The Bohui Cinema was located in the heart of the city, where every inch of land was worth its weight in gold. Tens of thousands of people entered and exited the theater daily. It was amidst this constant flow of people that Xu Zhi and Cai Yingying encountered Zhai Xiao and his girlfriend. His girlfriend sported mature-looking big wavy curls, unusual for their age group and wore a tight mini skirt that accentuated her long legs and slim waist. This Chai Jingjing was even prettier than in her photos.
Chai Jingjing held two buckets of popcorn, taking the movie tickets from Zhai Xiao’s hand. They exchanged smiles as they passed through the ticket check. Zhai Xiao was indeed handsome; no wonder Cai Yingying couldn’t forget him. The coffin lid of past relationships must be nailed shut tightly, for even the slightest gap could allow for a resurgence.
What had been finally laid to rest was now being dredged up and chewed over again. At this moment, Cai Yingying’s heart was in turmoil. She watched the backs of the attractive couple and said to Xu Zhi through gritted teeth, “Xu Zhi, I’ve made up my mind. I want to repeat a year and apply to Qing University.”
As the two entered after having their tickets checked, Xu Zhi also held two buckets of popcorn, though they were nearly empty. She glanced at the couple and asked, “Did they both apply to Qing University?”
“Qing University’s School of Architecture. I’m not sure about Chai Jingjing, but I heard Zhai Xiao got in through special recruitment. She seems to be from an ethnic minority group, so she might have gotten some score reduction or bonus points.”
“It can’t be that many points,” Xu Zhi was also surprised. People like Chen Luzhou must be rare, so she asked, “But do you want to study architecture? Qing University’s admission score isn’t low. I heard there might be educational reforms next year, and there might not be elective modules anymore. The total score will still be 750, and I estimate Qing University will require at least 620, maybe even higher for the School of Architecture.”
Cai Yingying asked, “What does that mean in practical terms?”
The VIP room was on the third floor. As they followed the staff’s directions, Xu Zhi explained while walking, “Let’s put it this way. We currently have four subjects, right? You can only lose a maximum of 130 points, which means you can only lose about 30 points per subject on average. Language, Math, and English are okay, but do you know what 270 points in the comprehensive science test means?”
“You mean I’d need to score 90 points each in Biology and Chemistry? Damn, is that even humanly possible?” Cai Yingying was instantly in awe of Xu Zhi, her heart filled with shock and admiration. “Wow, Zhi Total, you’re amazing! You even scored 273 in the comprehensive science test.”
Xu Zhi’s main weakness was the elective module. Usually, top students scoring above 700 would get full marks of 60 in the elective, but she only got 56. Otherwise, with 742 points, she would have been more secure in her admission to University A’s School of Architecture, instead of worrying every day about being reassigned to a different major.
They were so engrossed in their conversation that they didn’t realize the theater was quite far and required taking an elevator. Hearing Cai Yingying’s praise, Xu Zhi shook her head. She used to think she was quite impressive but later discovered there were always people better than her. She believed Chen Luzhou’s comprehensive science score must be higher than hers. With his total score, his comprehensive science score was probably around 280. “Anyway, that’s the general idea. I support your decision to apply to Qing University.”
“Ah, forget it. Even if I repeated from primary school, I couldn’t achieve such scores. Well, Zhai Xiao is indeed impressive, maintaining such good grades while in a relationship,” Cai Yingying immediately deflated. Just then, they entered the theater. She looked around and said, “There’s no one here? But it’s not the private screening room I imagined. I thought it would be a private booth.”
Xu Zhi also surveyed the surroundings. It looked similar to the theaters downstairs, just smaller and more exquisite, seating about twenty people. There were a couple of seats and single seats. A beam of quiet white light shone from the projector behind them as if everything had been prepared long ago.
Their seats were in the center, the best viewing area. Every time Xu Zhi bought movie tickets on Meituan, the system would automatically recommend the best available seats in the viewing area, and for empty screenings, it was always these two seats.
