Huayu 2014: From Traffic Stars to Superstars

Chapter 77, Epimedium

The days after the computer was turned on went by quickly.

Every day in Bangkok begins at dawn.

At 5:45, before it was fully light, footsteps could be heard in the hotel corridor.

At 6:00 a.m. sharp, the crew's bus departed on time, passing through the still-sleeping streets of Bangkok, heading to the filming location for the day.

The filming location changes every day; sometimes it's an abandoned dock, sometimes it's a narrow alley in an urban village, and sometimes it's a mangrove forest along the Mekong River.

Gao Huan's schedule is packed with scenes.

Especially the large-scale chase scene with 300 people on the first day, which was filmed for another day later.

He had to run from the dock to the container stacks, from the container stacks to the fishing boats on the shore, and from the fishing boats into the river.

Dante Lam's camera followed him the entire time, chasing him as fast as he ran, with no cuts in between, all in one continuous shot.

In temperatures over 30 degrees Celsius, he filmed from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m., running more than 20 times. His knees were scraped by the iron railings, his forearms were bruised by the corners of the shipping containers, and his skin turned white from being soaked in the river.

But each time it's better than the last.

Dante Lam sat behind the monitor, watching the playback without saying a word.

But his expression slowly changed, from initial scrutiny to observation, from observation to focus, and from focus to something close to satisfaction.

He's not the kind of director who'd yell "Well done!" on set; he rarely gives actors positive feedback during filming.

He just doesn't yell "cut," letting you keep acting until you feel you've had enough and he feels you haven't, then until you feel you haven't had enough and he feels you've had enough.

……

We finished work an hour later than usual that day.

By the time Dante Lam finished filming the last take, it was already dark.

Gao Huan returned to the hotel, swiped his card to enter, kicked his boots in the entryway, draped his coat over the back of a chair, and walked barefoot into the living room.

He planned to take a shower and then lie in bed to read the script for tomorrow's shoot.

Then he saw the huge gift box.

At the same time, what struck him as odd was that the air conditioning in the room was set very low.

The box, about the height of a person, was placed in the center of the living room. It was wrapped in dark blue wrapping paper and tied with a silver ribbon in a large bow.

There was a card attached to it, unsigned, with only one word written on it: Surprise.

Gao Huan stood there for three seconds, then walked over and untied the ribbon.

The wrapping paper slipped off, revealing the contents inside: a large cardboard box with the lid slightly ajar.

He lifted the lid of the box and saw a clump of long black hair and a pair of bright, sparkling eyes.

Meng Ziyi sat up from the box, braced her hands on the edge of the cardboard box, and looked up at him.

She was wearing a red dress, her hair was loose, and she wore light makeup. There was a thin layer of red under her eyes, as if she had been crying and then wiped it away.

"Brother Huan," she called out to him, her voice soft.

Gao Huan squatted down to look her in the eye.

"Why are you here?"

Meng Ziyi looked at him, her mouth moved as if she wanted to say something, but she didn't say anything.

Her eyes reddened again, and she slowly began to sob, the kind of sobs she had been holding back for a long time but finally couldn't hold back anymore, which gradually turned into a wail.

She reached out, hooked her arms around his neck, and buried her face in the crook of his shoulder.

"You've been ignoring me lately." Her voice was muffled, coming from his shoulder, with a slight nasal tone.

"You only reply with one word when I send you messages, you don't answer my voice calls, and you don't reply when I tell you I'm coming to Bangkok."

Gao Huan remained silent.

His hand rested on her back; he neither pushed her away nor hugged her tightly, he simply placed it there.

"So I didn't tell you, I just bought the plane ticket."

Meng Ziyi raised her head, stepped back a little, and looked into his eyes. "I sent a message to Sister Yangyang right before I boarded the plane. I told her I was coming to Bangkok for tourism and wanted to visit you. I was afraid you wouldn't let me come."

Gao Huan looked at her. Her eyes were still red, with undried tears clinging to her eyelashes, but the corners of her mouth were turned up, giving her an expression that was both wanting to cry and wanting to laugh, like a cat that had done something wrong and was particularly regretful.

"How long have you been hiding in this box?"

"About ten minutes. Sister Yangyang helped me get in. She said you finished work late today. She sent me a message just now when you finished work."

Gao Huan looked at her, and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

Aren't you hot?

Meng Ziyi was stunned for a moment, then looked down at himself.

The red dress clung to her back, a small patch of fabric already soaked with sweat.

She fanned herself with her hand and smiled.

"It seems a little hot."

Gao Huan stood up and reached out his hand to her.

