2023

Chi Xiaoman suddenly felt that she no longer quite understood what “see you tomorrow” meant.

This year, she was thirty. The only two relationships she had ever had were both with the same person.

Maybe while they were filming, she could deceive herself into believing everything between her and Chen Yue was only the emotional give-and-take required by their roles; that it was the story, the work, something Chi Xiaoman herself didn’t have the energy or the time to think too deeply about.

But now the final scene had been shot, and the story of Neon had already come to an end.

Chi Xiaoman no longer seemed able to hide inside Xiaoyu’s shell, to so casually and conveniently treat Chen Yue as Liu Shu, and she also could no longer interpret this “see you tomorrow” as an ordinary meeting with no meaning at all.

After thinking it over and over, Chi Xiaoman felt this “see you tomorrow” could be read in two ways.

One was farewell.

Just as a film always had a wrap ceremony after shooting ended, perhaps they too needed a proper goodbye.

Not only a farewell as Liu Shu and Xiaoyu, not only a farewell to Neon, but also a farewell to their ten years together, and even... a farewell to Lang Lang.

Chi Xiaoman didn’t know whether Chen Yue, like her, had also brooded over Lang Lang’s matters over these ten years, and over Neon, which had carried them through their twenties and into the present.

But now that Neon’s filming had truly ended, they had each more or less completed the thing they most wanted to do after becoming actresses ten years ago; they had also, toward the other person of ten years ago and toward themselves, finally been able to say they had done right by them.

If these ten years also needed a wrap ceremony.

Then without a doubt, this was something only the two of them could do now.

The other possibility... perhaps Chen Yue wanted to cast off everything from the past, and cast off Liu Shu and Xiaoyu from Neon as well; she only wanted to start simply with Chi Xiaoman, beginning from a plain “see you tomorrow.”

Of course, even if that were the case, Chi Xiaoman still did not believe this “see you tomorrow” truly meant Chen Yue wanted to return to the intimacy they had once shared.

A new beginning could happen tomorrow. But a new beginning did not necessarily mean they could truly make up and return to how things had once been.

As for that second possibility, Chi Xiaoman did not dare think too deeply.

That night, she rolled around in bed, telling herself the chance of that possibility was very low, and it wasn’t realistic either.

So she failed to sleep as soundly as Chen Tong had hoped.

But it wasn’t too bad either.

The next day, she was woken by a knock at the door.

The knock wasn’t heavy.

Only twice.

Most likely, whoever it was simply wanted to see if she was awake.

Chi Xiaoman had always slept lightly, so by the second knock, she vaguely opened her eyes. She closed them again, waited a while, and when she didn’t hear anything more, she assumed the knocking had just been a hallucination.

But after dozing a bit, she still didn’t fall back asleep.

Somewhat short on energy, she got out of bed. Remembering the knock from earlier, she stood blankly in the empty room for a while. She didn’t know what possessed her, but she still walked over and opened the door——

To her surprise, Chen Yue was standing outside.

By the end of April, Hong Kong’s weather had already warmed up. The woman stood in the corridor light, leaning against the wall.

She wore that pair of very shiny-framed glasses, and a plain gray sweater. The fabric looked soft, and the collar of the black shirt underneath peeked out slightly, making her neck look slender and white.

“Chen Tong jiejie?”

Chi Xiaoman rubbed her eyes; she still wasn’t fully awake, and her voice had a slight nasal sound.

“Why didn’t you knock?”

“Have you caught a cold?” Chen Yue had originally been leaning against the wall with her arms folded. Seeing Chi Xiaoman open the door, she looked over with concern.

“No.” Chi Xiaoman shook her head. “It’s just that my throat feels a little uncomfortable after waking up.”

“Mm.” Chen Yue nodded. “Drinking some warm water after getting up in the morning will help a bit.”

“Okay.” Chi Xiaoman nodded, then looked at Chen Yue’s clothes and felt this didn’t seem like the look of someone who had come to make small talk in the morning. She picked at her fingers. “You, you’re leaving?”

“Mm.” Only then did Chen Yue’s brow knit slightly. “My mom’s been hospitalized. I need to hurry back and see her.”

Chi Xiaoman froze for half a beat; when she stepped forward, her footing was a little unsteady. “Then your mom, your mom’s okay, right?”

“She’s fine.” Chen Yue explained at once. “She just fainted and needs a minor surgery. It’s not serious.”

“That’s good.” Chi Xiaoman’s furrowed brow loosened a little. “As long as she’s okay.”

