ATLAS TRANSLATES

The curtain was tugged a couple times but wouldn’t open due to the hooks.

Chu Zhi was startled by the sudden sound and quickly pushed away the person in front of her.

Lu Jiaheng stepped back two paces, his expression full of displeasure at being interrupted.

Outside was noisy. If Chu Zhi remembered correctly, the street dance performance was scheduled for the middle segment. What was the next program?

A comedy skit? Or ethnic dance?

Chu Zhi nervously glanced at Lu Jiaheng, raising her finger to her lips in a shushing gesture, stammering: “S-sorry! This outfit is a bit hard to put on, try checking the ones next door!”

The girl outside called anxiously: “The other ones all have people too!”

“Then, then please wait a moment!”

She looked at the person in front of her, at a complete loss for what to do.

Chu Zhi quietly walked to the door, pressed her ear against the curtain to listen for a moment, then walked back and leaned against the wall again.

The temporary changing room was very small, already cramped for one person—with two people there was almost no room to move.

Moreover, he was such a big person.

Chu Zhi secretly glanced up at Lu Jiaheng.

He still looked unhurried, straightening up and tilting his head slightly as if waiting for her to speak.

They were in the last changing room, with someone changing clothes in the one on the right, and a wall at the end on the left side.

Chu Zhi beckoned to him.

Lu Jiaheng obediently leaned his head down.

She pressed against his ear and whispered: “What should we do?”

Lu Jiaheng matched her whispered tone: “Just walk out.”

Chu Zhi stared at him in panic.

She pointed at herself, then at him, with a look of helplessness: “We can’t just go out like this…”

Lu Jiaheng raised an eyebrow, looking somewhat amused: “Why not?”

He lowered his head, his gaze intense, voice dropping to a slightly rough, gentle tone: “What bad things were you doing?”

Chu Zhi’s face burned like it was on fire, leaving her speechless.

This wasn’t about whether they’d done anything or not.

Even so, they definitely couldn’t just walk out brazenly together like this.

Chu Zhi was terribly conflicted, biting her lip as she thought hard but couldn’t come up with a solution.

The girl outside seemed really urgent. After waiting a while with no response from inside, she asked again: “Excuse me, could I come in and change with you?”

Chu Zhi was horrified and quickly replied: “No!!”

She stood against the wall like an ant on a hot pan, her face full of anxious helplessness.

Lu Jiaheng adjusted his posture, watching her leisurely with an air of composed amusement.

After thinking for a moment, Chu Zhi moved closer, standing on her tiptoes as much as possible: “How about I think of a way to distract her attention, and you sneak out crawling? I can use my skirt to help cover you a bit.”

Chu Zhi pulled up her dress—her costume’s skirt was quite wide when lifted, and could indeed hide someone crawling behind it.

Lu Jiaheng: “…”

The leisurely expression vanished from Lu Jiaheng’s face as his mouth twitched: “Crawl out?”

Chu Zhi nodded very seriously.

Lu Jiaheng laughed in exasperation: “You want me to… crawl out like that?”

His laugh was dark, his gaze carrying such strong aggression and lethality that Chu Zhi meekly shrank her neck, saying in a small voice: “Well, there’s no other way…”

Lu Jiaheng took a deep breath: “Let’s just walk out.”

“No no no!”

Lu Jiaheng was getting impatient.

He frowned, showing a somewhat irritated expression.

Chu Zhi looked at him pitifully, the lipstick on her lower lip almost eaten away, a bit of saliva making it glisten.

Lu Jiaheng took a deep breath, his temple twitching as he compromised: “I’ll think of a way. We won’t be discovered, but you’ll have to make it up to me.”

At this point Chu Zhi didn’t care about anything else—as long as they weren’t discovered, anything would do, even though she could only think of having him crawl out.

She quickly nodded like a little chick pecking rice.

The little girl looked absolutely desperate, and Lu Jiaheng narrowed his eyes as he watched her reaction.

They both spoke in extremely quiet voices. Chu Zhi kept her neck craned back—thankfully she was wearing high heels, making her much taller than usual, so it wasn’t too tiring.

Lu Jiaheng also very cooperatively bent down, keeping one hand against the wall for balance as he leaned to her ear: “You just don’t want people to see you with me?”

Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes.

What would people think if they saw this?

Chu Zhi continued nodding frantically.

After nodding, she felt something wasn’t quite right.

She quickly stopped.

But it seemed too late.

Lu Jiaheng let out a low “hm.”

This sound was different from before—it had a kind of cold indifference, faint and emotionless.

That soft sound instantly made something in Chu Zhi’s mind pull taut.

Before she could react, Lu Jiaheng suddenly straightened up.

He didn’t speak again, just coldly curved his lips in a smile without even looking at her, turned directly and reached up, his long fingers hooking the curtain and pulling it aside as he walked out of the changing room with complete naturalness and unhurried pace.

The dark red curtain lifted for an instant as he left, then fell back, blocking the view again.

Chu Zhi stood alone, dazed in the changing room.

Outside, the footsteps of the girl who had been anxiously pacing back and forth also stopped.

After about ten seconds, Chu Zhi came to her senses.

The girl outside hesitated for a moment before carefully pulling the curtain open a bit, her face flushed as she uncertainly peeked inside.

She held a bundle of clothes, looking at Chu Zhi before quickly averting her eyes: “Um…”

Her look toward Chu Zhi was quite indescribable. Chu Zhi barely caught a glimpse, having no courage to interpret the meaning behind it.

She hurriedly lowered her head, softly muttered “sorry,” and rushed out.

The girl watched her back disappear into the crowd, suddenly understanding.

She recalled the expressionless man who had just left, feeling he looked somewhat familiar—she must have seen him somewhere before, but couldn’t quite remember where.

