Chapter 2: The Substitute Leaves

In October, just after the Mid-Autumn Festival, the weather had begun to cool. It reminded him of that same season seven years ago—when he lost everything.

At the time, he had just turned eighteen. Before the college entrance exams, his Father and Mother passed away, and his younger Sister’s heart condition relapsed.

His Sister, Lin Xi, had a congenital heart defect. With proper care, she could have lived like an ordinary person into old age. But their parents’ sudden death dealt her a devastating blow, and her condition rapidly worsened. Surgery had to be done urgently.

Lin Che scraped together every cent he could find to afford the operation. But even after the surgery, she didn’t regain her health. In addition to long-term convalescence, she needed multiple surgeries—big and small—every year just to stay alive.

Money was never enough.

In order to treat his Sister’s illness, Lin Che not only spent all of their parents’ savings but also fell deep into debt. Because of this, he gave up on the college entrance exams and dropped out of school to work.

At the most difficult time, he juggled five or six part-time jobs a day, sleeping only four hours each night. One day, while delivering food, he ran into a director.

Lin Che didn’t have much to his name—except for his face. He was a handsome man with striking, well-defined features, the type that stood out without being greasy. He looked clean and composed. The director noticed him at a glance and recommended he audition for a supporting role in a short drama.

With nothing to lose, Lin Che decided to give it a shot. When the pay was tallied, even a supporting role earned more in a day than running deliveries all day long.

Thanks to his looks, the short drama made it to the trending searches after it aired—he was even more popular than the lead actor. Soon after, a company signed him on as an actor. At the time, he was in such desperate need of money that all he wanted was to get paid quickly so he could cover his Sister’s medical bills.

Signing the contract cleared his debts, but it also locked him into an unequal agreement.

As a newcomer without any connections, the company had him completely under its thumb. His agent pimped him out, the boss blatantly engaged in casting-couch practices, and they constantly threatened him with being shelved… Just when he had nowhere left to turn, Qin Wei appeared with two million yuan. Not only could she solve all his issues with the company, but she also promised to get his Sister into the best convalescent facility and find her a suitable heart… But the condition was that he had to stay by her side for five years and obediently play the part of a substitute.

Qin Wei had a childhood sweetheart she regarded as her “white moonlight”—Jiang Yu. Lin Che just happened to resemble Jiang Yu by five or six parts out of ten, and over the years, under Qin Wei’s constant grooming, that resemblance had increased to a solid seven.

Jiang Yu had poor health and a pale complexion. Qin Wei would take Lin Che to draw blood, make him shower in cold water, and even force him to stand outside in the snow wearing short sleeves as punishment.

Jiang Yu had five ear piercings, so Qin Wei personally used a needle to pierce Lin Che’s ears. Whenever Jiang Yu dyed his hair a new color, she would immediately take Lin Che to get the same one—replicating him exactly, one-to-one.

Lin Che never resisted. All he could do was pray silently, hoping Jiang Yu wouldn’t do anything reckless abroad. A new hair color or ear piercing he could still copy—but if Jiang Yu got a tattoo, broke a leg, went blind or deaf, then what? Was a substitute’s life not a life at all?

As his resemblance to Jiang Yu grew stronger, Qin Wei’s control over him only intensified. When he acted in dramas, she forbade him from taking on any romantic scenes. He wasn’t allowed to take off his clothes, nor get too close to women. All these strict rules kept him from ever landing lead roles.

As a result, even after all these years as an actor, he remained stuck at the bottom—an eighteen-line nobody. Qin Wei had invested in a few low-budget films for him, but they were all lukewarm art-house projects that never made a splash.

Qin Wei couldn’t stand to see him gaining popularity. Whenever Lin Che received praise online, got attention, or was complimented by directors and colleagues, Qin Wei would order him to come home immediately.