“I feel like someone has booked the entire theater,” Cai Yingying said as she sat down, taking in the luxurious decor of the theater – the space-age seats and the hot coffee by their side. She suddenly sensed something amiss and looked around restlessly, trying to find clues. “Am I really this lucky? Did I win the lottery?”
Xu Zhi checked the time. The movie was about to start, and the entire theater was still empty. She asked confusedly, “Did Old Cai buy some luxury package again? Like that time when your dad bought that sofa and you guys got a free high-end spa treatment?”
“Don’t remind me of that high-end spa,” The lights in the theater dimmed, and the screen’s light illuminated their faces as movie trailers began to play. Cai Yingying finally told her with a complicated expression, “I didn’t have the heart to tell you, but it was just a blind massage. But I have to say, it was quite comfortable. Old Cai went once and immediately got a membership card there. So that’s how business works, continuous consumption, one thing leading to another. Besides, there’s no such thing as a free lunch in this world.” After saying this, Cai Yingying took out her phone and looked at it vigilantly, saying, “I hope they’re not going to make us pay after watching.”
Just as she finished speaking, the familiar classic movie opening theme “dun dun dun” began. Xu Zhi sighed, lazily turning her gaze to the screen, and said, “Well, we’re already here. Let’s just consider it as accompanying me on my birthday.”
Xu Zhi was a typical Chinese person, upholding the beautiful Chinese tradition of peace-loving and laid-back attitude – “We’re already here, it’s the New Year, the person is already dead, still a child, it’s my birthday today.”
Mainly, she wanted to watch this movie. It was an American film about a boy with facial deformities who was abandoned by his parents and sent to an orphanage. He was arguably the most obedient child in the entire orphanage, but due to his ugly appearance, no family was willing to adopt him. The orphanage director liked him the most and felt sorry for him. However, whenever families came to inquire about adoption, his file was always placed last. Finally, when a single man offered to adopt him, little did they know that the gifts bestowed by fate always came with a price…
Because the film was filled with the dark and base aspects of human nature, this director’s works always fearlessly challenged social hot topics, resulting in polarized reviews and a flood of public opinion. Therefore, there were very few screenings in China, with only one or two theaters in the entire Qingyi City showing it, and even then, only during the sparsely attended midnight screenings. But she liked this director, always feeling that Carl Two, the director, was full of challenges to human nature and must be a person with many stories.
So when she found out that the movie ticket Cai Yingying gave her was for this screening, she was extremely delighted. She didn’t even think about why it was such a coincidence, only feeling that the fortune teller she visited at the beginning of the year wasn’t wrong – her luck this year was indeed good.
“Between Old Xu’s laptop this morning and this movie, which is more surprising?” Cai Yingying asked her.
Xu Zhi smiled rarely, the light from the screen falling into her eyes, making them sparkle like rippling water. “He bought that laptop a long time ago and just hid it here and there. I knew about it. But this was completely unexpected. Carl Two’s status in my heart is second only to Old Xu. I thought I wouldn’t have a chance to see this movie this year. His films are easily banned.”
Cai Yingying said, “I still feel something’s not right.”
Xu Zhi fed her a piece of popcorn, as if it were a reassuring pill, “Relax. If we have to pay later, I’ll treat you, okay? Just consider it as accompanying me on my birthday.”
Cai Yingying mumbled, “Your money isn’t just money, you know. It doesn’t grow on trees. Besides, Old Xu has been scammed out of so much money recently – wow, such a fussy person, I hope he doesn’t do anything rash.”
“So, stop talking nonsense and focus on the movie. I need to go back and keep him company after this,” Xu Zhi said, regaining her focus.
Halfway through the movie, Cai Yingying realized that they weren’t the only ones in this high-end, luxurious VIP theater. There was a solitary figure sitting alone in the last row. She didn’t know when this person had arrived; they weren’t there when she and Xu Zhi entered, as the lights were bright then and they couldn’t have missed such a presence. He must have come in after the movie started.
