2023
June 2023 brought Hong Kong a summer that was hot and humid.
Chen Yue finally finished a week of staying cooped up indoors. When she stepped outside, the sun was blinding enough to make her almost feel like a wandering soul that hadn’t seen daylight in a very long time.
At dusk, there was no sunset.
Chen Yue drove to the address Shen Baozhi had sent her that afternoon: a Japanese dining club.
She had booked a private room in advance and ordered a few dishes to meet the minimum spend.
Yet she didn’t eat a single bite.
Instead, she ate the candied sweet potatoes she had brought from home.
They were the same batch Shen Baozhi had made for her at home yesterday; she had put them in the fridge afterward, then reheated them after getting up that morning. She hadn’t handled them very well. The microwave had blown apart the sugar, and in the scramble to save them, only five pieces were left. They looked even darker than they had yesterday, and when she bit into them, the inside was a little hard too.
Still, five pieces were not much more than two or three.
So in the private room of this upscale Japanese club,
Chen Yue stubbornly ate all five pieces anyway.
After she finished,
she heard several people enter the private room next door.
So she set down her chopsticks,
wiped her mouth,
and sat very quietly in the room waiting.
During that time, both a server and the manager came in twice to ask whether the food didn’t suit her taste.
Chen Yue smiled and shook her head, saying no.
After that, to avoid causing trouble for others, she reluctantly ate some Japanese dishes she didn’t especially like.
And then,
she heard the door to the adjacent private room being pushed open as someone stumbled out, unsteady on their feet, swaying as if they’d already gotten very drunk after being inside for less than an hour.
Chen Yue lowered her eyes, set down her chopsticks, and before she had even waited a minute in the private room, she followed.
A smooth dinner gathering wouldn’t end within an hour. If it hadn’t gone smoothly, then Chi Xiaoman shouldn’t be the kind of person to storm out halfway through a meal.
Her first instinct was to go to the nearest restroom available to customers.
And there she saw Chi Xiaoman.
They had clearly only seen each other a week ago. It wasn’t long, yet it also felt as if it had been a long time.
Because the Chi Xiaoman she saw now had so many things about her that felt both familiar and unfamiliar—
Perhaps she hadn’t expected anyone to follow her. Or perhaps she simply had no time to care about anyone else.
Chi Xiaoman stumbled about, carelessly splashing water over her face outside. It was hardly the way a top star should behave. Yet appearing here made the whole place feel improbably beautiful, as if it were some unreal scene. She was bare-faced; after the water had dampened her face, her complexion was pale, but because she looked so clean, she took on a more vivid, brighter air.
This was a formal occasion.
She wasn’t dressed casually. Her gray knit top looked very soft, with tiny flecks of shimmer dotted across it; the cut was small and narrow, making her appear very slim, her shoulders and butterfly bones delicate, like a beautiful goldfish whose spine had even been pared down.
Her hair was tied into a side bun.
Different from the last time Chen Yue had seen her, but it suited her lovely, lively face very well. Every strand looked carefully tended to, except for a few that had been dampened by the water she’d splashed over her face and hung in clumps; even so, they weren’t messy.
Though her face, the corners of her eyes, her nose, and her chin were all streaked with clear water.
Chen Yue couldn’t tell whether those were tears.
Because she saw Chi Xiaoman smile.
Smiling while speaking on the phone to the person on the other end; smiling at herself in the mirror.
The curve of her lips was beautiful.
It brought to mind the standard smile fixed on a doll’s face, a smile that seemed to contain a great deal of genuine emotion and left no loophole for anyone to question its imperfection.
Anyone who didn’t know her couldn’t tell whether it was entirely sincere.
And Chen Yue was someone who didn’t know her.
So she didn’t know whether, if she stepped forward abruptly, Chi Xiaoman would greet her with that kind of smile she didn’t like, or whether her appearance would make Chi Xiaoman feel embarrassed.
Until Chi Xiaoman hung up, washed her face again, and then saw her in the mirror too—
When she saw Chi Xiaoman’s eye rims growing redder and redder, Chen Yue couldn’t help but walk forward, explain why she was here so Chi Xiaoman wouldn’t feel pressured, and show concern. In the end, she called her,
“Xiaoman.”
It wasn’t said out of habit at all. Before speaking, Chen Yue had briefly considered it, and had also reminded herself not to overstep. But in the end, she still said the name aloud.
It wasn’t impulsive at all; she simply wanted to do it.
Even after that,
she repeated it again, stubbornly,
“Xiaoman?”
Hearing that not-quite-appropriate form of address, Chi Xiaoman stared at Chen Yue in front of her, dazed for a very long time.
Her vision was full of blur from the alcohol fermenting in her system.
She covered her eyes with her palm. When she let it go, Chen Yue was still standing there, so real and clear.
Then she could no longer tell whether the Chen Yue in front of her was a drunken hallucination or real.
But she still wanted to smile at Chen Yue.
Only she couldn’t manage it.
Instead she felt a violent churn in her stomach.
The situation was urgent.
She staggered and pushed open an empty stall, then bent over the toilet and threw up with her head spinning.
She wasn’t good at drinking. In all these years, she had never thought alcohol tasted all that good. Today she had accompanied Miss Ma for a few drinks, and now felt terribly sick.
Her eyes were full of blurry tears.
It felt as if her brain had been poured into her stomach and was being madly stirred with a stick.
After vomiting into the toilet while clinging to it and seeing stars for a while, Chi Xiaoman realized Chen Yue hadn’t followed her in. She suddenly understood that this really was a hallucination. Otherwise, how could Chen Yue be so miraculous as to always appear whenever she felt miserable?
She didn’t have the energy to think any further about this vanished illusion outside.
Facing the toilet, Chi Xiaoman vomited out almost everything she had swallowed that day, yet her stomach still felt awful.
Then, with her head splitting open, she thought—
In this state, she probably wasn’t fit to return to the dinner gathering; she could only apologize to Shen Baozhi afterward.
Her mind spun in circles.
It was when she had already thrown up everything she could, yet still couldn’t help retching over the toilet and manage to bring up a little brownish fluid—
that she felt the strands of hair drooping down because of her violent movements being gently lifted and tucked behind her neck.
The touch was very soft.
As if she were being treated like a precious glass doll that would shatter at the slightest force.
Pale-faced, she looked up in a daze and saw the woman crouched beside her—
Perhaps because of the angle, and because her vision had blurred after drinking, she couldn’t make out the woman’s face very clearly. She could only see the woman’s long black hair, and those eyes in the dim light watching her quietly with warmth and melancholy.
“Chen Yue?”
With great difficulty,
Chi Xiaoman realized this wasn’t a hallucination, nor a dream.
“It’s me.” Chen Yue said simply, only a few words. She didn’t continue.
Because Chi Xiaoman vomited again.
And Chen Yue had always been considerate; she wouldn’t ask or exchange pleasantries with Chi Xiaoman at a time like this.
Chi Xiaoman had no mind to care about anything else either.
After hunching over and retching for a while, she couldn’t bring up anything new.
So she braced herself weakly against the wall and stood up, smiling at Chen Yue, who had reached out to help but hadn’t managed to support her.
She had wanted to say “thank you,” but perhaps because of the alcohol, the words that came out of her mouth were, in a trance, a very soft,
“Chen Yue, why are you sick again?”