“Don’t worry.” Chen Yue’s voice softened. “Actually, when I got up, I wanted to ask if you’d like to go out for a walk together, because the forecast said today’s weather would be very nice.”

She looked at Chi Xiaoman, pausing for a moment. When she spoke again, her tone held a hint of apology. “But now I may have to head back to Guangdong first.”

Chi Xiaoman froze.

She suddenly didn’t quite understand why Chen Yue seemed to be apologizing to her, and she also couldn’t react in time to why Chen Yue was still standing here. It took her a while before she finally asked,

“So... so you came here specially to tell me this?”

You were waiting outside before I even opened the door.

Chen Yue hummed in confirmation, then explained, “Didn’t I say ‘see you tomorrow’ to you yesterday?”

Chi Xiaoman tried hard to turn the thought over in her head.

Chen Yue looked at her.

As if she found her effort to understand amusing, she let out a soft laugh before saying,

“I didn’t want you to wake up and think I’d broken my promise.”

“And I also didn’t want you to find out through a phone call and worry too much.”

Her voice was light and slow in the corridor. “The nearest flight hasn’t come yet, so I thought I’d come see whether you were awake.”

So that was it.

Chi Xiaoman nodded and stood in the shadow by the door, speaking softly. “Then hurry and go; don’t waste time.”

“I’m fine, Chen Tong jiejie.” She smiled at Chen Yue as she said it, then joked, “I won’t think you’re not trustworthy.”

Chen Yue nodded slowly, not hurrying to leave. “Xiaoman.”

“Mm?” Chi Xiaoman held onto the door.

“When are you going back to Beijing?” Chen Yue asked.

“It’s not decided yet.” Chi Xiaoman thought about it a little blankly. “Maybe I still have to wait until everything here is wrapped up. There should still be some time.”

“Okay.” Chen Yue said.

As soon as the words fell, her phone rang. In the empty corridor, the sound seemed especially abrupt.

“Is Xiao Qi urging you?” Chi Xiaoman asked.

“Xiaoman.” Chen Yue called her again.

“What is it?” Chi Xiaoman was a little worried.

Because Chen Yue’s expression didn’t look very good. Even if she understood that Chen Yue’s relationship with her mother wasn’t good, a mother was still a mother; no matter how big the usual conflicts were, once illness came, all one could think was that this person was your mother. Chi Xiaoman thought this was probably how most people felt about their mothers.

“Can I hug you?” Chen Yue asked, looking into her eyes.

Calm down, Chi Xiaoman should have said; there were probably a lot of people passing by the hotel in the morning, and it might not be very appropriate.

Be more mature, Chi Xiaoman should have said; weren’t you about to get on a plane? You’d better not waste too much time here.

But perhaps thirty-year-old Chi Xiaoman still hadn’t grown much at all. She would still feel very distressed for Chen Yue when she showed vulnerability.

So she said, “If you need it.”

Just like last time.

When Chen Yue heard her answer, she didn’t wait too long.

She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her shoulders very lightly, lightly pressed her cheek against Chi Xiaoman’s face, and told her, “Mm, I do.”

Just like that snowy day, when they had hidden in a small guesthouse in Guizhou and hugged like two children keeping each other warm.

This embrace wasn’t especially intimate. But perhaps it was because the long winter had passed, and summer had come again.

Chi Xiaoman no longer reacted to their embrace the way she had before, with surprise, unfamiliarity, and tension as her first response.

She could feel Chen Yue’s hesitation, uncertainty, and the trace of worry gradually surfacing in her. But instinctively, it didn’t seem to be only because of her mother’s illness.

Maybe Chi Xiaoman still didn’t understand the full extent of her hesitation, uncertainty, and worry. But she still clumsily pressed her face to Chen Yue’s, patted her back, and said softly,

“Everything will be fine, Chen Tong jiejie.”

“Okay.”

Chen Yue said that.

Afterward, she didn’t hold her for very long.

She let her go, stepped back, and looked at her for a long while under the corridor light. “Then I’ll go first.”

“Okay.” Chi Xiaoman looked at her with soft eyes. “Be careful on the way.”

“Mm.” Chen Yue agreed.

Then she slowly turned around.

Really, this was only a very ordinary goodbye. There was no difference from when they parted in Hong Kong a few months ago. It was just that there was one extra hug that wasn’t too long, and one gaze that wasn’t too intimate.

