「2023」

Chen Yue didn’t react.

It was as if she’d been trapped in a bad dream and still couldn’t fully pull herself free after waking.

She stared blankly at Chi Xiaoman with her eyes open.

For a long time.

Chi Xiaoman found that odd, so she leaned in a little.

But not too close.

Only to a normal social distance, where she awkwardly lifted a hand in front of her and asked flatly,

“Chen Yue? What’s wrong?”

Usually, someone who’d had a nightmare would still be dazed when they first woke up. Sometimes, because of the lingering feelings from the dream, they’d even become afraid of people or things in the real world.

After Chi Xiaoman waved a hand in front of her.

Chen Yue seemed to feel that fear too; she closed her eyes briefly.

Chi Xiaoman withdrew her hand and rested it on her knee, no longer moving closer. She was worried, but she also knew the other woman was a grown adult in her thirties and wouldn’t be unable to handle an ordinary nightmare.

So she quieted down and waited patiently for Chen Yue to come around.

Chen Yue kept her eyes shut and stayed in the same posture, not moving at all.

A long time passed.

Her eyelashes trembled lightly before she called softly,

“Xiaoman.”

“Hm?” Chi Xiaoman looked at her. She didn’t want to startle her, so she softened her voice. “You’ve already called me three times this morning.”

Using a joking tone, she added, “What’s wrong with Director Chen? Don’t tell me you want to quit?”

“Three times?” Chen Yue clearly focused on the wrong part.

“...Yes.” Chi Xiaoman carefully let her gaze settle on Chen Yue’s face. She felt she should be a little patient with someone who’d just woken from a nightmare, so she explained in a quiet voice, “Last night, I accidentally fell asleep here. Then you came too, but we didn’t say anything. Later, we just fell asleep like that, remember?”

“Mm, I know.” Chen Yue’s voice sounded very rational.

After saying that, she paused for a while, then slowly sat up. Her hair was badly mussed from sleep.

It was already autumn. She was wearing a black sweater that looked warm, and sitting in the sunlight she seemed like a dark shadow, almost cold to the touch, because her skin was so pale.

She sat in the light and, very rarely, blanked out for a moment. Then she rubbed her eyes and said softly,

“Today is Neon’s first day of shooting.”

Chi Xiaoman still felt that something was off with Chen Yue and wanted to say something.

But Chen Yue didn’t give her the chance. Slowly lowering her hand, she lifted her face and looked at Chi Xiaoman.

It wasn’t long.

And yet it still gave a distinct sense that there was a long stretch of emptiness in her gaze.

Chi Xiaoman moved her lips.

Chen Yue smiled, and the emptiness slowly faded. The curve of her smile was just like her usual one, but for some reason it gave off a particularly forlorn feeling. She didn’t smile for long, though, and repeated once more,

“Today is Neon’s first day of shooting.”

This time her voice was even softer, but much clearer.

It was as if she was repeatedly saying something from reality, so the version of herself still trapped in the nightmare could fully wake up.

Chi Xiaoman looked at her, still worried the nightmare had been a bad one, and worried too that Chen Yue always kept everything bottled up and never said anything. Even so, she didn’t ask directly what Chen Yue had dreamed.

She only looked at Chen Yue very earnestly, meeting her eyes. Because in this set full of props and dramatic details, the self in front of her might be the only real thing; she hoped she could at least make the Chen Yue who had just woken from a nightmare feel a little safer.

So she carefully and slowly told her,

“Yes. Today Neon is starting filming.”

Then Chen Yue’s eyes slowly reddened.

Reddening wasn’t quite the right word.

After all, this woman rarely lost control of her emotions. Even when they broke up in Hong Kong, Chen Yue didn’t have red eyes; even then, she stayed calm to the end.

Maybe it was just Chi Xiaoman’s imagination.

Because the next second.

Chen Yue very naturally turned her face away.

