2023

The gale and pounding rain that had battered the city for two straight days seemed to have stopped by morning, but the apartment was still dim and quiet.

Chi Xiaoman didn’t know how long she had slept.

She braced herself on the sofa and sat up, a little unsteady.

After a whole night of emotional exhaustion, she sat there for a while, hand over her face, dazed. Only then did she force her eyelids open and look at Chen Yue. “What did you say?”

She thought she might not have heard Chen Yue clearly just now.

The apartment was shadowed and vague.

Chen Yue stood in front of her and, ever since she woke up, hadn’t moved for a long time; she still looked like a gray shadow.

After a while, she called her the same way she had just now. “Xiaoman.”

And in that same soft voice, “Congratulations on passing the audition.”

Chi Xiaoman’s motion of rubbing her eyes froze.

She covered her eyes with her palm.

After a long time, she lowered her hand. Still a little dazed, she tightened her fingers around her knee and gave a laugh.

“So quickly?”

“Chen Yue, don’t tease me.”

Maybe because she had just woken up, her second sentence came out soft and airy, almost like a spoiled complaint.

Chi Xiaoman herself realized it, so she pressed her lips together and added, “How can they decide on a role this quickly?”

“Why not?”

Chen Yue didn’t move closer. She lowered her eyes and looked at Chi Xiaoman from a step away, as if studying her reaction. Her expression was gentle. “When they picked me back then, I didn’t even have an audition tape or any audition scenes sent in.”

“You’re different,” Chi Xiaoman said instinctively.

“We’re both actors. What’s so different?”

Chi Xiaoman was left speechless by that single sentence.

Even if she wasn’t fully awake now, she should understand that Chen Yue was telling the truth. She felt both incredible disbelief and helplessness; all she could do was look at Chen Yue uncertainly.

“You… you’re serious?”

Chen Yue looked at her, her eyes seeming to ask, Why would you think that isn’t true?

But she only kept looking at Chi Xiaoman. In the end, perhaps after considering something, she smiled and still chose to give her a direct answer. “Mm. Serious.”

Chi Xiaoman blinked, dazed, and clenched her fingers.

She wanted to speak.

In the end, though, she only parted her lips, still too tense to relax.

Nothing came out.

Before she went to sleep, she hadn’t dared to hope that she’d wake up to an answer. But now that she was awake, Chen Yue was standing right in front of her, so close she could have reached out and touched her; she seemed like a softhearted, kind judge, handing her not only the result the moment the verdict was delivered, but also a good one.

“Don’t worry; it wasn’t just my opinion.” Chen Yue probably didn’t want her to misunderstand, so she explained in detail.

“Baozhi called me before and talked it over with me. She was also very certain about your audition scenes. She’s probably gone to find other people to discuss it too. If you open your phone now, you might see a message from her after she met with the casting director.”

“They’re all very satisfied with you, and they’ve basically reached a consensus that you’re the most suitable Xiaoyu.”

Chi Xiaoman blinked blankly.

The emotional exhaustion had left her eyes sore and swollen, and it also left her unable to speak.

To be honest, she had stayed up all night, and even now her mind was still sluggish. Hearing Chen Yue carefully explain the whole process to her, she still found it unbelievable and didn’t know what reaction would be most appropriate.

But fortunately.

The first person to tell her this news was Chen Yue.

Chen Yue would not blame her for not reacting well.

Chen Yue was a very tolerant person.

So.

While she was still at a loss after hearing the news.

Chen Yue slowly walked over again.

Once more, just like when she woke up a moment ago.

She used her soft palm to pat her head.

Then she looked at her patiently and said in a soft voice,

“Xiaoman, you’re amazing.”

-

She couldn’t remember how long it had been since she’d heard such a direct sentence that clearly belonged to the category of praise.

In this situation.

Chi Xiaoman could hardly meet Chen Yue’s eyes, and she almost cried again out of sheer lack of backbone.

But because she had spent the whole night pouring so much emotion into acting out a crying scene.

Now that she was awake,

there wasn’t much emotion left that belonged to her own self.

So at that moment.

