2023

Shen Baozhi had gone over the recipe Chi Xiaoman sent her several times. After that, she carried the fresh ingredients she’d bought at the supermarket and rang Chen Yue’s doorbell.

A minute later, Chen Yue opened the door.

Then she froze.

Her gaze landed on the ingredients in Shen Baozhi’s hands, and she didn’t move for a long moment.

Shen Baozhi found that odd. “Teacher Chen?”

She called out.

Chen Yue stayed silent for several more seconds before seeming to come back to herself, startled as if she’d just woken from a dream. “Baozhi? Why are you here?”

Then, with a trace of fatigue, she smiled at her. “Come in.”

“Teacher Chen, looks like you really haven’t been doing well these past few days.” Shen Baozhi stepped inside, glanced at Chen Yue’s overly pale lips and the neat apartment, which looked dim and gloomy in the insufficient light, and let out a sigh.

“Who says I’m not doing well?” Chen Yue followed behind her at an unhurried pace, then suddenly stopped midway through speaking.

“My mommy.” Shen Baozhi answered immediately.

Chen Yue nodded slowly.

She lowered her eyes and smiled.

Then she started walking again. “So she sent you over to see whether I’m still alive?”

“I told her you were definitely fine, but she was still worried. These past two days she and Xiao Qi aren’t on this side, and I happened to have time, so I came.” Shen Baozhi explained why she had shown up uninvited, then carried the ingredients into the middle of the living room and looked around in confusion. “Teacher Chen, where’s the kitchen?”

“You’re cooking?” Seeing how Shen Baozhi was carrying the ingredients, Chen Yue was still surprised. This second-generation rich girl might not have been especially spoiled, but when had she ever cooked for herself?

“Yes.” Shen Baozhi lifted the ingredients in both hands and smiled brightly. “I just learned candied sweet potatoes.”

It really was candied sweet potatoes.

Still surprised, Chen Yue’s gaze dropped again. She looked at the golden sweet potatoes in the transparent food bag in Shen Baozhi’s hand for several seconds before saying, “I’ll do it. You’re a guest.”

“No.” Shen Baozhi turned her body sideways so Chen Yue couldn’t take them.

With concern written all over her face, she looked at her. “You look really unwell. You should rest.”

Chen Yue was silent for a few seconds, then smiled. “Really unwell?”

“Yes.” Shen Baozhi pushed up her glasses.

Then she found the kitchen on her own.

Rolling up her sleeves, she took out the sweet potatoes she’d bought at the supermarket, already peeled and cut into chunks. As she lined them up neatly on the stovetop, she said, “My mommy said you’ve always been a very measured person. Since she’s known you, this kind of thing has only happened twice.”

“So she specifically told me to take good care of you.” She emphasized the last part.

It looked like there was no way to refuse.

Besides, Shen Baozhi had already taken out so many ingredients and seasonings that she looked ready to make a full production of it.

Chen Yue had no choice.

So she walked over and smiled at Shen Baozhi, who was already washing her hands. “Then I’ll trouble you.”

“No big deal.” Shen Baozhi wiped her hands on her apron and looked up at her, noticing that she had followed her and was standing by the door.

Then she took the initiative again and said, “Teacher Chen, if you think it’s too much, you can stand a little farther away from me.”

It was meant to be just a simple expression of concern.

But for some reason.

After those words fell, Chen Yue didn’t speak for a long time.

It wasn’t until Shen Baozhi reacted again and looked up at her. “Teacher Chen?”

At the sound of her voice, Chen Yue came back to herself and smiled faintly. “Sorry, I drifted off.”

Then.

Seeing Shen Baozhi’s somewhat clumsy, busy movements, she offered, “I’ll do it with you.”

“No need.” Shen Baozhi put on her gloves and used her knuckles to tap the phone screen awake.

“It’s a method a friend just taught me. It’ll go more smoothly if I do it alone.”

The lit phone screen was just a small patch.

