TBW - 36

Chapter 36: Thunderclap

As Qiao Yusi spoke, her gaze shifted toward Shi Ying. His expression remained indifferent, his eyes lazily watching the television screen, where a middle-aged man was smoking and playing cards in an office with his wife’s friends. There was not a single trace of emotion on his face.

On the other hand, Cheng Simin started to fret. “Then what should we do? My house is empty during the day, but it’s not a single-story house—it’s on the fourth floor, and the rooms are kind of small...”

“Why don’t you all come to my place? We might not be able to barbecue, but I can make longevity noodles for you! I can also whip up a couple of dishes. I’m not great at complicated recipes yet, but my mom says my stir-fried eggs with chili peppers are especially good with rice.”

Qiao Yusi was talking about a grand villa, while Cheng Simin described an old apartment. If it weren’t for the fact that Qiao Yusi knew Cheng Simin was genuinely naïve, she would have lost her temper on the spot.

She paused for a moment, waiting for a slow, uneventful part of the movie before leaning closer again. “Thank you, but I still really want to have a barbecue. Just think about it—our group of friends, under the blue sky and white clouds, grilling skewers, chatting... How nice would that be?”

“Why don’t you help me think of a solution? Maybe one of your classmates has a villa we could borrow for half a day? Otherwise, I’ll have no choice but to take you all to a bar. That place is chaotic, and with so many girls, it’s not very safe.”

“Huh? A villa? But I don’t know anyone who lives in a villa.”

“Are there even any villas left in Banshan?”

Cheng Simin looked even more distressed. On the TV screen, a foot-washing girl and her migrant worker husband were sitting in a messy rental room, affectionately eating frozen dumplings and cold appetizers together. The dimly lit theater was cast in deep and shallow shades of red, as the moonlight shone through the red-painted glass windows, enveloping the restless young men and women in a hazy glow.

Finally, Shi Ying spoke. However, instead of offering his place for the gathering, he simply turned to Cheng Simin and said coldly, “Can you be quiet? Weren’t you here to appreciate art?”

Cheng Simin refocused on the screen, but the next second, she was struck by lightning.

The actress who always played the maid in My Fair Princess suddenly stripped off all her clothes, entangled with her husband like two intertwined snakes in the cramped bathroom.

Shampoo foam slid down the man’s short hair onto his back as the foot-washing girl kissed her husband, making sounds that made the audience blush.

“Damn. Look at that ass.”

“Hahaha, Han Zi, you thirsty?”

“What the hell, it’s only showing the guy. What’s there for me to be thirsty about? They should show the female lead too! I bet she’s pale and curvy.”

“And what would you do even if she was? She’s a celebrity. Just keep looking, it’s not like you can touch her.”

The audience laughed and made crude jokes, their eyes glued to the screen. Apart from Shi Ying and Cheng Simin, everyone else seemed high on adrenaline.

Cheng Simin kept her gaze on the screen too, but instead of enjoyment, she felt a strange sense of both violating someone’s privacy and being violated herself.

Was this really an art film? It wasn’t what she had imagined at all...

Among everyone in the theater, Shi Ying was the only one who had stopped watching from the moment the foot-washing girl picked up a dumpling with her fingers and started eating. He had a natural talent for reading people, so even without formal training in film, he could understand the hidden meanings behind the camera angles and predict what was about to happen.

His gaze remained on Cheng Simin’s face, observing her reaction.

At first, she looked as puzzled as he had expected, her brows furrowing slightly in confusion. Then, her eyes narrowed, and the skin on her nose crinkled—a habitual expression she made when she was displeased.

But what happened next surprised him. Cheng Simin didn’t turn away, didn’t grab his arm in fear, didn’t seek comfort from him.

Perhaps it was because everyone around her was laughing, so she forced herself to relax her expression and laugh along with them.

However, Cheng Simin’s emotional intelligence was lacking, and her ability to mimic body language was poor. Her fake laughter looked even worse than crying.

The intimate scene ended, and Cheng Simin let out a breath of relief. Shi Ying turned back to the screen. But less than ten minutes later, the foot-washing girl, now drunk at work, was pressed down by her predatory middle-aged boss.

Just when things couldn’t get any worse, her migrant worker husband—who was washing windows outside—accidentally witnessed the entire incident through the window.

The tension in the scene was palpable, yet the suggestive visuals continued. The female audience members fell silent, while the male audience members whispered among themselves. Some draped their jackets over their laps, while others hunched over, pretending to cough.

Cheng Simin felt sick to her stomach. Shi Ying handed her a pack of tissues, and she used a sniffle as an excuse to hide her face.

But even if she avoided the explicit images, the film’s oppressive narrative refused to let her go. The foot-washing girl, after being assaulted, tried to seek comfort from her husband in their rental home. She clung to him, desperate for an embrace, only to be met with disgust and rejection.

He cursed her out with cruel words.

The film continued, growing more absurd—so much so that Cheng Simin felt like she was in a dream, watching the chaotic plot unfold in a daze.

The migrant worker blackmailed his boss’s wife for money and ended up sleeping with her instead. The foot-washing girl became pregnant but had no idea who the father was, yet the migrant worker insisted she give birth so they could sell the baby to his boss.

The two men, who once despised each other, sat on the ground, bargaining over the foot-washing girl’s pregnancy and assault like they were haggling over meat in a market.

Then, the scene shifted. The foot-washing girl wandered alone through a crowded street, found an ad for illegal abortions, and walked into a shady clinic, where she witnessed a teenage girl screaming in agony in the operating room.