It was even phrased as a question.
A question that confirmed Chen Yue was indeed still sick.
Chen Yue probably hadn’t expected her to bring this up so suddenly. She paused, then said in a low voice, “I caught a cold a few days ago by accident.”
Chi Xiaoman leaned against the stall wall, staring blankly at Chen Yue’s face, which also didn’t look very good. After a long while, she spoke slowly, “I could tell from the beginning. Your nose sounds so congested.”
Her thoughts jumped around, but she still smiled a little. “Did you take medicine?”
“Yes.” Chen Yue looked at her.
Chi Xiaoman nodded and said no more.
It was because, with their current identities, no matter how much concern she couldn’t help feeling, it could only stop here.
It wasn’t that she insisted on talking to Chen Yue in a toilet stall. It was simply that after vomiting for so long, she didn’t even have the strength to walk out.
But for some reason, Chen Yue didn’t leave either. So she had no choice but to face her like this.
“But I’m a little better today.” The restroom for guests was fairly spacious; although both of them were standing inside, it didn’t feel cramped. Chen Yue stood all the way on the other side, several steps away, yet her gaze was still warm. “Are you feeling better now?”
Chi Xiaoman nodded and said,
“Thank you.”
It wasn’t right for two people to crowd into one stall like this.
Chi Xiaoman was dizzy and felt she had recovered a little.
So she held onto the wall and wanted to leave.
Chen Yue didn’t seem inclined to stop her either.
She made room for her.
Only her gaze was still fixed on her, as if afraid she might accidentally fall.
“Thank you, thank you.” Chi Xiaoman could only say that again.
And continue supporting herself on the wall as she walked out.
But before she had taken a single step,
her legs went soft and her vision went black.
Before she fainted, she felt Chen Yue behind her catch her, but the last thread of consciousness made her try to struggle, and try to steady herself again.
At that moment,
she heard the woman she had hurriedly hugged make a faint sigh.
Then,
those hands came up to cover her eyes so she wouldn’t move around and hurt herself in the stall.
The palm was soft; the strands of hair falling onto her face were soft; the shoulder and chest she was leaning against were soft; even the voice was soft,
“Don’t worry; I won’t secretly sell you off.”
-
She woke up in a car.
The seat was soft, and the air-conditioning was at a comfortable temperature.
Chi Xiaoman lifted her eyelids in a daze.
The first thing she saw was the colored neon lights outside the car window—glass with very good privacy and very good light transmission, so the neon reflected in as well, and it was bright. Just after waking, her vision was a little blurry, so the blocks of color stuck together, like a finely brushed oil painting.
Then she heard Chen Yue’s voice beside her.
“Awake?”
Chi Xiaoman, still dazed, instinctively looked toward where the voice had come from and saw another oil painting—
The car wasn’t moving. The interior lights were off too.
Chen Yue was almost entirely sitting in darkness; only her upper body and face were lit by the neon outside the window. Yellow, green, blue; every translucent shade of neon light found its most fitting place on the woman’s face.
Chi Xiaoman hadn’t expected to meet Chen Yue’s eyes in a situation like this. She felt dizzy, but still a little stiffly tried to sit up.
“If you’re dizzy, lean back first,” Chen Yue said.
Her tone was still that same enveloping gentleness.
But perhaps alcohol had weakened her willpower.
Chi Xiaoman obeyed almost reflexively. She stopped moving, and obediently leaned against the seat.
Only she no longer dared to stare directly at Chen Yue the way she had when she first woke up.
In the past nine years, they had truly met only three times, but every time they met, she had never dared to look closely at Chen Yue’s face.
She was afraid of finding traces on Chen Yue’s face she didn’t recognize, and also afraid that every trace she did find would be familiar enough to remind her of the past.
Chen Yue seemed a little surprised by how obedient she was. After a pause, she handed her a bottle of water and said gently, “Drinking some water after throwing up will help a lot.”
“Thank you.” Chi Xiaoman lowered her head and took it.
The cap had already been opened, so even she, not fully sober and parched with thirst, could drink it easily.
Chen Yue gave a soft “mm” and didn’t say more.
Chi Xiaoman also didn’t know what she could say, so she simply drank the water by the sip, as if spacing out.
When she had finished the water and was honestly holding the bottle in her hand,
Chen Yue called her,
“Chi Xiaoman.”
Not Xiaoman. It seemed she didn’t want to make a mistake either.
“Mm?” Chi Xiaoman gripped the half-empty bottle tightly and smiled. “What did Teacher Chen want to say?”
Chen Yue looked at her for a long time, then said softly, “Let me help you.”
Chi Xiaoman froze.
She hadn’t expected Chen Yue to be so direct. For a moment, she didn’t know whether she had misunderstood.
The car lights by the roadside flickered across their faces like thin lines. She was about to ask a question, but Chen Yue looked at her and said, “Let me help you with Neon.”
Whether intentionally or unintentionally, her tone carried the usual cadence of an older person coaxing someone,
“Okay?”
Then, gently, with her name added at the end:
“Xiaoman.”
-
The car didn’t move, and neither did Chi Xiaoman for a very long time.
No one knew why Hong Kong was so impatient.
Chi Xiaoman felt that maybe she had only paused for two or three minutes without answering, but the raindrops inside the clouds, unable to endure the silence, had already impatiently begun to fall. Crackling and popping, they melted the neon on the glass into a blurred backdrop behind her and Chen Yue.
After a long while,
she felt a little short of breath, so she said very softly to Chen Yue,
“Chen Yue, can I open the window a little?”
Chen Yue looked at her.
There was about ten seconds of silence.
Perhaps she was considering whether Chi Xiaoman would once again choose to run away like last time.
But in the end, she still indulged her and lowered the car window.
When the window dropped to about one-third open, Chi Xiaoman spoke up in time, “That’s enough.”
“Thank you.” She added.
Because she didn’t want the rain to blow in and dirty Chen Yue’s car, Chi Xiaoman leaned her head and face toward the opening to feel the wind. The wind was moist, mixed with the night rain. It drifted across her face, dampening her hair, but it also eased the tightness in her chest a great deal. After a while, she asked,
“But Chen Yue, why do you have to help me?”
Speaking honestly,
Chi Xiaoman felt Chen Yue’s attitude toward her after all these years of reunion was truly strange. She neither resented her nor avoided her; instead she had come looking for her openly, and genuinely wanted to help her.
Was it because she had truly let go of that old relationship, unlike Chi Xiaoman, who was still stuck on it? Was she willing to put the past behind them? Or were there other reasons Chi Xiaoman couldn’t understand?
Perhaps Chen Yue had always been that kind of person; impossible to read, impossible to grasp, which was why the twenty-something Chi Xiaoman had fallen so deeply for her and could never walk away. Later, she had neither the courage to cling to her nor the bravery to keep her.
“It’s…” Raindrops swayed; one brushed her lips.
Chi Xiaoman thought it tasted bitter, and her voice was stung a little lighter. “You want to help me because you pity me, don’t you?”
“No.” Chen Yue’s denial carried almost no emotion. It sounded very rational. But she unusually didn’t answer the question head-on; instead she sighed and asked in return, “Then why are you so determined not to let me help you?”
Her tone wasn’t accusing.
Yet it made Chi Xiaoman sink into silence again.