She only worked hard to keep the corners of her mouth straight and tried her best to look Chen Yue in the eye; she didn’t smile, and she didn’t cry. Pale and worn out, she said softly,

“Thank you, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Chen Yue slowly withdrew her hand and gave her a faint smile.

The woman’s shadow gradually moved farther away.

In the dim light, Chi Xiaoman let out a breath that was very hidden and not entirely honest—not because of Chen Yue.

It was because compared with the past, she really had changed a great deal; she wasn’t good at showing desire, joy, or ease in front of anyone. She felt that desire and happiness revealed at the same time were shameful; she felt that once happiness was seen, it would disappear very quickly.

“Xiaoman.” But Chen Yue called her.

“What is it?” Chi Xiaoman immediately tensed up.

Chen Yue looked at her. “I said that on your own behalf.”

“What?”

“You’re welcome.” Chen Yue said that while still looking at her from within the gray light.

Chi Xiaoman froze.

Chen Yue hadn’t gone very far.

She had only walked to a distance that no longer made her so tense, and then stopped.

“Because the person you should thank most is yourself.”

She looked at her without smiling, as if stating the most ordinary fact in the world.

“The person who most deserves to say ‘you’re welcome’ to you right now…”

But her voice was swallowed into the shadows, so what came through instead sounded full of warmth.

“It’s actually you, too.”

-

After that sentence, Chi Xiaoman fell silent.

Chen Yue didn’t make things difficult for her either; she didn’t insist that she say it aloud. Instead, she went to the kitchen, apparently planning to make her another breakfast that wasn’t much different from yesterday’s.

Compared with Chi Xiaoman’s large apartment with many rooms, Chen Yue’s place was almost completely visible at a glance.

The open kitchen left Chi Xiaoman with very little room to hide from Chen Yue’s figure.

But since the apartment’s owner had already gotten up, it wouldn’t be right for her to keep lounging on the sofa.

Chi Xiaoman went into the bathroom and washed her face.

Looking at herself in the mirror, exhausted to the point of looking haggard after these two days, she sorted through her emotions.

Then she came back out.

Chen Yue was already sitting at the dining table waiting for her.

So she walked over.

Looking at the plate—bread, eggs, and tomatoes, identical to yesterday morning’s…

Chi Xiaoman felt a little at a loss.

“Eat first,” Chen Yue said.

Chi Xiaoman opened her dry lips. “Okay.”

Chen Yue didn’t say anything else.

She seemed to know Chi Xiaoman had used up too much of herself last night, so she simply handled the food in silence—her movements were very slow, and it was hard to tell whether that was because she cared too much about elegant manners or because she had been well brought up since childhood. It was more like she felt that whatever she ate was simply food, so she didn’t pay much attention to what was in front of her.

But halfway through, Chen Yue seemed to think of something. She took a sip of milk and waited until Chi Xiaoman had swallowed what was in her mouth.

Only then did she hesitate and ask, “You won’t have much appetite if you eat the same thing today and yesterday, right?”

Chi Xiaoman paused.

“No.” She shook her head and said to Chen Yue.

“That’s good.” Chen Yue nodded.

She didn’t continue the topic; she only quietly kept eating.

“What about you?” After taking two bites, Chi Xiaoman couldn’t help asking, “Do you eat the same thing every day?”

Chen Yue stopped.

Chi Xiaoman hesitated a little. “Have you never thought about hiring a lifestyle assistant or someone who can cook?”

“I eat pretty much the same things.” Chen Yue thought about it and smiled at her. “There’s no need to hire an assistant.”

She said lightly, “Anyway, that’s just how I like to eat.”

After a pause, “It won’t change for a long time.”

That was true. To put it plainly, Chen Yue was someone with very little desire for anything. Chi Xiaoman had never seen her especially love anything or want anything badly. Maybe that hadn’t changed from the time she was twenty to the time she was thirty.

And since Chi Xiaoman wasn’t really in a position to manage her too much now, she could only hesitate and nod, saying softly,

“Sometimes changing up your tastes can also make your nutrition more balanced.”

Chen Yue’s movements paused.

Chi Xiaoman was afraid she’d think she was lecturing her, so she quickly added, “But it’s still up to your own tastes; I’m just saying it casually.”

