2023

How long had it been since Chen Yue and she had overlapped at all?

Chi Xiaoman couldn’t quite remember.

But she did remember this:

After she and Chen Yue broke up, nine years passed, and in those years they actually ran into each other plenty of times in this industry.

But every time, she found a way to dodge her, doing her best to avoid ending up in the same place as Chen Yue.

Their paths had originally been different, and Chen Yue was the type to keep an especially low profile, so there were never all that many public occasions where they might have crossed paths.

The one that stood out most was the last time; they had happened to attend the same award ceremony.

Chi Xiaoman thought that at the very least, she should apologize to Chen Yue for that Weibo post from back then, so she spent several days preparing in advance, not just scheduling-wise, but mentally as well.

Who would have thought that on that day, the business shoot during the day got delayed because the photographer was late, and by the time she nervously dragged her gown to the venue, she heard that Chen Yue had already received her award and left to do volunteer work in Nepal.

After that, Chen Yue disappeared for several years.

The next time there was any news, she came back with The Clouds of Zhou Yun, the film that had won her the Golden Image Award for Best Actress.

And once again,

she slammed headfirst into this pile of mess that was Chi Xiaoman.

Maybe the sense of reality that came with a living, breathing person was stronger than a summer-night rainstorm, and stronger than an old film from seven or eight years ago.

As Chen Yue’s face drew closer in the dim hospital room, becoming clearer little by little, in that brief yet endlessly stretched second, countless fragments suddenly flooded Chi Xiaoman’s mind——

Summer of 2014. Their final breakup had already been in Hong Kong; before leaving, she still made the woman a bowl of scallion noodle soup with a poached egg. Chen Yue looked at the bowl, where there were still two poached eggs this time, and said to her,

“Chi Xiaoman, I wish you a bright future.”

Summer of 2013. Headlights spilled through the garage; the projector they had scraped together money to buy for watching movies cast a blue glow on the old yellowed wall. They were watching the winning film for the latest Golden Image Best Actress.

On a whim, Chi Xiaoman grabbed the projector remote like a microphone, leaned up to Chen Yue’s chin, and asked her, Best Actress, will I be in your acceptance speech in the future?

Chen Yue used her soft fingers to flick her nose and smiled as she said, That depends on your performance then, big star.

The damp, dim basement was less than fifteen square meters, and it never saw sunlight.

Dreams like this.

They had shared them countless times.

2023.

On the top floor of a Beijing hospital, in a VIP ward, daylight would flood in as soon as morning came.

The movie on the television had finished at some point.

Chen Yue stood at the foot of the bed, facing Chi Xiaoman from a distance that was neither near nor far, and said across the room,

“I came to visit.”

Chi Xiaoman froze.

Maybe there were too many fragments rushing through her head, like cut-up film frames flashing across her nerve endings. Looking at Chen Yue right in front of her, she almost blurted out: Visit me?

But Chen Yue probably didn’t want her to misunderstand.

She explained first,

“A friend of mine got into a bit of an accident and is recuperating in this hospital.”

Chi Xiaoman swallowed her words back down.

She had imagined countless scenes of talking face-to-face with Chen Yue again.

But she had never imagined it would be like this, with her lying in the hospital bed as pitifully as a fish with its spine pulled out.

And Chen Yue standing at the foot of the bed, looking at her with an expression she couldn’t tell was pity or distance.

For a moment, Chi Xiaoman still hadn’t come back to herself.

She wanted to push herself up from the bed, at least so Chen Yue wouldn’t keep looking at her with that vague, unreadable gaze.

But her injury was no small matter.

When a person panicked, they always ended up making a mess.

The moment she used force with her hand, a needle-sharp pain shot through her neck.

Chi Xiaoman sucked in a sharp breath.

Chen Yue hurried over.

“You’re okay——”

She looked like she was about to reach out and help her.

But by then,

Chi Xiaoman had already forced herself to sit steady against the headboard.

“I’m fine.” She leaned back with effort against the pillow. This was the first thing she had said to Chen Yue in all these years.

Realizing that so many years had passed, and there were too many layers of distance between them; this might be the only chance she had to act properly about all the trouble she had caused Chen Yue, from deliberately riding her popularity to making a scene on both occasions when Chen Yue won Best Actress.

So after that, she forced a smile at Chen Yue.

“I just didn’t expect you’d still come up to see me.”

Chen Yue’s hand was still hanging in midair.

She paused for a moment, then slowly curled her fingers inward and withdrew her hand, letting it fall back to her side.

She stopped again.

Maybe realizing that her shadow was covering Chi Xiaoman’s upper body, she shifted a little farther away.

“We happened to run into each other in the elevator.”

Chen Yue took two steps back, looking at her from the foot of the bed again; her voice was very slow.

Then she smiled softly.

“Not coming up to take a look wouldn’t have been quite right either.”

Chen Yue was just that kind of person.

Generous with others, mature in the way she handled things, measured in her conduct; with her around, people always felt as if a spring breeze had passed by.

Even when she happened to run into her old lover, Chi Xiaoman, the Chi Xiaoman who always stole the spotlight and always caused her trouble, the first thing she said wasn’t resentment or blame.

“I…”

And the way Chi Xiaoman was lying in the hospital bed clearly wasn’t suited to reunion scenes. She was awkwardly reclined, her head tilted back at an angle, forcing her eyes wide open, trying to make out Chen Yue’s expression, only to realize she could neither avoid Chen Yue’s concerned gaze nor tell clearly——

At this moment, what she most wanted to say to Chen Yue was the “sorry” she hadn’t had the chance to say at the last award ceremony, or the “thank you” she hadn’t managed to say in the elevator just now.

In the silence, too many words got stuck in her throat.

Her eyes felt hot, and in the flurry of confusion, she said something very pale and weak,

“The hair was cut by the hairstylist.”