But watching Chen Yue turn to leave beneath the corridor light,

Chi Xiaoman suddenly felt a hollow sensation in her chest. It didn’t hurt much, and it wasn’t especially sore, but it felt numb, as if the mainspring in her heart had abruptly stopped turning, leaving it unable to provide enough power for her and turning her into a disassembled wooden puppet.

When would they meet again next time?

What would the next time be like?

She couldn’t help taking a step forward, wanting to ask.

But Chen Yue turned back first. “Chi Xiaoman.”

Standing a few meters away, she looked steadily at her, then suddenly smiled.

“Remember to eat breakfast.”

Chi Xiaoman froze.

After saying that, Chen Yue didn’t leave right away. Her phone rang again, a very quiet instrumental melody; it wasn’t too loud, and sounded like a river flowing silently. She stood under the corridor light, her face clearly illuminated. She kept looking at her with warm, tender eyes, as if patiently waiting for her reply.

And then Chi Xiaoman understood——

Whether she asked or not was probably not important.

What mattered more was the reply that had been missed after that question in the winter ten years ago, in that rented apartment in Beijing.

So she worked very hard to smile, and worked very hard to nod, telling Chen Tong,

“Okay.”

-

Would there still be a next time they met?

Of course there would.

Because there would still be the film’s later promotional period. They were destined to meet as director and actress, as partners and partners, as the Chen Tong and Xiaoman of ten years ago, and the Chen Yue and Xiaoman of ten years later... all those old and new identities.

What would the next meeting be like?

Chi Xiaoman didn’t quite know.

But she hoped it would be a good, warm meeting.

Summer was coming.

She hoped it would be summer.

After Chen Yue left, Chi Xiaoman closed the door and returned to her room. She hadn’t been alone for very long before she received a call from Shen Baozhi.

On the phone, Shen Baozhi suddenly asked her, “Xiaoman, have you eaten breakfast yet?”

Her tone sounded very much like she’d been assigned a task to ask.

Chi Xiaoman smiled. “Want to eat together?”

“Of course.” Shen Baozhi probably knew she had guessed it, because she laughed too. “I’m waiting for you downstairs at the hotel. We can have a chat while we eat.”

“Okay.” Chi Xiaoman agreed.

With Neon’s filming finished, she couldn’t even say what exactly she was feeling. Maybe there was disappointment, loneliness, confusion, but there also seemed to be a sense of ease, and joy that she had finally completed this thing.

Nine years.

She hadn’t imagined too much about life after Neon finished filming. Life had been like a whirlpool dragging her in; she struggled, fought to break free, only to fall into the next whirlpool. But she was grateful that she hadn’t lost herself in it for too long, and that she had still, as she wished, fulfilled the promise she had made in her twenties.

Because of that, she felt she ought to be allowed a completely wholehearted moment of happiness.

The weather was very nice that day.

Chi Xiaoman went to knock on Fang A-Yun’s door, confirmed that the other woman had already eaten breakfast, then got dressed neatly and went downstairs. When she entered the hotel buffet restaurant, she saw Shen Baozhi waiting for her at a table by the window.

Seeing her come in,

Shen Baozhi waved enthusiastically. “Here.”

Chi Xiaoman walked over quietly and sat down across from her. Seeing that Shen Baozhi had already gotten her some breakfast, she curved her eyes and said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Shen Baozhi looked at her with narrowed eyes, sounding almost emotional. “Xiaoman, you’re still exactly the same as when we first met.”

“What?” Chi Xiaoman didn’t understand.

“Mm, not exactly the same, because your condition looks much better; your face looks great today, and you seem a little healthier too.” Shen Baozhi took a sip of water. “But I knew your outward condition improved in the first place because of the role’s needs.”

“So I’m saying you’re still the same as when we first got to know each other. You’ll put in the greatest effort for the movie, to make Neon as good as possible.”

“Xiaoman, actually, you’ve always been very good.” Shen Baozhi said that suddenly.

Chi Xiaoman was stunned for a moment, then smiled. “Baozhi, why are you suddenly being so sentimental?”

“Maybe because the movie is over.” Light fell into the restaurant. Shen Baozhi smiled as she said, “Though we’ll still see each other after this, post-production still has some time to go. I don’t know when the next time will be, and I also don’t know whether the next time will have a good opportunity, so I thought I should apologize to you before you leave Hong Kong.”

“Why would you say that?” Chi Xiaoman was confused.

Shen Baozhi looked into her eyes, as if choosing her words. After a while, she slowly said,

“Because I underestimated you before; I thought you were a very fragile person, a timid person.”

Chi Xiaoman went still.

