Chen Xi got in the car, and without waiting for Qin Lie to ask, she began telling him about the interview process in vivid detail.

Qin Lie drove while listening, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Chen Xi added the interviewer’s WeChat in the car, then stared at her phone screen with eager eyes, waiting for the other party to accept her friend request.

Qin Lie glanced at Chen Xi and asked with a smile, “Are you nervous?”

Chen Xi nodded.

“With only three days, I don’t even know what I’m supposed to draw yet. I am a bit nervous.”

She suddenly remembered something and asked curiously, “The interview kept mentioning Ms. Leng. Who is this, Ms. Leng?”

Qin Lie: “Her name is Leng Ran. She’s an alumna several years ahead of me, a very capable person.”

Chen Xi looked at Qin Lie and curiously pronounced the name: “Leng Ran?”

Qin Lie said seriously: “Leng as in cold, Ran as in burning.”

Chen Xi noticed that when Qin Lie mentioned this person, his tone unconsciously carried a hint of respect.

Having known him for so long, she had never seen Qin Lie speak of anyone with this kind of tone.

She couldn’t help but be very curious and asked, “This Leng Ran, is she very capable?”

Qin Lie nodded, “She’s the boss of Tangdou Film Industry.”

Chen Xi made an “oh” sound, but still didn’t understand what was so impressive about this person.

Qin Lie casually asked, “In recent years, are there any animated films that left a deep impression on you?”

Chen Xi thought for a moment and said, “Last year’s summer season had one called ‘Cicada’s Summer Vacation.'”

“It tells the story of five children returning to their rural hometown to live with their grandfather, who lives alone. Very ordinary, but so beautifully done it made you want to cry.”

Qin Lie smiled and asked again, “Any others?”

Chen Xi: “The year before that had one too, a suspenseful animation called ‘Forsythia Welcomes Spring.'”

“By the end, I had goosebumps all over. The plot was so brilliant, and the art style was very unique too.”

Qin Lie: “Any others?”

Chen Xi thought for a moment, then her eyes suddenly lit up.

“A few years ago, there was an ancient-style action animation called ‘Demon King Returns.’ That was the first time a domestic animated film achieved a word-of-mouth comeback through grassroots promotion, earning several hundred million at the box office.”

Chen Xi leaned back in her seat, looking at the traffic crawling along the Third Ring Road at a snail’s pace.

She sighed, “It was truly excellent. I think it was after that film that I gradually began to have expectations for domestic animated movies.”

Qin Lie gripped the steering wheel and glanced at Chen Xi with a smile.

He said quietly, “You might not have noticed, but all three of these films were produced by Tangdou.”

Chen Xi looked at Qin Lie in surprise.

“Really? I didn’t notice, because the styles of these films were so different.”

Qin Lie nodded. He pondered for a moment, then corrected, “Not Tangdou productions, but Leng Ran productions.”

In his years in the workplace, there weren’t many people he admired. Leng Ran was one of them.

Chen Xi: “I really couldn’t have imagined that these three films came from one person’s hands.”

Qin Lie smiled and turned the steering wheel.

He said, “She’s the type of person who doesn’t do what others expect. Just like this time—she’s from the film industry, yet suddenly she’s collaborating with a short video platform to co-produce an animated series.”

Chen Xi looked at Qin Lie with shock. “This animated series is hers?”

Qin Lie nodded, “She’s the producer and head director.”

Chen Xi’s eyes brightened, and she asked incredulously, “You mean I might get to work on Leng Ran’s animated series?”

Qin Lie smiled at her, “Depends on what you produce in these three days.”

Chen Xi suddenly deflated like a frost-bitten eggplant, slumping in her seat and sighing deeply.

“Only three days. This is killing me.”

Looking at the towering buildings under the clear sky, she had never felt such a desperate desire for an opportunity, for a shining admission ticket, as she did at this moment.

Near noon, Qin Lie took Chen Xi directly to a Japanese restaurant in Shuangjing.

In the quiet private room, soft music flowed gently.

Qin Lie peeled a langoustine and placed it in the wasabi sauce in front of Chen Xi.

