering how rarely I make the first move to contact others. Whether it’s Qian Mi or anyone else, they all matter equally to me.

　　Everyone is the center of their own world, and I don’t like disturbing others. But if they walk into my world on their own, I’ll welcome them as excitedly as I would welcome myself.

　　“Xiaowei!” As soon as she saw me, Qian Mi tossed the fashion magazine she had been reading onto the table and warmly greeted me.

　　My name is Wei Zhou, given to me by my grandfather. It’s unique, and easy to remember. I remember asking him when I was in junior high why he named me Wei. Isn’t it strange for a girl to be called “Wei”? It would have sounded better if I were named “Yi Zhou”!

　　At the time, he looked at me seriously and said, “‘Wei’ means small, it’s the smallest. The most important thing for a person is to learn humility.” He then quoted Laozi: “When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be.” Even though the Dao brings about accomplishments for all things, it doesn’t boast. Even with great achievements, one doesn’t take credit or become arrogant.”

　　He said, “I gave you this name to teach you the humility of the Dao—to never be proud or arrogant.”

　　I’ve never been a good student and don’t usually take advice from others, but somehow, his words have always stayed with me.

　　“Hey, superstar! Long time no see!” I teased, making a heart gesture at Qian Mi.

　　We hugged excitedly, and she said, “Do you know why I always want to hug you?”

　　I smirked, “Could it be because you’ve always been single?”

　　Qian Mi froze for a moment, then burst into laughter, nearly doubling over. “Wei, you’ve really changed! I can’t believe I’m hearing a joke from you. This is definitely the biggest news of my year!”

　　I chuckled, “Is it really that exaggerated? I’ve always thought of myself as an interesting person. So tell me, do you have a secret crush on me?”

　　Qian Mi laughed again. “Are you kidding me? Let me tell you, you have this sweet scent, not like perfume, but more like... like a baby. Every time I hug you, I feel incredibly calm inside. All the troubles in the world just disappear in that moment.”

　　I sighed playfully. “Oh well.”

　　“What do you mean!” Qian Mi nudged me with her shoulder. “Sit down, let’s enjoy the food!”

　　I placed my purse on the chair and sat across from her. The table was piled with delicious food—roast goose, steamed tofu, sashimi, cheese, oysters, sushi, caviar, and a fruit platter—along with two bottles of red wine.

　　“What are you trying to do, giving up your figure? Your agent’s going to be mad at you!” I teased.

　　Qian Mi waved her hand dismissively. “I was born beautiful! A little drink won’t hurt. We haven’t seen each other for two months, and now that we have something to celebrate, let’s drink until we’re drunk tonight! Do you remember those two bottles of red wine? At the bar, we could only watch others drink. I thought I’d drink that kind of wine someday—drink whenever I want, as much as I want.”

　　“Now that you’ve got it, how does it feel?” I asked.

　　Qian Mi slightly furrowed her brows, a flicker of confusion crossing her face. As she opened the wine, she smiled. “Feels great! But don’t talk about that. Drink three cups with me first.”

　　I had no reason to dampen her mood, so I agreed. Even though each glass was only half full, it made me feel a bit dizzy and my heart raced. After all, I couldn’t remember the last time I drank alcohol, let alone something as expensive as this wine.

　　After savoring a few bites of the delicious food, I took out a folder from my bag and handed it to Qian Mi.

　　She took it, feeling its thickness. “Wow, not bad. This doesn’t look like just ten pages.”

　　I nodded. “It’s about sixty thousand words. I hope it lives up to your expectations.”

　　Qian Mi stood up and kissed me on the cheek. “Darling, you’re always my best friend. If I make it into the film industry this time, you’ll be my lucky star.”

　　I didn’t expect her to say that, so I hurriedly wiped my mouth and waved my hand. “Please don’t say that. You’ve helped me with so much over the years. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have money to eat! I should be the one thanking you.”

　　“I mean it sincerely,” she said. “If it weren’t for your help, I don’t know where I’d be now. I didn’t even go to college. If those screenwriters weren’t doing it for you, who would ever ask me to write scripts?”

　　I’ve written so many scripts over the years that I’ve lost count. I once told her that if she was too busy, she could have her assistant pick up the scripts, but she always smiled and refused. She said the scripts weren’t the most important thing—what mattered was that we could chat and drink together. I was touched and never brought it up again.

　　“What did you say?” Qian Mi asked with a playful pout.

　　“I’m just telling the truth. I’ve always suspected the so-called script requests were just fantasies, and it was your personal support. After all, it’s been so long and no screenwriters have come looking for me.”

　　Qian Mi’s expression shifted slightly. “You... you think I’m hiding your identity from the screenwriters? Why would I do that?”