2023

In Chi Xiaoman’s memory, she had never been this quiet.

When she was in her early twenties, it was as if a fire burned forever in her chest. She was full of wild ideas and dreams, always talking in a rush, like a fledgling bird that feared nothing, bold and reckless in everything she did.

But tonight, after so many years without seeing each other,

Chen Yue entered her hospital room.

For most of the time, Chi Xiaoman was asleep.

She wasn’t like she had been before; even in her sleep, she would notice Chen Yue beside her first, then slowly open her eyes in a daze and kiss her. And if she found Chen Yue’s clothes were wet, she would immediately spring into action, pull her up, run out to flip the switch the landlord had secretly cut, then come back with a hairdryer to dry her off completely.

But today, even in the dozen or so minutes she was awake, she only exchanged a few words with Chen Yue. Most of them were either questions and answers, or polite reminders for her to hurry downstairs.

Maybe it was because she was injured and had no energy.

Or maybe it was because she no longer had that much to say to Chen Yue.

She was not like the Chi Xiaoman of twenty, who would even carefully pick the bits of meat out of her lunchbox in front of the entire crew, lay them out neatly on the lid, and count them one by one before telling Chen Yue how many pieces there were.

Back then, she couldn’t afford a proper smartphone that could take and send photos on the spot, so she used her semi-smart button phone to take a lot of blurry pictures, saving them to show Chen Yue at night so she could prove how well she had eaten that day.

And when she rode her electric bike to pick Chen Yue up and take her home at night, she would shout into the night wind about how those pieces of meat had actually been too salty, and how that rotten production runner had secretly taken box lunches to sell to inexperienced extras, only for her to kick and smash the whole thing apart...

Who knew who all those words were meant for now that Chi Xiaoman was like this.

Or whether she simply no longer said them at all.

If anything, Chen Yue would rather it were the former.

After leaving the ward.

Chen Yue received a call from her assistant, Xiao Qi. “Sis, where are you? I’m coming to pick you up.”

“I’m in the inpatient building; I’ll be right down.”

Passing the long windows in the corridor, Chen Yue caught sight of the sky outside. It had only just begun to brighten, so her voice turned apologetic.

“I’m really sorry. I even made you arrange a car so early to pick me up.”

“Hey, come on.” Xiao Qi was quick-witted, young, and fast-talking. “Isn’t that literally my job?”

“And who would dare make our Golden Horse Best Actress take a cab in the suburbs right after dawn?”

“At this hour, it’s questionable whether you can even get a ride; if you got kidnapped, where would I go looking for you?”

There was obvious happiness in her tone.

Chen Yue wasn’t the only one happy about winning Best Actress this time.

She’d been in the business for years and didn’t like attending public events; she also almost never went on variety shows. Aside from the times when she had a film to promote, she was basically a missing person, and not the type to give off much “star power.”

For years, it was only on these two occasions, when she won Best Actress, that the people around her got a little livelier too.

Besides, this film wasn’t exactly positioned as a commercial movie, yet its box office was surprisingly high for an art film released in the past decade or so; it had also managed to give art films, which were usually dismissed and beaten down, a breath of relief. Now that her profile had opened up quite a bit because of the award, it was only natural that the whole team was happy along with her.

“Alright, stop showing off,” Chen Yue said. She was usually cautious in how she handled things, but she wasn’t the sort to deliberately dampen her own people’s spirits at a moment like this, so she only gave a helpless smile. “Drive carefully.”

“Got it.” Xiao Qi agreed immediately. “I’ll listen to the Golden Horse Best Actress.”

The car pulled into the underground parking lot on level B1.

Before getting in.

Chen Yue saw Xiao Qi roll down the window.

So she stopped by the window on purpose and said softly, “Thanks for all the trouble.”

“No trouble at all. What’s there to be polite about between our own people?” Xiao Qi’s eyes were sharp. “Oh, sis, why are your clothes wet?”

“It rained when I came from the airport.”

Chen Yue got into the car.

Exhausted, she leaned back in the rear seat. “Maybe that’s when they got wet.”

“Then dry them off quick.” Xiao Qi handed her a towel. “Our Golden Horse Best Actress can’t catch a cold.”

Third time already.

Chen Yue took the towel and looked at Xiao Qi with a smile in her eyes.

“Okay.” Xiao Qi made a zipping motion over her lips. “I won’t say any more.”

“Mhm.”

Chen Yue used the towel to wipe the damp patch on the back of her shoulder.

Then, in an even gentler voice, she said, “I’m not blaming you. It’s just that when you say too much, there’s always a chance of slipping up.”

