2013

First love.

That night, Chi Xiaoman, who had just turned twenty and fancied herself a master of romance, was hiding behind the concession counter in a movie theater, wearing a uniform and a cap, while she revised the ad copy that had been taken down that day.

No one knew whether she’d been possessed or what, but all of a sudden she curled up her fingers and typed out that word, pinyin by pinyin.

It was downright inexplicable.

Chi Xiaoman pressed her lips together and hammered the two words out of existence with a heavy hand on the keyboard.

Then.

She stared at the empty computer screen.

Her palms were sweating, her heart was pounding wildly, and her face and ears were burning hot.

So.

She had no choice but to set down the heavy laptop, pour herself a glass of cola filled to the brim with ice, and hold the sides of the glass with both hands for a while, letting the cold mist settle on her skin before she reached up to touch her overheated face and pinch her ears, which felt so hot they might curl in on themselves—

Then.

She stared at the bubbles in the cola.

And suddenly, she burst out laughing.

The day they first had malatang, there had seemed to be a bottle of iced cola too...

Could Chen Tong have started liking her back then?

Love at first sight.

No way.

Or maybe even earlier than that?

Impossible, right?

It was a weekday, and in the dead of night the movie theater lobby had almost no customers. A song was playing from the speaker, an old one she’d heard today and immediately added to her playlist; the singer was singing “SAYONARA'O SAYONARA'O” in a voice that was full of hope and sweetness.[1]

Chi Xiaoman didn’t understand the lyrics and didn’t realize the singer was actually singing about parting. Even if she had known, she probably would have thought this farewell sounded very sweet.

She pinched her ear and slowly slid down until she was sitting under the counter, then covered her face shyly and giggled.

Really now.

Chi Xiaoman patted her own cheeks; the cool water droplets she’d splashed on her face left her a little melancholy as she rubbed at cheeks that were already getting sore from smiling, feeling like she absolutely could not go on like this.

So she very solemnly forced the corners of her mouth down, then let out a breath and hid behind the counter with a clatter of movement, beginning to recite, from memory, all the dish names she used to know by heart from the steamed bun shop in the cafeteria.

It was when she reached “mustard beef buns” that she stood up, carefully straightened her uniform, the cap on her bun hairstyle, and her bow tie.

Then, very properly, she found the biggest cup she could.

Humming along with the old song on repeat, she washed it, dried it, filled it with ice, drew a foamy cola from the drink machine, bought herself the biggest popcorn bucket on a separate bill, and packed it full until it looked like the world’s most overloaded mountain of popcorn.

After that.

She sat waiting behind the counter, as restrained as a doll that had been locked away, wearing a smile.

Night shift.

Past midnight.

There weren’t many people coming to see movies.

But someone was coming to see her.

Because her girlfriend had terrible insomnia.

Usually by this hour she still wouldn’t be asleep.

If she couldn’t sleep, she’d go for a walk outside, and occasionally she would wander over here to find her.

Chi Xiaoman had timed it perfectly; the popcorn hadn’t melted, and the cola still had its bubbles.

Then she saw her girlfriend, wearing a very casual but very nice black T-shirt.

Her hair was tied up, and she wore those dark green acetate frames, smiling as she walked toward her.

“Here!” Chi Xiaoman leaned out over the counter and waved at her.

“SAYONARA'O SAYONARA'O”——the song reached the chorus, its melody retro, its rhythm brisk, its tune light.

The woman walked over, still smiling when she stopped in front of her, though she must have been sweating a little, because the tip of her nose and her chin were both glistening.

“Why do you always have to wave at me?” Chen Tong asked as she stopped at the counter. Warm yellow light was shining up from beneath the transparent counter at a completely unreasonable angle, but she was still smiling at her, and somehow looked beautiful all the same. “It’s not your first time seeing me.”

Chi Xiaoman giggled. “Habit, I guess.”