“But later I realized I was wrong.” Shen Baozhi smiled at her, her tone sincere.

“Because in that situation back then, it was you who insisted on getting Neon started. Even though at first you didn’t want to play Xiaoyu, later you gave me, Mr. Chen, and everyone else a perfect answer sheet; you made all of us believe you could do it, and after you made up your mind, you never said a single discouraging word.”

“After all, during the whole filming process, with so many difficulties, the public opinion outside, the car-crash incident that happened... Even my mommy and I felt this film was truly cursed by fate, but you never once said you wanted to give up. Even that time, when Mr. Chen suddenly asked for leave, you still bore all the pressure and got over that hurdle. Later, when Mr. Chen came back, you didn’t say a single harsh word to her either.”

“At first, I only wanted to work with you because of the script for Neon. Actually, I had a lot of hesitation then too, because I thought you might be a very troublesome, very fragile director, and you might bring a lot of unnecessary public opinion to the film...”

“But until now, with the movie finished, I finally understand—actually, you’re a very strong, very powerful director. You’ve always been protecting Neon, always protecting everyone in the crew...”

By this point, it seemed Shen Baozhi felt she had said too much, or perhaps because the movie was over and she was feeling sentimental, the corners of her eyes had grown a little red. “Xiaoman, I really admire you now.”

If this had been Chi Xiaoman before filming started, she would definitely have felt uneasy and unsettled because of Shen Baozhi’s words, convinced the person being described wasn’t her. At the very least, not the real her.

But right now, filming had ended. It was impossible to say whether she had been influenced by that brave Xiaoyu, or by Chen Yue’s repeated “you’re welcome,” “it’s okay,” and “being sensitive, fragile, and pessimistic is okay too”...

Chi Xiaoman looked blankly at Shen Baozhi’s reddened eyes, took a tissue and handed it over, then smiled softly. “Thank you, Baozhi.”

She had learned to say a simple “thank you” when someone praised her.

“You’re welcome.” Shen Baozhi said that to her, then took the tissue and wiped her tears. After pausing for a while, as if she had sorted out her emotions, she slowly said to her again, “So I also hope you can receive more love.”

Chi Xiaoman froze.

The restaurant bustled with people coming and going; the world in one’s thirties was cruel and vicious, and the room left for sentiment and kindness was very small. Yet Shen Baozhi still sincerely said to her,

“I hope even more that you can be as brave and bold in fighting for the things you want as you were when you fought for Neon, for Mr. Chen, and for us.”

She said every word clearly and forcefully,

“Because you deserve it most.”

-

Perhaps realizing she had become a little too emotional, Shen Baozhi didn’t say much more after that. She wiped her tears, urged Chi Xiaoman to hurry and eat breakfast, and then, in the middle of that, mentioned that in a few days she might go abroad to rest for a while, and would only be able to see her again once post-production began.

Adult partings always seemed to happen at the most ordinary moment.

But there was still something a little different about this one.

At least before leaving,

Shen Baozhi had specially sought her out and said so many sincere, heartfelt things.

Chi Xiaoman felt grateful.

After breakfast, she saw Shen Baozhi off to the car. Watching Shen Baozhi wave hard at her in the sunlight, she waved back too, and suddenly had the feeling again that “this time seems a little different.”

Was it because Neon was different to begin with?

Or because all the luck she had accumulated over the past nine years had exploded this year, bringing her so many sincere people who approached her without malice and with kindness?

Chi Xiaoman wasn’t sure.

After seeing Shen Baozhi off, she went back upstairs. She had originally wanted to check on Fang A-Yun, but the other woman wasn’t in her hotel room. She sent a text saying that Aunt Fang had invited her out shopping.

It was a rare sight.

Fang A-Yun was introverted, much like the current Chi Xiaoman, and often felt uneasy when facing the world. Now that she had made a good, cheerful friend like Aunt Fang, Chi Xiaoman was happy for her.

She also sent a text to Aunt Fang, hoping the other woman would take extra care of Fang A-Yun, who wasn’t good at going out.

After that, she slowly made her way back to her own hotel room.

On the way,

she couldn’t help thinking about her conversation with Shen Baozhi.

Shen Baozhi had told her: she should fight for some things for herself.

At the time, Chi Xiaoman had smiled and said to her: Neon is what I want to fight for.

“Really?”

Shen Baozhi looked at her. “Is Neon really what you want?”

Chi Xiaoman didn’t react in time.

So Shen Baozhi sighed. “Xiaoman, this script has already been filmed by now, and the screenwriter herself still hasn’t shown up once.”

