novellhall Chapter 39, Thank you~
Chapter 39, Thank you~
After a long time...
Meng Ziyi sat up, straightened her skirt, stood up, walked to the stereo, and turned off the music.
The living room suddenly became quiet, so quiet that you could hear the wind outside the window.
"I'm hungry," she said. "Do you have any noodles at home?"
Gao Huan looked at her, stood up, and went into the kitchen.
Meng Ziyi followed behind him, leaning against the kitchen door frame, watching him boil water, cook noodles, and chop scallions. His movements were very skilled.
The flames on the stove licked the bottom of the pot, and steam rose up, blurring his face.
Meng Ziyi leaned against the door frame, looking at him, and suddenly remembered this time a year ago, when she had just met him. Once, she was rehearsing at the Beijing Film Academy late into the night, and he sent her a message saying, "It's too late, don't go back to the dorm, come and stay with me."
That was her first time in this apartment.
A year has passed in the blink of an eye.
She's still here.
The noodles are cooked. A bowl of clear soup noodles, topped with two poached eggs and sprinkled with chopped green onions.
Meng Ziyi sat down at the dining table, picked up his chopsticks, and took a bite.
The noodles were scalding hot. She gasped for breath, and tears welled up in her eyes from the heat.
"Those moments of love are the most beautiful colors..."
She murmured to herself, her chopsticks holding noodles suspended in mid-air, watching the steam rising from the bowl, "Like the light of the sunset waves, dazzling and unforgettable. But, they gradually fade."
She put the noodles in her mouth and chewed for a long time before swallowing. After finishing, she put down her chopsticks and looked at Gao Huan.
"I think it's the warmth you once gave me that made me stay here." She paused for a moment. "It's love that's essential to me."
Gao Huan leaned back in his chair and looked at her.
When she said "I have to love you," her tone was very soft, as if she was uncertain, yet also as if she had finally made up her mind.
"My birthday present," she said, "I want to choose it myself."
Gao Huan looked at her.
"What?"
"That demo," her voice wasn't loud, but it was firm, "I'm going to sing it."
Gao Huan leaned back in his chair and looked at her.
"it is good."
"You're smart," Meng Ziyi said. "That's the one you wrote for me. I don't want anyone else to sing it."
The living room fell silent again.
Gao Huan looked at her for a few seconds, then said something that surprised her.
"I'll do as you say, but I'll have to record it for you next year."
Meng Ziyi was taken aback.
"next year?"
"Your birthday has already passed this year," Gao Huan stood up and cleared away the dishes. "Your birthday present for next year should be ordered a year in advance."
Meng Ziyi sat in the chair, watching his back as he carried the bowl into the kitchen, and suddenly smiled.
As I laughed, my eyes welled up with tears.
She stood up, walked to the kitchen doorway, and watched his back as he washed the dishes.
The warm yellow light shone on him, casting a thin sheen on his black T-shirt.
"Gao Huan."
"Um."
Will you write songs for me again next year?
Gao Huan put the bowl on the drainer, turned off the tap, and turned to look at her.
"you guess."
Meng Ziyi couldn't help but laugh, and tears streamed down her face.
She walked over, hugged him from behind, and pressed her face against his back.
"But you left and I'm still here, but what about now?"
She closed her eyes and buried her face even deeper.
Gao Huan didn't speak, but placed his hands on her hands that were clasped around his waist.
His fingers were long and slender with distinct knuckles, and his palms were dry and warm, which often made her feel happy. Covering the back of her hand felt like adding a layer of shell for her.
Meng Ziyi's fingers curled slightly, as if she wanted to clench them tighter.
"Thank you for remembering my birthday," she said in a muffled voice.
The stereo was off, but the melody of that song was still playing in her head.
It looped over and over again, as if it was stuck and couldn't get past it.
She opened her eyes, released her grip, and took a step back.
"Goodnight," she said.
After saying "goodnight," she didn't leave.
Gao Huan stood at the kitchen doorway, watching her.
Meng Ziyi lowered her head, her fingers unconsciously twisting the tulle hem of the princess dress. The thin tulle crumpled and loosened between her fingers, crumpled and loosened again.
"I'm going to remove my makeup," she said, her voice much softer than before, as if afraid of disturbing something.
She turned and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
The sound of water arose, not loud, but faint, like the sound of snow melting under the eaves in winter.
Gao Huan stood motionless at the kitchen doorway. The light on the stove was still on, casting a long, orange shadow on the hallway floor, like a pillar nailed there.
He went over, turned off the stove light, then went into the bedroom, took a clean black T-shirt from the closet, folded it, and placed it at the foot of the bed.
