YABE - 17

Because of its unique nature, many students at the Beijing Film Academy often wore masks and sunglasses to conceal their identities. Wen Siyu was used to seeing this.

However, the figure before her now seemed oddly familiar.

Upon closer inspection, the baseball cap he wore was identical to the one she’d seen him wearing two months ago at the supermarket.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t recognized him—it was just that, at this moment, he should have been on set, not here.

While Wen Siyu was lost in thought, the man had already walked over to her.

Jiang Xu stopped in front of her, one hand resting on the handle of her suitcase, leaning slightly forward as his muffled voice came from behind the mask: “Miss Wen, what a coincidence.”

At this point, Wen Siyu could confirm it was him.

The little girl opened her mouth, blinked, and looked up at him with an expression of adorable surprise: “Teacher Jiang?”

Jiang Xu adjusted the brim of his cap, revealing a pair of familiar eyes from beneath the shadow. Wen Siyu caught sight of them and quickly pressed the brim back down with a snap .

Jiang Xu: “….”

The little girl, still pressing down on his cap, glanced around nervously and whispered: “Please don’t lift your hat—what if someone sees you?”

A faint laugh escaped from his throat, sounding genuinely amused for some reason.

He gave a low “Mm,” and through the small gap in his vision, his gaze landed on her legs beneath her white dress. Suddenly, he recalled that same pair of legs—one month ago, they had coiled around his waist like snakes, their texture delicate.

When Jiang Xu spoke again, his voice was hoarse: “You can let go now.”

Wen Siyu snapped out of it and quickly removed her hand from his cap, flustered as she apologized.

The man raised his head to look at her, his gaze darkening slightly.

The little girl’s heart skipped a beat, reflecting inwardly that she might have been a bit rude just now.

—Little did she know, she had already done far ruder things.

She apologized, but Jiang Xu didn’t respond. He gazed at her silently for a moment before shifting his focus to the luggage beside him: “Going home?”

Wen Siyu nodded, then remembered to ask: “Teacher Jiang, why are you here? Did the production take a break?”

Jiang Xu paused briefly, then murmured: “The production is on break—they’ve all gone home.”

Wen Siyu blinked: “Teacher Jiang isn’t going home?”

For a brief moment, the air seemed to freeze.

Wen Siyu immediately regretted asking.

Jiang Xu appeared to stiffen for a second, then slowly relaxed: “Which home?” He chuckled softly, his voice carrying a trace of barely perceptible loneliness. “A place with family can be called home. I haven’t returned home in years.”

His words were light, but the little girl felt a deep pang of sorrow.

Her heart ached—this perfect, outstanding man, it turned out, also had a vulnerable side.

And to think, she had been the one to bring this topic up.

Wen Siyu opened her mouth, closed it again, wanting to say something but finding nothing appropriate—or even possible—to say.

On the other hand, Jiang Xu smiled at her flustered state: “It’s fine—I’m used to it. When I have free time, I come back to my alma mater. It makes me feel calm.” He reached out and patted her head gently. “You should hurry home. Mid-Autumn Festival is a time for family reunions—don’t keep them waiting.” With that, he turned to leave.

But his words only made the little girl feel even worse, guiltier with every passing thought.

Without thinking about whether she was being subjected to another head-pat, Wen Siyu’s body moved before her brain caught up. Without hesitation, she grabbed his wrist.

Jiang Xu, startled, turned back to look at her.

“I’ll keep you company and walk around campus,” the little girl said softly, standing there awkwardly.

Her slender fingers clung to his wrist, her soft skin brushing against his, emitting a subtle warmth.

Yet Jiang Xu felt as though his entire body was about to burn.

Wen Siyu released her grip and lowered her head: “My brother just said on the phone that he’ll be coming home late tonight… Besides, going home early would just be boring…” Her voice grew quieter as she trailed off.

Jiang Xu watched her head droop lower and lower, narrowing his eyes slightly.

“Alright,” he said.

The day before the Mid-Autumn holiday, the campus was nearly deserted. Wen Siyu’s suitcase was only 16 inches, small and light, so she simply dragged it along as she followed Jiang Xu around the school.

Though she did all the talking, Jiang Xu listened quietly.

The two crossed a large expanse of grass and arrived at the entrance of the gymnasium. Wen Siyu glanced at the fully disguised man beside her, thought for a moment, then ran inside with her small suitcase in tow.

This gymnasium was somewhat out of the way, so it was usually quiet. Today, it was completely empty. Jiang Xu sat on a bench next to the basketball court, removing his cap and leaving the mask hanging loosely from one ear.

“When I was studying here, this place used to be crowded,” he said, arms resting on the wooden bench as he leaned back slightly, tilting his head upward to squint at the bright ceiling lights. His tone was flat.

“They built a new gymnasium the year I enrolled,” Wen Siyu said, dragging her suitcase over to sit beside him. “After that, fewer people came here.”

