After Ling Yichen and Jun Moran bid farewell to the dazzling stage of the entertainment industry, they carefully built their own warm and cozy world in a quiet corner far from the hustle and bustle. The days flowed by gently and pleasantly like a babbling brook. Every morning, the sunlight would softly filter through the gaps in the curtains, and every night, the moonlight would envelop them as they slept peacefully. It seemed that everything had been frozen in this endless tranquility by time.
Ling Yichen is immersed in the world of painting; his studio is like a secluded art sanctuary. The room is filled with the unique aroma of paint mixed with turpentine. The walls are covered with his masterpieces, from lifelike landscape sketches, the brushstrokes so delicate they seem to convey the gentle breeze and swaying leaves, to imaginative abstract paintings where the interplay of color and line evokes a cry and contemplation from the depths of his soul. He often stands for hours, completely absorbed in pouring passion and inspiration onto the canvas, each stroke imbued with new insights and love for life, attempting to depict the tranquil and profound ocean within his heart through color and line.
Jun Mo Ran, on the other hand, roams freely in the vast universe of books. Her spacious and bright study is surrounded by tall bookshelves, like loyal guardians protecting the treasure trove of knowledge. She sits in a soft armchair, a steaming cup of fragrant tea beside her, the rising steam mingling with the aroma of the books. Sometimes she is captivated by the beautiful rhythms of classical literature, softly reciting the exquisite beauty of Tang and Song poetry, as if she were traveling through time to have a heart-to-heart talk with ancient literary giants; other times she is deeply immersed in the profound contemplation of philosophical works, frowning as she ponders the meaning of human existence and the mysteries of the universe, searching for the dawn of wisdom in the labyrinth of words.
Their lives were simple and pure. They spent their days together in the courtyard, watching the flowers they had planted bloom and fade with the changing seasons. In spring, vibrant roses burned like flames, releasing their fragrance; in summer, delicate jasmine carried a gentle breeze, its scent refreshing and invigorating; in autumn, golden chrysanthemums stood proudly against the frost, displaying their resilience; in winter, the wintersweet bloomed alone in the snow, emitting a subtle, cool fragrance. They would pause to admire the flowers in bloom, feeling the miracle and beauty of life; and they would not grieve when the flowers fell, understanding that this was the natural order and cycle.
However, this tranquility, like the seemingly unbreakable thin ice on a calm lake, is actually incredibly fragile. On a seemingly ordinary afternoon, the sunlight was still bright and somewhat languid. Jun Mo Ran was organizing books in her study as usual. When her fingers inadvertently brushed against an old photo album, a subtle ripple stirred within her. That album held precious memories of their acting careers; each photograph was a frozen moment in time, each scene telling a story of past glory and passion.
She slowly flipped through the photo album, the first picture catching her eye being a still from their first collaboration. Ling Yichen looked slightly green in the photo, yet his eyes revealed a stubbornness and determination; she herself smiled brightly, full of anticipation and hope for the future. Looking at this photo, Jun Mo Ran's lips unconsciously curved upwards, and memories long buried deep within her flooded back. Every moment they shared on set, the nervousness and excitement of their first scene together, the exhaustion and perseverance of rehearsing a single shot repeatedly—all played out vividly and clearly in her mind, as if it were yesterday.
Jun Mo Ran's gaze continued to wander through the photo album, lingering on a picture of them walking the red carpet. Back then, they were already the focus of the entertainment industry, radiant in their gorgeous gowns under the flashing lights. Ling Yi Chen stood tall and straight, exuding gentlemanly charm in every gesture; she nestled beside him, like an elegant princess, radiating captivating allure. In the photo, they smiled broadly, as if they possessed the whole world. Recalling that scene, Jun Mo Ran felt a mixture of nostalgia for past glory and an indescribable melancholy. Those shining moments on stage were now a distant past, offering only solace in this photo album.
When she turned to the last page, she saw a photo of their farewell performance. In the photo, their eyes held a mixture of reluctance and relief. At that moment, Jun Mo Ran realized deeply that they had completely bid farewell to the stage they had fought for for so many years and begun a brand new chapter in their lives. Although life was peaceful and beautiful now, there always seemed to be an unfillable void deep in their hearts, a faint longing for the past glory.
Jun Mo Ran gently closed the photo album, let out a long sigh, and tried to bury these turbulent thoughts deep in his heart. However, that strange fluctuation spread like ripples across the calm lake of his heart, lingering for a long time.
At dinner, Jun Mo Ran seemed somewhat absent-minded. She sat silently at the table, her chopsticks idly fiddling with the food in her bowl, but she didn't put any into her mouth. Ling Yi Chen keenly noticed her unusual behavior and asked with concern, "Mo Ran, what's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?" Jun Mo Ran slightly raised her head, a hint of confusion in her eyes, and shook her head, saying, "I'm fine. It's just that this afternoon I saw our old photo album in the study, and it suddenly made me a little sentimental." Ling Yi Chen was slightly taken aback, then gently took her hand and comforted her, "The past is the past. We're happy with our lives now, aren't we?" Jun Mo Ran forced a smile and nodded, saying, "Yes, I know. It's just that sometimes I can't help but think about those days on stage."
That night, Jun Mo Ran lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. Images from the photo album kept flashing through her mind—the laughter, tears, applause, and glory of the past—playing on a loop like a movie. She didn't know why she was suddenly like this; she had clearly said goodbye to the past, so why was she still troubled by these memories? Beside her, Ling Yi Chen was also unable to sleep peacefully. He could feel the turmoil in Jun Mo Ran's heart, and his own heart was also filled with turmoil. He began to reflect on whether their decision to leave the stage was truly the right one, and whether their current peaceful life could truly satisfy the deepest desires of their hearts.
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