From that first question onward,
she had almost been fully turned away from Chen Yue, twisting the half-deflated plastic water bottle in her hands and staring blankly at the rain outside the glass, and at the puddles reflecting light.
Chen Yue couldn’t see Chi Xiaoman clearly. Perhaps Chi Xiaoman had deliberately turned her back so Chen Yue couldn’t see her expression.
But even so, she still couldn’t truly get angry at a Chi Xiaoman like this, just as she couldn’t help feeling sorrow when she saw Chi Xiaoman smile at herself in the mirror.
After a long time,
Chen Yue was about to ask whether Chi Xiaoman still wanted water.
But Chi Xiaoman spoke first.
“Do you know what, Chen Yue?”
Her tone was soft, and there was no trace of crying, no trace of sorrow or anything bad.
“I’ve seen a lot of producers lately, and a lot of film companies that are supposedly very discerning and very capable; basically they’re all people I’ve worked with before. Some of them even said they really liked my work before and hoped we’d have a chance to collaborate again…”
“But.”
“But every time I send them the Neon script and the project proposal, everyone says the thing I want to do is especially difficult right now, takes a huge amount of time and energy, and can easily end with me pouring money in and still coming away with a mess.”
“Because right now, people just don’t really like watching this kind of movie.”
“I know it’s hard.” Chen Yue looked at Chi Xiaoman’s back. The wind blew in and lifted her hair lightly, making her seem less tense, with a kind of free and easy beauty. She looked a lot like the Chi Xiaoman of before. “And I know that making this decision, one that no one thinks highly of, took a lot of courage.”
Chi Xiaoman didn’t continue along her line of comfort by describing how hard or how bitter it was for herself. Instead, she suddenly reached out to feel the wind flowing outside the car window, then smiled lightly into it.
“Then do you know what else?”
She didn’t turn around. She drew her hand back, slowly narrowed her eyes against the wind, and said slowly,
“Every time people hear that I definitely want to do this, they all end up looking at me with this incredibly unbelievable expression, as if I’ve done something really, really stupid. And then… every single one of them recommends you to me.”
“They say you’re now the art-house actress with the highest commercial value; that not only is your reputation good, you can also carry the box office. They say that whether it’s from a market standpoint or from early-stage preparation, if I can bring you in and get this project off the ground, the whole process will be much easier than me fighting alone right now.”
“Even for tonight’s dinner gathering, Miss Ma’s condition to me was that it would be best if I could invite you to be the lead.”
Chi Xiaoman smiled, still with that harmless, nonaggressive kind of smile.
“You’re really amazing, Actress Chen Yue.”
Even though alcohol was affecting her, her pronunciation was a little blurred. Still, she tried her best to enunciate the last four characters clearly.
After saying it once, her tone sounded very happy; not the fake sort of happiness, but genuine happiness at Chen Yue becoming the first choice in some people’s eyes.
It was the unreserved happiness Chi Xiaoman could release for Chen Yue.
“Since I’m already that amazing,”
Chen Yue looked at her side profile softened by the streetlights. Though she felt many unwillingnesses, wanting to get her to rest sooner, or to hide back in her safe nest.
But perhaps only after drinking would Chi Xiaoman be willing to say a little more to her. So in the end Chen Yue could only ask,
“Then why still won’t you let me help you?”
Questioned about this again, Chi Xiaoman fell silent once more.
Chen Yue thought she would be silent for a long time.
But after about four or five seconds, she sniffled and said softly,
“I don’t want to make you my bargaining chip.”
Chen Yue froze.
“Is that kind of thought especially stupid?”
As if especially sensitive to her lack of response, after saying that, Chi Xiaoman awkwardly wrinkled her nose, then continued,
“I don’t like how incapable I am.”
“To make the thing I want to do easier, I’d have to approach you, use you, put your Best Actress title out there, and then use it as a stamp of approval for what I want to do.”
“And I don’t like seeing you treated as a ‘condition,’ as a ‘resource,’ as something I use to negotiate with people at a dinner table or over drinks.”
“I also don’t like you turning into a symbol, into a name everyone can use to talk about the benefits I can exchange for, or even into a tool.”
Because your Best Actress title was won by your own hard work; it has nothing to do with me, Chi Xiaoman. I can’t use the little bit of old feelings between us to take advantage of your softness, your tolerance, and your consideration to pave my own road.
Because I know that in this circle, interests outweigh feelings, and no relationship can ever be completely clean, with no entanglement of profit.
Maybe one second everyone is smiling and collaborating closely, and the next they all turn on each other over some tiny thing. Maybe it’s an ad, maybe it’s one of the agency’s statements, maybe somebody casually meddles in between them… and just like that, the two people become enemies.
Because she didn’t want to have a relationship like that with Chen Yue.
And she was also afraid she would really ruin things in the end.
Not only would she make them become the kind of people who could only hate each other from afar in the future, hurting each other and herself alike, she would also hurt Chen Yue.
She would never again be able to feel at ease in front of Chen Yue.
—Chi Xiaoman didn’t say the rest aloud.
At thirty, she was timid. She no longer had the reckless innocence of the past; she had been disciplined by a great many things, and there were many things she didn’t dare do, many words she didn’t dare say. She was also afraid that if she said too many childish things, Chen Yue would look down on her.
After she finally voiced her real thoughts, Chen Yue gave no response for a long time.
Chi Xiaoman guessed she might think her thoughts were too childish, so she smiled and took the initiative to say,
“I know, I’m already thirty this year, and still thinking like this would only make people find me strange. So just treat me as—”
“No.” Rarely, Chen Yue interrupted her. “I didn’t think that.”
Her tone carried an elder’s gentleness. “I don’t think you’re stupid, and I don’t think you’re childish.”
Perhaps she hadn’t expected Chen Yue to speak so firmly. As soon as the words landed, Chi Xiaoman’s slender back trembled almost imperceptibly.
At that moment, Chen Yue saw her reflection in the car window, saw her force the corners of her lips into a smile, as if she wanted to smile at her again. She didn’t like that kind of smile from Chi Xiaoman; beautiful and perfect, but not like her.
So Chen Yue spoke first.
“But your innocence is there.”
It was like an unimportant joke, meant to soften the stiffness at the corner of Chi Xiaoman’s mouth.
Chi Xiaoman froze.
So Chen Yue added, “Don’t misunderstand; in my view, that word is not pejorative.”
In fact,
Chen Yue was three years older than Chi Xiaoman, and thought she had both the obligation and the responsibility to teach Chi Xiaoman to recognize some things about the adult world, or the rules that everyone in this circle took for granted. To accept that this world was never as pure as it seemed, and that relationships free of any interest did not really exist. To accept that everyone in this circle had already become accustomed to using one another. And what stood between them now was still far from counting as using each other as a bargaining chip, a condition, or a tool.
But when Chi Xiaoman turned back to look at her with eyes that were stubborn and a little red,
Chen Yue thought instead—
What was that reasoning worth, after all?
Mutual use, exchanging resources; that was never rare, and many people did it.
But there would never be another Chi Xiaoman.
There would never again be a Chi Xiaoman sitting in her car.
With her back to those bizarre, shifting neon lights, eye rims red, telling her— I don’t want to make you a bargaining chip.
She should not be one of the people who made that kind of Chi Xiaoman disappear.
So when the words reached her lips,
Chen Yue lowered her voice, making it softer still. “Chi Xiaoman, actually, you’re very brave.”