Meng Ziyi grabbed his hand and climbed out of the cardboard box.

After she stopped, she straightened her skirt, then looked up at him with a serious expression.

"Brother Huan, there's something I want to tell you."

Gao Huan walked to the sofa, sat down, and patted the seat next to him.

Meng Ziyi sat down, not leaning against him, but sitting cross-legged facing him, with his hands on his knees, like a primary school student reporting to his teacher.

Do you still remember my first love from high school?

Gao Huan thought for a moment. "I remember."

"He contacted me again recently."

Meng Ziyi said, "He called and texted me, saying he wanted to get back together. He said he was immature back then, but now he's grown up and knows how to cherish things. He said he's never forgotten me all these years."

Gao Huan remained silent.

Meng Ziyi glanced at him, then lowered her head and lowered her voice.

"I answered his calls a few times. I don't actually want to get back together, it's just that... I don't know how to refuse."

He was my first love. We were together in high school, but we broke up, and it was a very messy breakup.

He treated me badly in the past and hurt me.

But now he says he's changed, and that he'll treat me better.

Gao Huan listened quietly without interrupting.

"Later I figured it out."

Meng Ziyi raised his head and looked into his eyes.

"I answered his call not because I still like him."

It's just because I want to confirm one thing—I want to confirm that I no longer have any feelings for him.

I've confirmed it; it's definitely gone now.

She took a deep breath, as if she had made a decision.

"I'm not answering his calls anymore; I've blocked his number."

Meng Ziyi lowered her head, twisting her fingers around the hem of her skirt.

"I just want to tell you that I will not get back together with him."

If I were to go back to an ex, it would only be the ex I went back to with you.

After saying that, she seemed to have used up all her strength, and she lowered her head and remained motionless.

The living room remained quiet for a long time.

Bangkok outside the window is noisier at night than during the day—the sounds of motorcycles, street vendors, and temple bells in the distance.

The sounds came in through the glass window, becoming muffled and distant.

Gao Huan reached out and tucked a strand of hair that was hanging down beside her face behind her ear.

The movement was very light; his fingertips brushed against her earlobe, and the warmth transferred to her ear, causing it to turn slightly red.

"Why do you think I'd go back to an ex?" he asked.

Meng Ziyi raised his head and looked at him.

"Because you used to like me."

Even if you don't like it now, you used to like it.

I don't believe you remember nothing at all.

"I remember."

"Will you still like me in the future?"

Gao Huan did not answer the question.

He looked at her and remained silent for a long time.

Then he did something that surprised Meng Ziyi. He raised his hand and made a sign.

Meng Ziyi couldn't understand it, but judging from his expression, he seemed very serious, not just going through the motions.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Gao Huan lowered his hand and said, "It means, 'The people you care about will not forget you.'"

Meng Ziyi stared at him for two seconds, and then tears suddenly fell from her eyes.

Before she could even react, she reached out and wiped it, then smiled happily.

When did you learn sign language?

"recent."

"For whom?"

Gao Huan looked at her.

What do you think?

Mencius did not answer this question.

She leaned closer, rested her head on his shoulder, and placed her hands on his knees.

Her body was still very hot, whether from the weather or from being trapped in that box for too long, I don’t know.

"Gao Huan."

"Um."

"When I was in the box today, I was thinking, if you come back and don't see me, will you look for me?"

"meeting."

"So what will happen if you find it?"

Gao Huan lowered his head and gently touched the top of her head with his lips.

"That's how it will be."

Mencius closed his eyes, smiled hopefully and longingly, and then licked his lips.

……

That night, Meng Ziyi did not leave.

She took a shower and changed into one of Gao Huan's white T-shirts, with a large neckline.

She put it on, and it slipped down one shoulder, revealing a bit of her collarbone, before pulling it back up. She walked out of the bathroom barefoot, her hair wet and wrapped in a towel. Her makeup was off, and she looked several years younger without it than when she was wearing makeup.

Gao Huan leaned against the headboard, holding a script in his hand, looking at the scene to be filmed tomorrow.

Meng Ziyi walked over, climbed onto the bed, and lay down next to him.

She didn't lean against him, but lay on the bed with her chin resting on her crossed arms, looking at him sideways.

"What are you looking at?"

"script."

"Will tomorrow's scene be difficult?"

"fine."

Meng Ziyi remained silent for a while.

"Brother Huan."

"Um."

"You've been filming all day, are you tired?"

Gao Huan put down the script and glanced at her.

"What are you trying to say?"

Meng Ziyi smiled, a smile that carried a hint of embarrassment mixed with a touch of self-righteousness.

