Cheng Liao pouted as the wind lifted her bangs. "That joke isn’t funny at all."
Despite claiming it wasn’t funny, she still laughed, and then felt a bit embarrassed. "Do I laugh too much?"
They continued walking along the path until they finally reached the entrance to Sweetwater Alley.
"Cheng Liao," he suddenly asked, "do you have a nickname at home?"
"Why do you ask?" Cheng Liao then answered, "My family usually just calls me by my full name. My dad will call me whatever comes to mind, but since it’s just the two of us, I know he’s talking to me. But my grandma used to call me ‘Liao Liao.’"
He repeated the nickname, emphasizing the pronunciation.
"It’s ‘Liao Liao,’" she corrected him, "When two third-tone syllables are together, the second one changes to a lighter, shorter tone."
She was from the North, where the local dialect is close to standard Mandarin. Later, she studied journalism and, determined to pursue that path, even took the Mandarin proficiency test.
He repeated it after her, then looked at her and asked, "Is that right?"
In the moonlight, she couldn’t quite make out his expression, but she could see his eyes.
Those eyes had fascinated her from the moment they met. Every time she looked into them, her heart would race.
Even though his gaze was always calm and restrained, sometimes even giving her a sense of severity.
When he said "Liao Liao," it sounded so sweet, like it was wrapped in sugar.
For the first time, she thought her nickname wasn’t so bad—hearing it from him felt almost like being pampered.
He said, "There’s a new movie out that’s pretty good. Do you want to go see it?"
Was he inviting her to a movie?
Cheng Liao was startled, her eyes widening, round like two glass marbles.
Sheng Jingchu was reminded of the yellow cat his teacher had—its eyes were just as round. Whenever Cao Xihe tugged its tail, it would meow and swat at him with its paw.
Once, when he and Cao Xihe were sitting together, he unexpectedly decided to tease the cat. He quietly tugged its tail, and it spun around, scratching a bloody mark on Cao Xihe’s leg.
He carefully chose his words, "Actually, it’s Xiao Cao…"
Before he could finish, Cheng Liao’s face lit up with a look of understanding. "Ding Lan is going too, right? Don’t worry, I’ll stick by your side and make sure Ding Lan doesn’t get any chances."
Xiao Qi was right—she really did have a vivid imagination. He had barely mentioned Xiao Cao, and she had already conjured up a whole drama in her mind.
At least the outcome was what he wanted.
He watched her as she reached her front door. Just as she was about to go in, she stepped back.
Still smiling, she waved, "Goodbye." She ducked her head inside, then popped it out again. "Oh, and… thank you for today."
The iron gate was rusted, and it made a sharp creaking sound as it closed.
Sheng Jingchu stood at the alley entrance for a while, making sure she wouldn’t come out again before he turned and left.
Cheng Yi had already returned home. When she saw Cheng Liao walk in, she finally breathed a sigh of relief and made a gesture of zipping her lips, indicating that she hadn’t said anything to the family.
Cheng Yi had been raised by their grandmother and had always been the apple of her eye. But after Cheng Liao came along, a large portion of that affection was redirected, leaving Cheng Yi feeling quite dejected. As a child, that imbalance often led to some mischief, and Cheng Liao had suffered her share of bullying. Fortunately, when Cheng Nuo was born, both girls lost their favored status, which gave them a sense of camaraderie.
Cheng Liao thanked Cheng Yi profusely, expressing her firm loyalty to Cheng Yi’s leadership within the family and vowing to support any decisions she made. She also promised to treat her to Japanese cuisine as a bribe for her silence, which finally convinced Cheng Yi to leave her alone.
After closing the door, Cheng Liao retrieved her mother’s photo from under her pillow.
The woman in the photo was captured in her prime, with long hair tied up and wearing a bell-sleeved knit top, holding a young Cheng Liao in her arms, her waist slender and delicate.
On the back of the photo, a young Cheng Liao had scrawled a line of text: "Mom, I miss you." The handwriting was crooked, and the character for "miss" had an extra stroke.
She put down the photo and covered her eyes.
Just then, Xu Chi called. She hesitated but decided to answer.
"Hello."
There was a brief pause on the other end. "Have you been crying?"
She blinked rapidly, adopting a lighter tone. "Of course not."
She continued speaking quickly, not giving Xu Chi a chance to interrupt, her words spilling out in a rush.
"I met your fiancée today. She’s really beautiful. Why didn’t you introduce her to me before? Make sure you invite me to the wedding, and even if I can’t afford a big red envelope, I’ll write you an IOU."
There was a long silence on the other end before Xu Chi finally spoke again. "There’s a new Indian restaurant that just opened on the west side of the city. The flavors are quite unique. Want to check it out this Saturday?"