Because the figure looked like an uncommonly handsome guy, Cai Yingying couldn’t help but turn her head to look in that direction a couple more times. Due to the distance and the fact that she wasn’t wearing her glasses, coupled with the flickering light from the movie screen casting shadows on the person, and him wearing a plain black outfit with a black baseball cap pulled low – so low that it was unclear if he could even see the movie screen – she could only vaguely make out a smooth, attractive jawline. The lower half of his body was blocked by the seats in front, revealing only half of a broad, sturdy chest and half of a cool face under the brim of the baseball cap.
Cai Yingying had a vague impression of the figure but didn’t think too much about it. She just cautiously reminded Xu Zhi, “I’m going to the bathroom. There’s a guy in the back, keep an eye out.”
Xu Zhi, fully engrossed in the movie, didn’t turn her head and just hummed in response. It seemed Cai Yingying’s words had somewhat disrupted her mood, pulling her emotions out of the movie for about half a minute. Unable to immediately re-engage with the plot, she inexplicably turned her head to look.
Because the entire story of the movie takes place in an orphanage, the director’s filming technique was somewhat like a hidden, peeping camera, so the overall picture quality was dim and gloomy, making the entire theater pitch black.
That tall, lean figure was hidden in the darkness, lonely and desolate as if the entire person had merged with the theater’s gloomy atmosphere.
Xu Zhi turned her gaze back to the movie screen, trying to watch the film quietly.
On the screen, another child was being adopted by a couple. The little boy watched their departing figures with disappointment, and the director comforted him –
“Miracles happen every day. Maybe one day it will happen to you. The key is to always be prepared. Don’t be discouraged. Every apple pie has its reason for existing.”
The scene changed, and the director said to the deputy director –
“Although every apple pie has its reason for existing, my dear old friend, you still have to allow for people who don’t like apple pie.”
An adopter, while flipping through files, bluntly said –
“Deep down, we’re all savage animals. The people we see are just tied up with ropes, tamed. This situation is called civilization. It’s not that human nature is inherently good.”
“Being ugly isn’t against the law. Similarly, me hating ugly people isn’t against the law either.”
The little boy meets the single man. The single man had just finished an unavoidable social engagement, drunk to oblivion, lying disheveled on a park bench in a deep sleep. A bird had dropped its droppings on his face, and the little boy used a paper to wipe it off –
“It seems that ugly people don’t have it good when they’re young, and it doesn’t get much better when they grow up.”
Scene after scene, as the plot reached its climax, the little boy fell in love, and the picture quality became slightly brighter –
“I want to make love to her. I can wear a helmet.”
The flickering light and shadows in the projection room swayed like rippling waves, embracing spring water and starry skies, ambiguously and hazily sweeping back and forth across their seemingly calm faces, as if the moon was secretly winking.
“Chen Luzhou,” Xu Zhi called out calmly, without turning her head, still staring intently at the movie screen.
“Mm,” he responded, his voice low and lazy.
“Come here.”
There was a moment of silence behind her. Xu Zhi never turned to look at him, continuously focusing on watching the movie. After a while, she heard someone stand up behind her, footsteps dragging and leisurely, slowly coming down the steps of the side aisle.
As soon as he sat down, Xu Zhi unsurprisingly smelled that familiar faint scent of sage shower gel. She didn’t speak again, nor did she pay attention to him. At that moment, her phone rang. It was a WeChat message from Cai Yingying –
Little Dish: I have something to do, I’ll be back to find you later.
Xu Zhi: Where are you going?
Little Dish: It’s nothing, you watch the movie. I’m going to meet a friend.
Xu Zhi locked her phone and tossed it into her bag, ignoring him and not initiating any conversation. However, Chen Luzhou’s presence was too strong; even sitting quietly, he was hard to ignore. Perhaps he was deliberately trying to minimize his presence. After sitting down, he didn’t move at all, one arm crossed over his chest, the other propping up his elbow, covering his nose, expressionlessly focused on the movie, but to little effect.
He received a phone call, keeping his voice very low, coldly responding with two “mms” before hanging up, probably not even hearing what the other person said.
Xu Zhi leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, lazily not looking at him, and said, “Is it that no matter who calls you right now, you’ll agree to anything?”