She pushed the cola and popcorn she’d prepared toward her.

Smiling broadly, she said, “Sister Chen Tong, I’m treating you to these first.”

Maybe the cola and the popcorn really were too much. Chen Tong looked down at them and frowned a little. “Why is there so much?”

“I accidentally made too much!”

Chi Xiaoman said with deliberate innocence. Then she rested her chin in her hand and studied Chen Tong’s face, adding, “It’s okay if you can’t finish it.”

As she spoke, she lifted the barrier on the side of the counter.

Very thoughtfully, she stretched out one hand to take Chen Tong’s.

Chen Tong couldn’t stop laughing at her especially formal actions, but she still cooperated, placing her hand into that warm, soft palm. “Why are you being so serious today?”

Palms touching.

To get from the middle of the counter to the side, one had to walk around in a circle.

“It’s the first day!” Chi Xiaoman said, smiling. “There should always be some sense of ceremony.”

She held Chen Tong’s hand.

Her eyes curved into two crescent moons.

She watched the woman slowly go around the curve and draw close to her side.

Because her own arms weren’t long enough,

she could only rise slightly onto her toes behind her, in the warm light, and pull Chen Tong into the counter.

With great ceremony, she completed a simple action.

Like a princess leading her princess.

Dancing the simplest little dance.

Only after Chen Tong had come inside did Chi Xiaoman carefully lower the barrier, but she still didn’t let go of Chen Tong’s hand; she kept holding it warmly.

The two of them sat shoulder to shoulder inside the counter.

Below them was a makeshift little cushion Chi Xiaoman had prepared long ago by folding and stacking old newspapers and old posters.

In front of them was a red plastic stool, on top of which sat a rather bulky laptop, paused at the frame before the film began.

July 31.

The second day of their relationship.

Midnight.

Behind a counter scented with sweet popcorn, Chi Xiaoman invited her first love, Chen Tong, to watch her favorite old movie with her, shoulder to shoulder and head to head, in complete intimacy.

Of course.

Considering Chen Tong might think she was being stingy,

Chi Xiaoman had even specially taken the whole next day off, bought two thirty-yuan movie tickets and secretly tucked them into her pocket, planning to invite Chen Tong to a new movie the next day and then go eat a buffet that cost 139 yuan per person.

And because Chi Xiaoman might really have been the kind of girlfriend with very little ability, the plan for her first date needed four bills from her little piggy bank; that was her savings for the week.

But it didn’t matter.

Because Chi Xiaoman believed that someday she would be very capable, and might even be able to treat Chen Tong to a buffet that cost three or four hundred yuan per person!

Still, that night, because the scene seemed a little cramped, she felt somewhat uneasy and kept sneaking worried glances at Chen Tong’s expression during the movie.

She was afraid Chen Tong would feel uncomfortable.

She was also afraid Chen Tong would think dating her would be exhausting.

She didn’t like Chen Tong being uncomfortable.

She didn’t like Chen Tong being tired.

But she liked Chen Tong very much.

She didn’t know why.

But she must like her very much.

Chi Xiaoman looked carefully at Chen Tong’s expression.

Chen Tong, as if she had long since noticed Chi Xiaoman had been watching her all evening, asked patiently,

“Xiaoman, why do you keep looking at me?”

How strange. It was clearly the exact same question.

She could have given the exact same answer.

But Chi Xiaoman wasn’t as bold as before, and her voice grew small. “Because you’re so pretty.”

Chen Tong froze.

Then she smiled.

The space behind the concession counter was tiny, and her smile spilled in like water, swaying and drifting.

After laughing for a while, she reached over to pat Chi Xiaoman’s head, then tilted her head to look at her. She paused, as if considering whether to ask, but in the end she still did.

“Xiaoman, why do you think you like me?”

Chi Xiaoman’s eyes went wide.

She scratched her chin. “What do you mean by that?”

This was a serious question.

So after asking it, Chi Xiaoman paused the movie.