“I know.” Chen Yue didn’t seem angry at her extra comment. After a moment, she nodded. “Okay.”

The simple exchange about food ended there.

After breakfast, which wasn’t exactly on time, Chi Xiaoman took the initiative to clear the plates. After the dishwasher finished its cycle, she hesitated and looked outside at the weather.

The typhoon seemed to have stopped.

Though the air and streets still looked damp, she didn’t need to keep staying at Chen Yue’s place.

After the meal, Chen Yue didn’t immediately go into the screening room to watch a movie.

She drew open the curtains, sat down in that gray chair, and put on her thick-rimmed glasses. She was reading, wearing a brown set of loungewear. Her whole body looked thin and light. In the not-so-good weather, her temperament was soft, yet paradoxically she also looked like a wisp of smoke that might drift away at any moment.

Chi Xiaoman walked over. “Chen Yue, thanks for taking care of me these past few days.”

Chen Yue’s page-turning motion paused.

She put the book on her lap and looked at Chi Xiaoman without surprise. “You’re leaving?”

“Mm.”

To be honest, when this typhoon first rolled in, Chi Xiaoman had never imagined that once it was over, her life would change so much, nor had she thought she’d spend two days and two nights alone indoors with Chen Yue.

For Chi Xiaoman herself, those two days and two nights might have been a good change, even a precious opportunity she’d fought for.

But for Chen Yue, it had to have been more disturbance than peace. Chi Xiaoman knew she especially liked quiet, and she also knew she was someone who softened easily and handled things thoughtfully.

Chen Yue might not admit that she had been inconvenienced by her.

But Chi Xiaoman still felt apologetic. “I just checked my flight. There’s one this afternoon back to Beijing.”

She told Chen Yue, “I’ve really bothered you for so many days. I’m sorry.”

“If you feel sorry,” Chen Yue looked at her from by the window; her expression was impossible to read in the dim, saturated light, “then next time I come to Beijing, will you take me in like this?”

Chi Xiaoman didn’t react at first.

Chen Yue laughed again. “I’m kidding.”

“Don’t overthink it.” She added gently, then put the book on the small side table and stood up. “I’ll take you to the airport.”

She took two steps closer, then noticed Chi Xiaoman seemed about to refuse, so she stopped and asked softly, “Or do you want me to call Baozhi to pick you up?”

Chi Xiaoman was still a little muddled and didn’t understand why she suddenly brought up Shen Baozhi. But she still instinctively explained, “I didn’t tell her I was at your place. She thinks I went back the day before yesterday.”

As she said that, she looked at the damp air outside and added, “I can just take a taxi myself later.”

Maybe it was just an illusion, but after that explanation, Chen Yue’s voice returned to normal and no longer sounded as faint as before. “Then I’ll take you.”

Chi Xiaoman wanted to say something else.

But Chen Yue was very persistent. “Taking a taxi alone isn’t very convenient.”

As if seeing through her pretense of stubbornness, she said softly, “And you’ve already troubled me this much.”

“Adding one more time won’t change anything.”

Actually, Chen Yue was right.

It was also from that moment that Chi Xiaoman understood that she and Chen Yue were now in a relationship where they would be collaborating and acting opposite each other; there would be no shortage of times they had to trouble one another throughout the entire filming process. Though there were still several months before shooting started, they were in Beijing and Hong Kong respectively. A few months looked long, but could pass in the blink of an eye.

At the very least, she ought to act more naturally in front of Chen Yue.

No matter what, she couldn’t affect the filming of the movie.

So Chi Xiaoman took a breath.

She resolved to learn from Chen Yue and forget their old, unpleasant past.

Then she smiled at Chen Yue and said,

“Okay, thank you.”

-

In the end, they had only been together for one year; the time was short. It was only because that summer had been so hot that it left such a deep impression.

If they weren’t in this circle, if they couldn’t hear news of each other at every moment… then if they met again, Chi Xiaoman thought she might have done better.

At the very least, she would have been more generous, and she wouldn’t have been so clingy and muddled, always standing on the opposite side from Chen Yue over whether to play Shu or to play Xiaoyu, and having so many disagreements with her.