Brave.
This was not the first time Chi Xiaoman had heard Chen Yue say it. But only Chen Yue would say it.
She lowered her head and covered her reddened eyes.
Then shook her head.
She couldn’t say anything at all.
Chen Yue went on,
“I don’t deny your point of view, and I don’t think your idea is childish. I also don’t think your refusal to let me help you is some kind of mistake, or something unworthy of being said honestly. And I have never, even for a second, suspected that you were using me, or that you’re some very bad, very selfish person.”
Her explanation carried a great deal of certainty, and also a great deal of consideration that didn’t suit their current identities.
As if Chi Xiaoman really were that honest, that correct a person in her words.
“But Xiaoman.”
Even without getting angry at her repeated attempts to find excuses, she still used that address again, her tone full of indulgence.
“Don’t forget.”
Wind and rain tossed the world around.
In the shifting light and shadow of the car lamps, the woman looked steadily at her; her face was blurred, her voice very light under the rain,
“At least Neon is different.”
Chi Xiaoman froze.
Chen Yue still looked at her. “We’re collaborating on Neon; is that because we’re using each other?”
Chi Xiaoman opened her lips with difficulty, wanting to answer, but couldn’t say a single word.
She instinctively clenched her wrist so hard it hurt.
“Are you treating me as a bargaining chip and a condition right now?”
Chen Yue didn’t look away; she still watched her in the car light and shadow, her voice unhurried, as if carrying a great deal of tenderness dissolved into the rain.
“Did you agree to Miss Ma’s condition at the dinner gathering? Did you give her any response? Did you use my name to negotiate with her and ask her to invest a few more points?”
“Will you, in the future, treat me as a bargaining chip, a resource, and a negotiation tool; lay them out one by one at drinking tables and tell others what extent Chen Yue can go to for this movie before bargaining with them?”
“Will you, because of one sentence from an investor, turn around and coax me into filming a birthday video for her star-struck little daughter?”
“Or make me unwillingly stand in for some investor’s event? Or put me in as a condition when signing a gamble contract?”
Chen Yue had always been good at guiding people along. Added to that, her Mandarin was soft as flowing water, so even this dense string of questions carried no sense of interrogation when she said them.
“Or the other way around.”
At this point,
Chen Yue paused for a few seconds before continuing,
“Do you think I would do these things?”
At the end, Chi Xiaoman sniffled her blocked nose and said, “No.”
She tightened the plastic water bottle in her hand until it was squeezed flat, stressing, “I never thought that.”
When she said those two lines, she kept her head down and didn’t look at Chen Yue.
But Chen Yue seemed to have been watching her all along.
Perhaps older people really were more composed; at the very least, they wouldn’t evade eye contact all the time like she did.
The car fell silent for a moment.
Chen Yue sighed.
She reached over and took away the water bottle that had been gripped so tightly in Chi Xiaoman’s hand—
Though it could hardly be called taking it away, because by the time Chen Yue reached out, before she had even made contact, Chi Xiaoman had already obediently handed it over.
“Do you still want water?”
Chen Yue noticed the red marks on her hand from gripping too hard and suddenly regretted choosing an inappropriate moment. But in the end, what was inappropriate for Chi Xiaoman was not the moment; it was the person.
Now that she no longer had anything in her hands,
Chi Xiaoman felt a little awkward, so she only shook her head with red-rimmed eyes. “No, thank you.”
“Alright.”
As if afraid of frightening her, Chen Yue said softly, “If you still want some, just tell me.”
Chi Xiaoman nodded. “Thank you, thank you.”
After that, she didn’t speak for a long time.
She lowered her head.
Her whole body curled up in the car seat, sinking into the darkness, like someone who had completely lost her color.
Perhaps fearing she might suddenly open the car door and run off, causing trouble in this state, Chen Yue set the water bottle down and looked at her for a while before starting the car on her own.
The car drove through the rain.
Chi Xiaoman found every street in Hong Kong unfamiliar.
She had no idea where they were going.
She stared at the colorful haze and drifting rain threads outside the car window, spacing out for about half an hour before gathering enough courage to ask,
“Chen Yue, have you really thought it through?”
“Mm.”
Compared with her hesitation, Chen Yue seemed especially rational on this matter.
“Don’t worry. If this choice means I’ll lose a lot, or, as you imagine, I’ll lose both fame and fortune.”
“Your turn won’t come first; my manager will be the first to jump out and object.”
“Okay.” Chi Xiaoman nodded weakly.
Chen Yue did not continue speaking.
She seemed very patient, and did not press.
And Chi Xiaoman lowered her eyes.
She looked at the jumping lights on her knees. After a while, she smiled and said,
“Thank you.”
Only once. Chen Yue was a little unaccustomed to it. “Thank me for what?”
Chi Xiaoman turned to look at her, smiling at her in the pause of a red light, as if truly sincere, and as if yielding, but still insisting on finishing the sentence properly.
“Thank you for being willing to help me.”
Because there was too much to thank her for.
And because this was already the most open way she could express her feelings now.
-
Chen Yue likely had no idea what to make of her inconsistency, but during that time in the car, Chi Xiaoman suddenly thought of Lang Lang after a long absence.
Perhaps Lang Lang would never have imagined that she and Chen Yue would end up like this.
But if Lang Lang had been there, she would probably have squeezed her way in between them very unhappily and said very seriously—
Chi Xiaoman, Chen Tong is one of the lead actresses I personally chose; you do not have the right to exercise so-called veto power.
If she were really questioned like that, Chi Xiaoman would be left speechless.
Looking at it this way, Chen Yue really did have enough patience with her. She had never made any question like that to her, never blamed her, and even without holding the past against her, she had offered some unnecessary praise and affirmation.
Even though making people feel at ease was one of Chen Yue’s strengths, Chi Xiaoman understood that she really was wasting far too much of Chen Yue’s energy over this matter.
After all, she didn’t know how to appreciate favors, was prone to acting on emotion, and was basically difficult to communicate with. She was not a good collaborator.
But even though she didn’t know how to appreciate favors,
she still couldn’t object to this view—Neon really was different.
It was a promise the three of them had made when they first knew each other from nothing. It held a special place in her heart, and in Chen Yue’s heart it might not have been just an ordinary project either.
Before, Chi Xiaoman had thought that if, ten years later, she were still asking Chen Yue for help because of that unwritten promise, or if the news were exposed because of her, and even if, when the future clearly looked full of hardship, she still naturally let Chen Yue back her up, using Chen Yue’s name to attract investment and finally dragging Chen Yue into the same mire as herself, that would be an extremely selfish request.
But now she suddenly understood that pushing Chen Yue out of that promise on her own might also be another form of selfishness. And she had to admit that, on this matter, she really didn’t have any so-called veto power.
In the end, she chose to compromise, acknowledged that she had to make a selfish choice, and thus made up her mind to do this as well as she possibly could.
Chen Yue drove in silence.
She did not initiate conversation, nor did she show much impatience toward the heavy traffic.
She was patient with everything she did.
And because she considered Chi Xiaoman was drunk, she drove steadily.
Chi Xiaoman usually got carsick, but now she did not feel uncomfortable at all.
She sat in the passenger seat.
And looked at Chen Yue in silence for a long time.