She then took out her phone and dialed him. Chen Luzhou’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He answered, and Xu Zhi put the phone to her ear, looking at him with a somewhat challenging gaze, “Chen Luzhou, you’re a dog.”
He smiled, his gaze unusually clear and gentle as he looked at her as if he would accept anything she said, “Mm, I am.”
The spring breeze melts the snow, moistening things silently, all emotions melting into his eyes.
“Boring,” Xu Zhi hung up, more or less guessing what was going on with the movie, but not knowing how much he had done behind the scenes, she could only make wild guesses.
Men fear most when women call them boring. Chen Luzhou glanced at her nonchalantly, slowly twirling his phone, his youthful, clean brows slightly furrowed, his expression quite sincere as he self-reflected for a moment, then pretentiously asked, “Then what would you find interesting?”
Xu Zhi didn’t answer. The movie was probably nearing its end, and Xu Zhi had missed a large part of the plot. She couldn’t understand it now, but could only force herself to keep watching.
Chen Luzhou was rarely called boring, especially by Xu Zhi. He felt somewhat unconvinced in his heart. The youthful pride was still high. He leaned back in his chair and said lazily and disdainfully, “If that’s how you judge what’s interesting or not, you’re pretty boring too.”
“Fine, we’re both boring,” Xu Zhi couldn’t be bothered to argue further and stood up. “Two boring people watching a boring movie together, it’s utterly boring. I’m going home.”
Chen Luzhou lazily stretched out his long legs, directly blocking her path. As Xu Zhi turned to go the other way, her wrist was caught. He was afraid of hurting her, so his grip wasn’t strong, but the force was perfectly controlled. Xu Zhi had experienced this before in Linshi.
His palm was warm against her skin, and Xu Zhi felt that patch of skin tingling and gradually burning up. She wasn’t sure if it was his heat or hers that was hotter. Perhaps it was theirs. He didn’t say anything, just looked up at her like an unwanted puppy, his eyes full of apology, but his mouth tightly and coldly set.
Chen Luzhou had just taken off his cap and hung it on the back of the chair. Xu Zhi now noticed that he had gotten a haircut. The bangs in front were trimmed into a very short layer of stubble, thinly clinging to his scalp, making his forehead look full and clean, much more spirited. His eyebrows and eyes were clearer, more handsome, and sharper than usual.
From the first day Xu Zhi met him, she thought he was too smart. She liked to associate with smart people but wouldn’t choose someone too smart as a boyfriend because it was tiring. But Chen Luzhou was different. He was interesting and humorous, smart yet simple, sometimes just a big boy, but ultimately still a smart person, unable to escape the flaw of smart people – thinking too highly of themselves.
The movie was still playing, though no one was watching anymore. But no matter how turbulent the atmosphere here was, the movie plot continued tirelessly, just like the Earth – it wouldn’t stop spinning if someone was missing.
Chen Luzhou hadn’t intended to say anything definitive or to make a complete break in their relationship. Some words, once said, might be irretrievable. But if they parted like this tonight, it might end here.
He stood up, leaning on the back of the seat in front of Xu Zhi. In the end, he couldn’t help but ask, his tone and expression quite sincere, but unable to hide a hint of emotion, “What would be interesting then? Is dating interesting?”
Xu Zhi thought he was being a dog and blurted out, “You think everyone wants to date you?”
As soon as she said it, there was heat in her chest from being exposed, and her breathing was shallow. But who wasn’t hot? Chen Luzhou was hot too, his heart beating faster than ever before, but he was angry.
Chen Luzhou, certain she wouldn’t leave, let go of her hand. He put his hands in his pockets and leaned back, his neck slightly tilted, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He thought slowly, his eyelids lowered coldly as he looked at her, and said bluntly, “Mm, dating isn’t interesting either. Is kissing interesting then?”
“Chen Luzhou, you can’t take it.”
“Is that so? Who can’t take it?” He laughed instead. “Wasn’t it you who blocked me on WeChat? What did I say?”
“Wait a moment,” Xu Zhi said, her gaze suddenly fixed intently on the movie screen behind him.
Chen Luzhou didn’t need to turn around to know what was happening, because the sound of the two characters kissing was echoing romantically throughout the theater.
