See a movie
The June breeze, carrying the delicate fragrance of zongzi leaves, swept across Yuncheng High School's Wutong Avenue. Weeping willows brushed against the rusted iron fences, casting tiny shadows on the folds of Shen Zhihe's white school uniform. As Gu Hanzhi walked out of the school gate, clutching a copy of "History of Parisian Architecture" she had just borrowed from the library, she happened to stumble upon a young man leaning against a willow tree. The silver bell on his wrist tinkled softly with his movements. It was a prayer gift Gu Hanzhi had casually given him at the temple fair the previous month, and he had unexpectedly been wearing it with such solemnity.
"Hanzhi!" Shen Zhihe straightened up, his sneakers crushing the mottled light and shadows on the ground, half of a French travel brochure appearing from the side pocket of his schoolbag. "The school is on vacation for three days, how about we go to Paris to see the Eiffel Tower?" His eyes were surprisingly bright when he spoke, as if the June noon sunlight had been crushed into his pupils.
Gu Hanzhi's fingers tightened around the book's spine, the pages crackling softly in her palm. She looked at the willow catkins clinging to the boy's hair, and recalled the moment last week at the physics competition awards ceremony, when Shen Zhihe had thrust the trophy into her arms in front of the entire school and said, "This spot should have been yours." The auditorium's overhead lights had poured down, casting a gentle golden edge on his profile. Now, that same golden hue rested on the corners of his slightly raised mouth, brimming with anticipation.
"But the plane ticket..." Gu Hanzhi lowered her eyes to avoid his burning gaze, but was startled by the sudden cold touch on the back of her neck.
Shen Zhihe had circled behind her at some point, two lavender plane tickets clutched between his fingers. The silhouette of the Eiffel Tower on the tickets shimmered in the sunlight. "I've booked them a long time ago. Consider it a way to make up for the birthday trip you missed last time." His breath brushed against her ear, carrying the sweetness of mint candy. "And—" the boy suddenly reached out and gently brushed the catkins from her hair. "I heard the Trevi Fountain by the Seine in France is a hundred times more effective than the old locust tree on the hill behind the school."
Willow branches entangled Gu Hanzhi's sleeves. She looked at the boy's serious expression and finally uttered a soft "hmm." Shen Zhihe smiled and shook the plane ticket in his hand. The silver bell and the red string clashed, making a crisp sound that startled the sparrows sleeping among the willow branches and sent them fluttering off into the cloud-filled sky.
In the afternoon, a light sweat formed on Gu Hanzhi's fingertips as she gripped the pen. The function graph on the math paper blurred into a blur of ink in the dim light. Suddenly, her phone chimed against the wooden tabletop, the WeChat notification piercing the silence like a summer rainstorm.
Three red exclamation marks danced across Jiang Wanning's message box, the text within the bubble lingering with joy: "Hanzhi, Hanzhi, I found a super fun park. Let's go together for Dragon Boat Festival, okay?" It was accompanied by a series of emojis depicting fireworks and holding hands. Gu Hanzhi stared at the screen, the shadow of the camphor tree outside the window gently swaying against her eyelashes, her pen unconsciously scratching crooked lines across the draft paper.
After a long pause, she typed, "No time, I'm going on a trip to Paris with Zhihe." The moment she pressed send, her heartbeat inexplicably quickened, as if announcing a secret expectation to the world. Amid the hum of the air conditioner, her phone suddenly rang with a sharp call notification. Her hand trembled, and her pen left a long trail of ink on the paper.
"Gu Hanzhi!" Jiang Wanning's voice exploded with electricity. "What kind of magic did that guy named Chen put on you? You only have three days off, and you're going on a date in Paris!" Her bestie's barrage of questions made Gu Hanzhi sit up straight, her back pressed against the cold seat. She glanced at a photo of the two of them at the amusement park last year on her desk. In it, Jiang Wanning was holding a marshmallow, its threads swirling in the wind towards the camera.
