The day he woke up in Cannes, the weather was overcast.
Ruan Qiuji sat at the round table on the balcony, watching the dark clouds on the horizon while eating breakfast. The popular starlet staying with him had woken up late; she came over in her dressing gown and draped her arms around his neck, pouting as she reproached him for not waking her. Ruan Qiuji picked up his glass to drink, his eyes fixed on the tablecloth. He didn't say a word until he set the glass back down. Guan Chengzhu asked him when he was leaving, and only then did Ruan Qiuji ask, "What about you?"
"The brand brought me here. I have to leave tomorrow. Or would you prefer I stay to keep you company?"
Ruan Qiuji gave her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek as a response. Seeing that he seemed to be in a decent mood, Guan Chengzhu subtly probed him about whether the lead for a certain movie had been decided yet. Ruan Qiuji found the conversation tedious; with a half-smile, he tossed his napkin aside. Guan Chengzhu arched an eyebrow and silently picked up an egg to peel.
Perhaps the novelty had worn off. In the quiet of the morning, Ruan Qiuji suddenly realized he no longer liked her—and she certainly didn't love him. In the silence, the person across from him seemed to have a premonition; her movements faltered for a moment, but she ultimately acted as if nothing were wrong, placing the peeled egg on the plate in front of her.
On the first day, Guan Chengzhu had to walk the red carpet for the opening ceremony and attend various brand interviews. That evening, Ruan Qiuji waited for her at a reserved restaurant. Many film industry people came here to dine; because the tables were close together, Ruan Qiuji could even hear the loud voice of a German director nearby, recounting amusing anecdotes from the morning’s red carpet.
Ruan Qiuji had been playing with his phone, but now he tilted his head slightly. He heard them mention a Chinese film crew that had nearly been late; it had started raining just as they arrived, and the organizers had prepared umbrellas for the guests. As luck would have it, a moment later, Ruan Qiuji scrolled past a red carpet photo of that very crew on Twitter. In the photo, a young man in a white suit stood in the rain, his back to the camera as he ascended the steps. He seemed to hear someone calling him and was just about to turn his head.
His finger continued to scroll down, nearly reaching a photo of the man's face, when Guan Chengzhu appeared out of nowhere and sat across from him, asking if he’d waited long. Ruan Qiuji looked up, saw her smiling at him, and exited Twitter, setting his phone on the table. He didn't realize then that it was the first time he had ever seen Qi Bailu—in a photograph, as a silhouette from behind.
The following afternoon, they bought tickets for the *Un Certain Regard* section to see the Cannes premiere of *Dewy Night Run*. Before entering the theater, Ruan Qiuji saw the poster on the wall; it featured only a profile of the male lead. He gave it a cursory glance before following Guan Chengzhu inside to find their seats. As the movie was about to start, Guan Chengzhu whispered to him, "That's the director. She's so young, and beautiful too."
Ruan Qiuji looked toward the third row as she indicated and saw the legendary Lin Yuewei. She was indeed very young, wearing no makeup except for lipstick, her hair a mass of loose curls. A moment later, Lin Yuewei turned to speak to the person in the seat next to her. Their posture was intimate. The person beside her had long hair; from the back, it was impossible to tell if they were male or female. A vague memory of that red carpet photo flashed through Ruan Qiuji's mind, but he didn't give it much thought.
But when the lights dimmed and the opening credits flickered across the screen, the young man from the film finally appeared. He walked alone through a stale, dim corridor with his head bowed. The camera pushed forward relentlessly until a door was suddenly thrown open, and dim yellow light spilled out—just as he looked up, his name appeared in the bottom right corner of the screen: Qi Bailu.
Ruan Qiuji lowered his propped arm and stared straight at that face. In the darkness, someone gasped. The rest of the audience seemed to startle awake; like wind blowing across a lake to create ripples, a small commotion stirred within the theater. Even Guan Chengzhu’s eyes widened in surprise.