“Why are you suddenly asking that?”

Chen Tong looked at her.

Her gaze was still as gentle as ever, as though nothing had changed.

The corners of her mouth were still curved in a smile. “Nothing.”

As she said that, she reached out as if to start the movie again.

Chi Xiaoman stopped her hand and wouldn’t let her press play, then tightened her lips and looked at her.

“Something.”

Chen Tong said nothing, sounding a little helpless. “Xiaoman.”

“Something, something.” Chi Xiaoman wouldn’t let it go, and then she stated a very serious principle:

“You can’t argue on the first day of dating.”

“Does this count as arguing?” Chen Tong went off topic.

“Of course.” Chi Xiaoman nodded emphatically. “You don’t say it, but you’re going to sulk later, and once you sulk you’ll silently deduct points from me in your heart. Deducting points is arguing, and arguing leads to breaking up.”

Chen Tong stayed quiet. She also seemed like someone not very skilled at romance, so after listening, she lowered her face and scratched Chi Xiaoman’s hand. Only after a long while did she slowly say,

“I just thought that you were having a really good time tonight, and if I suddenly brought this up...”

Her tone was still hesitant.

“It wasn’t very appropriate.”

“If you don’t bring it up, that’s even less appropriate.” Chi Xiaoman shook her hand and urged her, “Hurry up and tell me.”

Chen Tong looked at her for a long time. “Actually, it’s nothing.”

At last, as if she had no choice, she said, “Fine.”

She seemed to think this was hard to say out loud.

And she also seemed to think she had made the atmosphere terrible; guilt crept into her voice as she spoke again, very softly.

“If the person who kissed you last night wasn’t me, would you still like her?”

Chi Xiaoman stared blankly.

As if completely stumped by the question.

After she finished speaking, Chen Tong did not think Chi Xiaoman’s reaction was strange. To be fair—compared with now, she thought every reaction Chi Xiaoman had given since that kiss happened was stranger.

So open, so generous, and so easily accepting.

And then she had quickly planned out their date, and so sincerely told her that she liked her...

It wasn’t that Chen Tong didn’t believe Chi Xiaoman’s sincerity.

It was just that this was not how she had imagined it. It seemed to be missing some necessary step she had envisioned, and Chen Tong found herself puzzled. In many moments, she even couldn’t help wondering whether it was because Chi Xiaoman was still muddled and hadn’t truly woken up to this, so that when she accepted the kiss, she had mistaken her body’s flustered reaction for liking her.

But even though she had doubts about it,

Chen Tong still didn’t want to bring up her confusion first.

Because Chi Xiaoman had accepted her kiss, and had even been willing to kiss her back.

She thought Chi Xiaoman might not have sorted her feelings out yet, and yet she would rather Chi Xiaoman never sort them out at all, wanting to use one kiss after another to stop Chi Xiaoman from discovering that she had mistaken panic for liking.

And she felt grateful for that.

Because she was the first person to kiss Chi Xiaoman. There would never be a second person who could, like her, so easily gain the chance to come close to Chi Xiaoman, and so effortlessly receive her sufficiently generous “love.”

Chen Tong prayed there would never be a second person.

Even if, right now, Chi Xiaoman’s good response might simply come from being utterly unguarded with her.

“Huh—”

Chi Xiaoman rested her chin in her hand, her expression very serious as she thought it over. “Sister Chen Tong, if you put it that way, now I want to know too——”

She looked at her, curiosity filling her eyes. “Why did you suddenly kiss me last night?”

She didn’t seem to realize how bright those eyes looked, how beautiful they were, how much they resembled...

“Neon.”

Chen Tong said, “Because of the neon.”

“Neon?” Chi Xiaoman tilted her head. “What neon?”

As soon as she asked, she realized it herself.

“Oh, the adhesive paper stuck on the windows.”

As if everything had clicked into place, she suddenly understood and began a very straightforward chain of reasoning.

