With ten seconds left on the countdown, Liu Mao — a man who had never in his life lifted a woman’s skirt — steeled himself, stepped forward, crouched down in front of the bridesmaid, and lifted the hem of her dress just enough to retrieve the shoe tied around her calf.

When he looked back up, her expression hadn’t changed in the slightest. His face, on the other hand, had gone the deep red of a pig’s liver.

The group erupted in laughter, crying “success, success!” — though whether they meant the bride had been successfully retrieved, or that another pair had successfully found each other, was anyone’s guess.

Xu Huaisong and Ruan Yu’s wedding followed traditional form: outdoor wedding photography in the afternoon, a banquet in the evening. By the time they had seen off the last of the guests and wrapped up, it was well past seven o’clock.

Back at the new apartment, Ruan Yu — who had changed through seven wedding outfits over the course of the day — collapsed face-first onto the sofa. “Getting married is exhausting. Thank goodness it only happens once in a lifetime…”

Xu Huaisong brought his travel bag inside, came back out, and sat on the sofa, letting her head rest on his lap. He kneaded her shoulders and said: “Rest for a bit — we still have to go out. The premiere is also a once-in-a-lifetime thing.”

Ruan Yu’s half-closed eyes snapped open. She let out a quiet “ah.”

That was right.

At the start of the year, when both families had settled on this auspicious date during National Day for the wedding, they hadn’t given anything else a thought — and then, as luck would have it, the film’s release date was announced not long ago, landing its premiere at eight-thirty on the very same evening as the wedding.

Less than an hour from now.

“I remembered this morning, then got so busy I nearly forgot,” Ruan Yu said, rolling over onto her side to settle into a more comfortable position. She tilted her head back to look at him. “You didn’t secretly coordinate with the production crew to pull something on me again this time, did you?”

Xu Huaisong laughed. “We just got through a whole wedding — I was busy too. When would I have had time to conspire with anyone?”

Besides, the last time he had joined forces with the production crew for the proposal, it hadn’t been out of thin air. The crew wasn’t running a charity — they wouldn’t simply do whatever he asked. They had agreed because there was something in it for them. The production company planned to film the proposal and use it as a post-credits scene, making the story behind the film one of their promotional angles.

The film doing well was a shared victory for Huanshi and Ruan Yu — which was why Cen Rongzhen had agreed to work with Xu Huaisong.

Ruan Yu had just been thinking along the same lines, and asked: “Should we wear masks when we go? If the post-credits scene plays and someone recognizes us, that could get awkward.”

Xu Huaisong tapped her lightly on the forehead, signaling she was overthinking it. “The post-credits footage is aerial — all you can make out is the top of your head. Besides, wearing masks would be the surest way to give ourselves away.”

She said “oh,” checked the time, struggled up off his lap, and said: “I smell like alcohol — I’m going to shower.”

Xu Huaisong stood up too. “I’ll shower as well.”

At tonight’s banquet, he had blocked half her drinks. He didn’t flush, so it didn’t show on his face — but he was genuinely quite close to his limit.

The moment Ruan Yu heard “I’ll shower as well,” she knew something was up. She pointed a finger at him and warned as she turned away: “Don’t you dare follow me in — or we’ll be too busy to make the premiere.”

Xu Huaisong let out a quiet, perplexed sound, as though genuinely baffled. “Mrs. Xu, if I’m not mistaken, our home has two bathrooms. Why would I need to squeeze into yours?”

Ruan Yu sputtered.

There it was — the consequence of registering their marriage early and indulging in premarital intimacy with such regularity. On the very first day of their marriage, her husband had entirely lost interest in the idea.

She let out a low huff and walked to the bathroom without looking back.

Xu Huaisong smiled, caught her hand, pressed his lips to her earlobe, and murmured meaningfully: “There really isn’t time right now. After the film, we have the whole night.”

The tips of her ears went warm. She pushed him away with her elbow. “Who said anything about the whole night!” And shut the door.

Xu Huaisong smiled to himself, walked into the other bathroom, showered, and then brewed a pot of honey tea to help clear the alcohol from his system. He left a cup for Ruan Yu too. When she came out, he set it beside her and then helped blow-dry her hair.