Maybe in that kind of situation, Chi Xiaoman would have become a steady, generous, and proper person.

She wouldn’t have needed Chen Yue to guide her through everything, or even to spend energy confronting her and persuading her.

But because their situation was what it was, Chi Xiaoman could only be herself.

She could only place her hopes on the next time she met Chen Yue, and wish that she would do better then.

She just didn’t know when that next meeting would be.

In the car on the way to the airport.

Chi Xiaoman checked the messages Shen Baozhi had sent her—the other woman really did seem extremely satisfied with her performance, sending a flood of enthusiastic, glowing praise, as if full of regret that she hadn’t realized earlier that the most suitable Xiaoyu had always been right beside her.

To be fair.

Chi Xiaoman envied Shen Baozhi.

Because Shen Baozhi was always the kind of person who could say things in an exaggerated way, and who was brave enough to say them in an exaggerated way.

By comparison, Chi Xiaoman’s reply to her was much more cautious:

[Thank you, thank you.]

[Actually, we can also refer to your mommy’s opinion.]

Shen Baozhi thought she was weird: [Why should we refer to my mommy’s opinion?]

[She’s an agent, not part of our crew.]

Chi Xiaoman pressed her lips together, glanced at Chen Yue, who was concentrating on driving, and continued typing:

[After all, she’s Chen-laoshi’s agent.]

[That works too.] Shen Baozhi didn’t ask much about that, and instead went on discussing the details of the audition scenes with her. From the way she talked, it didn’t seem like she was satisfied because Chi Xiaoman was Chi Xiaoman; rather, she seemed to particularly like how this actress handled the last line in the audition scene.

That, in turn, finally made Chi Xiaoman feel a little more relaxed.

The car slowly headed toward the airport.

Shen Baozhi seemed to have many details she wanted to discuss and suddenly called her on video.

In that instant, Chi Xiaoman’s palms went numb; she hurriedly glanced at Chen Yue, who was driving.

Chen Yue turned her profile toward her and smiled. “It’s fine. You can answer it.”

“No need.” Chi Xiaoman still hung up the call, while typing an explanation to Shen Baozhi and explaining to Chen Yue at the same time, “It was Baozhi calling. I can just talk to her on WeChat.”

“Okay.” Chen Yue nodded. After a few seconds, she said, “What do you need to say?”

Chi Xiaoman didn’t react at first.

Chen Yue’s tone was natural, soft and light. “Is it that inconvenient?”

Chi Xiaoman froze.

“What I mean is…” At a red light, Chen Yue lowered her eyes. “You can answer it. I won’t disturb you.”

“I don’t think you’d be disturbing us.” Chi Xiaoman was afraid Chen Yue would misunderstand, since so many of her matters were only discussed with Shen Baozhi. After all, they were in the same crew, and when the movie had almost failed to get off the ground at the beginning, it had been Chen Yue supporting her all along. Favoring one person over another really wouldn’t make anyone happy, so she could only explain, “I’m just afraid of disturbing you.”

“Why do you think it would disturb me?” Chen Yue seemed to find that strange.

“You…” Chi Xiaoman hesitated a little. “Aren’t you resting during this period?”

Chen Yue nodded, as if she understood what she meant. After a moment, she said slowly,

“It won’t disturb me.”

Chi Xiaoman rubbed the edge of her phone and said nothing.

“You can send many things to me.”

Chen Yue told her, “When Baozhi is too busy to handle something, I can help too.”

Her attitude was the opposite of what Chi Xiaoman had expected.

But since Chen Yue wanted to be more involved in the movie, Chi Xiaoman had no intention of objecting. So she nodded and said, “Okay.”

“I’ll talk to you more in the future.”

Just after she said that.

Her palm vibrated again.

Chi Xiaoman looked down and found that the explanation she had just been typing to Shen Baozhi hadn’t been sent in time, and Shen Baozhi had called again.

She looked at Chen Yue.

Chen Yue didn’t say anything; her expression was natural.

After thinking about it, Chi Xiaoman still answered Shen Baozhi’s call.

“Xiaoman?” Shen Baozhi’s voice sounded a little worried. “Why haven’t you been answering my calls?”