She lifted a hand to block the sunlight falling across her face, and after a long moment asked in a very light voice,

“Xiaoman, do you know what time it is now?”

Her tone was normal, with no trace of bad mood.

It must be my imagination, Chi Xiaoman thought. Then she pressed her lips together and checked her phone.

“Seven in the morning.”

The first shooting time was in the afternoon. No one had arrived on set yet.

Chen Yue nodded very slowly. Her words were drawn out. “So it’s still this early.”

“When did you come over yesterday?” Chi Xiaoman looked at her. “Go back to the hotel and rest a little longer.”

Chen Yue didn’t avoid her gaze at all. She was still turned slightly aside, her whole face bathed in light. After a long while, she nodded slowly, as if agreeing with her suggestion, and also smiled at her.

“Okay.”

As she finished speaking.

Before Chi Xiaoman could respond.

The garage door made a creaking sound—

Both of them turned at the same time.

Shen Baozhi pushed the garage door open and came in from outside, yawning. When she saw the two of them, she rubbed her eyes, looking very surprised.

“Teacher Xiaoman and Teacher Chen? Why are you two here so early?”

“I—” Chi Xiaoman hadn’t expected anyone else to come to the set at this time, let alone for herself and Chen Yue to be seen like this by Shen Baozhi. There was nothing to misunderstand, but it was still hard to explain. “We—”

“Oh, I get it.” Shen Baozhi patted her still-groggy face and pulled the garage door down, saying to herself, “You two came early to rehearse, didn’t you?”

Actually, not at all.

Chi Xiaoman thought silently to herself; from last night until now, four or five hours had passed, and they hadn’t rehearsed a single line. In fact, they had only spoken the few words from just now.

But Chen Yue said, “Yes.”

Chi Xiaoman glanced at her and said nothing.

Shen Baozhi showed an expression of “I knew it,” and seemed a little pleased because of it, as if she’d found two such diligent actors. Smiling, she nodded and earnestly advised them,

“But there’s no need to rush. Actors’ health comes first, and movies take a long time to make anyway. On the first day of shooting, there aren’t many usable shots. As for everything else, we can’t promise much, but no matter what, I’ll do my best not to shorten your shooting time.”

Chi Xiaoman agreed with her words and was already prepared for this film to have a long shooting schedule, so she was about to say, We really were planning to go back to the hotel and rest.

But Chen Yue suddenly said, “Can we try filming a take first?”

That surprised Chi Xiaoman.

She turned back to look at Chen Yue.

But the sunlight that day was too strong, so she couldn’t make out the expression on Chen Yue’s face.

And Chen Yue seemed to sense that both of them were looking at her, so she smiled and said,

“The first scene we’re shooting tonight.”

“The part where Xiaoman has to hold you?” Shen Baozhi followed up.

She’d actually said it wrong.

It was the part where Xiaoyu was supposed to hold Shu. Chi Xiaoman pressed her lips together, wanting to correct her.

But Chen Yue spoke first, her tone also perfectly normal.

“Yes, that part.”

After saying that, she looked at Chi Xiaoman again and asked in a soft voice for her opinion, “Is that okay, Xiaoman?”

To be fair.

Chi Xiaoman herself didn’t feel very confident about this scene either. If they could try it once beforehand, that would of course help her.

Only... she still felt that Chen Yue didn’t look quite right, and wanted her to go back to the hotel and rest as soon as possible.

“It’s going to be the actual shoot tonight. Don’t you want to go back and rest?” she asked Chen Yue.

Chen Yue paused for a moment. “I’m fine. I’m not that tired.”

Then she asked softly, “What about you?”

“I slept pretty well last night,” Chi Xiaoman said. Then she looked at Chen Yue again. She didn’t want Chen Yue to think she was being unprofessional and refusing to cooperate at a time like this because of private feelings, so she nodded. “Okay. Then let’s try it.”