“Try it. The sashimi here is very fresh.”

Chen Xi nodded, but her eyes were on her phone screen.

A few minutes ago, the interviewer had accepted Chen Xi’s friend request and sent over the story outline for the animated series.

Chen Xi couldn’t wait and dove headfirst into the story, losing all appetite for food.

She picked up the langoustine and ate it, her eyes suddenly brightening.

“Delicious, it’s sweet.”

She looked up at Qin Lie with a smile, her gaze full of pleasant surprise, then immediately lowered her head to continue reading the story.

“This story isn’t bad at all.”

Chen Xi suddenly looked up at Qin Lie.

Qin Lie smiled and hummed in acknowledgment, placing several peeled langoustines on Chen Xi’s plate.

Chen Xi grabbed her chopsticks and swept them clean, swaying with delight at how good they tasted.

“Guess what the story is about?”

Chen Xi asked Qin Lie with a smile.

She saw the salmon belly, picked up a piece, dipped it in wasabi sauce, and tasted it, her face lighting up with joy.

Looking at the person in front of him, Qin Lie seemed to feel a sense of refreshment and happiness.

While peeling shrimp, he cooperatively guessed, “Something related to the Mogao Caves?”

Chen Xi’s eyes widened. “How did you know?”

Qin Lie: “Leng Ran mentioned the nine-colored deer to me.”

Chen Xi nodded, “The Mogao Caves murals are probably the inspiration for this story.”

Qin Lie: “What’s it about?”

Chen Xi: “Do you know what a caisson is? It’s the ceiling overhead.”

“The caissons in the Mogao Caves are particularly beautiful, with many different patterns. One pattern is called ‘Three Rabbits Sharing Ears’—I don’t know if you remember it.”

Qin Lie shook his head, “I haven’t paid attention to that.”

Chen Xi smiled and glared at him, “And you call yourself a Dunhuang native.”

She searched for an image of the Three Rabbits Sharing Ears on her phone and showed it to Qin Lie.

She explained, “Starting from the Sui Dynasty caves, there began to be caissons with the Three Rabbits Sharing Ears pattern, symbolizing fertility and blessing, eternal life and continuity.”

Qin Lie looked down at the image on the phone: within double-layered eight-petaled lotus flowers, three rabbits with upright ears chased each other playfully.

Without wings, they seemed to be flying joyfully.

“Not bad.”

He handed the phone back to Chen Xi.

Chen Xi took the phone and said excitedly, “The story is called ‘Crescent Town,’ and the protagonist is a little rabbit.”

“She’s picked up by a poor young painter and later becomes a little apprentice, painting with the painter in the caves, helping him support his elderly mother, pay for his younger brother’s education, and find a suitable husband for his sister.”

“The caves of that time were all donated by patrons, and painters would include the patrons in the murals.”

“That painter secretly liked a patron who had become a young widow, and the little rabbit even helped them get together.”

After hearing this, Qin Lie said, “Isn’t the story a bit flat?”

Chen Xi nodded but said happily, “It’s supposed to be flat. No contrived mysteries with anticlimactic endings, no conspiracies and schemes, no national hatred or family vendettas.”

“This story is about ordinary people’s daily lives, the trivial matters of life, the joys and sorrows of ancient common folk.”

Chen Xi leaned closer to Qin Lie, her eyes full of joy as she said, “Have you ever seen stories written for ancient common people? Sunrise and sunset, morning clouds and cooking smoke, the distress of a single penny, the security of a bushel of rice, and secret promises of love by Crescent Spring that no one knows about.”

“In the long river of time, so many touching ordinary stories—I only saw them in childhood cartoons. Why can’t we see them anymore these years?”

Qin Lie suddenly leaned forward too and kissed Chen Xi’s forehead.

“Then go and make them, let people see such stories again.”

Chen Xi nodded, then said with some curiosity, “The more I think about this script, the better it gets. I wonder who wrote it.”

She lowered her head and continued reading the story outline.

The afternoon sunlight spread across the floor, warm and cozy.

Chen Xi’s heart also seemed to be illuminated by this unexpected story, that kind of ordinary warmth and deep, flowing affection that she yearned for.