Jiang Xu chuckled: “So it seems I really am quite old.”

The little girl rested her hands on the suitcase handle, propping her head atop it, and began reciting facts she had long since memorized: “Teacher Jiang entered the academy at just 16 through special recruitment. It’s only because you started university too early.”

“Mm,” he muttered, still fixated on the past. “I was in my second year when I watched Eternal Life. “

Wen Siyu was taken aback, lifting her head to look at him just in time to catch a fleeting pout.

“…”

Wen Siyu thought perhaps her eyes were playing tricks on her.

Changing the subject, the two eventually began discussing the short film Wen Siyu was currently working on. After some thought, she decided to seek his advice.

She briefly explained the bottleneck she had encountered during filming. The man listened attentively, pausing for a moment before speaking: “You should understand that the male protagonist has dreams but is worn down by reality. This is a gradual process.” He spoke slowly, as if to make it easier for her to understand. “In this process, he needs to be defeated little by little, step back, and make compromises.”

Wen Siyu understood.

“So, the intense transformation I wanted him to portray—a drastic contrast—is inherently wrong.”

Jiang Xu smiled: “I deliberately phrased it more gently so as not to discourage you.”

Wen Siyu puffed up her cheeks: “Does Teacher Jiang think I can’t handle criticism?”

By now, it was 5 PM. The sun was setting, casting a reddish glow through the glass skylight of the gymnasium. The soft light crawled onto the little girl’s clean profile and soft, long hair. Her plump, pale cheeks shimmered with fine fuzz, and her long lashes were tinged a faint brown.

Jiang Xu’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he averted his gaze. Changing the subject, he asked: “Are you hungry?”

At his reminder, Wen Siyu realized she was indeed feeling a bit peckish.

The two decided to find a restaurant. Jiang Xu stood up and began walking toward the exit. After taking a few steps, he noticed she wasn’t following.

Turning back, he saw the little girl standing there emotionlessly, holding the cap he had casually left on the bench.

Jiang Xu: “….”

He obediently walked back, put on the cap, and reattached the mask, returning to his fully disguised state. Only then did the little girl agree to leave.

Jiang Xu took Wen Siyu to a noodle shop.

The small noodle shop was tucked away in an alley within a residential area, about a 15-minute walk from the school. It was clearly an old establishment, yet impeccably clean. It was dinnertime, and while there were no young people in the shop, it was still bustling. The only available table was a small two-seater tucked in the corner.

Without hesitation, Wen Siyu dragged her suitcase over and sat herself in the inner seat, leaving Jiang Xu to sit facing the wall with his back to the entrance.

Her cautious demeanor struck the man as endearing, and his lips curved into an involuntary smile beneath the mask. Removing his cap and mask, he sat down and spoke calmly: “Don’t worry—around here, celebrities are probably only known as Phoenix Legend.”

Wen Siyu was astonished: “You know about Phoenix Legend?”

“I can even sing ‘Above the Moon,’” Jiang Xu said naturally, handing her the menu. “Take a look and decide what you want.”

Recalling his extraordinary singing skills, Wen Siyu couldn’t help but laugh. She accepted the menu from him and deliberated for a while, tempted by everything on offer.

She frowned slightly, her fingertip resting on her lower lip as she tilted her head: “Teacher Jiang, do you think I should get the spicy beef noodles or the signature shredded chicken noodles?”

Jiang Xu’s gaze followed the movement of her finger, repeatedly landing on her rosy lips. His mind went blank, and he wasn’t thinking at all.

“Their shredded chicken noodles are pretty good,” he heard himself say after a while, his voice sounding off.

Wen Siyu noticed and looked up at him with concern, then ordered a pot of tea for him.

Jiang Xu: “….”

Autumn days were growing shorter, and darkness fell quickly. By the time they finished their meal and stepped outside, it was already past 6 PM. The dim yellow streetlights illuminated the narrow alleys of the old residential area. Wen Siyu turned around, hesitated for a moment, and began: “Teacher Jiang…”

Jiang Xu interrupted before she could finish: “Time to go home?”

The little girl nodded.

Jiang Xu nodded too, his tone calm: “I’ll see you off.”

Wen Siyu nodded halfway, then realized something was amiss. “Eh!” she exclaimed. “But I need to take the high-speed train home…”

Jiang Xu smoothly replied: “Then I’ll accompany you on the train.”

“No!” Wen Siyu quickly rejected him. “I’m afraid the carriage will explode.”

The man fell silent, his thin lips pressing together. He looked slightly hurt.

Wen Siyu panicked again.

She felt that today’s Teacher Jiang was as fragile as a little princess, likely due to the melancholy of spending the Mid-Autumn Festival alone.

Just as the little girl was at a loss for what to do, Jiang Xu spoke: “Let me send you. I happened to drive here.” He paused, letting out a faint sigh. “Besides, going back alone won’t accomplish anything anyway.”

Wen Siyu: “….”

With that, it became hard to refuse.