“That works.” Shen Baozhi looked left and right. “I just came to check on the set. The camera equipment isn’t out yet, so I’ll use my phone to film a take for you. You can study it before tonight’s shoot.”

“Okay.” Chen Yue said.

Only then did she turn her face slightly in the sunlight to look at Chi Xiaoman and smile at her.

“Thank you.”

Chi Xiaoman finally got a clear look at her face; her eyes weren’t red, and her complexion wasn’t as pale as before.

She felt much more at ease too, and said to her, “You’re welcome.”

“Then I’ll sit here.” Shen Baozhi found a place to sit down, took out her phone, and picked an angle that fit both beds in one frame. “Just do whatever feels right. Pretend I don’t exist.”

“Okay.” Chen Yue agreed.

Then she paused for a while and quietly lay back down on the bed, on her side facing the wall, with her back to Chi Xiaoman.

Her emotions in this scene weren’t too intense. Most of the camera angles would only capture her back or her profile from behind. Because the apartment portion would be told through flashbacks, and this major scene would be filmed twice—once from Li Xiaoyu’s perspective, with the focus on Chi Xiaoman; once from Liu Shu’s perspective, with the focus on Chen Yue.

For the first shot of the day, they chose the version remembered from Xiaoyu’s perspective.

Compared with television, film demanded far more delicacy in emotion. For actors, it wasn’t enough merely to show the feeling; they had to let it emerge naturally through the character, and a single emotion also had to reveal its different nuances. Every inch of performance had to withstand the scrutiny of the big screen.

It was common for a scene to be refined for several days, even ten or more, or a whole month.

Choosing to shoot Xiaoyu’s perspective first also meant—

By rights, the one who should have been tense right now wasn’t Chen Yue, and the one who should have suggested a rehearsal on her own probably shouldn’t have been Chen Yue either. After all, with so many years of acting behind her, there was no way she couldn’t carry that kind of emotion.

Chi Xiaoman didn’t know what nightmare Chen Yue had had. But looking at Chen Yue’s quiet back turned to her, she thought that maybe Chen Yue was thinking of her, willing to rehearse with her.

Thinking of that.

Chi Xiaoman let out a breath.

She glanced at Shen Baozhi, who had gone quiet beside them, and didn’t dawdle for too long; she also lay down on the other small bed.

Back to back with Chen Yue.

She became Xiaoyu.

Naive, eager, the Xiaoyu who learned about Liu Shu’s illness and shed many tears, who was afraid at first but never gave up until the end, repeatedly chasing after the fleeing Liu Shu on the road, and finally taking the severely ill Liu Shu alone to Hong Kong to see the neon.

“Okay, I’m starting.”

Shen Baozhi said, “This is just a rehearsal, so I won’t count down three-two-one. Don’t be too nervous.”

As soon as she said that, it meant they had started.

Chi Xiaoman exhaled.

She built her emotions for a long time.

Taking three deep breaths, tears fell. She brushed the drops from her face.

Sniffled at her blocked-up nose.

This was basically a solo performance, because she couldn’t see Chen Yue’s reaction at all.

And because Shen Baozhi was filming the wide shot, she probably wouldn’t be able to clearly see every expression on her own face afterward either.

But she still moved through every shift in emotion, letting her eyes gradually redden, letting tears spill over, until she could no longer wipe them away, until Shen Baozhi called out from off-camera,

“Okay, Xiaoman, go hug Chen Yue.”

Maybe she hadn’t shifted over yet. Shen Baozhi said Xiaoman and Chen Yue, not Xiaoyu and Liu Shu.

Chi Xiaoman tensed for an instant when she heard that.

But very quickly, she wiped her face and worked hard to dry the tears from her cheeks—

Then turned around.

Looking at Chen Yue’s thin back.

She blinked hard.

Once, twice, three times...

A shimmer of tears rose.

She stumbled out of bed.