Chi Xiaoman said nothing.

Shen Baozhi told her, “I understand you’re a deeply loyal person, and I also know you’re definitely not the kind of person who would drag so many people along just because you want something yourself. Honestly, from the very beginning I knew there must be some story I didn’t know behind this.”

“And I also don’t think Neon is something you yourself truly wanted in its entirety.”

In fact, Shen Baozhi’s words were truly abrupt, but they also made Chi Xiaoman faintly feel something——

as if that were really the case.

She couldn’t deny it: when she had been so desperate to get Neon filmed in the first place, part of the reason was Lang Lang. Later, once Neon was greenlit, her insistence on making it good came from every single person who contributed to the film—Aunt Fang, Fang A-Yun, Shen Baozhi, Chen Yue... She didn’t want to let them down, and she didn’t want to mess things up herself.

The remaining part was the Chi Xiaoman of ten years ago.

Then what about the Chi Xiaoman of ten years later?

What would she want?

What would she want to fight for?

Could she, just like she fought for investment and filming opportunities for Neon, and fought for Chen Yue’s leave, fight for the things she wanted for herself?

Chi Xiaoman couldn’t make sense of this question.

From twenty to thirty, she had given everything she had in order to get the film made; it seemed only by holding on to that one firm belief could she keep going. But in 2024, after the film was completed, facing the departure, advice, and guidance of so many people, she suddenly became lost and confused, not knowing what it was she truly wanted.

Chi Xiaoman wandered back to her room in a daze.

Yet unexpectedly, at her own door, she found a brown paper envelope placed there——

As a rule, anything of unknown origin ought to be handled carefully.

Chi Xiaoman pressed her lips together and stood at the doorway looking around, but did not see anyone who might have delivered the brown envelope. After hesitating for a while, she picked it up and felt the outside of it——

There was only one very small thing inside.

The material was somewhat hard.

From the shape,

it should be a USB drive?

Chi Xiaoman brought the brown envelope inside and, with a somewhat sinking heart, studied it for a long time. She found no name written on it, and no trace indicating who it belonged to. Who would leave her a USB drive at her door today?

Shen Baozhi? Not likely.

Chen Yue? That didn’t seem likely either.

Chi Xiaoman wracked her brain for a while.

In the end, she opened the envelope, and sure enough, it contained a USB drive.

It even looked brand new.

There were no signs of use, nor any clues that could prove whose USB it was.

It looked like there was only one way to find out: open it.

Chi Xiaoman thought as much, but remained cautious.

Before opening it——

she saved and backed up every file on her computer, and cleared out all the film content that could not be made public, before plugging the USB in.

What was surprising was——

there was very little on the drive.

It contained only a single lonely video; the cover image looked dim and unclear, a bit blurry.

Who would want to show her a video?

Chi Xiaoman hesitated in front of the computer for a moment. Unable to guess the answer, she eventually clicked it open——

The video was very blurry, as if it had been copied from some very old machine and preserved to this day.

The camera seemed fixed in a very low position, facing three indistinct people whose faces could not be seen clearly, clustered at the center.

The indoor screening room was dim; old movie posters hung on the wall in the distance, while shifting light and shadow flowed over the three faces. The three of them were squeezed together on a blue sofa watching a movie.

Blue projector light streamed through the room; one person suddenly walked over and picked up the camera. Her face opened to the lens, growing larger and larger, clearer and clearer. She wore a ridiculous green birthday hat and had dyed blond corn-silk curls.

She came over and picked up the camera; first she flashed a mysterious smile, then hid behind the lens herself, pointed the camera at another woman, and asked very directly,

“Chen Tong, what do you think you’ll be doing ten years from now?”

“Ten years from now? That far ahead?”

The camera shook as the woman in the middle answered. She had originally been watching the projection on the white wall with complete concentration. But after hearing the question, she still subconsciously looked at the camera.

She wore a pair of strong-looking nearsighted glasses, and her face was very blurry in the low-pixel video clip, but you could tell she was smiling. “If nothing unexpected happens, I’ll probably still be thinking about making movies.”

“Mm?” Lang Lang, outside the camera, didn’t seem satisfied. “That’s too little. Say more.”

“Mm...” So Chen Tong had no choice but to face the camera and think about it in depth, her expression focused. “Then I’ll try to make a few more films.”

Then.

Behind her——

in the dim light, another girl stooped low and secretly slipped away from beside the blue sofa. But as she quietly departed, she accidentally met the camera’s gaze. So she stood amid the crowded furniture and nervously made a “shh” gesture.

