I miss you
The Shanghai roadshow was bustling with excitement, the atmosphere as lively as boiling water. Meanwhile, in a quiet private room of a traditional teahouse in Beijing, the only sounds were soft breathing and the occasional rustling of turning pages.
Three hours passed quietly. The clear tea beside Yu Sheng had long since gone cold. He silently turned the pages of the script in his hands, his gaze focused.
"How are you feeling?" Yan Jianghe, sitting opposite, took a sip of the warm tea and habitually stroked the signature little goatee on his chin.
Yu Sheng finally closed the script, letting out a long sigh. He picked up the now-cold tea and drank it all in one gulp. "Excellent!"
The core of the story is a male-centric anti-drug film. It has a semi-artistic, semi-commercial tone, but its structure is not complicated.
The male protagonist, Sui Qing, is a narcotics police officer. At the age of twenty, while still in police academy, he was selected to infiltrate the inner circle of a drug lord nicknamed "Ninth Master." The story begins five years into his tenure with Ninth Master. Nearly two thousand days and nights of extreme tension have left him frequently in a daze. It is during this time that he meets the second male lead: Wu Cao.
The character introduction for Wu Cao filled three full pages. He was a mild case of Werner syndrome, fatherless, and his mother, who suffered from the same disease, died young. He inherited his mother's flower shop, and with it, this chronic illness. At eighteen, he looked like he was in his mid-twenties due to premature aging. The disease ravaged his body, turning his hair white, making him emaciated, his joints stiff, and shrouding him in an inescapable aura of sickliness…
Sui Qing and Wu Cao's first encounter was in that small flower shop. Every week, Sui Qing would deliver flowers to Ninth Master's mistress, and the flowers also served as a secret code for him to communicate with his superiors. Over time, the two became acquainted, and the flower shop became the only place where Sui Qing could breathe amidst his tense nerves. And Wu Cao, this sickly girl, unexpectedly found her life becoming more stable thanks to the protection and financial assistance of Sui Qing, this "drug dealer."
Unlike previous anti-drug films, which are often made into fast-paced, suspenseful, and special-effects blockbusters, Yan Jianghe's script takes a different approach. The film unfolds from the perspective of Wu Cao, offering an outsider's viewpoint to understand the daily life of an undercover agent.
The film downplays the thrills and excitement of the undercover work, instead using an art-house film approach to subtly portray the undercover police officer's cautious facade in public and his struggles and confusion behind the scenes. This is very much in line with Yan Jianghe's consistent style.
Yu Sheng couldn't help but flip the script back to the character introduction page, her fingertip pointing to Wu Cao's name. "Uncle Yan, why is the introduction of the male lead, Sui Qing, so much less detailed than that of the second male lead, Wu Cao? At first glance, I thought Wu Cao was the main character."
Yan Jianghe sighed softly, a complex mix of emotions flashing across his eyes that Yu Sheng couldn't quite decipher—a mixture of regret that had settled over many years and a deep-seated expectation. After a long pause, he slowly spoke: "I started writing this script thirty years ago, and it took four years to polish it. Its original name was 'Dancing Grass'."
He paused, his gaze falling on Yu Sheng's face. "This is the script I prepared for your mother, Qi Hanxing, to return to the stage after her retirement from acting. I planned to have Lao Lan direct it." He took another sip of tea, his fingertips habitually stroking his beard. "What you see now is an adaptation of 'Dancing Grass,' with the romantic subplot removed. So, Dancing Grass is the main character. But now the male lead has been changed to Sui Qing, so I have to put in more effort to make Sui Qing's character more well-rounded and three-dimensional, so that he isn't overshadowed by the aura of Dancing Grass."
No wonder. An indescribable bitterness suddenly welled up in Yu Sheng's heart, along with a belated dull pain.
Qi Hanxing passed away the year the script was completed. Yan Jianghe's script, which he had spent four years polishing, was thus shelved, and no one else was cast in it.
He knew all too well how profound the regret and sorrow must be for an artist like Yan Jianghe, who regarded his work as his very flesh and blood, when his work was shelved and buried. Yet, Yan Jianghe never revealed a single trace of this to him.
“…Uncle Yan.” Yu Sheng’s voice choked with emotion. He looked up from the script, his eyes slightly red, reflecting a thin layer of tears under the light.
"Tsk." Yan Jianghe clicked his tongue in disdain, his tone half lecturing and half comforting, "Stop being so dramatic. If your mother can't act in a script, she'll be happy to see it if she gives it to her son."
Back then, Yan Jianghe wrote the script and Lan Dajing directed it. The two worked together perfectly and made Yu Sheng's mother, Qi Hanxing, and Lan Zhong's mother, Cen Hua, both three-time Golden Horse Award winners.
Qi Hanxing possessed a captivating, unforgettable sex appeal, with fiery red lips and a mesmerizing gaze. Cen Hua, on the other hand, was the complete opposite, cold as ice and haughty. They were Yan Jianghe and Lan Dajing's personal muses. Later, Cen Hua married Lan Dajing, a union that became a celebrated story within their circle.
Unfortunately, Qi Hanxing, who was once extremely popular, withdrew from the limelight at the peak of her career to get married and have children. After that, apart from news of her co-founding Xinghua Media with Cen Hua, she seemed to have vanished from the face of the earth. Even at Xinghua's important press conferences, only Cen Hua ever appeared. Qi Hanxing seemed to have completely disappeared from the public eye.