"You better get married, or I won't let you two go!" The ending trembled with a feigned ferocity, yet it couldn't conceal its teasing. Gu Hanzhi felt her cheeks burning, the tips of her ears red as if they were dripping blood, and even her neck was flushed. She frantically grabbed a nearby fan and fanned herself, the plastic ribs making a crisp sound as they hit the glass.
"Okay, okay," she said, her tone softening, her fingertips unconsciously stroking the stickers on the corner of the table. "I'll bring you some snacks when I travel, okay? They say foreign snacks are the best." The other end of the line suddenly fell silent, and a faint breathing sound could be heard. Just when Gu Hanzhi thought the signal was disconnected, Jiang Wanning muttered shyly, "Well... well, I'll let you two off just this once."
The cicadas outside the window grew increasingly noisy, yet Gu Hanzhi felt the air had become refreshingly sweet. She glanced at the screenshot of the Eiffel Tower guide Shen Zhihe had sent her this morning, and her lips curled up unconsciously. The unfinished function problem on her draft paper had been covered with crooked hearts, gleaming softly in the setting sun.
Sunlight filtered through the glass dome of the airport, refracting tiny specks of light on the handle of Gu Hanzhi's suitcase. She glanced down at her watch. The hands pointed to 2:00 PM. The cool touch of the metal dial against her wrist was a striking resemblance to Shen Zhihe's voice on the other end of the line.
"This way." A voice came from behind. Gu Hanzhi turned and saw Shen Zhihe stuffing his phone back into his windbreaker pocket, the hem of his black shirt lifted by the air conditioning vent. The moment their eyes met, the boarding notice for the flight suddenly blared over the loudspeaker. The electronic sound, engulfed in the clamor of the crowd, stirred a small commotion in the spacious terminal.
The glass of the corridor reflected two figures walking side by side. Gu Hanzhi unconsciously adjusted her pace, keeping the sound of her heels half a beat away from Shen Zhihe's steady footsteps. As her fingertips wrinkled her boarding pass, she heard the rustling of fabric beside her—Shen Zhihe had already raised his hand to take her suitcase, his knuckles tapping out a rhythmic beat on the handle, as if playing an unknown melody.
Amid the roar of the plane's engines, Gu Hanzhi buckled her seatbelt and watched the clouds outside the window being ripped apart by the wings into a cotton-wool-like mass. Beside her, Shen Zhihe was flipping through the in-flight magazine, his Adam's apple rolling slightly as he swallowed. As the flight attendant wheeled past with the food cart, he silently adjusted the tray table for her. The moment their fingertips touched, the sunlight from 30,000 feet pierced the clouds, casting a wavering golden glow on the empty seat next to him.
Soon, Gu Hanzhi fell asleep, leaning against the cockpit. Her eyelashes cast a subtle shadow beneath her lids. Shen Zhihe gently unfolded the blanket, carefully pressing the corners against her side. His fingertips brushed through her fallen hair with exquisite gentleness. The cabin lights were set to soft mode. He sat down beside her, his eyes occasionally glancing at her sleeping face, the corners of his lips curling slightly.
Outside the porthole, the Eiffel Tower stretched its silhouette against the twilight. Shen Zhihe gently tapped on the window, waking Gu Hanzhi, who was curled up in a ball in the seat next to him. The eight-hour flight had left the girl's hair disheveled across her face, and her eyelashes fluttered as she woke, like a butterfly about to take flight.
"Hanzhi, we're about to get off the plane, wake up." His voice was wrapped in the cold air circulating in the cabin, but it was unexpectedly warm.
Gu Hanzhi sat up abruptly, the metal chain of her watch rubbing against her wrist. The cabin ceiling light reflected tiny specks of light in her pupils. She stared at the jumping numbers on the dial, the hum of the engine still lingering in her ears. "Have I slept for a full eight hours? I didn't even realize it." The tail end of her voice was hoarse, like wrinkled silk, just after waking up.