“So, Sister Chen Tong, when you suddenly kissed me, did you like me only because of some adhesive paper?”

Though this sentence wasn’t exactly wrong,

the cause and effect sounded very strange.

And it skipped over a lot of details.

Chen Tong felt she ought to explain it clearly to Chi Xiaoman.

But Chi Xiaoman made another “huh” sound and said, “Then isn’t mine actually a little better? At least I liked you because you kissed me.”

“And—”

As she said this, she suddenly stopped, her ears going a little red.

“And what?” Chen Tong asked.

“And...” Chi Xiaoman pressed her lips together. Her voice became very small, and her ears turned red under the light. “And I think—kissing you felt pretty good.”

Chen Tong parted her lips and couldn’t speak.

Chi Xiaoman covered her face, then, just like that night, became a little curled-up cat again, using both hands to pinch the tiny tips of her own ears, which looked red and hot, and said,

“Can wanting to kiss someone not count as liking them?”

Well.

That was indeed logic Chen Tong couldn’t refute.

But she was naturally reserved and not used to saying things so directly.

Nor could she be as open and unembarrassed as Chi Xiaoman.

However, Chi Xiaoman seemed not to care much about that. She let out a breath.

Her cheeks were red under the light, and her ears were still red too. Curling in on herself, both hands still pinching her ears, she looked like a little mouse caught while stealing something, and said very softly,

“And I just imagined it a bit, and I feel like in all my years, meeting so many people...”

She glanced at her.

Then, evasive and dryly, she said, “I only want to kiss you.”

Saying everything on her mind made Chi Xiaoman feel terribly embarrassed. Once she finished, she formed her two palms into little hills, turning them into two tiny peaks to cover her face as hard as she could. Then, sensing Chen Tong’s quiet breathing, she buried her face a little deeper into her knees and mumbled,

“Oh, anyway, anyway, that’s what I mean~”

She dragged out the ending.

Like she was coaxing.

Actually, Chi Xiaoman wasn’t someone who liked acting spoiled. She thought of herself as strong, independent, brave, and very capable. But for some reason, whenever she was in front of Chen Tong, she became extremely fond of acting spoiled.

That made her feel strange.

But it also brought sudden clarity—that might be proof she liked Chen Tong too.

She wanted to tell Chen Tong that.

But she was a little embarrassed.

So she only pressed her lips together and said in a small voice, “Then let’s keep watching the movie.”

With that, Chi Xiaoman gently lifted her palms off her face, holding both hands up beside her cheeks like two little fans.

She looked like a New Year painting doll hiding in a window frame just big enough to contain her face.

With a straight face,

she stared at the paused movie screen.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

She heard Chen Tong’s softened breathing draw close, heard Chen Tong say gently,

“Xiaoman, can I kiss you?”

“Huh?”

Chi Xiaoman was surprised by Chen Tong’s request, but she didn’t refuse it; instead she felt anticipation, so she stiffly raised both hands to the sides of her face and turned neatly to look at the woman beside her, who was watching her.

“Okay.”

She said.

Then.

Slowly, she lowered her hands.

Very properly, she folded them and set them on her knees.

Watching the woman slowly approach through the colorful lights.

She thought maybe she had done badly before, which was why Chen Tong had misunderstood.

So she tightened her lips.

Gathered her courage.

Shyly but boldly, she leaned in first.

Before Chen Tong could close her eyes.

She lifted her chin slightly.

And kissed her first.

The woman seemed a little surprised by her initiative and instinctively opened her eyes, not reacting in time.

And Chi Xiaoman still wasn’t very good at it, so she took the initiative and licked her lips a little dryly.

“Let’s hurry... hurry and kiss.”

“After kissing... we... have to... fin...ish... the mov...ie.”

The kiss came down over her.

Chi Xiaoman insisted on finishing the sentence.

And she also insisted.