Then when they reached the next red light,
Chen Yue brought the car to a steady stop and glanced her way through the blur.
“Why are you looking at me?”
“Chi Xiaoman.” The woman called her name, her tone helpless. “You’re not regretting this again, are you?”
Chi Xiaoman shook her head. “No.”
“I won’t regret it, Chen Yue.”
Chen Yue clearly hadn’t expected her answer to be so firm. She paused for a moment before starting the car again and saying, “That’s good.”
Chi Xiaoman gave a soft “mm.”
Then she said quietly, “Chen Yue, where are you taking me?”
Chen Yue did not answer.
Chi Xiaoman thought it was strange, but she didn’t have the mind to ask further. Her alcohol tolerance really was poor; after only a few sips, she had been dizzy and muddle-headed right up to now.
So she leaned toward the car window again, trying to find a little cool air.
But before she had blown on it for very long,
the window suddenly rolled up.
Only a tiny crack was left.
The wind and rain immediately weakened.
Chi Xiaoman narrowed her eyes and, after a struggle, realized what had happened. She turned her head in silence to look at Chen Yue.
“Don’t blow too much wind after drinking.”
Chen Yue’s explanation was concise.
“You’ll get sick easily.”
Alright.
Chi Xiaoman nodded.
She didn’t insist on disagreeing with Chen Yue over something so small and making herself look obstinate and impossible to reason with.
“Sleep for a while. I’ll wake you when we get there.”
The car moved slowly; Chen Yue’s voice sounded very soft and slow too.
Chi Xiaoman still didn’t know where Chen Yue was taking her. But perhaps because she had no choice but to accept the fact that she could not make Chen Yue keep a little more distance from her, she didn’t have the energy to think about these details.
Chen Yue couldn’t possibly really drag her off to be sold; she should be sending her to the hotel Shen Baozhi had arranged for her.
Even before falling asleep, her thoughts remained heavy. Putting together a film independently was difficult; it wasn’t a matter of saying you wanted to start production today and filming could begin tomorrow.
Rather, every step from raising funds, revising the script, casting, scouting locations, to assembling a crew had to be done by someone. And because she insisted on being involved in everything, even in this half-dreaming state she was still thinking about all these things she had never personally done before.
What was more, now that Chen Yue had joined in, it also meant she had completely no way back, and couldn’t relax her guard in any aspect at all.
-
Saying she should sleep did not mean she could actually fall asleep.
The car drove all the way.
Chi Xiaoman thought about these scattered things the entire time.
In her foggy state, she sensed the car stop and, feeling a little drained, opened her eyelids to look at the unfamiliar building outside the window, and the somewhat glaring warm yellow light inside it. Instinctively, she wanted to unbuckle her seatbelt and get out.
“Thanks for today. And thank you for bringing me here—”
As she spoke, Chi Xiaoman pushed open the car door and wanted to get out. But when she pushed, it didn’t move.
Finding it strange,
she reminded Chen Yue, “Chen Yue, you didn’t unlock the door for me.”
Chen Yue looked at her, but did not move.
“Chen Yue?”
Chi Xiaoman was dizzy.
She reached out and waved it in front of Chen Yue’s face.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?”
The car interior was very dark; Chen Yue’s face was blurred into overlapping shadows by her hand, like a beautiful, affectionate phantom. Just as Chi Xiaoman was beginning to think this must be a dream, and almost reached out to pinch Chen Yue’s face to see whether she was real—
“Chi Xiaoman.”
Chen Yue called her name.
After a pause of several seconds, as if considering how to say it in a way she would more easily accept,
“Shen Baozhi told me that something happened at the hotel she arranged for you; someone is lying in wait for you there.”
Chi Xiaoman froze.
Chen Yue looked at her without speaking, but her expression seemed to carry a great deal of reluctance.
After a long while,
Chi Xiaoman let out an “oh” and said, “Lying in wait for me.”
She tilted her head back and said lightly, “Is it a private fan, or paparazzi?”
Chen Yue did not answer.
So Chi Xiaoman felt even more dizzy, and more confused.
“Could it be that someone dressed as a server got into my room again and planted cameras and stole personal belongings?”
“Or did that batch of paparazzi who’s always been following me track me all the way to Hong Kong? A drone, or what?”
“Or did my agent leak some other news again?”
After asking that question, and meeting Chen Yue’s eyes, Chi Xiaoman instinctively explained, “I want to terminate my contract. She might make some moves recently.”
The next second, she realized the atmosphere in the car had become a little heavy because of her two questions, so she tried to ease it with a joking tone. “It wouldn’t be that someone heard just as I settled things with you about Neon, and came to curse me out, would it?”
But it did not seem to help much.
Because after that, Chen Yue remained quiet for a long time.
Only then did she say softly,
“Shen Baozhi didn’t tell me the exact situation clearly. She only asked me to help take you away from there.”
So that was it.
Chi Xiaoman nodded. “Then thank you for helping.”
Then, very blankly, she looked around the car at the surrounding environment.
“Is this a new hotel?”
She couldn’t tell where this was.
Only that it was a private parking garage.
“It’s downstairs from my home.”
Chen Yue explained the situation to her very briefly.
“The privacy protection here is pretty good; paparazzi and private fans usually can’t get in.”
And when Chi Xiaoman was stunned,
she promptly explained the situation,
“You drank too much, and you don’t have a team with you. It’s not appropriate for you to be out there alone. This is the most suitable place I could think of.”
After a pause,
she chose to leave her a way out very generously. “If you think it’s inconvenient, I can take you to a friend I know—”
“No need.” Chi Xiaoman shook her head.
After all the trouble all the way to night,
and with her having basically not eaten anything, her face was already very pale by now.
“I don’t want to trouble you anymore.”
“It’s already very good of you to take me in.” In the past, Chi Xiaoman might have very stubbornly jumped straight out of the car. But now she knew her willfulness would cause a lot of trouble, not just for herself, but for Chen Yue too.
So she smiled and said,
“Then I’ll have to trouble you tonight.”
“It’s no trouble.”
Chen Yue looked at her for a moment and said, “It’s just that you may need to wait in the car for a while first.”
“Okay, I’ll wait for you.”
Chi Xiaoman thought Chen Yue was going upstairs to check everything over, or because of her arrival, she would inevitably need to tidy up some private things Chi Xiaoman couldn’t see.
Whatever the case,
she understood that she had already brought Chen Yue a lot of trouble, so she could only cooperate as much as possible.
“It won’t take long.”
Before getting out of the car,
Chen Yue seemed afraid she might feel scared, so she explained softly, “If you’re sleepy, you can close your eyes for a few more minutes.”
“Okay, thank you.”
Chi Xiaoman said that.
And then.
She watched Chen Yue get out of the car.
She also watched the figure of Chen Yue’s quickening steps shrink little by little outside the car glass, until it disappeared.
Then she stared in that direction for a very long time.
Until her eyes grew sore and swollen.
She lowered her head and rubbed them.
Then kept forcing her eyelids open.
Kept looking.
She repeated the motion many times.
Like a puppet wound by a key, able only to repeat this one set of movements.
She couldn’t even count how many times she rubbed her eyes.
Chi Xiaoman saw many figures appear, passing by the side of the car from time to time. At those moments, she would curl herself tightly into the seat so they couldn’t see her, and after they passed, she would slowly curl back up again.