In her slippers, she jumped onto Chen Yue’s bed somewhat unsteadily—

Chen Yue seemed to sense it.

The shoulder turned away from her trembled with a faint arc.

It was hard to say whether she was still in character or already out of it—

Maybe as Xiaoyu, feeling heartache for Liu Shu in that moment.

Or maybe as Chi Xiaoman herself, for the first time in ten years being this close to Chen Yue, only to realize that—

In order to play Liu Shu well, Chen Yue had also become so, so thin. Her shoulders were narrow; the butterfly bones at the back of her neck made the black sweater hang loose in folds, partly hidden by her long black hair.

Chi Xiaoman could only see her back.

And because of that, she was able to look a little longer.

Slowly, Chi Xiaoman let out a breath. Her eyes grew redder and redder, and tears gathered more and more at the corners of her eyes.

But she still tried to hide the sound of her sobbing.

When Chen Yue’s shoulders trembled faintly because of it—

she reached out.

From behind, she very gently, very gently wrapped her arms around her in a side embrace.

Because Liu Shu was ill, Xiaoyu’s movements were light. And because this was the most intimate scene in the whole story, something they had never done before, Xiaoyu’s movements were a little stiff.

Because Chen Yue didn’t look well, Chi Xiaoman’s movements were also very light. And because this was the most intimate they had been in a very long time, because she could feel every change in Chen Yue’s body, because she could feel how much weight Chen Yue had lost, because Chen Yue’s skin seemed cold to the touch, as if she were freezing, or perhaps very sad, Chi Xiaoman’s movements were rather stiff too. She didn’t dare hold on too tightly.

She was even somewhat careful.

And Chen Yue gave no response. In the scene, she didn’t need to respond; off-camera, she didn’t need to respond either.

Only after the embrace had lasted for dozens of seconds did Shen Baozhi call out “Cut” from outside.

Chi Xiaoman sniffled, wanting to pull her hands back, but at that moment she suddenly felt a cool drop of liquid fall onto the back of her hand.

It seemed like...

Chen Yue was crying.

Chi Xiaoman felt surprised, and panicked, and also thought she might have misunderstood.

She wanted to withdraw her hands, but didn’t dare.

She could only blink in frantic confusion and keep herself stiffly in place.

She didn’t dare pull her hands back on her own.

And Shen Baozhi seemed to find the two of them strange. “Teacher Xiaoman? Teacher Chen?”

Chi Xiaoman couldn’t answer.

She stared at the back of Chen Yue’s neck and blinked a little blankly, preparing to say that she was the one crying and couldn’t stop.

But Chen Yue said softly, “It’s fine.”

Her voice didn’t sound like someone who had been crying.

Shen Baozhi let out a breath of relief and asked, “Xiaoman? What about you? Are you okay?”

“I...” Chi Xiaoman looked at Chen Yue’s back, thin as a sheet of paper.

She pressed her lips together.

Although she still felt plenty of worry and unease, she also knew that whatever had happened, she shouldn’t keep holding on like this.

So she slowly withdrew her hands.

Sat up.

She wiped the tears from her face and glanced at Chen Yue, whose back was still curled up in the corner.

She didn’t say anything.

And she knew that whatever had happened, Chen Yue wouldn’t want her and Shen Baozhi to see it.

Thinking of that, Chi Xiaoman hesitated and didn’t let her gaze linger for too long.

She quietly got out of bed.

Sat down on the edge of the other bed.

Shen Baozhi had been sitting far away, and only now walked over. She probably also saw that Chi Xiaoman had cried so much, and hurriedly brought over some tissues. “Xiaoman, had you and Teacher Chen rehearsed before?”

“Thank you, Baozhi.” Chi Xiaoman took the tissue she offered, wiped her face, and after hearing that question, stopped and squeezed the crumpled paper in her hand. She shook her head and said softly, “No.”

“No?” Shen Baozhi seemed very surprised.

