Red Line

Sitting on a second-floor balcony in Taipei's Xinyi District, the afternoon breeze was gentle and languid, bringing a sense of laziness. Despite being in the heart of a city teeming with skyscrapers, birdsong echoed, chirping and singing incessantly, as if echoing someone's mood.

Xia Xiaochan typed the last word on her laptop. On the screen, the final paragraph of the novel lay quietly:

Taipei is 1,696 kilometers from Beijing. He never imagined that a chance encounter while lost in Beijing would lead him to find his final spiritual home in the Taipei sky. Ah Cang, a strange boy named after the sky, was destined to be reborn like Nezha.

She solemnly wrote the title of the book on the first page of the manuscript: "A Cang".

"Done!" Xia Xiaochan let out a long sigh, her fingertips gently closing the laptop, a satisfied smile on her lips. She stretched out, her bones making a subtle crackling sound.

This newly rising online writer with the pen name "Liu Guang", who has been dubbed the "new goddess of urban romance" by readers, now looks romantic and has nothing in common with the tomboy Xia Xiaochan, who usually looks carefree and is identified as a "big-tailed wolf" by Xiangyang.

"I'm done, but I'm actually a little reluctant to let it go." She rubbed her eyes, pretending to wipe away tears, and muttered to the air, or perhaps to the characters in the book, "You two, you must be incredibly happy for me! But then again, when this novel is published, Xiang Xiaoyang, Xiang Xiaoyang, you'll be so mad you'll want to pull all my hair out, right? Hehe."

She was talking to herself happily when suddenly a paper airplane flew up from downstairs and landed right on the table in front of her.

Xia Xiaochan picked it up curiously and spread it out.

On the inside of the paper airplane, there were some large, flamboyant characters written in bold strokes: "Light bulb, come down and play!" The handwriting was bold and bold, with the unruly nature unique to young people.

She chuckled, stood up, walked quickly to the edge of the balcony, and looked down.

Downstairs, the almost criminally handsome Xiang Yang was hugging the equally dazzling Jin Cang. They both looked up, beaming and waving at her vigorously. The scene was dazzling and outrageous.

Xia Xiaochan's mood was immediately infected, and she turned around and ran downstairs at lightning speed.

The ending of the British film "Morris" suddenly appeared in her mind.

In that classic shot, the young Hugh Grant, with a childish face, stood downstairs, waving at the weathered James Webby in the window, shouting, "Come on! Come down and play..."

That scene from 1987 has left fans with a sense of melancholy and regret for nearly forty years. But Xia Xiaochan is certain that, now, this "Lan Yu" that belongs to Xiang Yang and A Cang will absolutely, absolutely not end in a heartbreaking tragedy. They will be happy, they will definitely be.

Late that night, in Jin Changan's hospital room, only a single bedside lamp remained, casting a soft orange glow. Outside the window, the night sky was boundless, the moon bright and the stars sparse.

Jin Changan fell asleep, his breathing steady. Jin Cang was lying on the edge of his father's bed, also fast asleep.

Xiangyang leaned over and gently covered Jin Cang with a thin blanket.

The boy seemed to feel something in his dream, and the corners of his mouth rose slightly, like a satisfied child.

Xiangyang gazed at his sleeping face with a gentle look. He turned down the air conditioning, then walked to the other end of the ward and took out his cell phone.

His fingertips hovered over his father Xiang Yaozu's number for a moment, but he finally pressed it.

The call was connected quickly.

"You..." Xiangyang lowered his voice, with a caution that he himself was not aware of, "You...are you recovering well?"

On the other end of the line, Xiang Yaozu's voice was surprised, yet he sounded relatively calm. "It's...it's okay. The hospital is taking good care of it. It's nothing serious. Compared to the last surgery, I'm a little weaker and have aged two years. It's normal."

"Please cooperate with the doctor," Xiang Yang whispered. "I have some things to do in the next few days. I will come to see you when I return to Beijing."

"Okay," Xiang Yaozu said with a smile in his tone, "Just focus on your business. I'm familiar with the place, don't worry."

Xiangyang couldn't help but sigh: "Oh, how can you say you're familiar with going to the hospital?" There was a hint of childish complaint in his tone.

"That's enough," Xiang Yaozu said, seemingly in a good mood. "You just happened to call. I was actually planning to talk to you about something."

"You say."

"Regarding the project you're planning," Xiang Yaozu pondered for a moment, "I'm going to shamelessly ask you for a job. How about I be your producer?"

Xiangyang's head buzzed, and he almost thought he had heard it wrong: "Dad, you...this...this is international level, my heart is pounding so hard." He subconsciously covered his chest, which was indeed beating very fast, hitting his palm again and again.

Xiang Yaozu chuckled on the other end of the phone: "Is this all my son, Xiang Yaozu, has achieved?"

"But your health..." Xiangyang was still worried.

"I'm fine. I'm only asking this because I'm sure," Xiang Yaozu's voice regained its usual commanding authority on the set, and he said seriously, "But there's only one condition for the exchange."

"What conditions?"

"You have to be the director yourself," Xiang Yaozu said word by word. "No one knows the message of this film better than you."

"But I..." Xiangyang felt inexplicably nervous, and his palms were sweating.

"Are you scared?" Xiang Yaozu's tone was somewhat provocative.

Xiangyang took a deep breath, his gaze drifting involuntarily to the bright moon outside the window. Then he looked at Jin Changan, sleeping peacefully on the hospital bed not far away, and Jin Cang, sleeping innocently beside him. A warm current slowly flowed through his body, dispelling his previous nervousness and anxiety. He said firmly, "Don't be afraid. You're here."

"Oh, there's one more thing," Xiang Yaozu's voice lightened up again. "A young movie star from Taipei called me yesterday to express his concern about my surgery. I mentioned your movie to him, and he recommended a newcomer to me."

Xiangyang was a little puzzled: "Which young movie star?" He had the impression that his father didn't have many friends in the Taipei film industry.

"He's very young. He starred in a Malaysian movie and won the Golden Horse Award for Best Actor. His name is Wu Kanglun."

Xiang Yang couldn't help but laugh when he heard that: "Ha, I know who it is." That movie star was the idol that Ah Cang always talked about.

"He sent me a photo. His temperament seems to match your leading man. Take a look..."

Just as he finished speaking, Xiangyang's phone dinged with a new message. He clicked it, looked down, and instantly, his eyebrows curved in laughter.

The photo Xiang Yaozu sent was the one that Ni Chaofan posted in the group that day. A Cang's face was covered in blood and dust, but his eyes were bright and lively, like a stubborn little leopard, exuding a spirit of not admitting defeat.

Xiangyang raised his head and his gaze fell gently on Jin Cang's sleeping face. The boy's thick eyebrows were slightly frowned, as if he had dreamed of some challenge, but his lips were relaxed, with the fearlessness to face everything.

He whispered in his heart: Look, it's right next to me.

Xiangyang raised his head, his gaze gently resting on Jin Cang's sleeping face. The young man's bushy brows were slightly furrowed, but his lips were relaxed, revealing a fearlessness capable of facing anything head-on. He whispered happily in his heart: Look, he's right beside me.

An indescribable wonderful feeling enveloped Xiangyang. Yes, Jin Yu would always occupy an irreplaceable position between them.

He was like the red thread sent by God, crossing all the tangible impossibilities in the reality, and irresistibly drawing him and A Cang to each other. From then on, they were tightly entangled and snuggled together, unable to separate anymore.