The actor's beauty was certainly the cause for the gasps, but the cinematography, lighting, and makeup were the crowning touches, making it difficult to discern his gender for a moment.
Ruan Qiuji hadn't been back to China in a year and didn't know when such a figure had emerged in the entertainment industry. He looked very young—likely not even twenty when he filmed this—and his eyes looked clean yet fragile. Ruan Qiuji knew his own mind all too well: he wanted to meet this person.
However, when the movie ended and he looked for the person in the third row again, he only saw two empty seats under the house lights. Lin Yuewei and the person beside her had left early. Guan Chengzhu didn't seem surprised. "I've always heard his health is poor. It seems it's true."
Ruan Qiuji glanced at her. Guan Chengzhu added, "Just hearsay."
Guan Chengzhu’s hearsay was accurate. Qi Bailu had indeed canceled several events due to illness. Over the next few days, Ruan Qiuji also learned that Qi Bailu was staying in the same hotel as him. Yet, they never once happened to run into each other.
Perhaps they had brushed past each other on opposite sides of a rose hedge in the garden; perhaps a closing elevator door had blocked their converging gazes; perhaps the music he heard while smoking on his balcony was a record Qi Bailu was playing next door; perhaps while he napped on the beach, Qi Bailu had walked past him with a companion eating ice cream; perhaps they had missed each other at a corner in the museum on the Promenade de la Croisette.
They were always just a fraction away. Ruan Qiuji wondered about the nature of fate; their meeting was always just a hair's breadth short.
Though he kept the name in mind, the memory gradually faded after he returned to Los Angeles. But he vividly remembered every frown and smile Qi Bailu had displayed in the film. Ruan Qiuji thought that perhaps what he liked was merely that image on the screen.
It wasn't until much later, at a charity gala in Beijing, that he accidentally left his cigarette case in the lounge and remembered to go back for it halfway through the event. He pushed open the lounge door and saw the person standing by the window suddenly turn around.
Ruan Qiuji thought this was a meeting ordained by heaven—until he saw Zheng Kunyu sitting beside him. The look in Zheng Kunyu’s eyes made him realize the unusual nature of their relationship. He wanted to tease him, so he snatched away the music box the other man wanted to bid on, which quickly drew Zheng Kunyu’s attention. Zheng Kunyu seemed ready to pick up his bidding paddle, but Qi Bailu pressed his hand down to stop him.
Even if they hadn't met in the private box later, even if he hadn't seen him kissing Zheng Kunyu, Ruan Qiuji would have known his secret. He had thought Qi Bailu was a Narcissus of peerless purity, only to find he might be like everyone else—vain, indulgent, and shameless, living by selling his body. Perhaps he didn't even understand the word "dignity"; perhaps with a crook of Ruan's finger, he would betray Zheng Kunyu and throw himself into Ruan's arms.
If he were that kind of person, it might have been interesting. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to be.
Qi Bailu was more like a willful child. Zheng Kunyu had spoiled him, allowing him to ignore the rules of the industry, but at the same time, a child would always be firmly controlled by his guardian. Ruan Qiuji was surprised that Zheng Kunyu was willing to expend so much effort; as far as he knew, Zheng Kunyu’s methods with those around him were never gentle. He assumed Qi Bailu was just another victim.
He visited the film set, watched him sing, took him ice skating, and even gave him the music box. As they lay on the vast, empty ice, Qi Bailu inadvertently showed him a glimmer of trust. Ruan Qiuji harbored extremely complex emotions toward Qi Bailu: he pitied him, despised him, admired him, and uncontrollably liked him.
Because of that bit of liking, that self-righteous sincerity, he extended an olive branch to Qi Bailu. Ridiculously, Qi Bailu refused to leave Zheng Kunyu.
For the first time in his life, Ruan Qiuji was rejected. Still, he maintained his gentlemanly poise and respected Qi Bailu’s decision. That day, as he drove away from the studio and slammed on his brakes at a red light, he realized his palms were drenched in sweat. The rain had stopped. He rolled down the window to let the night breeze in, his racing heart reminding him that he was still thinking of Qi Bailu.