“Then your chemistry with Teacher Chen is this good? You can give so many emotions on the first rehearsal?”

Chi Xiaoman smiled, and slowly calmed her emotions and the remaining tears.

She put her hands on her knees and said slowly, “Teacher Chen is a very good actor.”

While she said this, Chen Yue still hadn’t gotten up. Chi Xiaoman didn’t look at her and tried to keep her tone normal; she didn’t want Chen Yue to detect her concern and end up avoiding her own negative emotions because of it.

“They’re all good actors, all good actors,” Shen Baozhi said. Probably because this scene had indeed cost Chi Xiaoman so much, she hadn’t noticed Chen Yue’s strangeness, and her concern for Chi Xiaoman was greater instead.

“Xiaoman, go rinse your eyes when you get back later, or else if your eyes are swollen this afternoon, people will write all kinds of nonsense about the opening ceremony.”

“Okay.” Chi Xiaoman agreed, wiping her eyes once more and smiling at Shen Baozhi.

“By the way, Baozhi, have you not eaten breakfast yet?”

“Hm?” Shen Baozhi thought her question was odd. “I haven’t. Oh right, you and Teacher Chen—”

As she spoke, she turned to look at Chen Yue.

“We should go buy some breakfast and come back,” Chi Xiaoman said, pulling Shen Baozhi back. Then she smiled and said to her, “Teacher Chen and I really haven’t eaten, and Teacher Chen..."

As she said this,

Her lips flattened. She glanced at Chen Yue’s curled-up back, but didn’t look for long.

“Teacher Chen doesn’t sleep very well. She probably didn’t sleep much last night either. Let’s let her go back to the hotel and rest first, and just bring her breakfast back.”

She had said it several times already.

Chen Yue still hadn’t sat up.

Shen Baozhi wasn’t too slow, either; she roughly understood what was going on, so she followed Chi Xiaoman’s lead and said, “All right, then let’s let Teacher Chen rest first and go buy breakfast.”

Chi Xiaoman pressed her lips together. “Okay.”

Shen Baozhi met her eyes; she also looked somewhat worried, but in the end she still didn’t ask anything. Instead, she spoke to Chen Yue’s back in a very natural tone, “Teacher Chen, we’re going to buy breakfast first. You sleep a little longer; remember to go back to the hotel later and rest.”

“The opening ceremony is at two in the afternoon,” Chi Xiaoman added, unable to help herself. “Around eight or nine, people will start arriving to prepare the set.”

Chen Yue said nothing.

It made Chi Xiaoman think of long ago, when she used to be like this too; she wouldn’t speak, wouldn’t drink water.

As if she’d shut a door on the outside world.

Only back then.

Chi Xiaoman had the right to ask her why, and she would keep trying to drag her back up.

But now.

Chi Xiaoman was afraid that asking would only burden her instead, and she was no longer good at insisting. Because even Chi Xiaoman herself had lost a great deal of courage.

Unable to keep pressing, she could only choose to do her best to shield Chen Yue from outside scrutiny.

Even though this outside world.

Included Chi Xiaoman herself.

-

Footsteps drifted gently away.

The garage door was pulled down from outside.

A long time passed.

Chen Yue slowly opened her eyes and looked calmly at the deliberately weathered wall in front of her, still unable to concentrate.

She couldn’t let Chi Xiaoman see her like this.

And she also couldn’t admit in front of Chi Xiaoman why she had cried—

Falling asleep in the bed beside yours, only to dream of the you from the past, then waking and seeing the you from now, feeling the rupture so painfully.

Not understanding why you had become like this; seeing you as I once imagined you, with so much care and love, only to find that when I wasn’t looking, you had been forced to, or had willingly, let go of the things I never wanted you to lose, because I knew losing them would bring you so much pain; feeling a huge, unbearable sorrow and grief; realizing I could never go back to the past, and even wishing I could live forever inside the dream instead.