Ruan Yu drank while scrolling through Weibo — a flood of notifications from readers, most of them posting their locations and movie tickets, saying they were heading to the premiere and asking whether she would be at their screening.

She didn’t reveal anything, liked a few posts from across the country, and was just about to put her phone away when Xu Huaishi called: “Sister-in-law, you haven’t left yet, right? Zhao Yi and I already picked up the tickets — we’re driving over now.”

The tickets had been purchased by Xu Huaishi: four seats, two sets of couple seats side by side.

Xu Huaisong couldn’t drive after drinking. They had originally planned to ride shared bicycles with Ruan Yu to the nearby cinema and meet them there — they hadn’t expected the two of them to be so thoughtful.

Ruan Yu told her “great” over the phone, got herself together, and headed out with Xu Huaisong. Downstairs, they climbed into the back of Zhao Yi’s car. Xu Huaishi turned around from the front passenger seat to instruct them: “New driver on the road — buckle up, both of you.”

Zhao Yi clicked his tongue in annoyance. “I got my license almost two months ago.”

“Exactly,” Xu Huaishi said with a hum, “which means I’ve been entrusting my life to you for two months, with my head dangling by a thread every single day!”

“And it’s been hanging on just fine, hasn’t it?”

“That’s because I’m resilient — but sister-in-law is trying to conceive, she can’t have a single bump or scrape!” She glanced back at Xu Huaisong and asked carefully: “Right, gege?”

Xu Huaisong looked at her sideways. “Who gave you that assignment?”

All that banter — apparently from a prepared script, designed to probe when he and Ruan Yu were planning to have children.

Xu Huaishi caught herself, glanced at Zhao Yi: “See, I told you my brother would see right through it.”

Ruan Yu laughed. “If you have questions, just ask directly — why go around in such a big circle?”

“It was grandma who sent me to do reconnaissance. But don’t feel pressured — mom said, ‘it’s entirely up to the two of them.'”

Xu Huaisong and Ruan Yu exchanged a glance and said: “We’ll let things happen naturally.” Meaning they wouldn’t be deliberately avoiding the matter.

Xu Huaishi broke into a grin. “Then it probably won’t be long.”

Xu Huaisong and Ruan Yu: “…”

Was this girl not still a student? Where had she picked up all this knowing wisdom?

Zhao Yi gave a light cough — as though trying to dispel the cloud of suspicion drifting from the back seat. When it didn’t help, he coughed again.

This time Ruan Yu took her turn at probing: “After the film tonight, what are you two doing?”

Xu Huaishi turned around. “Hm? We’re going back to campus, obviously.”

Zhao Yi was enrolled at a third-tier college about two kilometers from her university — it was on the way.

Ruan Yu glanced at Xu Huaisong.

Xu Huaisong lifted his chin slightly, signaling her to continue.

She did: “By the time the film ends and you drive back to your campuses, the dormitory gates will be locked.”

“That’s fine — I have a great relationship with the dormitory auntie. I regularly bribe her with snacks.”

“Did you plan ahead for tonight, knowing you’d be back late?”

“Not exactly — it’s just that we’ve had to get back late a few times before.”

Xu Huaisong picked up the thread. “What were you doing out that late?”

“Nothing much — hanging out with classmates, karaoke, late-night food, that kind of thing. Zhao Yi was always there — don’t believe me, ask him.”

Xu Huaishi looked perfectly innocent — entirely unaware that, in her brother’s eyes, Zhao Yi was precisely the source of concern.

Zhao Yi had caught on, though. He let out a sigh and said, with the weary resignation of someone who had seen it all: “Xu Huaisong-ge, Ruan Yu-jie — if you have something to ask, just ask directly. Why all the roundabout questions? We haven’t checked into any hotels together. If you don’t believe me, you’re welcome to pull whatever records you need.”

Xu Huaishi choked. This back-and-forth probing between all of them — what a farce of a siblings-and-spouses relationship.

Ruan Yu laughed pleasantly and smoothed things over: “A basic level of trust between people is important.”

