On Friday, Yu Shuxin generously treated everyone—each member of the crew received a custom-made cheesecake from a Michelin-starred chef.
Ding Yuxi also got one from her, blueberry flavor.
Yu Shuxin whispered to him, “See you tonight, don’t be late.”
“Don’t be late.” Ding Yuxi asked curiously, “What are you wearing tonight?”
This year, Yu Shuxin’s birthday party was a costume party—guests were supposed to cosplay as classic film and TV characters.
Yu Shuxin winked her left eye playfully and proudly, “It’s a secret.”
During a break in filming, Yu Shuxin, like a curious kid, came over and poked Ding Yuxi twice: “Director Ding, what are you wearing tonight?”
Ding Yuxi deliberately teased her, winking his right eye: “It’s a secret.”
Yu Shuxin was indeed annoyed and stormed off: “Hmph!”
Just thinking about what he was going to wear tonight made Ding Yuxi want to laugh. To keep his crew colleagues from thinking he had some kind of mental issue, he covered his mouth and stared at the monitor until the crew finally wrapped for the day.
Yu Shuxin’s birthday party was held at Chunting Wan, one of Shanghai’s most exclusive private clubs.
Ding Yuxi took a cab to the understated yet grand entrance of Chunting Wan. He looked at the security guards in their crisp suits, then at his own puffy down jacket paired with gray dress pants, and felt a bit out of place.
Fortunately, ahead of him was a guy with his hair full of curlers, wrapped in a long down jacket. He jumped out of the car and, barefoot in slippers, trotted all the way inside.
Ding Yuxi walked in carrying his vintage Polaroid camera, gave the room number at the front desk, and a server immediately led him over.
From a distance, he saw Yu Shuxin greeting friends at the entrance. She was wearing a bright pink velvet suit dress, with a small bright pink hat pinned to her blonde wig.
Yu Shuxin was like a vibrant pink bomb of enthusiasm. She happily high-fived the guy with curlers in his hair, then said in a coquettish voice, “Wow, Landlady! Why is the water suddenly cut off?”
“Water costs money, you idiots!”
The two of them cracked each other up.
Yu Shuxin laughed so hard she swayed like a flower, like a gorgeous pink phalaenopsis orchid trembling in the breeze. Her blonde wig gently swayed by her ears, occasionally brushing against her cheek, evoking Natsume Soseki’s phrase, “Even the wind is gentle.”
Ding Yuxi was stunned by her costume. He quickened his pace for a few steps, then felt a little ridiculous, so he slowed down and strolled casually toward the entrance.
Yu Shuxin happily waved at Lin Sen: “Go on in and have fun.”
Turning her head, she saw Ding Yuxi holding a black down jacket in his left hand and a strange-looking camera with a flash in his right.
As a photography enthusiast, Yu Shuxin immediately recognized it as a Polaroid folding camera.
But Ding Yuxi’s costume was…?
He was wearing a white shirt and a beige vest, with gray dress pants, looking like a Westernized young master from the Republican era, with a slightly comical pair of silver round glasses on his face.
Yu Shuxin felt the character was very familiar, almost on the tip of her tongue, but she just couldn’t remember the name.
Ding Yuxi looked at her slightly parted lips expectantly, thinking, this should be really easy to guess.
A flash of inspiration hit Yu Shuxin, and she shouted, “Alec Su!”
“…”
“It’s Du Fei, okay?” Ding Yuxi deliberately mimicked Du Fei’s tone: “Miss, my surname is Du—Du as in ‘cut off all ties,’ and Fei as in ‘the egg breaks and the chicken flies.'”
Yu Shuxin was amused into giggles: “So it’s the great Reporter Du who’s graced us with her presence. Truly, my humble birthday party is honored beyond measure.”
Then she clasped her hands together and made a gesture of a hostess welcoming a guest inside: “Right this way, Reporter Du.”
“Thank you, dear Ella.” Ding Yuxi smiled as she brushed past Yu Shuxin. Today, she wore a different scent—a sweet rose fragrance laced with a hint of cool, woody notes.
The sweet yet resilient aroma complemented her pink outfit perfectly. Elle Woods, the protagonist of Legally Blonde—a brave woman who stays true to herself and loves pink.
The room was already lively. A professional DJ was on stage spinning tracks, the music hovering somewhere between raucous and subdued, and everyone looked cheerful and festive.
Ding Yuxi found a seat and sat down. She was allergic to alcohol, so she grabbed a glass of juice to moisten her throat.
For some reason, she kept feeling someone’s gaze lingering on her. Ding Yuxi paid it no mind—she was probably a new face in Yu Shuxin’s circle, so curious looks were only natural.
“Ding Zhoujie, long time no see.”
Ding Yuxi looked up at the voice. It was a beautiful woman in a black tactical bodysuit, channeling Black Widow’s iconic look from the Marvel movies.
She hesitated and stood up, her mind racing. Someone she knew before college?
A classmate?
But she scoured her sparse memory and couldn’t match this woman to any face from her past.
Ding Yuxi naturally and gracefully clinked glasses: “Long time no see, old classmate.”
The beautiful woman looked at her with a teasing smile, the crimson curve of her lips both dangerous and alluring: “Oh? Then do you remember who I am?”
Ding Yuxi froze, then laughed it off: “Getting older, I’m afraid I really can’t recall.”
The “Black Widow” seductively tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear and smiled: “You’d remember if it were anyone else. I’m Qin Tianjiao from the class next door.”
If it had been anyone else from the neighboring class, Ding Yuxi might not have remembered. But Qin Tianjiao was different—from her first placement test in freshman year of high school to the final college entrance exam, she had been firmly locked into first place in the grade.
Someone that impressive from school days would be hard to forget.
But the woman before her now was a far cry from the studious top student in her memory.
The Qin Tianjiao Ding Yuxi remembered wore a ponytail and thick glasses, speaking stiffly and formally when giving speeches as the student representative. She hadn’t been nearly as radiant as she was now.
Ding Yuxi smiled and said, “Then I do remember—our grade’s top scorer. I recall you went to Peking University after the exams.”
Qin Tianjiao pursed her lips in a smile, looking her up and down. This person—even with a fifty-fifty chance, she’d still guess wrong. But she knew this was Ding Yuxi’s way of easing the awkwardness and creating distance. She was saying, I remember you, I haven’t forgotten you.
This person was still trying to be the nice guy, just like always.
Between an old classmate’s pride and her alma mater’s dignity, Qin Tianjiao chose to defend her school’s honor: “It’s Tsinghua. I went to Tsinghua’s physics department.”
Ding Yuxi awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, which, paired with his round glasses, made him look even more dazed.
He changed the subject: “But seriously, you’ve changed quite a bit.”
Ding Yuxi’s eyes could speak—Qin Tianjiao had noticed this back in high school. The eyes are the window to the soul, and Ding Yuxi’s eyes were like floor-to-ceiling windows: bright, clear, and sincere.
He said she’d changed a lot, but there was no lustful gleam of being seduced by her beauty in his gaze. All you could see was his genuine happiness that she had become better.
Qin Tianjiao said frankly, “How could I not have changed? I’ve had multiple plastic surgeries. Every feature you see on my face now—I’ve had work done on all of it.”
Ding Yuxi felt like he was about to be run over by the suicide truck that was Qin Tianjiao, this social terrorist.
He was silent for a moment, then managed to squeeze out only one sentence: “Then… it must have hurt a lot.”