What are you looking at?
Yang Huanyi leaned over and glanced curiously at the book in Shang Yechu's hand: "Hannibal? At a time like this, why are you looking at this?"
In order to understand Zhao Lele's psychology, Shang Yechu consulted with the psychology master Ji Juntao. After listening to the script overview, Mr. Ji gave Shang Yechu a reading list and asked him to read it.
There was no point in hiding this from Yang Huanyi. After Shang Yechu briefly explained, Yang Huanyi became even more curious.
"Isn't that the story about cannibals?" Yang Huanyi flipped through the pages of the book in Shang Yechu's hand. "Zhao Lele isn't a cannibal, so what does she have to do with Hannibal?"
As Yang Huanyi turned the page, more text appeared. Shang Yechu glanced at it casually and saw the sentence, "She said, 'Hannibal Lecter, did your mother breastfeed you?'"
Shang Yechu pushed the books that Yang Huanyi had messed up back down and shook her head helplessly: "I don't know either."
Yang Huanyi remained silent for a long time. Being squeezed by her, Shang Yechu felt a little hot.
The two are currently on the high-speed rail in Taiwan, their destination being the prototype of the general in the script—the former residence of that general.
Shang Yechu and Yang Huanyi finally understood that staying cooped up indoors and working in isolation would never lead to any insights, even if they spent ten thousand years together. Therefore, they decided to take a gamble in the last ten days and go to Zhao Cheng's former residence on the island of Taiwan to search for clues or inspiration.
To maintain secrecy, Yang Huanyi and Shang Yechu were both fully bundled up, resembling rice dumplings. Shang Yechu even wore exaggerated smoky eye makeup, making her eyes appear larger than usual. With a mask on, she looked like a member of the "non-mainstream funeral family" (a term referring to a subculture known for its unconventional and often humorous style). Fortunately, the high-speed train had air conditioning, making it warm and comfortable even in December. Shang Yechu was already feeling hot, and when Yang Huanyi squeezed closer, he immediately broke out in a sweat.
Zhao Cheng's former residence has now become a tourist attraction, located in a remote area. Shang Yechu and Yang Huanyi got out of the car; there was still a long way to go. Taiwan is densely populated and limited by land, making cars inconvenient. Yang Huanyi, familiar with the area, rented a motorcycle, patted the seat, and smiled at Shang Yechu, "Get on?"
Shang Ye paused for a moment.
First of all, Shang Yechu isn't afraid of motorcycles, but does Yang Huanyi even know how to ride one? How skilled is she? The roads on the island are so complicated; what if she falls and gets thrown off, injuring both of them? Then "Anna Doraemon" would be a flop.
Secondly, it wasn't that Shang Yechu didn't trust Yang Huanyi. A thousand scenarios flashed through Shang Yechu's mind: she and Yang Huanyi flying out at the same time, tracing two graceful parabolas in the air, the one hanging on a branch and the other crashing onto the roadside.
Finally, it wasn't that Shang Yechu didn't want to ride in the back of Yang Huanyi's car. Shang Yechu opened her mouth: "Can't we take a taxi?"
"Then we'll be stuck in traffic for ages," Yang Huanyi urged. "Time waits for no one. Everyone on the island takes motorcycles, so don't worry."
Shang Yechu changed the subject, saying, "So they call motorcycles 'motorcycles'?"
“You don’t need to be afraid.” Yang Huanyi saw through Shang Yechu’s little scheme at a glance. “I have a motorcycle license. I’ve ridden many times, and my skills are very solid. Even if I fall, you won’t fall.”
Shang Yechuxin said, "Whether you fall or I fall, it will delay the filming. What's the difference?"
Seeing that Shang Yechu remained silent, Yang Huanyi raised his hand and handed the helmet hanging on the front of the car to Shang Yechu: "Here, wear the helmet. Are you relieved now?"
The helmet was heavy and cold, and Shang Yechu felt a little more at ease holding it in her hands. But she still wouldn't move her feet: "Then what about you?"
Yang Huanyi laughed heartily: "What do you mean, 'what to do'? This is a perfect opportunity to show you my skills."
Perhaps because it involved her professional field, Yang Huanyi seemed somewhat like she was two years ago. Full of vigor, confident and decisive. A familiar feeling washed over her, and Shang Yechu gritted her teeth, finally agreeing: "Okay!"
The two boarded the motorcycle together. Shang Yechu put on her helmet and sat down, wrapping her arms around Yang Huanyi's waist and resting her chin on Yang Huanyi's back.
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