To give up now felt like a bit of a waste.
Besides, Zheng Kunyu didn't love Qi Bailu at all, and Qi Bailu didn't love Zheng Kunyu—or so he thought. Even if Qi Bailu was truly possessed, as long as Zheng Kunyu’s true face was exposed to the world, the man would have nowhere left to stand.
The drivers waiting behind him grew impatient. Ruan Qiuji glanced at the green light and continued driving. He felt as though he was overlooking something important, but he couldn't recall it at the moment.
If it hadn't been for a detail Chen Xiangfeng mentioned later, he might never have remembered. Chen Xiangfeng sat in the chair opposite him, murmuring about how Zheng Kunyu had once treated him. As Ruan studied Chen Xiangfeng’s face, he realized the man bore a slight resemblance to Qi Bailu—or rather, Zheng Kunyu simply liked this type: someone who looked like a beautiful, fragile piece of art.
Ruan Qiuji had seen Chen Xiangfeng when he first debuted. They had gone to play ball, and Chen Xiangfeng had followed Zheng Kunyu step for step, speaking in a soft, thin voice, shy and gentle. If Zheng Kunyu said "one," he would never say "two." Zheng Kunyu looked down on his timid manner and wasn't very kind to him; Chen would only smile in response. Zheng Kunyu didn't like his smile, so his smiles gradually became rarer.
When Ruan Qiuji saw him again six months later, Chen Xiangfeng was almost a different person. He had shed his restraint and gained the aura of a star, becoming sophisticated and socially adept. But the changes time left on him weren't all positive. Another six months later, Ruan Qiuji heard they had broken up; Zheng Kunyu had fallen for a student at the film academy and abandoned Chen Xiangfeng.
Now, that once high-spirited man was completely transformed. Ruan Qiuji looked at Chen Xiangfeng’s despondent face and said, "You mean, Qi Bailu has never touched drugs."
Chen Xiangfeng suddenly burst into laughter, laughing for a long time without stopping. "So you're doing this for him? You too!" Chen Xiangfeng laughed until he was nearly out of breath while Ruan Qiuji watched him act like a madman.
Finally, he told him everything. He said there was nothing on Qi Bailu’s arm except for a scar. He even said in a mocking tone that Ruan Qiuji had better watch out for that "femme fatale," or he’d end up just like Zheng Kunyu—completely ruined.
Similar origins, similar beauty, yet they had walked toward completely different ends. Ruan Qiuji didn't pity him, and he never met with him privately again. He saw that the man was insane, desperate to bite the ankles of those on the shore and drag them all into the depths with him.
He finally understood the truth about the scar on Qi Bailu’s arm. Two years ago, when he was leaving Beijing, he had invited Zheng Kunyu out for a meal. He later heard that the male student Zheng Kunyu liked had attempted suicide on that very day.
Ruan Qiuji hadn't expected their fates to be interlocked in such a strange way. A butterfly's casual flap of wings had caused a storm years later.
Everything proceeded according to Ruan Qiuji's plan, but in Tahiti, it all collapsed overnight. Qi Bailu told him they had decided to get married.
Ruan Qiuji had never heard anything so ridiculous. Marriage? Zheng Kunyu had actually decided to get married? Did a man like that even know the meaning of "unwavering loyalty"? He thought Qi Bailu was crazy—they were all crazy. He was certain Qi Bailu would regret it; Qi Bailu had no idea what kind of person he had chosen. People always paid a price for their choices.
the coconut vendor handed him a shaved coconut. He took it, and they walked back from the sun. He saw the rings on their hands. Ruan Qiuji felt that he, too, was being ridiculous.