He changed into his pajamas, leaned against the headboard, picked up his phone and glanced at it—no new messages.
He placed his phone on the bedside table, screen down, as if he didn't want the light to disturb him.
The bathroom door opened.
When Meng Ziyi came out, her face was no longer made up, and she looked as clean as freshly washed white porcelain.
She let her hair down and wore one of his white T-shirts, with a neckline so low it revealed half of her collarbone and the hem hanging down to mid-thigh, just covering the parts she should be covered.
She walked over barefoot, leaving faint watermarks on the floor, one step, two steps, three steps, until she stopped by the bedside.
Gao Huan looked at her.
She stood in the circle of light from the bedside lamp, her hair shimmering like shattered starlight as it fell down.
Her eyes were still a little red, but her expression was calm, like the surface of a lake where the wind had just stopped and the ripples were still spreading, but they were almost gone.
"Do you sleep on your left or right side?" she asked.
"left."
"Then I'll sleep on the right side."
She lifted the covers and crawled inside.
The movements were very light, like a cat squeezing through a crack in the door, not wanting to disturb anyone.
The other side of the blanket bulged out, her knees were curled up, and she was curled up into a ball.
Gao Huan turned off the bedside lamp.
The bedroom darkened, the curtains weren't fully drawn, and light from outside seeped in through the gaps, drawing a thin white line on the ceiling.
The two people lay side by side, with a little distance between them.
It was quiet for a while.
The wind outside the window sometimes blew louder and sometimes softer, causing the curtains to billow and fall gently, like a person's breath, rising and falling unpredictably.
"Gao Huan." Her voice came from the darkness, not loud, but very clear.
"Um."
Are you asleep?
"no."
There was a few seconds of silence.
She turned over so that she was facing him.
In the darkness, he couldn't see her expression, but he could feel her gaze on his face, like a hand that dared not approach, hovering in mid-air, unsure whether to fall.
"Could you... hug me?" Her voice was soft, with a hint of probing, as if she were asking a question she already knew the answer to.
Gao Huan did not answer.
He turned over, reached out his arm, pulled her over the covers, and embraced her.
She was very light and had a small frame; she curled up in his arms like a cat.
Her hair clung to his arm, her face was warm, pressed against his chest, and the warmth seeped through her thin pajamas.
Meng Ziyi's fingers gripped the hem of his clothes tightly, without letting go.
"Your heartbeat is so slow," she said.
"Um."
"Mine is so fast."
Gao Huan did not respond.
His hand rested on her back, through his old T-shirt.
Meng Ziyi's breathing gradually became steady.
From rapid to gentle, from gentle to lingering. Her face was buried in his chest, the tip of her nose against his collarbone, her breath warm and moist, condensing into a thin mist on his skin.
"Gao Huan."
"Um."
"Thank you for not lying to me."
Gao Huan paused for a moment.
"What are you lying about?"
"You lied to me and said 'I love you'."
Her voice was very soft, as if she were half asleep, or as if she were wide awake.
"You know, if you say it, I'll believe you. Whether it's true or not, I'll believe it."
Gao Huan did not answer.
He lowered his head, his chin resting on the top of her head.
The aroma wafted into my nose; it smelled of coconut, sweet, but not cloying.
"So thank you," she said, her voice growing softer and softer, like a thread about to snap, "for not lying to me."
She stopped talking.
Her breathing gradually became even, and the fingers that were gripping his clothes slowly loosened—not loosened, but rather the strength that naturally disappeared after she fell asleep.
Her hand slid down from the hem of his clothes and landed on the blanket between them, her fingers slightly curled, like a half-open flower.
Gao Huan did not let go.
He remained in that position, motionless, listening to her breathing go from deep to shallow, and from shallow to deep.
The wind is still blowing outside the window.
The lights of the distant China World Trade Center shone through the gaps in the curtains, casting a thin white line on the ceiling.
He closed his eyes.
She never got to hear "I love you."
But what she got was a bowl of noodles, a song, a "next year," and a hug.
This is enough.
That's enough, at least for tonight.
……
December 17, Beijing, Communication University of China.
By six o'clock in the evening, it was completely dark.
At the entrance of Communication University of China, a cordon was set up, and a red carpet was laid all the way from the school gate into the 1500-person lecture hall. People were crowded behind the iron barricades on both sides.
A vast expanse of people stretched from the school gate along both sides of the red carpet all the way to the end of the road, like two black rivers flowing under the streetlights.
The light signs rose and fell in the crowd.
The most common word was "joy," and it was blue. The LED light was cold and white in the winter night, but the hand holding the light sign never trembled.