“In this line of work, we have to be careful about everything.”

“Got it, sis.” Xiao Qi answered obediently.

She knew Chen Yue had always been cautious and low-key. Though she usually smiled whenever they got along, she was actually quite principled; if she ever got serious, she could be intimidating.

But someone so thorough and careful.

To have rushed over from the award banquet overnight—it really was strange.

Seeing that Xiao Qi seemed to have taken the hint, Chen Yue said no more.

The car slowly started moving.

She folded the towel after wiping it dry.

Then set it aside.

Leaning back against the seat, she closed her eyes for a moment.

When she opened them again through her exhaustion, she pulled out her phone.

There were many messages.

They had been coming nonstop since last night.

Congratulations, concern.

Most of them were from her agent, Shen Yin, with some from the director, the screenwriter, and a few colleagues from the crew she could talk to.

Last night, just as the celebration banquet had started.

Chen Yue had picked up her phone, glanced at it, and then run outside.

She had even asked Xiao Qi, who was on leave and back in Beijing for a rest, to help her book the fastest flight to Beijing.

That really wasn’t the kind of thing she would normally do.

And precisely because it wasn’t.

Her sudden departure meant that quite a few people at the banquet didn’t rush to complain that she had killed the mood; instead, they came over to check on her, asking if something had happened. Some even sent her their contact information and said they had already found someone to help. If it was a serious matter, and she needed help in Beijing, she could contact them directly.

Of course, that was also the result of Chen Yue’s usual conduct on set; she always cooperated, and whenever anyone needed help, she would lend a hand.

Though the messages were lively, Chen Yue knew very well that in this circle, whether you received kindness or resentment, it all had to be repaid.

She hadn’t had time to answer those messages before.

Now that she finally had a moment.

Even though she was worn out from the trip, Chen Yue still forced herself through the fatigue and replied one by one to the people who had checked on her, thanked them, and asked after them...

She also sent a big red packet in the crew group chat.

Along with a long message apologizing for leaving early.

The banquet had probably gone on for several rounds. Someone was still online in the group and, seeing that she finally showed up, hurriedly asked:

[What happened, Teacher Chen? This is the first time I’ve seen you rush off like that.]

What happened?

Chen Yue stared at those words.

She thought of the video she had seen a few hours earlier.

Her palm pressed against her sore eyes.

It was a video that was still sitting on the trending list right now.

The camera shook wildly; a stretcher was stained red with blood.

Though the footage was blurry, it was still clear enough to make out the woman lying on it: her skin deathly white, her face covered in blood, blood also in her hair, on her collar, on her arms. Her left arm dangled weakly over the side of the stretcher, and from there hung a thin wrist that looked as though a parasol frame had been snapped in two.

She flashed past the camera for only a second, then was wheeled away in a shaky blur like a kite whose string had been cut.

And that was what had brought Chen Yue from Hong Kong to Beijing.

Slowly, Chen Yue loosened her hand from her eyes. Leaning against the seat, she stared blankly out at the unfamiliar streets beyond the car window.

How long had it been since she’d been back in Beijing?

That she no longer recognized any of these places.

After looking for a while.

Chen Yue wearily drew her gaze back.

She noticed there were several more messages of concern in the group, so she replied:

[Everything’s fine now. Thank you, everyone.]

The moment she sent it.

The phone on the front mount in Xiao Qi’s seat chimed too.

Xiao Qi glanced at the screen,

then glanced at Chen Yue again through the rearview mirror.

Chen Yue put down her phone.

Yet even leaning back in her seat, she didn’t feel relaxed.

The sky was just brightening. In some places the lights were still on; neon signs that had stayed lit through the night. She looked silently at those neon lights.

She couldn’t tell whether what she was thinking of was the Chi Xiaoman from her early twenties, who would always suddenly burst into soft, happy laughter under neon lights while kissing her, saying how happy she felt in that moment.

Or the Chi Xiaoman who had just been lying on the hospital bed, pale-faced but still forcing herself not to let Chen Yue get close.

“Teacher Chen.”

Xiao Qi’s voice suddenly came from beside her, pulling Chen Yue out of her thoughts.

“Mm?”

Chen Yue withdrew her mind and smiled. “What is it?”

“You...” Xiao Qi sounded hesitant, testing the waters. “You didn’t come all the way here to find Teacher Chi, did you?”

Having her motive guessed correctly.

Chen Yue didn’t get angry. Instead, she gave a soft laugh. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, when I was waiting for you in the parking lot just now...” Xiao Qi gathered her courage and continued.

“I saw someone in the group chat say that Teacher Chi seems to be in this hospital too.”

