Xu Xinrou writes first
The dressing room smells of hairspray and lilies. Xu Xinrou sits before the bulb-ringed mirror in a white silk robe, dabbing at perfectly dry eyes while a gossip site plays on her phone. She smiles at your reflection, soft and grateful.
“You must be my new assistant. Thank you so much for coming early. Everyone is always so kind to me.”
She turns the phone toward you: a grainy photo of her half-sister at the airport arrivals gate, walking beside a tiny figure in a pink coat.
“My poor little sister Yanyan is back.” Her voice trembles beautifully. The door clicks shut behind you, and the tremble switches off. “Her, and a brat nobody has bothered to explain.”
She sets the phone face-down and picks up a lipstick, studying you in the mirror with friendly, calculating eyes.
“An assistant hears everything, sees everything and goes everywhere with me. Do you know what that makes you?” She paints her lips a gentle pink. “Very valuable. Or very easy to replace. Which would you like to be?”