After they were done kissing.

Blushing all the way to her ears, she held out the glass of iced cola to Chen Tong and told her to take a sip. Then she lowered her head, looking at the trace of lipstick stuck on the rim, and used the same straw to take a tiny sip herself, feeling that today’s cola was much sweeter than before.

Then she said softly,

“Sister Chen Tong, I’ve never shared a straw with anyone before when drinking something.”

The movie on the screen resumed, and Cantonese dialogue drifted out vaguely.

Chen Tong was quiet for a long time, then leaned against her straight, upright shoulder.

After a while, she said softly,

“Okay, I know.”

In truth, Chi Xiaoman wasn’t sure whether her answer had dispelled Chen Tong’s doubts, but later, after reflecting on it, she still felt her logic was very clear—if you want to kiss someone, how can that not be liking them?

If it wasn’t because of liking them, how could you kiss them?

So.

She never doubted that Chen Tong’s sudden kiss had been on a whim either.

If anyone ever tried to force that kind of twisted logic on her,

she would immediately and righteously declare that Chen Tong was not that kind of person.

That night, Judge Chi Xiaoman issued the most solemn ruling in her entire romantic history:

Chen Tong liked Chi Xiaoman.

Chi Xiaoman also liked Chen Tong.

On this matter, no lawyer could mount a defense.

-

But that night,

Chen Tong brought up a second thing that surprised Chi Xiaoman.

It was when the movie reached its ending.

When the subtitles began rolling up one line at a time.

Chi Xiaoman insisted on watching every single line of the end credits, and watched them very seriously, without speaking to Chen Tong during that time.

So Chen Tong asked her, “Didn’t you already watch it before? Why do you always have to watch all the way to the end?”

“Because every movie is precious.” The laptop was almost out of power; when the final line of the credits rolled by, Chi Xiaoman closed it and put it carefully into her laptop bag. “Every shot is precious, and every name in the credits is precious too.”

“But a lot of people don’t watch them. Of course we can’t blame the audience who don’t, because their time is precious too. They have to spend it on things in their lives that are even more precious and more worth their time.”

“But because the most precious thing in my life is movies...” As she said this, Chi Xiaoman glanced at Chen Tong on her shoulder and spoke carefully. “No, no.”

“Hm?” Chen Tong didn’t catch on. “Why is it not?”

“It’s different now!” Chi Xiaoman was excited tonight, emphasizing it with a grin. “Now it’s movies and you.”

Chen Tong froze for a moment, then leaned against her shoulder and laughed softly. “So I can already compare to movies in your heart?”

“Of course.” Chi Xiaoman lifted her chin. “Dating is just like making a movie. You have to take it seriously, and experience it seriously too.”

Besides, this was her first relationship.

Chen Tong didn’t deny it, just looked at her smiling.

“In short,” Chi Xiaoman said, wrinkling her itchy nose a little, “because this is one of the most precious things to me, I want to spend my time on it. And I can watch it a few more times for the audience who have more things to do, so that every precious person can be seen a few more times too.”

“Mm, that makes sense.” Chen Tong nodded lightly against her shoulder.

Chi Xiaoman turned her face to look at her—

The woman didn’t say anything more. She only stared at the closed laptop screen, her eyelashes lit by the warm glow inside the counter, a little lost in thought.

“What are you thinking about?” Chi Xiaoman asked her.

Chen Tong shook her head and took her hand, slowly interlacing their fingers. Her tone was still as gentle as ever. “Nothing.”

Some time later, Chi Xiaoman would come to know more about the woman leaning against her shoulder at this moment. She would understand that this woman had more things she had never told her, and that she habitually hid her emotions, doubts, and worries, and never liked to express her thoughts first.

She would also discover that no matter how much time passed, she would never be able to change this woman, and she would always struggle to truly understand Chen Tong’s thoughts.

But.

Whether she discovered it or not, whether she understood it or not, whether this situation happened one hundred times or one billion times in the course of their relationship.