The words had barely left her mouth when her phone buzzed. It was a message from the film’s producer, Zheng Shan: If you get the chance, post something on Weibo — show off your wedding ring and your movie ticket. It’ll echo nicely with the post-credits scene.

She seized the opportunity to change the subject, asked Xu Huaishi to pass her the tickets, then looked at Xu Huaisong: “Can I borrow your left hand?”

Xu Huaisong extended his hand — wedding ring and all — and let her do as she pleased.

She laid the ticket on her lap, spent some time adjusting angles with her phone, positioned their interlaced fingers just right, and took the shot. She blurred out the parts of the ticket that would reveal the cinema’s identity, then posted the photo to Weibo with the caption: See you soon.

The comments section exploded in an instant — endless replies of “see you soon,” along with a wave of people asking when exactly Ruan Yu had gotten married.

Playing into the production’s wishes, she picked one comment to reply to: Watch the post-credits scene and you’ll find out.

The four of them made it inside two minutes before the film began. The moment they sat down, the lights dimmed. A few advertisements played on screen, and then the film itself began.

Xu Huaishi felt inexplicably nervous. She reached across the divider and found Ruan Yu’s hand.

Ruan Yu had been relatively calm — until they were actually inside and the atmosphere of the film surrounded her, at which point she felt a flutter of excitement rise in her chest, and couldn’t help squeezing back.

On the other side of the couple’s seats, Xu Huaisong and Zhao Yi said simultaneously, with identically helpless expressions: “Do you two want to swap seats?”

Neither girl responded. Both stared at the screen without blinking.

The opening shot was aerial footage sweeping in over the school sports field during the track meet — a seamless, unbroken take of the red-and-white rubberized running track and the green field.

A starting pistol cracked, and the male lead burst from the starting line alongside several other boys. A wave of cheers surged from the bleachers.

The male lead raced ahead of the field, drawing closer and closer to the finish line — and then the camera cut to a close-up of the bleachers, where the female lead was watching him from a corner.

She was holding a sketchpad and pencil, drawing something in simple strokes.

The roar of the crowd was softened, muted — while the scratching sound of her pencil moving across paper grew impossibly loud, amplified until it seemed to vibrate against the eardrum.

Her friend beside her called out at full volume: “What are you drawing?”

The female lead curved her lips, with just a hint of mischief: “Come closer.”

The image suddenly dropped to 0.2× speed. The background noise faded with it, growing quieter and quieter, until the whole world contained nothing but her answer: “It’s — a secret.”

And so the story began.

(— End of Extra Chapters —)

(— What follows is the post-credits scene —)

After the post-credits scene finished playing, movie theaters across the country erupted into noise. A great many people began looking around, scanning the audience to see whether the real-life couple behind the film might be in their screening.

Ruan Yu and Xu Huaisong had clearly not anticipated this outcome. As the crowd grew more animated and one young woman after another raised her phone and started searching the room — apparently determined to unearth them no matter what — the two of them went very still.

Someone near the front had even started saying: “The author posted on Weibo before the premiere — the tickets are couple’s seats!”

Xu Huaisong and Ruan Yu, already on their feet in the last row, felt their breath catch.

Nobody in the entire theater moved to leave. It was as though whoever walked out first would be proving themselves the ones.

Ruan Yu tucked her ringed hand behind her back and played along with the performance, glancing around with exaggerated curiosity as she said to Xu Huaisong: “Oh, couple’s seats — do you think they might be in our row?”

Xu Huaisong cleared his throat and tugged her sleeve, warning her not to do what amounted to leaving a note that said there’s definitely something hidden here.

Sure enough, the moment she spoke, a sharp-eyed girl in the row ahead turned to look: “Wow, could it be that couple?”

Xu Huaisong was just about to press his hand to his forehead in despair — when he noticed Zhao Yi beside them grab Xu Huaishi’s hand and bolt for the exit.

Every eye in the theater swiveled: “Ah, could it be them?!”

Ruan Yu stood rooted to the spot, watching as Zhao Yi glanced back and met Xu Huaisong’s eyes — one look that said everything:

Brother, this is as far as I can take it for you.