Until Chen Yue’s figure reappeared.
From a vague little dot,
it grew larger and clearer and clearer.
Chi Xiaoman rubbed her eyes.
She watched Chen Yue walk over carrying a bag of things. After considering it, Chen Yue chose to come to her car door. As if afraid she had fallen asleep and would be startled, she stood there for about a minute or two before bending her fingers and knocking lightly on the door.
Even though she knew Chen Yue couldn’t see her inside the car, Chi Xiaoman still gave her a very sincere smile first.
Then she carefully pushed the car door open with both hands.
And said in a soft voice,
“You’re back?”
The moment the door opened,
Chen Yue felt that she looked like a child who had waited a long time for a parent after school, even though the parent who had promised to pick her up was very late, and perhaps all the children in the class except her had already been taken home.
But when the late parent hurried to the school gate,
she didn’t seem very angry. Her first reaction seemed to be happiness at the fact that someone had come for her.
Or perhaps she was afraid the parent wouldn’t come for her next time, and so didn’t dare throw a tantrum.
That made Chen Yue unable not to feel even more sadness. “Sorry. I’m late.”
“It’s fine.”
Chi Xiaoman explained,
“It was only ten minutes; that doesn’t count as being late.”
She got out of the car.
And saw that Chen Yue was holding a large bag of things. Curious, she wanted to help.
But Chen Yue avoided her reaching hand.
Chi Xiaoman paused.
Chen Yue explained again, “You drank alcohol; you might not be able to carry it.”
Chi Xiaoman nodded.
She didn’t speak, just followed quietly behind Chen Yue.
No one said anything during the rest of the way upstairs.
But after these past days of seeing Chen Yue continuously, and now having to go to Chen Yue’s home, Chi Xiaoman couldn’t help feeling pressure. Yet she didn’t want to seem strange, so she tried her best to keep the atmosphere natural. While waiting for the elevator, she spoke softly,
“Chen Yue.”
“Actually, everything I just said was just random talk.” She explained to Chen Yue in a relaxed tone, “Don’t take it seriously.”
Chen Yue was quiet for a moment. “Okay.”
It sounded like she believed her, and carried no doubt at all.
But after a few seconds,
she asked directly in a gentle voice, “Then which parts were false? Which parts were true?”
Chi Xiaoman was speechless.
Ding—
The elevator opened.
Chen Yue stepped in first, holding the door button for her, looking at her for a long time, then letting out an extremely soft sigh before saying,
“Let’s go upstairs first, then talk.”
-
Her pointless stubbornness had been exposed, and Chi Xiaoman turned into a doll with no will of her own, led by Chen Yue to her home.
Compared with Chi Xiaoman’s large flat in Beijing, Chen Yue’s private residence was much smaller—
Of course, not tiny, just not large either; an ordinary apartment that didn’t look like somewhere a Best Actress would live.
There were only two rooms, one screening room, one bedroom. But there was a very large floor-to-ceiling window; if the curtains were drawn open, one could probably overlook the city lights at night. The decoration looked like developer-finished standard furnishing. With no lights on, the place was very dark.
But she did not make any comment on the style or size of Chen Yue’s private home.
After entering,
Chi Xiaoman sat very stiffly in one corner of the sofa—indeed, even within the spot Chen Yue had just indicated to her, not even the hem of her clothes crossed the line.
She prepared to sleep on the sofa tonight.
And afraid Chen Yue might be too considerate and give her the only bedroom, she took the initiative to say,
“Chen Yue, I can just sleep on the sofa tonight.”
So when Chen Yue turned back, she saw Chi Xiaoman sitting on the sofa like a beautiful doll—
Her posture looked as if it had been specially trained: back straight, chin slightly raised, as though ensuring no flaw could be picked out. Even though this was a sofa where one could sit comfortably.
Her eye rims were still a little red and swollen, yet when Chen Yue turned around, she immediately lifted a smile toward her, perhaps in gratitude, or perhaps from that habit Chen Yue didn’t much approve of.
Chen Yue poured her a cup of hot water.
Chi Xiaoman took it with both hands and held it carefully, her fingers slowly reddening from the heat.
“See where you’ll feel a little more comfortable sleeping,” Chen Yue said.
“I’ll be very comfortable on the sofa.” Chi Xiaoman looked into her eyes and explained, as if trying her best to prove that this was the truth.
“Alright.” Chen Yue didn’t argue with her.
It was already very late today. Rather than these meaningless oppositions and the status quo she couldn’t change for the time being, she hoped more that Chi Xiaoman could get a belated good night’s sleep.
Or rather, she would almost prefer it if Chi Xiaoman really were a doll, best of all one that could stay forever in a place Chen Yue could see.
No need to be exposed beneath the day-and-night flash of cameras; no need to suffer any harm; no need to have personal belongings stolen by a private fan disguised as a server; no need to smile and lie to her, saying she was happy.
No need even to sit on the sofa in such discomfort; no need, after saying all those facts that made Chen Yue’s heart lurch, to turn around and apologize to Chen Yue, or offer a harmless lie, then act as though she had done something wrong and say she shouldn’t be passing negative energy on to her…
“Chen Yue?”
Rarely, she saw Chen Yue spacing out.
Chi Xiaoman called her once.
Seeing no response, she reached out and waved a hand. “Teacher Chen Yue?”
As soon as the words fell,
Chen Yue came back to herself.
Her gaze returned to Chi Xiaoman’s eyes. She looked at her for a long time, still smiling at her very gently.
“Just call me Chen Yue.”
“No need to add ‘teacher,’” Chen Yue emphasized. “I don’t like it.”
In fact, hearing Chen Yue say plainly, “I don’t like it,” was also a rare thing. Chi Xiaoman was startled for a few seconds, then nodded with a smile. “Okay.”
Chen Yue gave a “mm.”
Then,
she turned to bring over the large bag she had just bought. When she saw Chi Xiaoman again, she couldn’t help saying, “Actually, you can sit a little more comfortably.”
Chi Xiaoman froze for a few seconds. Although she wasn’t quite sure what about her was uncomfortable, she still subconsciously adjusted her posture according to Chen Yue’s instructions and said, “Okay.”
Chen Yue looked at her for a while and sighed.
She took out one item after another from the bag—
Aside from basic toiletries, there was also an eye mask, and many things Chi Xiaoman hadn’t expected.
“A mask; you can use it when you leave tomorrow.”
But Chen Yue was very patient.
Perhaps afraid Chi Xiaoman wouldn’t use them if she didn’t say so, she took them out one by one and explained them one by one.
“Insect repellent. I don’t know if you still always get bitten by mosquitoes when you sleep.”
“A thermos; if you have to leave very early tomorrow, it’s best to take some hot water with you for the road.”
“A neck pillow; if you don’t sleep well tonight, remember to sleep more on the plane tomorrow.”
“A hangover drink and vitamin C; you drank alcohol today, so if you feel unwell, you can have some.”
She took everything out and explained everything. There were still many things left in the bag.
Perhaps because it was too late and Chi Xiaoman might get sleepy, Chen Yue did not take out every single item. After saying a few lines, she seemed to remember something and went into the bedroom to find two pieces of clothing, neatly folded and placed beside the spot where Chi Xiaoman was sitting, then said patiently,
“Don’t worry; these clothes haven’t really been worn. You can wear them home tomorrow.”