The moment the cabin door opened, the wind from the Seine swept into the cabin, carrying the scent of perfume. Gu Hanzhi lowered her eyes to adjust her skirt, not noticing the faint blush on the tip of the ear of the person beside her. The two of them followed the crowd toward the jet bridge, their suitcases rolling as the Parisian night gently streamed through the window.
Shen Zhihe's arms were sore from dragging the suitcase, and the handle had left deep red marks on his fingertips. As Gu Hanzhi flipped open her phone to check the hotel reservation page, a red-haired woman wearing a pearl brooch suddenly stopped in front of them. Her burgundy scarf fluttered in the Parisian afternoon breeze as she spoke in rapid-fire French, her words trailing off with a light trill.
Gu Hanzhi nodded slightly in response, her eyelashes casting fan-shaped shadows under her eyes. Shen Zhihe only caught a few simple words in their back-and-forth conversation. The copper bells of the streetside cafe tinkled intermittently, and their conversation drifted like a boat on the Seine, swaying and drifting for nearly half an hour.
After a few final pleasantries, the aunt finally left. Shen Zhihe immediately grabbed Gu Hanzhi's clothes and said, "Who is she? How come you two are so familiar with each other, like neighbors? The language you're speaking is so confusing."
"She's a Parisian." Gu Hanzhi tucked her hair behind her ear, the silver ring on her ring finger gleaming faintly. "Two years ago, she came to Linjiang City to learn a craft, and I served as her guide." He suddenly smiled, his eyes curved into a beautiful arc. "Just now she said she opened a luxurious President Hotel in the Marais district, not far from here, and told us to stay there directly. We don't even need a room card."
Arriving at the hotel entrance, the two were stunned. They knew it was large, but not this huge. Like a massive fortress rising from the ground, the hotel, roughly ten stories high, its horizontally sprawling structure imposing and majestic. Stepping inside, a dazzling light washed over them, and every sight seemed gilded—the walls, pillars, and lighting all reflected a dazzling luster. Every detail was meticulously crafted, and an air of luxury and rich fragrance lingered everywhere, radiating a sense of dignity and elegance.
The staff led the two into the presidential suite. The carved door slid silently open, and the warm yellow crystal lamps instantly illuminated this castle in the sky hidden in the clouds. Gu Hanzhi stepped on the soft touch of the Persian carpet, her eyes sweeping across the entire wall of floor-to-ceiling windows—the dazzling night view was like a flowing galaxy, immersing the 200-square-meter space into a glazed fantasy.
The two-bedroom, one-living room layout resembled an intricately crafted puzzle. Italian leather sofas surrounded a built-in fireplace. The marble countertops of the open kitchen shone with a cool glow, and the indicator lights of the smart appliances flickered in the twilight. Shen Zhihe's fingertips traced over the 1982 Lafite in the wine cabinet. The champagne in the ice bucket condensed with tiny droplets. The crystal chandelier cast tiny specks of light on his glasses, echoing the neon lights of the traffic outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.
After the staff left, Shen Zhihe widened his eyes, his tone full of surprise: "Who is that auntie, and how come she is so rich?" Before he finished speaking, there was already a gleam of inquiry in his eyes.
Gu Hanzhi raised her hand to smooth the strands of hair by her ear, explaining calmly yet solemnly, "That auntie's name is Eleanor Vechou, the Grand Duchess of France. The hotel she owns is a sensation in France. From its design to its operation, it exudes extraordinary grandeur and luxury. It's no exaggeration to call it a legend in the industry."
Shen Zhihe looked up, the black tea in his cup rippled. "She's actually a duchess! Not only is she famous, but she's also wealthy. I'm so envious."
Gu Hanzhi's fingertips unconsciously rubbed the gilded pocket watch chain, and her sleeves swept across the sheepskin map on the table: "Don't worry about that for now. So, where do you plan to go first?"
"Why don't we go see a movie tomorrow?" Shen Zhihe suddenly became interested. "I heard that with the film technology in Paris, you can even see the flutter of an actor's eyelashes. The scripts are even more exciting than Broadway shows."