"I wanted to tell you that you must be very tired today and shouldn't be doing anything too strenuous. But since I'm here, you have to stay with me for a while."

Gao Huan looked at her but did not answer.

He placed the script on the bedside table, turned off the main light, and left only the bedside lamp on.

The warm yellow light enveloped the entire room in an ambiguous dimness.

Meng Ziyi rolled over and lay on his back, looking at the ceiling.

"Then you can hold me for a while."

Gao Huan lay down on his side, stretched out his arm, pulled her over the blanket, and hugged her.

She was very light and had a small frame; she curled up in his arms like a cat.

Her hair wasn't completely dry; it smelled of shampoo and had a natural fragrance from being marinated in various skincare products.

She closed her eyes, and her breathing gradually became steady.

From rapid to gentle, from gentle to long.

Her face was buried in his chest, her nose touching his collarbone, her breath warm and moist.

"Brother Huan."

"Um."

"You haven't forgotten me, have you?"

Gao Huan was silent for a moment. "No."

"That's good."

Her voice grew softer and softer, "Then I won't forget you either."

Her breathing became even, and her fingers rested on his chest, slightly curled, like a cat that wouldn't let go of its paws even when asleep.

Gao Huan did not let go.

He remained in that position, motionless, listening to her breathing go from deep to shallow, and from shallow to deep.

Bangkok outside the window was still noisy, motorcycles were still roaring, music was still playing on the streets, and occasionally a dog barked in the distance, but those sounds seemed to have faded away, as if separated by a layer of water.

He lowered his head, resting his chin on the top of her head, and closed his eyes.

……

The next morning, when Gao Huan woke up, Meng Ziyi had already left.

She left a note on the bedside table, written on hotel sticky notes. The handwriting was a little crooked, as if it had been written very quickly.

"Brother Huan, I'm leaving."

I bought an early morning flight ticket; I'll arrive in Beijing this afternoon, and I have class tonight.

Focus on filming and don't get injured.

I'll let you know in advance next time I come, and I'll be looking forward to the surprise you'll give me.

The signature was a smiley face.

Gao Huan looked at the note, remained silent for a moment, then folded it and tucked it into the script.

He washed up, changed his clothes, went downstairs, got into his car, and went to the film set.

Bangkok morning was just like yesterday: hot, humid, and with blinding sunlight.

He sat in the back seat of the car, watching the street scene outside the window recede into the distance, and mentally reviewed the content he needed to film that day.

Yangyang Jin, sitting in the passenger seat, turned around and glanced at him.

"Brother Huan, Meng Ziyi is gone?"

"Um."

"She didn't cause you any trouble yesterday, did she?"

"no."

Yangyang Jin glanced at him but didn't ask any more questions.

The car turned onto the highway along the Mekong River.

Early-rising fishing boats were casting their nets on the river. When the nets were unfurled, they shimmered in the sunlight, like a silver spider web tossed into the sky.

Gao Huan took out his phone and glanced at WeChat.

Meng Ziyi sent a message: "I've arrived at the airport and boarded the plane."

He replied with two words: "Let me know when you arrive."

The other end replied instantly: "Okay."

Then Liu Shishi sent a message: "What are we filming today?"

He replied with two words: "Gunfight."

Then came a message from Nazha: "Is it hot in Bangkok today?"

He replied with two words: "It's hot."

He locked the screen and put his phone in his pocket.

The car stopped at the entrance of the film set, and he opened the car door and got out.

Sunlight streamed in, bringing with it the humid heat and bustle unique to Bangkok.

He walked over to the monitor, where Dante Lam was talking to the cameraman.

He nodded when he saw Gao Huan approaching.

"Is your knee okay from yesterday?"

"fine."

"Today's scene involves climbing over a wall, are your knees up to it?"

Gao Huan looked down at his knee; the scab was still there, but it didn't hurt anymore.

"OK."

Dante Lam looked at him for two seconds, then didn't ask any more questions. "Then get ready."

Gao Huan walked to the center of the set and waited for the staff to coordinate the lighting and camera positions.

He stood there, facing the Bangkok sun, squinting at the Mekong River for a while.

A boat is approaching the shore on the river, and the sailors on board are tying the mooring lines with practiced ease.

He thought he might remember this image.

He will remember the night Meng Ziyi hid in the gift box waiting for him to come back, he will remember the four words on the phone screen when Liu Shishi said "I'm willing too", and he will remember the coolness of Nazha's fingertips when she applied medicine to him.

Not all memories need to be meaningful.

Some memories only need to be remembered, such as the sentiments of certain people.