The movie wasn’t even halfway through, yet Cheng Simin was already restless and anxious. She could barely breathe. She kept inching closer to Shi Ying, until she finally couldn’t take it anymore and whispered, “Hey, how much longer is this movie?”

Seeing her discomfort, Shi Ying took out his phone, checked the time, and deliberately said, “Usually around an hour and a half. We’re only twenty minutes in. At least another hour and ten minutes to go.”

“What?! Oh my god, that long?” Cheng Simin slumped back into her seat, nearly fainting.

The film wasn’t bad, but the portrayal of suffering among the lower class wasn’t something half-grown teenagers could truly appreciate. Some social realities could only be understood years later.

Shi Ying watched the screen for a while, then suddenly leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Cheng Simin, I need to go to the bathroom. The hallway outside doesn’t seem to have any lights.”

Cheng Simin rubbed her ear, tickled by his breath, and tried to recall where the restroom was. She remembered a dark green wooden door with peeling paint, a dusty wall lamp covered in cobwebs—it was eerie enough for Shi Ying to find it unsettling.

So she bent down slightly and whispered to Qiao Yusi, “Sisi, we’ll be back soon. You guys keep watching.”

The two of them slipped out of the theater, one following the other, and turned into the dimly lit hallway. The restroom was on the farthest end of the west side. Cheng Simin took the lead, chattering away about her thoughts on the film.

“You say, why is the storyline of this movie so strange? The female lead might be pregnant with the rapist’s child, right? Why does she have to listen to her husband and insist on giving birth?”

“And that boss’s wife—she knows her husband bullies female employees, so why doesn’t she just divorce him? Plus, her husband is paying to sleep around! If we’re talking about cheating, he’s done it the most and in the filthiest way, yet he still acts all righteous. They’re all sick—everyone in this movie is sick! What a terrible film, it’s making me so mad.”

Yeah, why indeed?

Shi Ying thought: Maybe that’s exactly what the title of the film means. Women see it as love, while men treat it as original sin. When emotions are so unequal, it all ends in a grand tragedy. Genuine happiness is scarce, while twisted souls lurk in the darkness everywhere.

But there was no point in explaining this to Cheng Simin—she wouldn’t understand. Her parents weren’t religious, and her family didn’t own a translated version of the Bible. She had no idea about Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. All of that was just made-up stuff from the past, lacking any real nourishment. Telling her would be meaningless.

As Cheng Simin spoke, she quickened her pace. But before she could go too far, Shi Ying grabbed her wrist near the staircase landing.

When she was pulled back, her steps didn’t stop. Instead, her left hand instinctively tightened, fingers curling downward. With a teasing tone, she turned her head and asked, “Scared? Just hold onto me, then. Grip tighter—no ghosts will get you. I’ll protect you.”

“Pretending again? You’re only a few months older than me, and you dare call yourself my ‘big sister’?” Shi Ying scoffed. He was about to tell her that he hadn’t really needed to use the restroom—he had just wanted to step out for some air. But before he could say anything, Cheng Simin had already firmly clasped his right hand in hers.

The warmth of her rough fingertips brushed against his cold, smooth palm. Different sizes, different textures—two completely contrasting hands found each other in this unfamiliar space. In an instant, their fingers intertwined, forming a perfect curve.

A strange sensation shot through him like an electric current, traveling straight from the point of contact up into his chest.

Outside, a sudden thunderclap ripped through the sky. For a brief moment, the dim hallway lit up before plunging back into darkness, like fireworks fizzling out. The whole world seemed to tremble slightly in sync with the rolling thunder.

On the apple tree inside the boy’s heart, a single green fruit came loose and fell. It was unripe, its skin breaking on impact, spilling sour juice all over him.

Then, the rain came pouring down. The damp wind blew open a hallway window, carrying the earthy scent of wet soil. The restless summer was coming to an end, ushering in the cool breath of autumn.

Shi Ying was still holding Cheng Simin’s hand. The afterimage of her profile lingered on his retinas. And in that instant, he was suddenly terrified by the conclusion forming in his heart.

So this is what it was. So this whole time, the reason his emotions had been so unstable wasn’t because of so-called friendship.

The answer to his unsolved mystery had been right in front of him all along. He had just been too foolish to realize it.

Maybe what he truly wanted was to end his friendship with Cheng Simin—because that simple kind of relationship had already overflowed into something else entirely.

In the end, he was just another ordinary, flawed human being.

“Cheng Simin.” Fighting against the storm rising in his chest, Shi Ying’s voice trembled as he called her name.

Cheng Simin turned her head. In the darkness, she could only see his silhouette. Still grinning playfully, she said, “What’s wrong? You’re so scared you can’t even move? Want me to carry you? Or what, do you need me to hold it for you when you pee?”

“Come on, you’re a grown man—aren’t you embarrassed?”

She let go of his right hand and crouched down slightly, pretending she was about to carry him. But before her lowered wrist could fall too far, Shi Ying caught it again.

This time, she could sense that something was off.

Because Shi Ying, for the first time ever, was speaking to her with a tone of complete seriousness.

“From now on, can you stop hanging out with these people?”

“Not just them.”

Shi Ying took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice. But his own heartbeat was so loud, it drowned everything else out. He couldn’t even hear himself speak. Instead of calming down, he only grew more restless, until he found himself almost shouting—

“What I mean is, Cheng Simin, starting right now—can you only be friends with me?”