As she spoke, the woman gazed at her eyes very seriously.
After a while,
she said to herself,
“Are your eyes a little too swollen? I’ll boil you an egg in a bit—”
“No need.”
Chi Xiaoman cut off Chen Yue’s words.
Then, when the other woman was stunned,
she quickly lowered her head, hiding the redness in her eyes, and said with great effort,
“This is already plenty. Don’t trouble yourself.”
“Thank you. Thank you.”
Chi Xiaoman said it twice in a rush, and was afraid that if Chen Yue kept looking at her like this, she would really cry.
So she hid from Chen Yue’s gaze and, in a very restrained way, gathered those things into her arms.
“I’ll handle it myself. You should sleep early too. Don’t delay your own things because of me.”
Chen Yue looked at her. “You don’t need to thank me.”
After a while, she said softly, “Thank you too, for the candied sweet potatoes.”
Chi Xiaoman froze. “What candied sweet potatoes?”
Chen Yue looked at her.
Chi Xiaoman still wanted to deny it.
Chen Yue sighed.
Chi Xiaoman’s parted lips closed again. After a while, she pursed them and said,
“Actually, you didn’t need to thank me. It was Shen Baozhi who asked me first.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.” Chi Xiaoman nodded.
Afraid Chen Yue would keep pressing,
she tightened her fingers and spoke first,
“I saw the photo she sent. Was it not very good?”
Not merely not good.
Chi Xiaoman even thought it didn’t look like a plate of candied sweet potatoes at all; it looked like candied charcoal.
But after all, this matter had also troubled Shen Baozhi, so those words were impossible to say directly.
Speaking of it, she also felt sorry toward Chen Yue. If, back then, she hadn’t insisted on sending over the recipe, and instead had asked Shen Baozhi to go buy something from any old Hong Kong-style tea restaurant, things would have been better than they were now.
She had somehow made trouble for two people for no reason.
Yet right now, Chen Yue thanked her, and even looked into her eyes while saying it, generously affirming this inexplicable behavior of hers: “It was good.”
That was unexpected for Chi Xiaoman. She paused, feeling helpless toward Chen Yue’s always-gentle refusal to let anyone be hurt, and said in a low voice, “Was it really good?”
Chen Yue smiled. “Really. I ate it all.”
Then she didn’t argue with her further. “Go take a shower, then sleep early.”
“Aren’t you going first?”
“You’re a guest, after all.” Chen Yue said simply. “And I still have a phone call to make.”
Arguing further might drag the night on longer.
Chi Xiaoman did not refuse.
She only planned to move quickly so as to free up space for Chen Yue to rest.
Afraid that Chi Xiaoman might be drunk and muddle-headed and do something in the bathroom, Chen Yue followed her.
She reminded her very considerately which side was hot water and which side was cold water; she also placed the shower gel and shampoo somewhere easier for her to reach, and finally set a pair of slippers outside.
—It wasn’t as though Chi Xiaoman was especially different. Chen Yue thought she would have done this for any guest. But obviously, Chi Xiaoman was also a very polite guest, not only always worried about causing trouble for her, but also always smiling softly at her whenever she looked over, which made Chen Yue want to give her even more care.
Before closing the bathroom door,
Chi Xiaoman leaned out very politely and said in a small voice to Chen Yue,
“I’m going to shower now, Chen Yue.”
Only when Chen Yue smiled and said okay did she carefully close the door—
as if afraid the sound of the door closing would be too loud and disturb her, she moved very, very lightly.
Water sounds came through.
Chen Yue stood in the living room.
Before Chi Xiaoman went into the bathroom,
she had already put away the things she took out one by one.
She stared at the sofa for a long time, then looked at the bathroom door, confirming that Chi Xiaoman would not need any help for the moment.
Then she walked into the screening room.
She sent Shen Baozhi a text asking if it was convenient, and only after getting a definite answer did she call her.
The call connected.
Shen Baozhi sounded apologetic.
“Sorry, Teacher Chen, and thank you for your trouble today.”
“No trouble.” Chen Yue reassured her. “Has the matter been resolved?”
“Not really. A few people ran off; we didn’t catch them.” Shen Baozhi sighed.
“But I did look into it a little while I was at it.”
“Xiaoman really does have quite a few private fans and paparazzi. It’s not just the people who love her; there are also people who especially hate her and follow her around. Before, there was even someone crouched outside her room, peeking through a crack in the floor with one eye, and scaring her into the hospital.”
“But her agent is really capable too. Later she sued that person into jail. At the time she charged several offenses, and the person is still being held now.”
“It’s just that now she wants to terminate the contract, and the agent may be trying to force her to renew, so she’s taken the team back in. That should be why those private fans and paparazzi all got the news and followed her to Hong Kong today.”
So those things, horrifying as they seemed to her, had only ever been the tip of the iceberg.
“Alright.”
Chen Yue couldn’t quite describe what she felt upon hearing all this. But standing before the floor-to-ceiling window, she really couldn’t speak for a long time.
Because the people who hated Chi Xiaoman, the people who hurt Chi Xiaoman, were more numerous than she had imagined.
So much so that whenever Chen Yue occasionally wanted to resent why Chi Xiaoman had become like this, she found she had no way to do so at all.
“What about you today, Teacher Chen? How are things going with Xiaoman?” Shen Baozhi asked again over the phone.
“Roughly reached a consensus.” Chen Yue closed her eyes tiredly and smiled at the person on the other end, who had worked hard for so long.
“Now your crew has the actress you wanted to invite.”
“Really? That’s wonderful!” Shen Baozhi sounded excited, as if jumping up and down on the other end, then after settling down, panted and praised her without end. “I knew if Teacher Chen made a move, there would definitely be a response!”
“How can it be that exaggerated?” Chen Yue smiled.
“It really is!” Shen Baozhi stressed.
“I’ve been in the circle for so many years and have never seen anyone not like Teacher Chen.”
Chen Yue did not speak.
Shen Baozhi seemed to grow excited because of the news.
She went on talking to herself,
“Now that you’re joining the crew, raising investment later should be much smoother than it is now. There’ll probably be a lot of actors who want to work with you and recommend themselves. Oh right, I remember there was even an investor who said he could invest immediately as long as you joined the crew. Should I find a time for my mommy and me to meet that investor and settle this matter down—”
Shen Baozhi was a producer, quick-witted. Thinking of these things first when hearing the news was perfectly natural.
But hearing her immediately think of going to negotiate together with Shen Yin, Chen Yue smiled without speaking; yet in the brief daze that followed, she couldn’t help thinking of what Chi Xiaoman had said with red-rimmed eyes two hours earlier—
I don’t want to make you my bargaining chip.
“Let’s talk about it later.” Chen Yue lowered her gaze and said to Shen Baozhi, “See how the director arranges it.”
Shen Baozhi stopped.
Seeming to realize she had been too eager, she smiled a little bashfully and said,
“Right.”
Then, to ease the atmosphere, she brought up,
“But Teacher Chen, this is the first time I’ve seen you care so much about a project. In my mind, you’ve always been the kind of person who doesn’t fight or snatch. I’ve never seen you do something like this all these years, especially coming to the address yourself to meet the director in person…”
At that,
Shen Baozhi smiled again and added, “But Shu really is worth it.”
“Mm. Xiaoyu is too.” Chen Yue said softly.