Then thinking of that girl’s fleeting face that seemed mortified to the extreme, she suddenly felt guilty, as if she had ruined something between them.

The next program was her turn. The girl quickly shook her head, not wanting to think about it anymore, and hurriedly closed the curtain to change.

Disgrace.

In all her life, Chu Zhi had never felt so disgraceful.

She practically fled in panic, rushing out of the changing room with her head deeply bowed, not daring to look around.

All around were chaotic voices of people talking and laughing, the backstage busy and noisy as she quickly slipped through the crowd with her head down.

She even felt that everyone around had seen what just happened, that everyone was secretly looking at her, discussing how she had hidden with a man in a small changing room in public, calling her shameless.

He had just left her like that, walking away alone.

Just left her there by herself, walking away on his own.

Bastard.

Bastard, hateful person, annoying pest.

Lu Jiaheng, that jerk.

Chu Zhi bit her lip hard, eyes wide, trying to suppress the sourness welling up in them.

Returning to the drama club’s preparation area, Yuan Ci had just gotten back too. Seeing her, he quickly walked over to call out to her.

Chu Zhi turned around, her eyes slightly red.

Yuan Ci had originally meant to tell her something, but seeing her expression he was startled and quickly asked: “What’s wrong?”

Chu Zhi lowered her head: “Nothing…”

Yuan Ci moved closer, looking down at her: “What really happened?”

Chu Zhi’s lips trembled, her eyes wet and glistening. She didn’t know why, but she just felt wronged.

So wronged.

She took a deep breath, shaking her head as she gently dabbed at the corner of her eye, carefully avoiding smudging her makeup. Her voice was soft and weak, a bit hoarse: “It’s nothing, I’m just worried… afraid I won’t perform well.”

Hearing this, Yuan Ci slightly furrowed his brow.

He clearly didn’t quite believe it.

But very quickly, his brow smoothed out again as he gave her a gentle smile, showing half a tiger tooth: “Don’t be scared, sister. I’m here with you.”

Chu Zhi was about to cry, her voice carrying a hint of tears as all her emotions finally found a reasonable excuse to be released: “I’ve only ever played a potted plant… what if I drag everyone down…”

Yuan Ci was flustered, speaking incoherently: “Potted plants are great, they’re so hard to play, ah, sister please don’t cry.”

For the next period of time, Chu Zhi remained sitting at the makeup table without moving.

The makeup artist who had done her makeup earlier came over to reapply the lipstick she had nearly eaten away, repeatedly urging her not to bite her lips anymore.

Chu Zhi obediently agreed, looked over the script spread before her for a while before her phone’s WeChat notification sounded.

It was Friday—after the afternoon’s anniversary performance would be vacation. It was a message from her father asking what time she would finish and if she needed a ride.

Chu Zhi replied to the message and exited the chat, just happening to see the name below.

Lu Jiaheng had sent her several WeChat messages over the past few days which she hadn’t replied to, only reading them and leaving them there.

Actually, Chu Zhi hadn’t even felt angry anymore.

She was the type whose emotions came and went quickly. Although she felt Lu Jiaheng’s previous behavior was a bit excessive and didn’t want to talk to him, several days had passed and he had called her many times and sent messages.

But that was before.

Chu Zhi looked at that name, forcefully puffed up her cheeks, opened his contact details, and started typing.

She put down her phone angrily and went back to reading the script.

After a few minutes, she picked up her phone again, unlocked it, opened WeChat, and added him to her blacklist.

Never wanting to deal with him again!

When Lu Jiaheng returned to the front, Cheng Yi was crunching away at potato chips.

The comedy skit had just left the stage, followed by ethnic dance. Cheng Yi tilted his head: “You came back just in time.”

Lu Jiaheng’s lips drooped downward. He didn’t speak, just slouched back into his seat, slightly lifting his eyes to watch the performance on stage.

On stage were over ten girls, graceful and agile as larks, dancing with the music, their flowing yellow dresses revealing slender waists and fair midriffs.

Cheng Yi commented objectively: “As expected of professionals—their figures are much more impressive than that street dance group earlier.”

Lu Jiaheng’s gaze was cold, expressionless.

Two more programs passed before the drama performance.

At first, Cheng Yi was still leisurely eating his chips, but gradually he felt the pressure from the person beside him getting lower and lower.

Until on stage, when the knight was leaving the inn, taking the innkeeper’s hand to his lips as he knelt on one knee, promising to marry her.

“Tch.”

Lu Jiaheng made a low sound.

He stared at the man in silver armor on stage, his gaze sharp and cold, filled with dark irritation and hostility.

So afraid of being seen with him.

Yet happy to get along with other men.

And in that empty classroom, the little girl’s clear sweet “Senior” when answering the phone.

Plus whatever unknown reason had made her angry that still wasn’t resolved.

Not only unresolved, but seemingly getting worse.

Lu Jiaheng felt a knot in his chest, extremely annoyed.

About fifteen minutes later, as the play ended and the cast took their bows, he took out his phone, opened their chat, and quickly typed with lowered eyes: So you like knights?

He stared at that line for a while, deleted it, and typed again: You hate being associated with me that much?

After typing this, he didn’t send it either.

After a moment of silence, Lu Jiaheng tilted his head back, looking at the dark ceiling of the auditorium as he closed his eyes, letting out a long, helpless sigh of surrender.

The knot in his chest felt like a popped balloon, bursting with a bang, shattering into many pieces that floated down.

He lowered his head again, deleted the message letter by letter, and typed once more:

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry, I was wrong.

A red exclamation mark instantly appeared in front of the green message bubble, accompanied by a line of black text below.

Message sent but rejected by recipient.

Lu Jiaheng: “…”