At this moment, she clearly realized that no matter what, she wanted to get that admission ticket and work alongside these excellent people.

Because what they were doing was exactly what she loved from the depths of her soul—something she could boast about in her next life.

Returning home, Chen Xi pulled out her sketchbook from her bag and ran to the balcony.

In the distance, the CCTV building gleamed in the sunlight. That place had created, and was still creating, countless dreams.

Chen Xi sat down and opened her sketchbook.

She was going to draw her dream.

Qin Lie went to the company and worked all afternoon. When he returned, he saw Chen Xi still drawing on the balcony.

The sky was gradually darkening, and the wind had grown cool.

Qin Lie walked to the balcony and bent down to look at Chen Xi’s afternoon work.

“How’s it going? Going smoothly?”

Chen Xi put down her pen and ran both hands through her hair, scratching it in frustration.

“I’ve drawn two versions, and I don’t feel anything.”

Qin Lie smiled and squeezed her neck, “Take a break. Let’s go out and get something to eat.”

Chen Xi shook her head, turning her hair into a bird’s nest.

Qin Lie: “Come on, let’s go eat that Jixi cold noodles I told you about.”

Chen Xi looked up at Qin Lie through her messy hair and said reluctantly, “Alright then.”

The two left in the dusk, holding hands as they walked through Beijing’s streets, scattered with fallen leaves.

Chen Xi didn’t say much along the way, maintaining a somewhat absent-minded air.

Qin Lie suddenly asked her, “Do you want to see the previous versions of the design drafts?”

Chen Xi turned sharply to look at Qin Lie. “You can get them?”

Qin Lie: “I can try.”

The person who interviewed Chen Xi today was Leng Ran’s assistant, who had a good personal relationship with Qin Lie.

The assistant told Qin Lie that Leng Ran had gone to Shanghai this week and would return to Beijing in three days, finalizing everything upon her return.

Having Chen Xi design the main characters for this animated series within three days was almost impossible.

But Leng Ran was exactly that kind of person—decisive and unwavering.

Leng Ran’s assistant had offered to show Chen Xi the previous versions that Leng Ran had rejected, to prevent Chen Xi from going in the wrong direction.

In Qin Lie’s view, this wouldn’t necessarily be helpful.

Because Chen Xi was facing Leng Ran, and even if she took this shortcut through his connections this time, when she truly stood before that woman someday, even the slightest difference in aesthetic sense and comprehension would be exposed and dismissed by that woman.

So he hadn’t immediately accepted this favor, saying he needed to ask Chen Xi’s opinion first.

He originally didn’t want to mention this to Chen Xi, to avoid disturbing her.

But seeing her so anxious, he felt somewhat reluctant to leave her be.

He suddenly smiled, marveling at how he had become so unprincipled.

In his understanding, there had never been any shortcuts to take.

His team was also composed entirely of people who had gotten in based on pure ability.

But when it came to Chen Xi, all his principles seemed to lose their effectiveness in an instant.

He just wanted to make her happy.

“How about it? Do you need them?”

Seeing Chen Xi remain silent, Qin Lie asked again.

Chen Xi walked silently for a few steps with her head down.

She looked up at Qin Lie, smiled, and said, “Let’s forget it.”

Qin Lie: “Why?”

Chen Xi: “I’m afraid that if I ever really get to stand in front of Leng Ran someday, I’ll feel guilty.”

Although having the previous design versions for reference could help avoid going in the wrong direction.

But it would interrupt her thought process, which wouldn’t necessarily be a good thing.

Qin Lie rubbed Chen Xi’s hand with his thumb and said nothing more.

At some point, the street lamps had lit up, their warm yellow light quietly spilling across the ground.

Chen Xi suddenly smiled and said, “Beijing’s autumn is so comfortable—the air is moist, and the wind isn’t harsh.”

Qin Lie: “You like it?”

Chen Xi nodded, “Mm, I like it.”

The two swayed their joined hands as they strolled into the depths of the small street.

No matter how big the city, there are always small neighborhoods, warm with the smoke and fire of human life.