Li Wanqiu had been right: the food here truly was delicious, and Ji Jinyan seemed to enjoy it immensely.
Seeing that it suited her taste, Li Wanqiu finally breathed a sigh of relief, lifting her glass to take a delicate sip. Though she had boldly claimed earlier that having a few glasses wouldn’t hurt, she played it safe—those “few glasses” ultimately dwindled down to just one.
Constantly imposing on Ji Jinyan would simply be too embarrassing.
After lunch, they still had plenty of time to spare. Recalling Ji Jinyan’s mention that she was free for the entire day, Li Wanqiu paused, pulling out her phone to search for another activity.
A quick search showed a cinema conveniently located nearby.
“Are you busy with work later?” She tilted her head up to look at Ji Jinyan. “Do you have time to catch a movie?”
“Sure.” Ji Jinyan nodded, accepting without hesitation.
“Great.” Li Wanqiu smoothed out her bag and headed to the front desk to settle the bill, only to be informed that a lady had already paid for it.
“Ji Jinyan?” Stunned, Li Wanqiu whirled around to look at the woman behind her in disbelief. “Didn’t we agree that it was my treat?”
Ji Jinyan offered an easy smile. “I only just realized I hold a VIP membership card here. I happened to entertain a client at another branch before.”
“Besides, I’m hardly coming out behind,” she added. “You’re about to treat me to a movie anyway.”
“Fine, then.” Li Wanqiu sighed, relenting. “We have a deal: I am definitely paying for the next one.”
“Mm.” Ji Jinyan nodded without another word, her lips curving in quiet assent.
Since it was Saturday, schools were out, coinciding with the release of several children’s animated films, which were running on heavy rotation.
Li Wanqiu scanned the showtimes and found that the next immediate screening was already fully booked. For the slightly later slots, only two titles remained: an animated movie and a horror film.
As it happened, Li Wanqiu was terrified of ghosts.
She kept that to herself, however, turning instead toward Ji Jinyan to test the waters: “Between these two, is there one you’d prefer to watch?”
The answer seemed painfully obvious. Ji Jinyan was in her thirties and an accomplished executive; she could hardly be expected to harbor an interest in cartoons. Yet in a desperate last-ditch effort, Li Wanqiu asked anyway.
Ji Jinyan glanced at her sideways, remaining silent for a lingering moment.
Li Wanqiu blinked under her gaze, feeling self-conscious. “Is, is something wrong?”
“Nothing.” Ji Jinyan shook her head, pulling her eyes away. When she spoke again, her choice was already made. “Let’s watch this one.”
Her slender finger pointed squarely at the animated feature.
“Ji Jinyan,” Li Wanqiu blurted out in astonishment, “are you serious?”
“Mm,” Ji Jinyan acknowledged. “I saw it mentioned online; word of mouth seemed quite positive.”
She turned back to face her, eyes gleaming with quiet amusement. “Think of it as a chance to unwind.”
“All right, then!” Li Wanqiu beamed, thrilled at dodging the horror movie. She hurried over to purchase the tickets, picking up popcorn and drinks along the way, a triumphant smile lighting up her whole face.
“Let’s go,” she said cheerily.
“Okay.” Ji Jinyan followed closely behind her.
Once inside the auditorium, Li Wanqiu cast a quick glance around and confirmed that the seats were indeed filled with children.
Still, other adults were present. Directly in front of them, for instance, sat a young couple, though the tension between them was palpable. Before the opening credits even rolled, they were already bickering back and forth.
Their voices were so loud it was impossible to ignore them.
It turned out they had originally intended to buy tickets for the horror film. But because the showtimes were so close, the boyfriend had been careless and somehow bought tickets for this animation instead. They hadn’t noticed until printing the stubs, and after agonizing over it for a bit, they had trudged inside anyway.
The girlfriend was visibly furious, smacking the boy’s arm repeatedly: “What are we going to do? Tell me, what are we supposed to do now?”
The boyfriend shrunk back meekly: “What else can we do? We’re already here, might as well watch it.”
Hearing that, the girl grew even more incensed: “I just checked online—it’s only rated a 6.1! With a score that low, how could it possibly be good?”
6.1.
Li Wanqiu froze. Instinctively, she looked at the profile of Ji Jinyan’s face. Remembering her claim that the film had “positive word of mouth,” the truth dawned on her at once. Ji Jinyan had chosen this movie entirely to accommodate her.
A wave of sheepish gratitude washed over Li Wanqiu, but before she could say anything, the theater lights dimmed and the movie began.
Li Wanqiu had no choice but to pull her gaze away and focus on the silver screen. As it progressed, she discovered the film wasn’t nearly as awful as the online consensus made it out to be.
While the overarching storyline was undeniably childish, the underlying craftsmanship and heart shone through several key scenes. Watching it to the end, Li Wanqiu even found herself reflecting on a few genuine moral takeaways.
“What did you think of the movie? Did you find it okay?” She turned to ask Ji Jinyan as the credits rolled.
Ji Jinyan didn’t offer a direct review, saying only, “The main character reminded me a lot of you.”
Li Wanqiu looked puzzled. “Really?”