“Nothing.” Afraid of affecting Chen Yue’s driving, Chi Xiaoman lowered her voice to explain, “I’m in the car.”

“Okay.” Shen Baozhi let out a breath. “I thought something happened to you.”

“How could something happen so easily?” Chi Xiaoman laughed.

“True.” Shen Baozhi laughed too, then brought it up again. “But why is your voice so soft?”

“Is it soft?” Chi Xiaoman glanced at Chen Yue and had no choice but to raise her volume a little. “Maybe the reception’s not good.”

“Really?” Shen Baozhi didn’t doubt it, and continued talking with her about the details of the audition scene, about the other actors after the lead was set. As they talked, she seemed to open the audition clip and watch it again, then remembered something and let out an “eh,” a little hesitant. “Xiaoman…”

“What is it? Is there a problem?” Chi Xiaoman tensed up.

“There’s no problem.” Shen Baozhi seemed to be dragging the progress bar of the audition clip. After a while, she seemed to think she was overthinking it and laughed. “It should be that I saw it wrong.”

In a relaxed tone, she said, “I thought I’d seen that bathroom background somewhere before.”

The volume of the phone call wasn’t loud. Chi Xiaoman also couldn’t tell whether Chen Yue beside her had heard that sentence.

She looked nervously at Chen Yue—

The other woman’s expression didn’t change at all. She probably hadn’t heard it.

So after a moment of silence, Chi Xiaoman smiled gently and said to Shen Baozhi,

“I’m not at home.”

“And these days, a lot of places are decorated similarly. You probably saw it wrong.”

“Probably.” Shen Baozhi didn’t doubt her and muttered, “Then maybe it was a hotel I went to before?”

The call didn’t last much longer in the end; Chi Xiaoman found an excuse to hang up.

Maybe because of that concealment just now, after ending the call, she subconsciously looked at Chen Yue—

Chen Yue didn’t speak. She quietly looked at the street signs ahead. She didn’t seem to have listened carefully to her call, or maybe she had heard it and simply didn’t feel unhappy because of it.

Chi Xiaoman relaxed a little and remembered what Chen Yue had said earlier, so she briefly summarized the conversation for Chen Yue. “Baozhi said she already discussed it with the casting director too; they can set me as the lead for Xiaoyu.”

“Okay.” Chen Yue’s voice was gentle, with no change from before the call.

Chi Xiaoman thought about it and continued,

“During the next period, we’ll get the casting and locations sorted out. Don’t worry; the movie will start shooting on time.”

“Okay.” Chen Yue answered at the same speed as before.

Chi Xiaoman let out a quiet “Mm,” wanting to stop there, but the car was too quiet, so she took the initiative again.

“Before filming starts, we still need to prepare the shooting locations and equipment, and confirm the costumes, props, and makeup. So Baozhi will probably stay in Beijing for these months, but you can rest in Hong Kong for a while first. There’s no rush. Our shooting plan is to start in Beijing with the rental-house portion, then move to Guizhou for the road-trip portion, and finally go to Hong Kong…”

“Chi Xiaoman.” Chen Yue interrupted her, calling her by her full name.

“Mm?” Chi Xiaoman thought she had something formal to say.

But Chen Yue pulled the car over.

After a quiet moment.

Her fingers brushing the edge of the steering wheel, she asked softly, “If Baozhi comes to Beijing, would you let her stay at your place too?”

“What did you say?” Chi Xiaoman stared.

Chen Yue turned her face toward her, smiled, and didn’t repeat it.

Chi Xiaoman was slow to react. “No, I’ve arranged somewhere else for her to stay…”

“Okay.” Chen Yue didn’t wait for her to continue. Her expression didn’t seem to change much, and her voice still carried that familiar, soothing warmth. “We’re here.”

Only then, reminded like that, did Chi Xiaoman realize they had already stopped outside the airport. Through the glass, she looked at the sky outside, then withdrew her gaze a little hastily, touched her knee, and looked at Chen Yue. “Then I’m leaving.”

“Okay.” Chen Yue looked at her. “Be careful on the way.”