From Chen Yue’s side, she could only make out dense blocks of text, not the specific content.

But Chen Yue still stared at it for a long time.

In the end, it was only after Shen Baozhi urged her that she left the apartment’s open kitchen and stood about ten steps away.

As the guest who had come all this way to make candied sweet potatoes for her, she was offering the proper courtesy of staying nearby.

It was obvious Shen Baozhi was making this dish for the first time as well; every step was unfamiliar to her.

After almost every step, she had to check her phone carefully and review what she’d done.

Along the way, she doubted herself more than once, convinced she’d done something wrong.

In the end, she had no choice but to ask the friend who had taught her how to make candied sweet potatoes several more times, send photos, and inquire about a bunch of details.

And that friend seemed to have plenty of free time; not only were they online in real time, they were also very patient with novice Shen Baozhi, answering every question accurately and in enough detail that a beginner could understand. Every so often, that drew an expression of sudden enlightenment from Shen Baozhi.

But compared with the voice messages Shen Baozhi sent over.

That friend seemed to be quite shy, and hadn’t sent even a single voice message back.

Chen Yue, drinking warm water from ten steps away, thought in utter silence.

And because Shen Baozhi and that friend were already busy enough with their back-and-forth, she didn’t interrupt much.

It was only after all the ingredients were prepared and Shen Baozhi started boiling the sugar that she took the time to pour a cup of warm water for Shen Baozhi, who had been busy since the moment she came in, and set it somewhere it wouldn’t be easily knocked over. She also asked, “Was your trip to Beijing smooth?”

“Of course.” Shen Baozhi took the water Chen Yue handed over and drank a big gulp. Then, under her gaze as it dropped back down, she quickly locked her phone screen, which had been faintly lit a moment ago, and smiled at her. “The collaboration has basically been secured.”

Chen Yue paused for a while. “That’s good.”

She lowered her eyes and left the kitchen.

She poured herself a cup of water too, then rolled the cup in her hand and smiled at Shen Baozhi. “So how’s the progress now?”

Shen Baozhi thought for a moment. “Right now, this movie of ours has a script from ten years ago and a producer who counts as officially on the job, but is still leaning on Mommy for support.”

Chen Yue smiled.

“And there’s also a very stubborn, very impulsive director who refuses to be credited.” Shen Baozhi added.

Chen Yue’s motion as she drank stopped for a beat.

“And a female lead I’m trying very sincerely to invite right now.” Shen Baozhi continued, using her chopsticks to test the syrup’s stickiness.

Chen Yue gently set the water cup down on the table and said nothing.

“Hm—” She didn’t ask further, but Shen Baozhi kept going on her own. “Though this director who refuses to be credited might be coming to Hong Kong tomorrow.”

Chen Yue’s hand stopped mid-motion as she set down the cup.

“Hong Kong?”

What was she coming to Hong Kong for?

Chen Yue didn’t ask.

But Shen Baozhi took the initiative to answer her question. “To meet an investor.”

“What investor?” Chen Yue frowned.

The sugar was ready.

Shen Baozhi put the sweet potatoes she had just fried into it, then busied herself with the spatula for a while; sweaty all over, she finally brought out the finished dish, only to realize that Chen Yue was still wearing that uneasy expression and looking at her.

So she smiled and said, “Teacher Chen, don’t worry. My mommy and I both hate those shady, sleazy kinds of things.”

“Mhm, I know.” The tension between Chen Yue’s brows loosened a little as she considered whether it would be inappropriate to keep asking.

Shen Baozhi put the not-so-pretty finished dish on the table, carefully wiping the hardened, darkened syrup from the rim of the white plate. Seeing Chen Yue make no move, she explained again, “It’s Miss Ma. She read our script and said she cried her eyes out just from the first half, and that she wanted to meet the screenwriter. But the screenwriter isn’t here, so the director had to come in person.”

So that was it.

Chen Yue rubbed the bridge of her nose, which had started to ache.