"I don’t want to go." After a pause, she added, "If I said right now that I never want to see you again, that would just be me talking out of anger, so don’t take it seriously."
She rarely spoke in a serious tone, even when others were serious with her—she always found a way to joke or deflect.
"Xu Chi," she said, holding back a sob, "Goodbye."
Goodbye.
She thought, this really is goodbye. From the age of thirteen to twenty-three, she had built a dream for herself, holding onto a small amount of affection as her only belief in life during those rebellious teenage years when she had lost her mother.
Now that belief had crumbled, and she could only quietly say farewell to the past, in a simple and bittersweet way.
Her phone lit up again. She thought it was Xu Chi and was about to ignore it, but then she saw it was Sheng Jingchu calling.
She answered and asked, "Are you home?"
"Yes," came his usual brief response.
Cheng Liao typically led their conversations, but she was tired and couldn’t think of anything to say. The silence between them grew, broken only by the sound of their breathing.
Finally, Sheng Jingchu spoke first, "Let me tell you a joke."
She heard the sound of pages flipping on the other end.
"Once there was a very stingy landlord who drew a piece of pork on the wall. At mealtimes, he would have his son look at the pork and take a bite of rice. One day, the second son told his father that the eldest son had looked at the pork twice before taking a bite of rice. The landlord angrily knocked his eldest son on the head with his chopsticks and scolded him, 'It’s because of wasteful people like you that our family isn’t rich!'"
He recited the joke word for word, and then there was silence again.
Cheng Liao asked, "And then?"
He sounded a bit embarrassed. "That’s it."
Cheng Liao chuckled, "You know, asking 'Why?' and 'And then?' are sure ways to ruin a joke."
She realized he wasn’t very good at telling jokes, so she decided to give him a demonstration.
"Once, there was a rabbit who went to a candy store and asked the owner, ‘Hey, do you have any carrots?’ The owner, in a good mood, replied, ‘No, we’re a candy store.’ The rabbit left. The next day, it came back and asked again, ‘Hey, do you have any carrots?’ The owner was getting a bit annoyed but still answered, ‘No, we’re a candy store.’ On the third day, the pesky rabbit returned and asked, ‘Hey, do you have any carrots?’ The owner couldn’t take it anymore, grabbed the rabbit, and pulled out its front teeth. Afterward, the owner thought, 'Well, that should take care of it.' But on the fourth day, the rabbit came back, with its mouth leaking air, and asked, ‘Hey, do you have any carrot juice?’"
After finishing, Cheng Liao burst into laughter. "Funny, right?"
Sheng Jingchu asked, "Why?"
She opened her mouth to reply but suddenly realized he was getting back at her for the "and then" comment.
"The rabbit with the missing front teeth should say it like this," he mimicked in a serious tone, "Hey, do you have any ca-rrot juice?"
Cheng Liao laughed so hard she collapsed onto her bed.
On Saturday, Sheng Jingchu invited Cheng Liao to a movie.
Since she was supposed to help Sheng Jingchu fend off any potential romantic rivals, Cheng Liao carefully dressed up. Normally, she kept her hair tied in a neat ponytail for convenience at work, but today she let it down. The strands in front were a bit too long and got in her eyes, so she pushed them back and styled them into a small twist.
When Cheng Liao’s dad saw her, he complimented her, "Your hair looks nice like that."
Just as she was starting to feel proud, her dad added, "You look just like Beibei."
Beibei was her grandmother’s Pekingese.
Hearing its name, Beibei immediately popped out of its bed, its topknot tied back by Cheng Liao’s grandmother with a small bow.
All of Cheng Liao’s excitement instantly deflated, and she left the house, feeling downcast with her "Beibei hairstyle."
To avoid any misunderstandings from her dad, Cheng Liao declined Sheng Jingchu’s offer to pick her up and went to the cinema by herself.
Even from a distance, she could see Sheng Jingchu already waiting at the entrance, wearing a black shirt with silver embroidery.
He was naturally the kind of person who stood out in a crowd, and standing in such a visible spot, he drew the attention of passersby. Some even had the courage to approach him for an autograph.
When he saw Cheng Liao approaching, he politely excused himself from the crowd and walked over to meet her.
Cheng Liao glanced behind him, "Where’s Cao Xihe?"
Sheng Jingchu remained calm, "He said something came up at the last minute and couldn’t make it."
"You really should teach him a lesson," Cheng Liao said, recalling the incident at West Lake, her anger flaring up again. "He’s so unreliable. And what about Ding Lan?"
Sheng Jingchu nodded, "She went with Xiao Cao."
"So, are we still watching the movie?"
The enemy's main forces hadn’t shown up, so it should be safe to retreat now.
"Why not watch it? I've already bought the tickets."