The camera jolted for a moment, and the light and shadow became even blurrier, making the face of the girl who had shushed them impossible to see clearly.

Chen Tong, however, seemed not to notice the movement at all. She lowered her face and was about to turn back to the movie——

“Then——” Lang Lang called her back somewhat abruptly.

“Mm?” Chen Tong looked at the camera again, patient as before.

Lang Lang cleared her throat outside the lens and asked, “Then what do you think about Chi Xiaoman?”

Chen Tong’s expression paused.

The camera shook. Lang Lang seemed to think this question might keep Chen Tong looking into the lens a little longer, so she kept asking, “What do you think she’ll be doing ten years from now?”

“Why don’t you ask Xiaoman herself?” Chen Tong narrowed her eyes and smiled.

In the background, the stooping Chi Xiaoman suddenly froze. Like a goldfish holding its breath, she puffed out her cheeks and kept her back hunched, maintaining a posture too scared to move.

In the video, Chen Tong seemed to notice nothing behind her. She glanced at the camera, then at Lang Lang behind it, and smiled. The smile spread to the corners of her eyes like cream on a cake.

She seemed not to resist the question at all; after thinking seriously for a while, she said softly,

“By then, she should already be a big star.”

Over her shoulder, the Chi Xiaoman holding her breath glanced at the camera, looking embarrassed but also feeling that business had to come first, so she kept her back bent and still tried hard to leave the frame quietly.

The camera cooperated too, shifting to film the route Chi Xiaoman took as she left with complete discretion. Then it turned back again, pinning all the images onto Chen Tong’s face, capturing the lines of her skin, the smile at the corners of her eyes, the loose strands of hair falling down from her temples a little more clearly.

“And then?” The camera moved closer; Lang Lang, from behind it, pressed on a little naggingly. “Say a bit more. We can look back at it later and see whether it was right.”

“Fine.” Chen Tong thought for a while, then lowered her chin cooperatively and described it.

“By then, she should be thirty, I guess.”

“Ohhh,” Lang Lang said. “Then by that time you’ll both be in your thirties.”

“Mm.” Chen Tong lowered her lashes.

“But she might still be the same as now: naive, easy to trust people, easy to be fooled, easy to be bullied. She’d always charge ahead headfirst; people might call her stupid, call her silly, because she’d do things that someone in their thirties shouldn’t do. But she’d still be kind, dependable, and cute; even if she suffered a lot, she’d still be willing to believe the world was beautiful. She might still not be good at lying, so when she lies, her eyes would dart away. She’d always worry that I was being bullied outside, so she’d come rushing over to protect me with great spirit whenever she needed to.”

At that point, Chen Tong couldn’t help but laugh. The way she laughed was very gentle, and full of acceptance. More than describing herself, she described Chi Xiaoman’s future.

She seemed to have no idea that behind her, Chi Xiaoman had stopped walking because of this, secretly wiping at her eyes.

Nor did she notice——

in the camera, the twenty-year-old Chi Xiaoman had already appeared holding a cake. The candle in the center was lit; the flame trembled in colorful light. In the blurry pixels, it looked like neon.

The Chi Xiaoman who had lit the candle lifted her face and looked at her. Wearing a pointed birthday hat, she looked into the camera with a face still young and unpolished, her hair a little messy, like weeds, or like fire, the corners of her eyes slightly red.

Outside the camera, thirty-year-old Chi Xiaoman sat in front of her desk. She saw her own pale, tired face illuminated by the colorful candlelight on the computer screen, saw how her face seemed to be lit by neon again.

She heard Lang Lang, from ten years ago outside the frame, add another question: “Then what do you want to say to the Chi Xiaoman ten years from now?”

And she also saw, in this video from ten years ago, the twenty-three-year-old Chen Tong generously pretend not to notice the twenty-year-old Chi Xiaoman behind her, and gently, warmly look at thirty-year-old Chi Xiaoman.

Within the blurry pixels, Chen Tong thought quite seriously for a while. There was a lot of hesitation in her eyes when she looked at the camera; it seemed she had many things she wanted to say, but in the end she only smiled at it, was silent for a moment, and finally chose the two simplest words to say aloud,

“Are you doing well?”

“Big star.”

[Author’s Note]

On time with the sixty-second day of Little Neon [sunglasses][sunglasses][sunglasses]

(I don’t know why, but lately the author’s note with sunglasses doesn’t show up anymore.)