Chi Xiaoman would still choose, again and again, to ask,

“What are you thinking about? What are you thinking about? What are you thinking about?”

“Chen Tong, what are you really thinking?”

Like a noisy bird, circling around Chen Tong as its center, chattering endlessly.

So much so that every time, Chen Tong would laugh, as if she had no choice, as if coaxing her, as if hoping she would stop asking; she would lean over and press her cheek against hers.

“Chi Xiaoman, you’re so noisy.”

“And then and then—” In those moments, Chi Xiaoman would circle around her, blinking as she looked into her eyes and asked, “Sister Chen Tong, you have to tell me. If you don’t tell me, how am I supposed to help you?”

“Help me?”

But tonight, perhaps because they had only just started dating, for less than seventy-two hours,

Chen Tong still seemed a little unaccustomed to Chi Xiaoman’s chatter. She was stunned for a long time, and only then slowly said, “Why do you want to help me?”

After saying this, she seemed afraid Chi Xiaoman would feel sad, so she softened her voice and explained at once, “Xiaoman, that’s not what I meant—”

“I know.” Chi Xiaoman cut her off, leaning against the counter and looking into her eyes as she said very seriously,

“You may just be used to that from before.”

“Thinking that when something happens, you just bear it yourself, and maybe you don’t trust other people very much...”

After saying a few things,

she felt like she was analyzing Chen Tong as if she were a character, so she made an “eh” sound and stopped, feeling that was not good, because Chen Tong was her girlfriend, a real living person, not a character in a movie. She should understand more, interact more, and then evaluate her.

So she moved her chin.

And changed her words to,

“In any case, what I mean is, dating is about turning one person’s business into two people’s business.”

“It means you help carry mine, and I help carry yours too. Then the two of us carry things together and walk a very long road.”

To be reasonable, this was Chi Xiaoman’s first relationship, but for some reason she seemed to have a lot of theories in her head that she could talk about. She didn’t even know whether those theories were right or not; in any case, she just poured them all out.

After speaking, she looked patiently at Chen Tong and said,

“But you don’t have to say anything now if you don’t want to.”

“Anyway, we should be dating for quite a long time.”

She intentionally left herself a way in, planning to wait until Chen Tong asked why she thought they would date for quite a long time, and then to say superficially—because you’re so pretty, and it’s my first relationship, so if we don’t date for a long time, that would be such a pity.

That way Chen Tong could feel a little more relaxed in front of her because of that sentence.

But Chen Tong didn’t ask. She stayed silent for a long time.

She looked at her, and when she spoke again, her voice was very soft.

“Xiaoman, you’re so beautiful.”

Why was she suddenly saying the words Chi Xiaoman had wanted to say?

Chi Xiaoman was startled and turned to look at Chen Tong.

Just as she was about to speak,

Chen Tong called her again in a gentle voice.

“Xiaoman.”

“Mm, I’m here.” Chi Xiaoman placed her hands on her knees and answered earnestly.

The movie theater was warm-lit, and the smell of popcorn lingered in the air.

Chen Tong leaned closer. Through the warm yellow light spilling across the counter, her eyes were very near Chi Xiaoman’s eyes, and her nose tip was very near Chi Xiaoman’s nose tip too, as if she were looking at her through a layer of glass that didn’t exist.

It also seemed like she was observing her expression, checking whether she was reliable enough to make herself willing to tell the truth.

To the point that Chi Xiaoman’s nose started to itch, and she almost sneezed into her hand.

But before that could happen, Chen Tong suddenly touched her ear.

“I also want to try making movies.”

She said softly,

“What do you think? Is that okay?”

[Author’s Note]

Updating Little Neon on time for its thirty-fifth day [glasses]

[1] This song is Leon Lai’s “My Dearest”; you can go listen to it. I think its rhythm and melody fit this chapter really well, hehe.