Cheng Liao let out an "Oh" and, realizing that once you choose your seats, you can’t get a refund, she figured it would be a shame to waste them. She obediently followed Sheng Jingchu into the cinema.
The 3D MAX screening was on the fourth floor, and the escalator led straight up. Sheng Jingchu glanced at a girl on the down escalator, holding a bucket of popcorn.
He pointed to her popcorn and asked Cheng Liao, "Do you want some?"
Going to the movies with a guy friend was already unusual enough; buying a big bucket of popcorn on top of that would just be overkill.
Cheng Liao shook her head vigorously, like a rattle drum, "No, I don’t."
Since they had time before the movie started, Cheng Liao stood in front of a poster for a while. The movie was called Kill Zone, directed by Ding Che, a leading figure of the sixth-generation directors. It was about a major case solved by the Jinyiwei during the Ming Dynasty under Emperor Jiajing. To achieve the best visual and auditory effects, the movie was shot in 3D.
The poster was striking: the protagonist, dressed in a Feiyu robe, was wielding a Xiu Chun Dao sword, slicing through a mist of blood. The title "Kill Zone" was inscribed at the tip of the blade, with the "Kill" character dripping down like fresh blood. The supporting characters stood behind the lead, their faces obscured by fog, identifiable only by the colors of their clothes.
The movie had received high praise online, with viewers being kind enough not to spoil the plot.
Cheng Yi could learn a thing or two from this, Cheng Liao thought. The last time she went to see a movie, Cheng Yi had sent her a text:
"The guy in black in the elevator is the main villain!"
As a result, Cheng Liao couldn’t enjoy the movie at all.
The previous screening had just ended, and as Cheng Liao and Sheng Jingchu were about to hand in their tickets, they ran into Xu Chi and Qiao Fei.
Qiao Fei was half a step behind Xu Chi. She noticed Sheng Jingchu first, then looked at Cheng Liao.
Qiao Fei gave a cold, haughty smile and said, "What a coincidence."
Xu Chi frowned slightly, his tone tinged with dissatisfaction, "Did you cancel our lunch just to come watch a movie?"
With the conversation now focused on her, Cheng Liao quickly responded. First, she answered Qiao Fei, "Yes." Then she turned to Xu Chi, "No."
Qiao Fei moved a step closer and took Xu Chi’s arm, her voice soft and a bit coquettish, "I’m starving. Let’s go have some afternoon tea, okay?"
Xu Chi hesitated, clearly wanting to say something more to Cheng Liao, but eventually let Qiao Fei pull him away.
Sheng Jingchu glanced at Cheng Liao.
Cheng Liao smiled, "Don’t look at me like I just got dumped. Besides, you have to date someone before you can get dumped."
Sheng Jingchu had chosen seats in the middle of the fifth row. As they settled in, a few other moviegoers trickled in. It wasn’t a peak time, so the theater wasn’t very full.
The lights dimmed, and the screen went dark before a single candle slowly flickered to life, its flame wavering as if it might go out at any moment.
On the screen, only voices could be heard.
"Is everything hidden?" a sharp male voice asked.
"All hidden," came a rough reply.
"Good," the sharp voice sighed.
Then there was a sudden "pfft" sound, and a spurt of blood burst forth. With the 3D glasses on, Cheng Liao felt as though the blood had splattered right onto her forehead. The blood twisted and morphed, forming the movie’s title: Kill Zone.
The plot began simply enough: Zuo Zhen, a former deputy commander of the Jinyiwei, receives a letter from an old friend asking to meet at Juyi Tower in Jiaxing. When Zuo Zhen arrives, he finds the once-thriving inn now in ruins, with his old friend’s corpse hanging from the second-floor window.
The old friend had scrawled a "井" character in blood on his clothing.
Following this sole clue, Zuo Zhen’s investigation leads him to an abandoned gold mine, where he encounters five others, all of whom have been drawn there while searching for missing loved ones.
As Zuo Zhen descends into the mine, the torchlight reveals a long, hairy leg.
For a moment, Cheng Liao didn’t realize what it was. Suddenly, the screen went black.
Confused, she asked, "What happened?"
The screen lit up again as Sheng Jingchu lowered his hand and whispered in her ear, "There was a spider in that scene."
Cheng Liao felt a surge of gratitude—he remembered her fear of spiders.
When she looked back at the screen, the scene had shifted to a jumble of corpses, some gnawed down to just skulls, with maggots squirming across them.
The theater was filled with the sound of girls screaming, but Cheng Liao didn’t scream; instead, her stomach churned.
Sheng Jingchu took off his 3D glasses, and in the dim light of the movie, he noticed that Cheng Liao’s face was scrunched up. She was tightly clenching her hands and gagged slightly, "This is so gross."
He hesitated for a moment before lifting his hand and gently patting her back.
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