“Do you want me to send you her business card?”

Chen Yue froze for a moment.

The moment the words left her mouth, Chi Xiaoman was alarmed too.

Of all the things she could have said, why did she pick that one? She really did seem exactly like that scatterbrained version of herself from her early twenties; after all these years, she hadn’t changed much at all.

But the words were already out.

Saying anything else now would be useless.

Chi Xiaoman awkwardly clenched the already rumpled bedsheet. She wasn’t a quiet person; after so many years in the industry, she had long since learned how to navigate people and relationships.

But in front of Chen Yue, why did all of that suddenly stop mattering?

Just as she was regretting it and wanting to speak again to smooth things over——

Chen Yue smiled.

Her laugh was soft and gentle.

Like water flowing past; unhurried, as if nothing had changed compared to before.

After she finished smiling,

she said to her,

“Chi Xiaoman, how come you still haven’t changed?”

It was impossible to tell whether that was praise or polite courtesy.

Chi Xiaoman was silent. She felt she should deny it, but she didn’t speak, and she didn’t dare let her gaze land recklessly on Chen Yue’s face to carefully observe how the woman had changed over all these years.

Even though at the last award ceremony in Beijing, because of the traffic jam and because she desperately wanted to say that apology properly, she had jumped out of the car, thrown a hoodie over her gown, pulled up a mask, and run two kilometers through the winter night wind that cut like knives……

In the end, the one who crouched by the roadside with a red, frozen face and received the news that Chen Yue had gone abroad was also her.

But now that she had really seen Chen Yue standing alive in front of her, Chi Xiaoman only felt dazed, too unsettled to say anything.

She didn’t speak.

Chen Yue didn’t go on either.

They had been apart for nine years.

Time had already piled up to several times the length of the time they had been together.

With so many things changed beyond recognition in between, neither of them was familiar with the other anymore.

After a courteous exchange of greetings, there was nothing more to say.

“Since you’re fine, I’ll go?” Chen Yue asked first in the stillness.

“…Okay.”

Chi Xiaoman lowered her gaze.

It landed on Chen Yue’s eyes under the lamplight.

Then she quickly looked up again, stared at the ceiling for a while, and said with great difficulty,

“Be careful on the way.”

As soon as she said it, the stabbing pain came back in her neck, like countless needles piercing flesh and blood.

On impulse, she added,

“Don’t crash your car like I did.”

She used a joking tone.

Because she wanted to show Chen Yue that she was perfectly composed.

“Okay.”

Chen Yue agreed.

She didn’t say anything else, not even to tease her for being childish.

Only then did Chi Xiaoman suddenly realize that Chen Yue had never even sat down since coming in; she must have already figured she wouldn’t be staying long in the ward.

Chen Yue lifted a foot.

Chi Xiaoman stared at the ceiling and said nothing.

Chen Yue suddenly stopped.

Chi Xiaoman didn’t look at her.

Chen Yue changed direction; it seemed she was walking back toward Chi Xiaoman.

One step, two steps.

She stopped at a point even closer than before.

Chi Xiaoman lay on the hospital bed.

Feeling herself once again wrapped in the woman’s shadow, she forced a smile toward Chen Yue, who had suddenly come closer.

“What is it?”

Chen Yue looked down at her for a while.

Her gaze seemed very blurred in the dim light.

“Are you in a lot of pain?”

Her voice was very low. “Why are you sweating so much?”

Chi Xiaoman froze.

As if to confirm Chen Yue’s words.

A bead of sweat slid from the tail of her brow to the corner of her eye, stinging so badly that the corner of her eye gradually turned red.

She blinked hard, struggling to ease it.

When she opened her eyes again,

she saw Chen Yue’s raised hand hanging in midair——

The motion of blinking slowly came to a stop; the salty bead of sweat slid from the corner of her eye and seeped into the corner of her mouth.

Chi Xiaoman looked at Chen Yue’s face, so close she could have reached out and touched it.

Her heart tightened. Subconsciously avoiding those eyes of Chen Yue’s that were always soft with feeling, she spoke again,

“It’s very late. You should go see your friend sooner.”

Chen Yue smiled. “Okay.”

She withdrew her hand.

Then she pulled a tissue from the side and handed it to her. “Wipe it off. Sweat getting into your eyes will feel very uncomfortable.”

“If it hurts, remember to call the doctor.”

“Don’t be afraid to take medicine, and don’t just endure the pain.”

In that soft voice, she said this to Chi Xiaoman.

Then she truly turned around.

Chi Xiaoman held the tissue Chen Yue had given her, listening to Chen Yue’s footsteps recede farther and farther away.

It was only just before Chen Yue stepped out of the ward, and before Chi Xiaoman had even realized it, that her gaze had already fallen on Chen Yue’s back. Then she heard her own voice, speaking to Chen Yue,

“Congratulations.”

Chen Yue turned back to look at her. “Congratulations for what?”

Chi Xiaoman looked back at her too; maybe because of the distance, she didn’t feel the same degree of heartache as before.

Instead, she became the smooth-talking Chi Xiaoman she usually was, and smiled at Chen Yue.

“Best Actress.”

Chen Yue paused for a moment.

Then she smiled back. “Then should I also say congratulations?”

“To me?”

Chi Xiaoman found it surprising, and funny too. “What do I have worth congratulating right now?”

“Didn’t you say you’re going to make a movie?” Chen Yue asked.

She also stood at the ward door and looked at her for a long time.

So long that in a daze, Chi Xiaoman almost mistook it for Chen Yue not looking at her current self at all, but at the dazzling person she had once been.

Then she heard Chen Yue call her softly again,

“Big star.”

[Author’s Note]

[glasses][glasses][glasses] Day three of updating little Neon