“Mm.” Chi Xiaoman unfastened her seat belt and realized she hadn’t brought much luggage at all. She had just been sitting empty-handed in the passenger seat, and felt she should say something to Chen Yue before getting out. But because she was never really natural in front of Chen Yue, she only called her name in a rather flat voice.

“Mm?” Chen Yue answered, her tone gentle. “Did you forget something?”

“No.” Chi Xiaoman lowered her head. Looking back on it, this might still be the first time, and perhaps the only time, she and Chen Yue had said such an ordinary goodbye in Hong Kong. She felt she ought to say something decent and nice.

But then…

“After a few days, when the weather gets better, you can actually go out a little.”

Chi Xiaoman looked straight ahead at the street outside the car.

Her palm covered her knee as she said this very slowly. “Don’t always stay home.”

She thought of what she had seen when she woke up these past few days: Chen Yue living such an ordinary life, always quiet, always alone in the dimness, and added,

“If you don’t get any sunlight, you won’t be very happy.”

“But I’m just saying it casually.” Since she really didn’t have the right to dictate Chen Yue’s life now, Chi Xiaoman added, “It’s up to you.”

“Okay.” Chen Yue didn’t seem displeased by her meddling.

Chi Xiaoman paused, then nodded.

She didn’t say anything else.

After all, this wasn’t some life-or-death parting.

After the typhoon had ended, this was just an ordinary farewell between ordinary collaborators at the airport; there was no need for a handshake, a hug, or even eye contact.

“Then I’m going.”

Chi Xiaoman pushed open the car door.

Before getting out, she still turned back and smiled at Chen Yue, then said, “Be careful when you drive back by yourself.”

“Okay.” Chen Yue looked at her from behind. “You too.”

Then, in a natural tone, she added, “Message me when you get to Beijing and let me know you’re safe.”

Chi Xiaoman agreed.

She didn’t say anything else.

She got out of the car.

Put on her baseball cap and mask and brought this goodbye to an ordinary end.

She walked toward the airport.

Maybe because the weather was too cold, or maybe because she still had a bad impression of this city.

Chi Xiaoman walked very slowly along this stretch of road.

After walking with her head down for a while, she saw a couple in front of her, reluctant to part. Their hands were clasped; they hugged, and after the hug they stared at each other for a long time, as if they had endless things to say that couldn’t wait for a flight, much less be told to each other over a poor signal.

For reasons she couldn’t quite explain.

At that moment, Chi Xiaoman very much wanted to stop and turn back to look at Chen Yue.

Maybe it was because she suddenly remembered Chen Yue asking, before leaving for the airport, whether she would be willing to take her in if she came to Beijing.

Chi Xiaoman hadn’t had time to answer then. Now that she thought of it, she felt her reaction back then had been far too petty. It might have made Chen Yue unhappy. After all, these past two days, Chen Yue had also taken very thoughtful care of her.

So she stopped and wanted to turn around.

She also wanted to give Chen Yue a good, proper answer.

But at that moment.

A passerby very close to her seemed to meet her eyes. At a distance of less than two meters, they gave her a suspicious look, then lowered their head, wanting to check whether her eyes were the ones they knew—

And Chen Yue was behind her; if she were recognized, it might even affect Chen Yue.

In that instant, Chi Xiaoman had no choice but to lower her head and hastily avoid the passerby’s gaze. In that emergency, she quickly stepped into the airport, lowered her head to avoid the crowd’s attention, and merged her tired, haggard self into the flow of people.

In the end, she never got the chance to look back.

Never got the chance, like an ordinary old friend, to smile and say to Chen Yue—

When you come to Beijing, remember to tell me. I’ll definitely pick you up at the airport, and I’ll definitely take good care of you.

By the time she finally boarded the plane, Chi Xiaoman was half-dreaming and half-awake, and didn’t feel very real about these two days she had spent in Hong Kong.

She hadn’t managed to sleep well.

And she also wasn’t very clear whether Chen Yue had stood behind her watching for a long time that day, or whether she had driven away immediately after Chi Xiaoman got out of the car.

Nine years ago, she didn’t know.

Nine years later, it was still the same.

[Author’s Note]

Updating Little Neon on time for its thirty-second day [sunglasses]

Today is a little bit sealed [sunglasses]