I Miss You Even in the Daytime [Rebirth GL] - Chapter 28

What screenwriter? Xu Liming’s gaze was still fixed on the girl’s flushed, steaming face; she hadn’t processed what Lu Baitian was saying at all.

It wasn’t until Su Lihua spoke to confirm the statement that Xu Liming belatedly widened her eyes.

Was this a joke, or was she dreaming?

“Comma” was… Lu Baitian?

Xu Liming’s fingertips, hidden inside her sleeve, pinched her own arm hard. The sweat on her palms mixed with a cold shiver; the chill of the air made her wake up with startling clarity.

She had imagined many, many exaggerated identities for “Comma”—perhaps a senior who found the competition troublesome and preferred to pull strings from the shadows, or some mysterious, profound figure hidden within Huachuan.

She had never considered that “Comma” was someone right beside her. And of all people, Lu Baitian?

Evidently, she wasn’t the only one shocked. Anyone in the audience who had heard of or seen Lu Baitian in person let out a series of “Huh?”s and “What?”s.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Tang Qian said, clutching Lin Wan’s arm. “She can write scripts? I’ve lived with her for over half a year and I’ve never seen her write anything!”

Lin Wan, being dragged down by her roommate’s weight, kept her cherry-red lips tightly shut. She stared fixedly at the two people on stage, her thoughts unreadable.

Amidst the cacophony of voices, the back of Lu Baitian’s shirt gradually became soaked with sweat, yet she did not move an inch.

“Yes. I am the screenwriter of The Third Life,” she repeated to Su Lihua.

Su Lihua didn’t know her, so she wasn’t particularly surprised. She simply inquired in a businesslike manner, “I see. Which class are you in? What is your name? I’ll record it here.”

“Freshman, Directing major. My name is Lu Baitian,” Lu Baitian said softly.

On stage, Xu Ning was already growing impatient. He held up the documents in his hand, the layered pages rustling loudly as he shook them. “Fine. Since the author has appeared, then tell me—why does your work have such a high similarity to my 2023 work?”

“If it’s not plagiarism or text-washing, then this is far too much of a coincidence.” Xu Ning looked at the nervous Lu Baitian, his tone becoming even more aggressive.

“Student Xu Ning, you are only making an accusation, not passing a sentence. I hope you watch your tone,” Xu Liming couldn’t help but interject.

A damp hand tugged at the hem of Xu Liming’s shirt. When Xu Liming looked down, the fingers had already pulled away.

Lu Baitian fumbled to pull her phone out of her pocket. On the screen was a photo of what looked like a magazine.

She had intended to hold the phone up for Xu Ning to see clearly, but perhaps she was too panicked or simply lost her footing; she accidentally stumbled forward and smacked the phone directly onto Xu Ning’s face.

As Xu Ning let out a pained “Ouch!”, she hurriedly withdrew the phone and stammered out an apology.

Xu Ning stood there with a red mark on the tip of his nose, unable to decide whether to curse or just be angry. His expression was somewhat distorted. “What exactly are you trying to do?”

Xu Liming, who had felt as if she were facing a formidable enemy just moments ago, looked at Lu Baitian tilting her head and almost laughed out loud.

Lu Baitian then turned and handed the phone to Su Lihua with both hands, giving a small bow. “Teacher, please take a look. This is a short story I published in In Character magazine in 2021.”

“The pen name is ‘Xiao Bai’ (Little White).” She pointed awkwardly to her own nose. “That’s me.”

Su Lihua took the phone, read a few lines, and then looked back at the script in her hand.

Although Lu Baitian was so nervous her face was bright red, her speech was organized and rapid-fire. ” The Third Life is an adaptation of this story. The original title was Deep Black.”

“The publication date is in the bottom right corner.” Lu Baitian stood on her tiptoes to point it out. “Right here: May 4, 2021.”

She gripped her hands tight and looked at Xu Ning, her words coming out like a machine gun: “You said your work was published in 2023, but mine was published back in 2021. If someone must have plagiarized, that person can only be you—it won’t be me.”

Xu Ning, who had thought victory was within his grasp, hadn’t expected such a reversal. He stood on the stage holding the microphone like a speechless stone statue.

“I…” He wanted to say something more, but was drowned out by Su Lihua’s voice.

“Enough,” Su Lihua scolded him, handing the phone back to Lu Baitian. “If the publication information is authentic, then The Third Life indeed did not plagiarize Again.”

“Lu Baitian, remember to send me this image later.” Su Lihua’s voice was stern. “Student Xu Ning, as for whether you committed plagiarism, we will investigate thoroughly after the evaluation ends.”

“And if anyone has this kind of issue next time, simply report it to the judges or your own mentor. There is no need for such a grand display that disrupts other students’ performances.”

“If this happens again, the entire group will be disqualified!” She glared at the humiliated Xu Ning. “Now, everyone get off the stage.”

