After this incident, Chen An took Cheng Lele to Taixi Theater to watch movies every week. Back then, domestic films hadn’t risen yet—they basically relied on imported blockbusters to hold up the scene. When there were no blockbusters, the theater was deserted, with only the two of them coming unwaveringly to watch. Day by day, the points on the membership card Chen An had opened became the theater’s number one. At year’s end, to show gratitude to customers, besides giving the two of them a pile of peripheral products, the theater also specially made them a plaque inscribed with “Most Loyal Audience,” personally presented by the general manager. They took a commemorative photo together, which was hung on the “Interactive Message Wall” in the lobby. That pile of peripheral products was all claimed by Cheng Lele as her own. Chen An only took a medium-sized storage box. He had saved a thick stack of ticket stubs and was worried about having nowhere to put them. The storage box’s size was acceptable, just a bit girly—it was heart-shaped with a blank label on it. Chen An used a marker to label it “Memories of Light and Shadow.”

The fact that the two of them could go watch movies every weekend also had an objective factor. Before Wang Liting and Chen Tao were transferred to the provincial capital, they had originally planned to come back every week to see Chen An, but this rhythm didn’t last long. Chen Tao followed his original leader from the Tax Bureau to the Organization Department at the center of power. The leader still had the possibility of advancing to the central level, so in these few years his energy absolutely couldn’t be dispersed—he had to revolve around the leader’s life practically twenty-four hours a day. At the same time, Wang Liting’s mind was also very nimble. Not long after arriving in the provincial capital, she plunged into business, establishing a foreign trade company under her cousin’s name. Leveraging various personal connections, she developed smoothly but busily. One spouse wanted to develop their official career, the other wanted to develop business—they basically couldn’t squeeze out time to routinely go back and see Chen An. They could only occasionally have Chen An come to the provincial capital to eat a meal with them.

Even during these rare family meals, there were often situations where various emergencies forced cancellations or interruptions. However, even when a meal was eaten from beginning to end, it was extremely dull and dreary, with a world of difference from the Cheng family’s atmosphere of laughter and joy. Chen An sensed his parents’ feelings growing increasingly thin. He had once planned to have a heart-to-heart talk with them, but his father’s increasingly obvious worship of power alone and his mother’s profit-seeking words and behavior made him feel disgusted and involuntarily want to distance himself.

Born into adolescence, Chen An consciously and unconsciously got used to treating the Cheng family as his own home. Beyond Grandma’s care, his godfather taught him boxing techniques for self-defense, and his godmother cared about his food, clothing, shelter, and transportation, satisfying Chen An’s longing for family affection. Human instinct made Chen An choose to stay in an environment that made him comfortable. He was unwilling to seek unhappiness in the big house in the provincial capital and preferred to stay in Taixi, guarding that small patch of heaven and earth together with Cheng Lele.