She demanded that Lin Che be at her beck and call, existing solely for her amusement. She wanted him…

Her heart and eyes were filled only with herself. In her view, Lin Che was a dog she had raised—and a dog’s greatest trait was loyalty. He couldn’t live without her.

Lin Che had a clear understanding of his own position: he was just a worker, though his job responsibilities were unusually broad.

In his assigned role, Lin Che performed diligently and responsibly, taking care of Qin Wei in every possible way. They hadn’t hired a housekeeper—he did all the cooking and cleaning himself.

When his cooking wasn’t good enough, he went to improve it. If the house wasn’t cleaned well enough, he did it over and over again until Qin Wei was satisfied.

It wasn’t that Qin Wei couldn’t afford a housekeeper—she simply felt that since she was paying Lin Che, he should be used to his fullest potential. She imagined Lin Che as Jiang Yu: whatever Jiang Yu could do, Lin Che had to do; whatever Jiang Yu couldn’t do, Lin Che had to do even more. That greatly satisfied her need for control and domination.

Lin Che looked out at the night scene, the road lined with ginkgo trees, streetlights glowing like scattered stars, illuminating the path he had taken.

He had long been preparing for this day, so when Qin Wei told him to move out, he wasn’t particularly surprised.

He had long hoped for this day to arrive. Even if Qin Wei hadn’t told him to leave, he would have brought it up when the time came.

Now that he was moving out a month earlier than expected, their separation was clean and decisive. Both were calm and unruffled, as if nothing had ever tied them together. There could be no better outcome.

Lin Che let out a long breath, a smile spreading across his face. His eyes were bright and clear. He pulled out his phone and blocked and deleted Qin Wei along with everyone associated with her. Only when his contacts list was completely clean did he finally feel a genuine sense of relief, as if he had escaped a sea of suffering.

It would be a lie to say he had no resentment after all these years. Even with the money, emotions were not so easily pacified. As he deleted all the alarms from his phone and cleared every memo, watching the name “Qin Wei” gradually vanish from his screen, it felt like his soul had been purified.

Lin Che wasn’t worried about having nowhere to live. He owned a place—a four-bedroom apartment with two living rooms, more than enough for him and his sister. A cleaning service came every month, so it was spotless and odor-free. He could move his luggage in and settle down immediately.

After an hour-long drive, Lin Che arrived home past midnight. He showered, made his bed, and lay down to sleep. From tonight on, he no longer had to worry about someone waking him in the middle of the night to make a late-night snack, no more sudden phone calls jolting him awake, no more early mornings preparing breakfast.

On the other side—

After Lin Che left, Qin Wei entered his bedroom. She opened the closet. All the clothes were still there, neatly arranged. Aside from the person himself, nothing was missing.

Yet somehow, Qin Wei felt the room had become unbearably empty, stirring a vague discomfort in her chest.

The floor was only half-mopped, with the mop still left in the living room. The kitchen lights were still on, and the fridge held leftovers from tonight’s dinner. There was even a bowl of dough left to rise—all because she had casually mentioned at lunch that she was craving oil-splashed noodles.

She stood there lost in thought, drifting into memories, when her phone rang. It was a friend from the industry calling.

“Vivi, come out and hang. We’re at the usual spot waiting for you.”

“It’s so late. I was about to sleep.”

“Sleep? Come on, it’s not like you’re working tomorrow. Have Lin Che drive you over, and when you’ve had your fun, let him take you back. Easy.”

At the mention of Lin Che, Qin Wei felt a pang of irritation. She was the one who had brought up the separation.

Logically, she should’ve felt relieved and satisfied that Lin Che had left so tactfully, without causing a fuss. But when she saw him dragging his suitcase out without saying a word, her chest had tightened. Even speaking had felt like forcing words through clenched teeth.

“Lin Che’s not here.”

“Not here? Where’d he go this late? Out buying you a late-night snack?”

Qin Wei didn’t want to talk about Lin Che. “I’ll drive myself. I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Order the drinks—I’m buying tonight.”