Su Lihua walked off the stage in her high heels, but Xu Liming was still immersed in a daze. It wasn’t until Lu Baitian tugged at her sleeve that she instinctively followed her down.

The moment they stepped back into the darkness of the wings, she heard Lu Baitian’s cautious voice.

“I kept it from you all this time… please don’t be angry, okay?”

“I’m sorry, Xu Liming.”

Xu Liming didn’t have much time to dwell on this, because her group was about to go on stage. She scrambled out of her emotions almost immediately.

She picked up the walkie-talkie: “Qiu Qiu, get the props ready!”

The lights dimmed instantly. In the thick darkness, Qiu Qiu’s suppressed, excited voice came through the comms: “Ready, Director.”

“Begin,” Xu Liming said softly into the silence.

The moment the lights came on, Qin Zhaohe appeared in the center of the stage leaning on a cane. A spotlight caught her silver-white hair. Her beautiful back was hunched, and there wasn’t a trace left of a young girl.

She was the living image of an old woman at the end of her life. She looked up tremblingly, watching the heavy snow fly.

So this is a Best Actress, a thought popped into Xu Liming’s head. The glory of years to come was already beginning to take shape here.

The judges’ table began to rustle as several teachers whispered to each other, seemingly confirming whether the person on stage was truly Qin Zhaohe.

The music started. A giant patch of light appeared on the simple stage background. The beams cast the silhouettes of Qiu Qiu and the others, who slowly enacted the tragic life of the old woman as they moved from left to right.

Then, the music shifted into intense drumbeats. Numerous dark shadows swirled and pulled at the old woman. Her limbs twisted in a frantic, agonizing display. The eerie sight gave everyone present goosebumps.

The drumming stopped abruptly at the moment of highest emotional intensity, as did the old woman’s movements.

She became a cold corpse, frozen on the stage in a tragic posture.

With a sigh, the lights went out. A cold female voice repeatedly broadcast the news of the old woman’s bizarre suicide. That broadcast soon merged into an increasingly stirring musical score.

Amidst this dramatically eerie crescendo, the old woman’s corpse suddenly began to move. As the lights flickered on and off, her white hair vanished, her back straightened bit by bit, and her filthy clothes were replaced by clean ones.

By the time the musical rhythm stopped, she had transformed into a girl in a school uniform. She looked down at herself, then gazed into the distance.

Her eyes were filled with complex emotions, and tears fell.

The scene ended there. The lights stayed fully bright for a long time before pitter-patter applause broke out. Everyone was shocked by this unexpected performance; it took a moment for the critiques to start.

Su Lihua picked up the microphone. She didn’t say anything else, only asked: “The lead actress is Qin Zhaohe, right?”

This was the beginning of the script and an incredibly exhausting segment. By now, Qin Zhaohe was panting for breath. She wiped her sweat and nodded repeatedly, supported by Qiu Qiu.

“Very good,” Su Lihua said with a smile. “Go back and rest. Next group, get ready.”

This was the first time Su Lihua had offered a verbal compliment across so many groups. Xu Liming’s heart, which had been hanging by a thread, finally landed—only to immediately soar as if filled with helium.

She couldn’t stop her smile. Handing the walkie-talkie to the next director, she ran toward the backstage to give everyone a hug.

Backstage, the emotions were even more intense. Qiu Qiu had long forgotten her earlier complaints; the moment she stepped off stage, she hugged Qin Zhaohe and started wailing. The others were also laughing and crying as they patted each other.

“Well done, our lead! That was amazing!” a junior girl praised sincerely.

Acquaintances swarmed over from nearby to congratulate them: “I didn’t expect your acting to be this good. Playing second lead was really beneath you. And your director’s stage design was incredible—I was moved to tears!”

“Did you study dance? How did you do those movements, holy crap…” someone squeezed in to ask.

Compared to the excitement here, Lin Wan’s side was much quieter. She sat in a chair, watching them celebrate.

She also watched Lu Baitian, who stood secretly in the corner, not yet remembered and looking a bit lonely.

Xu Liming had rushed over by now, her long legs nearly failing to stop in time. She spread her arms and hugged Qin Zhaohe.

She was shoved away by an elbow as the other girl patted herself in disgust: “What are you doing?”

Xu Liming didn’t mind at all. She still held her hands out, saying with a smile: “Truly not going to give me a hug? Best Actress?”

“What kind of nonsense are you talking?” Though Qin Zhaohe said this, she still stiffened her waist and stepped forward for a brief moment in Xu Liming’s arms.

“Don’t say such things loosely in the future,” she said, though she looked very pleased.

Xu Liming went on to hug the others. After going through everyone, she saw Lu Baitian in the corner—her cheeks flushed, hesitant to step forward or back, her heart clearly full of conflict.

“What are you hiding there for?” Xu Liming found her expression amusing and spread her arms wide toward her.

“Come here for a hug.”