“Mm.” Ji Jinyan nodded in confirmation, saying nothing further as she led the way out toward the lobby.
The cinema was hosting a promotional giveaway that day: moviegoers holding ticket stubs could redeem a pair of hair clips designed after the protagonist—cat ears in a variety of vibrant colors.
They were meant as toys for children. Li Wanqiu had initially declined, but overwhelmed by the staff member’s enthusiasm, she ended up accepting two after all.
One yellow, one pink.
Li Wanqiu extended the pink one toward Ji Jinyan, saying in all earnestness, “Take this. You can give it to a child later.”
The moment the words left her mouth, Ji Jinyan reached over and clipped the yellow ears right onto Li Wanqiu’s head.
Li Wanqiu: “?”
Li Wanqiu: “What are you doing?”
“It suits you,” Ji Jinyan answered smoothly, a vivid smile dancing across her lips.
Li Wanqiu: “?”
Thoroughly speechless, Li Wanqiu pulled up her phone camera to inspect herself. The two plush ears bounced with every slight tilt of her head, looking utterly silly.
She paused. A mischievous idea sparked in her mind. Calling out Ji Jinyan’s name, she seized the exact moment Ji Jinyan turned toward her to clip the pink pair onto her dark hair.
“It suits you too,” she declared, a spark of playful defiance flashing in her eyes.
“Does it?” Mimicking her motion, Ji Jinyan raised her phone, leaning her shoulder close into Li Wanqiu’s space.
“Li Wanqiu,” she murmured, “say cheese.”
Li Wanqiu: “?”
Li Wanqiu froze. Her pretty eyes widened into perfect round circles, the glazed amber of her pupils flooded with sudden panic.
Click.
Time froze right at that instant.
After spending the entire afternoon out and about, a pleasant fatigue settled over her body.
Li Wanqiu stepped into the bathroom for a shower, then crawled contentedly into bed. Opening WeChat Moments, she saw that Yan Weiwei had posted an update not long ago.
Dusk had already deepened outside, and the streetlights along the sidewalks were flickering on. Yan Weiwei stood beneath a lamppost posing for a selfie, wearing a face of pure, aggrieved misery.
Caption: If I ever go out with Song Yu again, I’m a dog!
A flurry of likes and comments followed beneath, all from their mutual circle of friends who had joined the excursion. Scrolling down, over a dozen comments in a row were enthusiastically seconding the sentiment.
Amused and curious, Li Wanqiu switched to her private chat with Yan Weiwei: What happened? Did you run into an emergency?
You have no idea! Yan Weiwei’s reply flew back instantly, radiating deep resentment through the screen. Song Yu took us hiking up a mountain!
Isn’t that a good thing? Li Wanqiu remarked. Good exercise.
Good exercise my foot! Yan Weiwei let out an exasperated sigh through text. The idiot couldn’t tell north from south! God knows where she found that godforsaken trail, but despite being the organizer, she was the very first one to get lost. We told her to go east and she dragged us west, leading us in endless circles for hours!
Skipping out was the best decision you ever made, Yan Weiwei declared fiercely. No matter what anyone says, I am never going again!
It sounded delightfully pathetic.
Li Wanqiu couldn’t help laughing out loud, typing out several messages in a row to soothe her friend until Yan Weiwei finally calmed down.
What about you? Yan Weiwei asked next. Did you have fun with President Ji today?
It was nice, Li Wanqiu replied with a nod, giving her a brief rundown of the day while deliberately leaving out the part where two grown women had watched a children’s cartoon together.
As expected, Yan Weiwei was green with envy: Sounds amazing.
Li Wanqiu: I’ll treat you next time.
Yan Weiwei perked up immediately: Deal!
Just then, the ride arranged to pick them up arrived. Yan Weiwei said a hurried goodbye and hopped into the car.
Li Wanqiu exited the chat. Remembering the couple’s complaints about the rating, she looked up the movie out of curiosity and found that the score had actually nudged upward slightly, sitting at 6.3.
See? It really wasn’t that bad.
Li Wanqiu smiled, tapping through the comment section. Opinions were mixed—mostly praising or dissecting the storyline—but reviewers were remarkably forgiving when it came to the lead character, agreeing that the protagonist was well-crafted and genuinely endearing.
Endearing.
Li Wanqiu paused, the words Ji Jinyan had spoken back in the auditorium echoing in her mind: “The main character reminded me a lot of you.”
In the next second, her phone vibrated with an incoming notification. It was a message from Ji Jinyan. Tapping it open, she found the photo they had taken together in the cinema lobby.
Li Wanqiu pinched the screen to zoom in. The cat ears—evidently cheap in make—somehow looked remarkably elegant resting against Ji Jinyan’s dark locks. She studied it closely for a while, and when her eyes drifted back toward herself on the screen, the sight no longer felt quite so mortifying.
It wasn’t until she went to close the photo that Li Wanqiu noticed the subtle upturn at the corners of her own lips.
She froze.
This didn’t feel like her usual self at all. After a moment of flustered confusion, she finally grasped at a convenient explanation in the depths of her mind.
She must still be a little tipsy from lunch.
Yes, that was it. It was entirely the red wine’s fault.