Chapter 9

Half an hour later, the slanting sun had completely faded from the sky.

Zhou Siyou rose from the stone bench and glanced a few times at Zhong Qing’s iPad, where a wash of shimmering golden yellow spread across the screen.

Zhong Qing said these were storyboard sketches.

Zhou Siyou only half understood the subject, so she didn’t press further.

On the way down the mountain, Zhou Siyou held her phone up behind her and snapped a shot. The paparazzi were still dutifully tailing them.

Coming toward them was a group of high schoolers in all sorts of spring and winter uniforms, girls and boys alike.

They chattered and roughhoused as they walked, their laughter lending the silent winter day a touch of brightness.

Zhong Qing suddenly stopped and turned to face Zhou Siyou. “One final test question. If you answer correctly, today is over.”

It’s over already?

Zhou Siyou thought. They had just set out from home, gone from one street to another… It felt like she hadn’t done anything at all.

Seeing that Zhou Siyou wasn’t responding, Zhong Qing asked outright: “Given that Jiang Jin’s middle school years were far from pleasant. Suppose Jiang Jin is walking down the street and runs into high schoolers like those little ‘cliques’ again, and she can’t help but think of the people from her past. Would she flinch? Would she avoid them?”

Zhou Siyou’s eyes narrowed. She treated this as a freebie question, a gift of friendship.

“Of course not.” She answered with complete ease. “She’d just walk right past them with her head held high.”

As the words fell, the two of them strolled from the mountain path back onto the streets, once more returning to the neighborhood of tangled lamplight.

Night had deepened.

“There are always those works,” Zhou Siyou said, “that portray the later lives of bullying victims. They love to say that an unfortunate past leaves scars that last a lifetime.”

“Is that how it is? Maybe. But I think, Little Director Zhong, what your Achromatous leans toward expressing is this: there’s no need to live in fear. They, too… can actually live well.”

“Like the protagonist in KillMen, who stops short of killing, the heavy rain washing over the bloodstains, yet never diluting the bewilderment in her eyes. But in your Achromatous, Jiang Jin after her revenge should go on to a better life.”

Hearing this, Zhong Qing seemed to freeze for a moment, then stopped on the steps.

Zhou Siyou halted too.

She stood half a step below Zhong Qing, tilting her face up slightly as their eyes met.

And so Zhong Qing saw, on the exquisite face before her, a smile carrying a trace of youthful triumph.

Zhong Qing suddenly reached out.

Her fingers, slightly curled and ice cold, gave Zhou Siyou’s forehead a light flick.

“There. Zhou Siyou, this role now belongs entirely to you.”

“What do you mean…?” Zhou Siyou blinked, then seemed to laugh in spite of herself. “Did I do badly today? Are you taking the role back?”

Zhong Qing narrowed one eye slightly, a look that was neither quite a smile nor quite not one, like an aristocratic ragdoll cat.

“No. What I mean is, this role used to be mine. Now it’s entirely your responsibility.”

“From this moment on, you are Jiang Jin.”

~

By the time they walked back to the neighborhood, the evening wind had happened to die down.

From a distance, Zhou Siyou spotted a patch of light spilling onto the street, where passersby gathered in small clusters beside the snack stalls.

She thought of high school, when she had dragged Zhong Qing along to roadside stalls for barbecue, crispy fried pork, chive pockets, candied hawthorn, ice cream. Street food was, for the somewhat fastidious Zhong Qing, a truly monumental challenge.

After much circling back and forth, the most Zhong Qing would condescend to was a tiny, tiny bite of fried rice cake.

Afterward, Zhou Siyou handed her an ice cream. “I only bought it because of the second-one-half-price deal. Don’t read into it.”

Her younger self beamed. “I hadn’t even said anything yet.”

“Your face already gave away what you were going to say!” Zhou Siyou shot back, stubborn as ever.

And Zhong Qing would laugh at her without a shred of restraint.

Zhou Siyou suddenly remembered: back then, the two of them had really made all sorts of promises.

To go to a Shiina Ringo tour together, to a Lindsey Stirling concert, to see Chicago the Musical; to ride a Ferris wheel or the Sunset Coaster in California, and feel the golden-yellow wind against their faces.

But now…

An invisible barrier clearly stood between them.

A lukewarm relationship, a distance neither near nor far.