The next day, dusk shrouded the streets in a drizzle. Shen Zhihe and Gu Hanzhi arrived at the cinema on time, stepping on damp sycamore leaves. Outside, the electronic screen flickered with a cold, faint blue light. On the poster for the newly released French film "Romeo and Juliet," the silhouettes of the hero and heroine kissing in a rose mist were illuminated by spotlights.
As the ticket check unfolded, a robotic female voice announced three minutes until showtime. As their fingertips touched, the scent of mint and cedar permeated the air. As the lights in the carved dome dimmed and the screen lit up, moonlight streamed down from medieval Verona. This fantasy romance, adapted from Shakespeare's classic, blended fate and romance into a breathtaking visual feast, complete with scattered rose petals and suspended crystal chandeliers.
The film reaches its climax, a blood-red moonlight stained Juliet's coffin. Romeo shudders as he downs the poison, his Adam's apple rolling in a broken sob. As Juliet's eyelashes flutter as she awakens, her fingertips caressing her lover's cooling face, Gu Hanzhi's breath abruptly stops. On the screen, crimson blood flows like a river, overlapping in the darkness with the unhealed scar on her wrist.
"Zhihe..." Her whisper was crushed by the sound of metal piercing Juliet's chest in the movie. Her voice mingled with the film's mournful ending score: "So... suicide for love really isn't just a legend."
The moment the ceiling light of the theater suddenly lit up, the screening time of "Romeo and Juliet" on the scattered movie tickets was stained into a blurred blood red by tears.
The neon lights of the dissipated show flowed like a river on the glass curtain wall. Gu Hanzhi held Shen Zhihe's hand. Her hair brushed his shoulder, and her voice was as sweet as popcorn: "Zhihe, tell me, if I died for any reason, would you die for me?"
Shen Zhihe paused abruptly. The cold wind from the cinema room's exit whipped his hair across his slightly furrowed brow. His eyes, always smiling, suddenly frosted. His dark pupils, like ice-hardened swords, pierced Gu Hanzhi's gaze. "What nonsense are you talking about?" He grabbed her wrist with his backhand, his knuckles white and almost transparent. "You won't die." His Adam's apple rolled violently, and he leaned over, burying his trembling breaths into her hair. "If you die..." The last syllable was like torn silk. "I will not hesitate to go to the underworld to find you."
Gu Hanzhi looked up at Shen Zhihe. The streetlight stretched his shadow so long that it almost enveloped her. She suddenly burst out laughing, "Silly boy, dying for love is not worth it. If I'm really gone, you have to live well and finish what we haven't done yet."
Shen Zhihe's Adam's apple moved, and he held her cold hand in his palm: "For example?"
"For example, go to Iceland to see the northern lights, and wait for the sunrise in the desert," Gu Hanzhi counted on her fingers, her eyelashes casting butterfly-like shadows under her eyes, "and also get a ginger cat. It would be best if we could open a bookstore. You sit at the cashier and I'll make coffee by the window..." Her voice gradually became softer, and she was suddenly embraced by Shen Zhihe.
"Hanzhi," he said, his chin resting against the top of her head, his voice muffled, "Don't ever say that again. If you die, who will watch the crabapple blossoms with me at four in the morning? Who will compete with me for first place in the grade?" The wind blew dead leaves across the ground. Shen Zhihe tightened his arms, as if wanting to rub the person in his arms into his bones and blood. "We agreed to live together until our hair turns gray, sitting in rocking chairs and complaining about each other's dentures not fitting properly."
The spire of Notre Dame pierced the orange-red clouds, casting a slanting shadow on the fountain of the Place de la Concorde. The water droplets reflected in the sunset, creating tiny rainbows. As the streetlights gradually came on, the Arc de Triomphe was outlined in a warm yellow halo, like a slowly unfolding Impressionist painting, weaving the romance and laziness of Paris into this gentle summer night.
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