“What do you mean?”
Shen Baozhi was confused. “Could it be that the role you want to play is Xiaoyu?”
Neon was rare in the market for two reasons: first, because it was obviously an art film;
second, because the whole film had neither many satisfaction points nor explosive points, nor any intimate scenes or conflicts that could be used as gimmicks. Most of the story was supported by the complicated and affectionate emotional relationship between the two female leads.
Although the script might be revised later, at its core the emotional focal points were Shu and Xiaoyu, the two heroines.
Both were portrayed by Lang Lang with exceptional personal charm, but also with rather obvious flaws that were not especially accepted by the public today.
Shu was resilient and proud, with a clear goal; once she determined something, she would not easily regret it. She was serious to the point of being stubborn; to put it bluntly, she was too tightly wound, and had once abandoned Xiaoyu on the road many times without looking back.
Xiaoyu was innocent and pretty, a little foolish but full of life, able to chase after a car while biting a hamburger for ten miles. Yet because she was too brave, not self-interested enough, and too willing to put others first, she was easily criticized as “stupid.”
Both were typical idealists in a society of interests, and neither role was easy to play.
If acted well, it was a plus.
If acted badly, not only would the actor’s reputation suffer, but the role would be dragged down too. In such circumstances, casting was especially important, and could even be said to decide the film’s very lifeline.
Still, anyone who carefully read the script would think Chen Yue suited Shu much more.
Including Lang Lang back then.
“I’m not trying to play Xiaoyu.” After a long while, Chen Yue said to Shen Baozhi on the phone.
“That’s good.”
Shen Baozhi let out a sigh of relief. “I thought Xiaoman wanted to play Xiaoyu.”
Her tone was joking. “What if you two fought over it? That would be bad.”
“Why would you think that?” Chen Yue asked softly.
“Think what? That you two would fight over it?” It was a natural follow-up question, but Shen Baozhi got caught on it. After a long reaction, she said in a muddled way,
“Right, why did I think Xiaoman wanted to play it too?”
“She really never said that.” Shen Baozhi reviewed it to herself.
“Could it be because Xiaoman and Xiaoyu are too much alike?”
“Then do you think they are alike?”
“Not alike.”
That was Shen Baozhi’s first reaction.
But after a moment of silence,
she couldn’t help saying, “Maybe a little alike.”
“Mm.” Chen Yue lowered her eyes and said very softly, “Actually, she used to be very much like her.”
Even Lang Lang later honestly admitted that, when she spent years revising the script over and over to give the characters more fullness and realism, many of the details in the script came from observing crowds while hiding at the train station, and that the Xiaoyu role had been given many traits that only the twenty-year-old Chi Xiaoman possessed.
For example, whenever they were happy, both of them would suddenly do a handstand. The reason was that in those years there had been a long-running drama; a line in it roughly said that when people cry, they should remember to do a handstand, and then the tears won’t fall.[1]
But Chi Xiaoman would say—
Actually, when you’re happy is exactly when you should do a handstand. Because then, happiness won’t flow out of your head so quickly.
“Is that so?” For some reason, Shen Baozhi also quieted down.
“I just think,”
“If Xiaoman used to have Xiaoyu’s kind of personality, then she must have gone through a lot by now.”
Chen Yue did not deny Shen Baozhi’s words.
In fact, she had to accept that the twenty-year-old Chi Xiaoman had already grown into a form she no longer recognized, becoming the glittering star she often saw now.
But she still hoped that the Chi Xiaoman she knew, the one she had seen, the one she had loved, would not disappear completely.
And over the phone,
Shen Baozhi seemed only then to realize belatedly something else, hesitating before asking, “Teacher Chen, were you and Xiaoman very familiar before?”
“Mm.” At this point, Chen Yue did not deny that she and Chi Xiaoman had known each other in the past. “Actually, we’ve known each other for a very long time.”
“No wonder.”
“No wonder what?”
“Ah—”
Shen Baozhi’s words came out a little muddled. “Nothing, I was just guessing.”
She quickly changed the subject.
“Then why didn’t you keep in touch later?”
It was probably just a casual question; there was no need to answer if she didn’t want to.
Chen Yue looked down from the floor-to-ceiling window at the mottled night scenery outside. The wind and night at this height were both vast and clear, seeming as though they would never go out.
She smiled slowly and said softly, “Maybe because I eventually came to Hong Kong.”
“So that’s how it was.” Shen Baozhi sounded a bit awkward, perhaps realizing from Chen Yue’s slower speech that she had brought up something she shouldn’t have asked. She didn’t continue pressing, and instead found an excuse to end the call. “Then Teacher Chen, you should rest well first. I won’t disturb you.”
The call ended.
Chen Yue stood in the screening room for a very long time.
Only then did she realize she had not turned on the lights, and there had been no movement outside the door for quite some time either.
She quietly stood in the wind for a while, then closed the window.
After digesting the information she had gotten from Shen Baozhi, she turned around and opened the door—
And then discovered.
Chi Xiaoman had already finished her shower and come out.
Her hair had not been blown dry, still damp and clinging to the sides of her face.
She was obediently wearing the pajamas Chen Yue had given her, and her slippers were placed neatly beside the sofa.
She sat quietly in that corner of the sofa, still with her posture as correct as a doll.
Both hands rested on her knees, and in her palms she held a dead-black-screen phone.
As if it had no battery, but she still didn’t dare use Chen Yue’s charger without permission in her space.
When she noticed Chen Yue coming out,
Chi Xiaoman came back to herself from her daze.
She immediately curved her eyes into a smile at Chen Yue and said softly,
“So you were still here.”
She seemed to be making a casual joke, but accidentally revealed the relief hidden beneath it.
“I thought maybe because you hated me too much, you’d gone out to stay somewhere else.”
Because her tone was so soft, it sounded almost like she was acting spoiled.
But in truth, she wasn’t.
Her eye rims looked moist, with a great deal of spreading mist inside.
Still not tears.
Anyone could tell Chi Xiaoman was in a very bad state now; there was nothing about her that could make someone think of her old self.
Actually, Chen Yue did not know whether intervening would bring good results or bad.
She also did not know whether her support and help still had any effect for Chi Xiaoman.
But at the very least, she hoped that when Chi Xiaoman was in such an unbearable state, and yet so bravely chose to do this, she would not just be one more bystander among many.
Because the thing she had said on the phone last time about being separated twice had been a moment of anger, only because she wasn’t used to it, because she wanted Chi Xiaoman not to become still water that could not stir a ripple. In her heart she knew well that they had only broken up peacefully in the end; only, when people are powerless, they inevitably harbor resentment, resenting themselves as well as the other person.
So she walked toward Chi Xiaoman.
Watching Chi Xiaoman’s soft eyes slowly turn to meet hers, she was quiet for a moment, then slowly said,
“Chi Xiaoman, I don’t hate you that much.”
She also did not want Chi Xiaoman to mistakenly believe that this world held many people who truly hated her. And that Chen Yue, who seemed to have the most right to resent her, had never been one of them.
After all, she had always hoped that, at least by her side, Chi Xiaoman could sleep well.
[Author’s Note]
On time with Little Neon’s twenty-first day [sunglasses]
[1] The drama is Meteor Garden
TL Note:
private fans (私生): obsessive fans who stalk celebrities and intrude on their private lives.