Next to it was a large light sign with the words "Gao Huan" on it, and next to that was an ancient-style light sign with the words "Baili Tusu" on it. Several banners with the words "Happy Star Forever" were held up by the crowd and fluttered in the wind.
"Happy Star".
This is the official name given to Gao Huan's fans.
In less than three months since the premiere of "Swords of Legends", this group has swelled to over a million, becoming the largest fan group in the current fandom.
Only when Reed and Megni are combined can they barely outperform Joyful Star in terms of statistics.
Happy Star's fighting power is even stronger. Many times, it's not that they can't fight, but that they don't want to.
In Huanlexing's own words, "We're busy boosting Huan Ge's stats, we don't have time to argue with you guys."
Gao Huan sat in the back seat of the van and glanced at the sea of lights outside through the window.
Yangyang Jin, sitting in the passenger seat, turned around and said, "Sister Shi just sent me a message. Her car is behind us, and she's asking where you are."
"Let her come over."
Yangyang Jin lowered her head to type, then looked up a few seconds later: "She said it."
The car behind honked its horn briefly, as if to say hello.
Today is the recording of Anhui TV's 2014 National Drama Awards, held at the Communication University of China. There are many celebrities present, but only a handful can command the stage.
When Liu Shishi got out of the car behind her, she was wearing a smoky gray long dress with a matching belt around her waist. Her hair was up, revealing her slender neck and delicate collarbone.
She walks with a graceful posture, neither hurried nor slow, as if each step is at its own rhythm.
Yangyang Jin opened the car door, and Gao Huan got out of the car from the other side.
A cold wind blew into his collar, so he pulled up his suit collar and walked towards Liu Shishi.
She stood between two cars, the streetlights shining down from above, bathing her in a warm yellow glow.
"You were looking for me?" Gao Huan asked.
Liu Shishi looked at him, her gaze carrying something more than usual.
She's not the type to wear her emotions on her sleeve, but her eyes were different today. It wasn't ambiguous or probing; it was a kind of hesitation that said, "I want to do something, but I'm not sure if you'll agree."
"The red carpet," she said, "are you walking alone?"
"Um."
"Me too." She paused for a moment. "Want to come together?"
Gao Huan glanced at her.
At the National Drama Awards red carpet, it's common for female stars to walk alone, and it's also common for male stars to walk alone. But when a man and a woman walk together, it sends a different signal.
They're either lovers, partners, or friends.
Having been in the entertainment industry for so many years, Liu Shishi must know what this signal means.
But she asked anyway.
"Okay," Gao Huan said.
Liu Shishi's lips curved slightly, but she didn't say anything more and turned to walk back to her car.
Gao Huan got into the car as well. Yangyang Jin turned around from the passenger seat, her expression subtle: "Sister Shi Shi took the initiative to invite you to walk the red carpet?"
"Um."
Yangyang Jin opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but swallowed it back when she saw Gao Huan's expression.
Having been with him for so long, she knew there were some things she shouldn't ask.
The car moved forward less than a hundred meters and then stopped.
We've arrived at the red carpet entrance.
The staff opened the car door, and a blast of cold air rushed in.
Gao Huan got out of the car and straightened his suit.
Dark blue, double-breasted, white shirt, no tie, one button undone at the collar.
Her hair was combed back, revealing her entire face.
The beauty mark at the corner of her eye was faintly visible under the streetlight.
Liu Shishi also got out of the car and stood next to him.
She was a little taller than usual because she was wearing high heels.
A person who is 1.65 meters tall standing next to someone who is 1.85 meters tall will only reach their shoulder.
She glanced at him slightly, said nothing, but adjusted her position.
I moved closer to him, at a standard distance that was neither too close nor too far.
The fans on both sides of the red carpet seemed to be set ablaze the moment they saw Gao Huan get out of the car.
"Gao Huan—!"
The sound was from hundreds of people shouting at the same time; the combined sound waves pushed over like a wall.
The light sign was held high above their heads, and the character "欢" (joy) rose and fell in the crowd like a blue sea.
"Huan-ge—! Look this way!"
"Baili Tusu—!"
"Gao Huanhuanhuanhuanhuan—!"
One girl had an exceptionally high-pitched voice, so high that it cracked, but she didn't care and kept shouting until her throat was hoarse.
Her boyfriend handed her a bottle of water, but she wouldn't drink a drop. She pushed his hand away and continued shouting, her voice hoarse and desperate!
Gao Huan glanced in that direction and nodded.
The girl immediately squatted down, and her friend next to her helped her up. The two hugged each other, and it was hard to tell whether they were crying or laughing.