Xiaoman, I don’t want you to grow up.

Chen Yue couldn’t say that.

Because for the current Chi Xiaoman, the sadness and grief born from that comparison would itself be a kind of harm.

Chen Yue would never want to hurt Chi Xiaoman.

So she could only choose the clumsiest excuse, so that Chi Xiaoman wouldn’t detect her cruel reminiscence, her shameful longing, and wouldn’t be hurt by her—or begin doubting herself even more because of it.

And in doing so, she earned Chi Xiaoman’s hug.

She thought it was a worthwhile trade.

-

But Chen Yue had never been someone who allowed herself to wallow in emotion.

After a while.

She got up, composed herself, and also put away that unnecessary dream; she wanted at least to seize the chance to treat the grown-up Chi Xiaoman a little better, not hurt her, not keep longing for her, and not, because of her own yearning, keep fantasizing about making her become who she used to be.

People change.

Chen Yue told herself to accept that.

Before anyone arrived on set, Chen Yue very calmly tucked away the long dream from last night and returned to the hotel.

Not unexpectedly.

A breakfast bag was hanging from the room’s doorknob.

The wrapped bag was neat and large, packed with all kinds of breakfast you could buy here—steamed buns, soy milk, eggs, dumplings, yogurt bread...

Not especially much.

Maybe because she’d been in too much of a hurry, she hadn’t been able to buy more.

Chen Yue stared at the bag for a long moment; then she noticed that the door to a room around the corner had been opened very slightly.

But the person inside didn’t come out for a long time.

Chen Yue turned her face and looked for a while under the corridor light. For some reason she couldn’t explain, this was the first time she hadn’t taken the initiative to walk over.

So the person inside also seemed to realize once again that something was very wrong with her today. Gathering her courage, she came out and slowly walked up to her, watching her carry the breakfast in her hands, and asked hesitantly, “What’s wrong? Not to your taste?”

Chen Yue shook her head. Looking at Chi Xiaoman, she said, “They’re all things I like.”

“That’s good.” Chi Xiaoman nodded.

She also let out a breath.

“Then eat slowly, but don’t eat the cold ones.”

She probably also sensed that her mood was still bad.

Wanting to cheer her up, she even took the initiative to joke, “Anyway, it’s not like we can’t afford to waste it now.”

The next second she thought that sounded bad.

So she changed it to,

“Of course, wasting food isn’t good. If you can’t finish it, you can save it for later; the yogurt bread and things like that can still be eaten later.”

“Okay.” Chen Yue looked at her and said.

Chi Xiaoman seemed unaccustomed to her gaze, and also unaccustomed to her silence. She pressed her lips together. “Why are you still not going into the room?”

Chen Yue couldn’t speak.

Chi Xiaoman’s brows knitted slightly; she looked worried, but perhaps she knew her temperament very well, so she didn’t show that concern too much. Instead, she asked hesitantly,

“Chen Yue, what’s wrong with you today?”

And she asked, “Was that dream really bad?”

“No.” Chen Yue denied it. “The dream was very good.”

Today, she’d spoken less than before, and her voice sounded a little dry too,

“It was just more real.”

“Okay.” Chi Xiaoman nodded slowly.

Then she seemed to want to comfort her.

So she said softly, “Nightmares do usually feel a bit more real.”

Chen Yue looked at her earnest expression, trying so hard to comfort her, and found her cute, so she smiled and shook her head. “It wasn’t a nightmare.”

“Not a nightmare?” Chi Xiaoman seemed to only then react.

She was somewhat surprised.

Then after a pause, she made a relatively harmless joke: “Then was reality really that bad?”

“No.” Chen Yue still denied it. “Reality is very good too.”

Chi Xiaoman seemed a little confused.

She wore a puzzled expression.

She didn’t habitually scratch her chin like before; instead, she drew in the corners of her mouth and said, “Then do you want to finish breakfast and sleep a little longer?”