“…”
“Finished watching?” His tone was resigned and lazy.
Xu Zhi had already sat down, watching with bright eyes and flushed cheeks. She said, “Every time I watch his films, I can never find the complete version. They’re all cut versions. Many movie bloggers say the essence of Carl Two’s films has been cut out.”
Chen Luzhou’s argument was cut off mid-way, the anger stuck in his throat and swallowed back. He turned his face away and swallowed. He felt like he might get that disease in the future, so he was extremely annoyed. He sat down too, casually grabbed his baseball cap hanging on the back of the chair, and mercilessly slammed it onto her forehead in retaliation, completely blocking her view.
Xu Zhi didn’t move, just adjusted the cap to sit properly. When she looked up again, the scene had already changed, returning to the gloomy, dark quality. She pointed at the movie screen and said half-jokingly, “I can answer your question from earlier now. Dating isn’t interesting, kissing isn’t interesting either, dating and kissing together isn’t interesting, but kissing without dating is very interesting. Look at them, how interesting.”
Chen Luzhou: “…”
Xu Zhi had discussed this with Cai Yingying before. They both agreed that Chen Luzhou had feelings for her. Later, Cai Yingying also indirectly asked Zhu Yangqi, who said Chen Luzhou had many concerns. Xu Zhi roughly knew why. As said before, Chen Luzhou thought too highly of himself. Did he think she couldn’t find anyone better if he left? Or was he afraid she would cling to him? But she hadn’t said she wanted to date.
Xu Zhi had always been the type to tackle problems head-on. Overthinking some things was just mental exhaustion, tiring for both oneself and others. It was better to solve problems as they arose.
The biggest loss in life is living in worry about the future. This was the lesson Mrs. Lin Qiudie had taught her in the years after she left.
The movie scenes were still rolling frame by frame. Xu Zhi knew it was almost over. She watched as the screen froze on Carl Two’s classic line, which appeared at the end of each of his movies.
“You will thank every past version of yourself, and also regret every past self who didn’t seize the moment.”
Carl Two was still Carl Two, but no matter how good this movie was, it wasn’t as attractive as the person sitting quietly beside her. Her mind wandered freely as she said, “Chen Luzhou, my dad was scammed out of 80,000 yuan a few days ago. Although we’ve reported it to the police and filed a case, the police told us that the money is unrecoverable. My dad regrets it. I had urged him to get himself a new computer and phone, but he refused. Now he not only didn’t get the items, but the money is gone too. This is called losing both the money and the goods.”
She continued, “Anyway, overthinking some things is completely useless. That’s why I said you can’t take it.”
As the final credits of the movie were about to end, in the few seconds before the theater lights came on, Xu Zhi naturally leaned over.
Chen Luzhou lowered his head, his gaze dark and cold, devoid of any emotion as he looked at her. Outside the theater, there was a gradual rustling sound; the staff would soon come in to clean. They didn’t have much time left. He tried to speak several times but swallowed his words back each time. His eyes were slightly red. He turned away twice, looking elsewhere, pausing for a long time. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down uneasily. Between them, there was an indescribable intensity mixed with a hint of lingering ambiguity. Finally, he turned back, looked down at Xu Zhi who was looking up at him from in front of his seat, and said through gritted teeth –
“You want to play with me, is that it? Fine, don’t cry later.”
Xu Zhi couldn’t help but tilt her head up, unexpectedly giving him a quick, light kiss on the lips. “I’ll happily see you off at the airport.”
Author’s Note:
“At our core, we are all savage animals. The people we see are just tied up with ropes, tamed. This situation is called civilization. It’s not that human nature is inherently good.” – Schopenhauer.
The biggest loss in life is living in worry about the future – the Internet.
The movie is all made up. Carl Two is also made up.
Finally wrote to this point. I’ve been stuck for a while recently. The plot after this will be quite exciting, and the progress bar might move very quickly. After much consideration, I felt this kiss had to be handled this way, so I’ll take responsibility here first. There will be red envelopes in the comments of this chapter to thank everyone for their patient waiting.