Everyone had seen Qi Hanxing's radiant and spirited appearance, but he, as her son, could only glimpse his mother's former glory through movies and other people's accounts.
Looking at Yan Jianghe's calm face, Yu Sheng almost blurted out a question that had been lingering in his heart for many years. Back then, it wasn't just Cen Hua and Lan Dajing who were in love; Yan Jianghe and Qi Hanxing had also been together. He wanted to ask, he had always wanted to ask, "Why didn't you marry my mother? Why did you break up with her? Why did you let Yu Zhengcheng steal your lover?" But he dared not ask, and could not ask.
The night was as dark as ink. Old Hao carefully helped the limping Yu Sheng back to his and Lu Chenyang's home.
Ice packs, massages, unwrapping bandages… These days, Young Master Yu had long since become accustomed to being served by Lu Chenyang. Now, trying to do it himself, he felt something was off; he was clumsy and couldn't get it right. After struggling for a long time, he finally managed to tuck himself into the cold bed.
It was cold. The room was empty.
Yu Sheng subconsciously reached out to Lu Chenyang's pillow, her fingertips groping on the cool surface, searching for any lingering warmth.
Then, he turned over and buried his face deep in the pillow, greedily inhaling Lu Chenyang's familiar and comforting scent. The gloom that had been weighing on his heart all night seemed to be slightly dispelled by this familiar smell.
He fumbled for his phone in the dark and tapped rapidly on the screen with his fingertips.
—Libertas: I miss you.
The reply came quickly, but it wasn't a text message; it was a video invitation.
Yu Sheng answered the call immediately. On the other end of the screen, Lu Chenyang's background was clearly in a hotel room, with soft lighting.
"Are you resting?" Yu Sheng's voice was full of dependence.
"I just got to the hotel and was about to tell you when your message popped up." Lu Chenyang leaned his phone against the bathroom counter, removing his makeup in front of the mirror while habitually starting his routine "interrogation": Did you apply ice? Did you massage it? Did you take your medicine? Does your leg hurt? What did you do today?
After removing his makeup, Lu Chenyang sat down on the edge of the bed. He zoomed in on the screen and noticed the weariness between Yu Sheng's brows. "What's wrong? You look very tired."
Yu Sheng propped herself up and turned on the dim yellow lamp by the bedside. "I want to sleep, but you're not here, so I can't sleep." Her voice was muffled, with a hint of childish grievance.
"Then shall I talk to you?" Lu Chenyang's voice softened even more.
“Officer Lu,” Yu Sheng blinked, revealing her usual sly expression where Lu Chenyang couldn’t see, “I want to hear you sing.”
Lu Chenyang was visibly taken aback for a moment, then smiled, his eyebrows curving into a gentle arc: "How old are you? Still need someone to coax you to sleep?" Though it was teasing, there was no hint of refusal in his tone. He adjusted his posture and cleared his throat.
As Yu Sheng obediently closed her eyes, a deep, soothing, and uniquely magnetic a cappella singing began to flow from the phone. It was Lu Chenyang's voice, like a warm stream in the night: "The dark sky hangs low, bright stars follow, insects fly, insects fly, who are you thinking of..."
*
The roadshow was halfway through in mid-October. When Lu Chenyang and his team arrived in Chengdu, it was already past 10 p.m. when they finished the day's activities.
Their roadshows were all in first- and second-tier cities, which conveniently covered the area offered by Shuye's chain hotels. Young Master Yu generously booked all the accommodations for the entire roadshow team.
Lu Chenyang felt like he was falling apart. After a long day of running around, only one thought remained in his mind: rush back to his room and take a hot shower.
He swiped his card to enter the room, but before he could turn on the light, he suddenly felt a faint presence behind him.
Crisis training at the police academy is ingrained in his bones. In the darkness, a hand reached for his side. His body reacted before his brain, and Lu Chenyang swiftly grabbed the wrist. He twisted his body and shifted his stance, while his other hand gripped the other's shoulder and neck. With a clean and decisive twist, he slammed the intruder against the wall.
A muffled thud was particularly clear in the darkness.
"Damn it—! It hurts, it hurts, it hurts! Lu Chenyang, you idiot! Let go of me right now!!" The person being pressed against the wall was in so much pain that his voice changed, and he cursed loudly with a sob in his voice.
"Yu Sheng?!"
Lu Chenyang thought to himself: It's over!
He immediately released his grip, took a step back, and slammed the overhead light switch on with a loud "snap"!
White light poured down, revealing Yu Sheng sprawled awkwardly against the wall, painfully rubbing his wrist, which had been pinched until it was red, clutching his lower back, wincing in pain, his handsome face contorted in agony.
Her eyes were flushed with a pitiful red from the pain of the impact, and her lips were pressed tightly into a straight line.
That look in its eyes was exactly like that of a beautiful big cat that had come over to act cute but was kicked hard, its fur standing on end in shock, anger, and grievance.
Feeling both distressed and guilty, Lu Chenyang reached out and tentatively touched Yu Sheng's reddened wrist. But Yu Sheng glared at him and drove him away.
"Get out of here!!"
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