“I see.” Chen Yue nodded, her voice still gentle. “A private group?”

“Yes.” Xiao Qi nodded.

Seeing no anger on Chen Yue’s face, she grew bolder and asked, “You’re not going to find Teacher Chi to settle accounts, are you?”

Actually, ever since Chen Yue said she was going to the hospital, Xiao Qi had been trying to guess what had happened. She had been with Chen Yue for several years and knew very well that Chen Yue usually spent most of her time in Hong Kong, with her family in Guangdong. In Beijing, she didn’t really have any close acquaintances at all.

Aside from necessary work, she basically never came to Beijing.

Who exactly? What happened exactly? What could make Chen Yue skip the banquet and fly to Beijing overnight?

At first, Xiao Qi thought something serious had happened.

But just now.

Seeing the expression on Chen Yue’s face when she came out, it didn’t seem like a big deal.

After thinking it over from every angle.

And then hearing that Chi Xiaoman was also in this hospital.

Once she put the two together.

Xiao Qi felt the most likely explanation was that Chen Yue had seen the trending topic, seen the rumors written about her, and finally couldn’t hold back from coming to settle accounts with Chi Xiaoman.

Even though that still didn’t sound very reliable.

It was the biggest possibility Xiao Qi could think of.

Only.

When she asked that.

Chen Yue seemed not to react at all. “Settle accounts? What accounts?”

“Hm?” Xiao Qi was stunned too.

“In that case, didn’t you come because of that gossip about you and Teacher Chi’s movie, so they could clear things up in time?”

“We didn’t talk about that.” Chen Yue’s answer was brief.

Then what else could they have talked about?

Xiao Qi almost blurted it out.

But seeing that Chen Yue didn’t seem to want to discuss it, she changed direction at the last second.

“Then is Teacher Chi really going to switch careers and make films?”

At that question.

Chen Yue inevitably recalled Chi Xiaoman’s expression when they had just parted ways—

Stunned, flustered, silent.

But not denying it.

All these years.

Chi Xiaoman was still the same; every emotion showed on her face, and she would rather keep quiet than tell a lie.

“I’m not sure.”

Xiao Qi was good at keeping her mouth shut, but Chen Yue still didn’t voice her own guess.

“Then it must be fake,” Xiao Qi said with certainty.

“Why do you say that?”

“Isn’t that obvious to anyone?” Xiao Qi said. “With Teacher Chi’s kind of disaster-prone magnetism.”

“If this movie really gets made, there’ll just be another reason for people to mock her.”

“You don’t believe she can do it well?”

Chen Yue asked that.

Xiao Qi froze. “You do, Teacher Chen?”

Chen Yue didn’t answer. She lowered her eyes and looked at her phone.

After thinking for a moment, Xiao Qi decided this was probably a difficult answer for Chen Yue to give, so she gave her a way out.

“Actually, in this industry... well, not just this industry. Even if you ask the fans who genuinely like Teacher Chi, not many of them would dare pound their chests and say, with absolute certainty, that Teacher Chi can definitely make a good film.”

“Besides, Teacher Chen, this is just between us.”

“I think sometimes you don’t need to be so proper.”

“Not to mention,”

“those marketing accounts have been pushing this narrative these past two days that you’re going to act in her movie. Although the public opinion has temporarily swung our way, and right now it doesn’t really hurt us. It may also have nothing to do with Teacher Chi herself.”

“But it definitely has something to do with her agent.”

Chen Yue still didn’t speak. After a whole night of running around, she hadn’t used the car ride to rest; instead, she was staring out the window at the street scene, as though making an effort to look at things no one else would bother to look at.

Xiao Qi didn’t know whether she had heard any of it.

But since she had started, and because she remembered what her own agent had told her, she kept going.

“I’m just saying, it has nothing to do with Teacher Chi herself.”

“Even just based on how capable her agent is, we should keep our distance from Teacher Chi.”

“I’m not saying I don’t believe in anything.” Chen Yue suddenly spoke.

“What?” Xiao Qi didn’t catch it.

In the quiet car.

Chen Yue drew her gaze back from the street outside.

She looked utterly exhausted, but still insisted on meeting Xiao Qi’s eyes, repeating in a very soft voice, “I’m not saying I don’t believe in anything.”

And so, during that ninety-second red light, Xiao Qi realized that Chen Yue had been answering her very first question.

She really did seem to believe Chi Xiaoman could make a good film.

And after this matter broke, she was the only one willing to believe it.

[Author’s Note]

Day four of updating little Neon [kiss][kiss][kiss]