Perhaps they could still be friends. When they called each other’s names, the emotion in their eyes held more familiarity than strangeness.

But Zhong Qing’s keep-her-at-arm’s-length attitude was a constant reminder to Zhou Siyou: what was gone was gone.

Now, Zhou Siyou stopped at the street corner, and Zhong Qing said her goodbyes.

“It’s late. Go get some rest,” Zhong Qing said, looking at her. “Once I’ve organized the detailed schedule for joining the production, I’ll send it to you.”

“…Okay.”

Zhong Qing gave her a simple wave. “I’m off.”

The moment Zhong Qing turned to leave, something seemed to strike Zhou Siyou. With a jolt, she chased a few steps and grabbed the other woman’s wrist. “W-wait a second! How are you getting home?”

Zhong Qing turned back. “The bus.”

“…”

Zhou Siyou let go and looked away with a laugh. “Big-time director, what a humble way to travel.”

Zhong Qing countered, “And what brilliant alternative do you have?”

Zhou Siyou gave a light cough. “The paparazzi are still following you. If your address gets exposed, they’ll be staking out your front door from now on.”

“Teacher Zhong, let me drive you home.” Rapidly organizing her words in her head, Zhou Siyou shifted her gaze away, a little guiltily. “That, uh… didn’t you ask me before whether I had any experience shaking off paparazzi?”

Zhong Qing stared at her for two seconds.

As if appraising something.

A few seconds later, she agreed. “Fine. But how exactly are you ‘driving me home’?”

Zhou Siyou smiled with unhurried ease.

“Speeding.”

Zhong Qing: “…”

~

As it happened, the paparazzi had long since memorized Zhou Siyou’s license plate number.

She hadn’t planned on driving in the first place. She’d thought about pulling out her motorcycle, so that at the very least she and Zhong Qing could catch the breeze by the river.

…But try as she might, she couldn’t find a second helmet anywhere in the house.

Seated in the car in the underground garage, Zhou Siyou checked herself in the rearview mirror, then took a turn that shook off a little minivan first.

The moment the black car rolled out of the garage, the paparazzi along the roadside caught the scent and gave chase.

Zhou Siyou had some experience with shaking off paparazzi at speed, but this was the first time she’d done it with someone sitting in the passenger seat.

In the passenger seat, Zhong Qing had the window half rolled down, gazing outside.

Night wind poured into the car.

The stereo alternated between traffic reports and old songs from the last century.

Intimate Lover

“The wind still blows tonight…”

Zhou Siyou steered into a tunnel, then opened up the throttle as they flew across the bridge spanning the river.

In moments, the traffic in the rearview mirror faded away like scattered stars.

The car drifted from the bustling city center outward. The cluttered urban wind dissolved, and the music in the stereo faded with it.

The car stopped on a quiet side road. Zhong Qing stepped out while Zhou Siyou rolled down the window.

Standing outside the car, Zhong Qing said goodbye once more. “Be careful on the way back. Don’t drive so fast.”

“Okay.”

Zhou Siyou gave her answer.

Zhong Qing kept looking at her, as if lost in thought.

Under the swaying glow of the streetlamps, the night moon dim and unclear, what little brightness there was seemed to sink into the eyes of the woman before her.

Zhou Siyou met her gaze, and for a while, neither spoke.

As if each were waiting for the other to say farewell first.

Zhong Qing, you chose me as your actress. It can’t be just because I understood your creative intent, right? The bigger reason is the relationship between us… isn’t it? That was what Zhou Siyou wanted to ask.

Zhou Siyou wanted to know the answer.

But in the end, she didn’t dare say it aloud.

Because she understood that the question could only lead to one of two answers, yes or no.

If Zhong Qing said “yes,” then they would lay everything bare, and their relationship would move a step closer. If Zhong Qing said “no,” then Zhou Siyou would have been flattering herself, and she’d force an awkward laugh and pretend nothing had happened.

But if there was even a one-in-a-hundred chance that the question would push Zhong Qing away…

Then Zhou Siyou wouldn’t ask.

Meeting again after all this time was rare. Zhou Siyou didn’t want to be the one to ruin the moment.

And so, in this parting moment, she simply tilted her face up a little and said with a smile, “Achromatous. Little Director Zhong, here’s to a great collaboration.”

“Mm,” Zhong Qing replied softly, the corners of her eyes curving gently. “To a great collaboration.”