“Yes,” Chen Yue said.

Chi Xiaoman probably hadn’t expected her to answer so directly, and froze for a moment before slowly nodding. “I won’t disturb you anymore.”

“Mm, thank you.” Chen Yue said.

“Okay.”

Chi Xiaoman agreed.

Then she didn’t dawdle any longer, but merely pressed her lips together and turned to leave.

“Xiaoman.” Chen Yue called after her.

“Mm? What is it?” Chi Xiaoman looked back and met her gaze under the light in a perfectly ordinary way.

Chen Yue smiled. “Thank you.”

Chi Xiaoman probably knew she was thanking her for not prying into her mood from this morning until now, but she still chose to take it simply as gratitude for bringing breakfast, and smiled softly back at her.

“You’re welcome.”

She reminded her, “Eat more breakfast; then you’ll have energy for the whole day.”

“It’ll be tiring once filming starts, so make sure you rest well while you can.”

“Okay.” Chen Yue said.

Chi Xiaoman didn’t say anything else. She just nodded at her and returned to her room.

About ten seconds later.

She closed the door.

Chen Yue watched the sunlight disappear from the doorway of her room and stood there for a while.

In the end, not wanting Chi Xiaoman to sleep badly because she was worrying about her, she carried the breakfast bag into the room too.

After that.

Chen Yue didn’t rush to tidy herself up.

Instead, she leaned against the door.

Staring at the glaring sunlight outside the window.

Very slowly, she found a steamed bun in the breakfast bag and bit into it.

She paused, stopped for a few seconds, then continued, slowly eating one bite at a time.

It was hard to say whether she had truly woken from that dream, so real and so long, but at this moment she unmistakably felt the warmth inside the breakfast bag, and suddenly thought that perhaps her refusal to let the old Chi Xiaoman go had only ever been a selfish wish.

Perhaps she shouldn’t cling to seeing the Chi Xiaoman from the past again. Nine years was too long; no matter how much she missed her, she could never truly return to the past, and she had no way of bringing the old Chi Xiaoman back, only to force her to face this cruel reality and tell her that she might be liked by many people, and also hated by many people; tell her that the two of them would become like this; tell her that Lang Lang was already no longer in this world.

And in these nine years, Chi Xiaoman had grown so much. Surely, in the times when Chen Yue wasn’t there, she must have spent so much effort pulling herself apart, doubting herself, even cutting away and discarding parts of herself again and again... only then could she become the person she was now, someone whose smile was still so soft, and who also had the ability, the skill, and the determination to make this film well.

Even if the way she smiled still made Chen Yue feel so much heartbreak, and still wasn’t what Chen Yue wanted to see. But then Chen Yue thought: perhaps she should get to know Chi Xiaoman all over again.

Even though that would probably be very difficult, and would almost certainly cause her to ruminate constantly, making her feel a great deal of pain and sorrow.

But considering that this was probably only one part of the pain Chi Xiaoman had endured over these nine years.

Chen Yue still made up her mind because of that, hoping she could also go through the same pain, and wanting to pretend, in this way, that she had watched Chi Xiaoman grow up bit by bit.

Although this realization had come too late, and the degree to which she could feel it now might not even amount to a tenth of what Chi Xiaoman had already experienced.

Still, she looked forward to always standing beside Chi Xiaoman, never leaving her from beginning to end.

Having made up her mind on this day, Chen Yue hadn’t expected the first pain to come so quickly.

Because when she quietly hid inside the room and finished the bun bite by bite, she finally fully realized—

The bun Chi Xiaoman had bought her still didn’t have scallions.

Nine years ago, she would patiently pick the scallions out of the bun for her one bit at a time, never finding it annoying. Nine years later, she could directly buy her a bun with no scallions at all and quietly hang it on her door after coming back.

Chen Yue couldn’t judge which version of Chi Xiaoman was more precious.

[Author’s Note]

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