She walked over.

Looking down at the plate of candied sweet potatoes, darkened a little from inexperience, she said softly, “Sorry, I was being a little too nervous.”

“It’s fine.”

Shen Baozhi handed her a pair of chopsticks.

Then she looked at the blackish sweet potatoes herself, her expression stiffening for a moment.

“Even though I followed the steps, why does it look so bad?”

“No, it looks delicious.” Chen Yue smiled at her and used the chopsticks to pick up a piece. “And you came all this way to cook for me; that’s trouble enough. I’ll clean the kitchen up myself later.”

“Then... Teacher Chen should try it first?”

“Okay, thank you.”

Chen Yue said.

Then she lowered her head, brushing her hair back.

She took a small, gentle bite of the candied sweet potato Shen Baozhi had specially made for her.

Her manners were elegant; each bite was tiny, and she chewed very slowly. Most people would lose their appetite watching Chen Yue eat, because she never looked as if she were eating for pleasure; she was simply taking food in.

Honestly, Shen Baozhi had only met Chen Yue a few times before, but she had always thought Chen Yue should be the kind of person untouched by the mundane world, like clouds, like wind, like mist, like a celestial being from the heavens; nothing about her seemed like an ordinary, vivid human being.

Aside from the characters she played in films, she herself was easy to get along with and always smiling, yet she seemed never to experience intense emotions like anger, frustration, or sorrow. In private, she also rarely attended those unnecessary gatherings, and she had almost no desire for food, clothes, or wealth.

Which was why, when she heard Chi Xiaoman say that Chen Yue liked sweets—

even candied sweet potatoes, that ultra-sweet, deep-fried kind of thing—Shen Baozhi had been very surprised.

That was completely different from the Chen Yue she knew.

But now it seemed.

Chen Yue really might have liked candied sweet potatoes.

Even this plate, made by Shen Baozhi, a little blackened, even somewhat bitter from being too sweet, and completely inauthentic.

Chen Yue still ate several pieces before stopping.

It was only then that Shen Baozhi abruptly remembered Chi Xiaoman’s reminder not to let Chen Yue eat too much.

She wanted to speak up and stop her, but it was already too late.

Because before she could, Chen Yue had already set down her chopsticks, then smiled at her very softly.

“Don’t worry, I only ate three pieces.”

Shen Baozhi froze.

“Baozhi.”

Hong Kong’s summers were rainy, and it had only just finished raining today; the sky was overcast.

Chen Yue sat in that hazy blue-gray light like smoke, her black hair casually pinned up.

The skin on the part of her face exposed to the light was very white, but it had a kind of tired, melancholic pallor.

“What is it, Teacher Chen?”

Shen Baozhi came back to herself, silently guessing whether Chen Yue already knew that her mysterious friend was Chi Xiaoman, and silently guessing too whether eating no more than three pieces at a time was a private agreement between those two.

“I heard Miss Ma has a hobby of tasting wine. If possible, please take extra care of her tomorrow.”

At that moment, Chen Yue lowered her head and stared at the darkened candied sweet potatoes as she said softly, “She doesn’t like Hong Kong, and she can’t drink too much.”

Maybe she was just too good at imagining things, but Shen Baozhi suddenly had the strange illusion that two people were talking to each other from afar—

One was in Beijing, and one was in Hong Kong.

The distance seemed far enough to make even a phone call go badly. Yet it also seemed close, close enough for a plate of candied sweet potatoes delivered to the door to be eaten with such precision that only three pieces were touched.

Before she could say anything, Chen Yue seemed to think of something else and smiled, adding gently,

“Maybe.”

After a pause, she changed it to a more fitting phrase, one without any loopholes at all, her voice very light.

“I mean, right now, she only might not be able to drink too much.”

[Author’s Note]

On time for the seventeenth day of Little Neon [sunglasses]

(I’m planning to keep these sunglasses on all the way until the end [sunglasses])