That afternoon, they went swimming at the beach, finding a stretch of sand with fewer people. Lin Yuewei got tired of swimming and wanted to change clothes; Ruan Qiuji accompanied her. When they returned, they saw Qi Bailu and Zheng Kunyu kissing on the beach. To be precise, Qi Bailu seemed to be the initiator. Zheng Kunyu had one hand on his bare back, looking at him with total focus. At one point, Qi Bailu stopped to say something, and Zheng Kunyu actually laughed. Then they kissed again.
Neither of them looked toward them. Lin Yuewei shook her head at Ruan Qiuji and said helplessly, "Let's wait a bit before going over."
So he went to the bar with Lin Yuewei. The two Orange Blossom cocktails she ordered arrived, looking just like orange juice. The cocktails were sweet—so sweet one might think they couldn't get drunk from them. Lin Yuewei watched him drink glass after glass and guessed some of the reasons. She said, "Don't drink too much. We still have dinner later."
Ruan Qiuji knew Lin Yuewei was afraid he would cause a scene if he got drunk. His posture remained dignified, but his every movement was tinged with intoxication. The bartender hesitated as he picked up a glass, unsure whether to hand it to Ruan Qiuji. Ruan Qiuji smiled as he took it, invited the lady beside him to drink first, and then took another for himself. Lin Yuewei was forced to clink glasses with him. A moment later, Ruan Qiuji tossed the drained glass onto the bar and walked out.
Ruan Qiuji remained silent, and Lin Yuewei couldn't be sure what he was thinking. They didn't go far, sitting down in the swing chairs outside the bar. After a while, Lin Yuewei looked at the sunset over the sea and said, "Let's go back."
"He doesn't love me."
Ruan Qiuji spoke coldly, his eyes fixed on the pink and purple clouds of the dusk. Lin Yuewei didn't know if this was drunken talk. Perhaps it was just drunken talk.
*He doesn't love me, so he shouldn't be allowed to love Zheng Kunyu either.* Holding this cruel thought, Ruan Qiuji led them step by step toward mutual misunderstanding and hatred. But Qi Bailu actually came to beg him—begging him to grant them a way out. He was only one step away from the end of the story; letting Zheng Kunyu go was simply impossible. Next, Qi Bailu would watch with his own eyes as Zheng Kunyu lost his pride and dignity, watching him fall into the mire and realizing that choosing Zheng Kunyu had been an absolute mistake.
The more lost and desperate Qi Bailu became, the more sweetness Ruan tasted from his lips. A vengeful pleasure overrode everything. Until Zheng Kunyu made that phone call, Ruan Qiuji hadn't regretted a thing. He pushed open the door and walked over; Qi Bailu lunged forward and hugged him tightly, his fingers clutching Ruan's collar with force. Ruan Qiuji had never seen anyone shed so many tears. He tried to wipe Qi Bailu’s face, but the tears were endless. Qi Bailu’s sobbing was almost heart-wrenching. Finally, Qi Bailu cried until he was exhausted, his arms draped weakly over Ruan, whispering "Zheng Kunyu" twice in a low voice.
There was no more Zheng Kunyu. Never again. But it didn't matter; he would stay with him from now on.
Ruan Qiuji felt a pang of sadness, unable to tell if his pain came from jealousy or loss. He leaned down to find Qi Bailu’s lips, kissing him with a fierce intensity, and said, "Bailu, forget him."
But Ruan Qiuji knew Qi Bailu so well; how could he not have expected that he was never a submissive person? Zheng Kunyu had exposed his past, as if suddenly severing all his lingering worries, making him bold enough to set a fire and leave without looking back.
The police officer investigating Zheng Kunyu’s case was an old acquaintance of Ruan Qiuji’s, so Ruan was able to enter that apartment. He walked onto the balcony and saw the flowers that were about to wither, shriveled rose petals scattered across the floor. The summer heat was at its peak, yet looking out, the entire city seemed lonely and desolate. Ruan Qiuji stood in the bright sunlight and lit a cigarette, imagining Zheng Kunyu’s emotions as he stood there.
The apartment had been vacant for a long time, the furnishings still as they were three years ago. However, an outsider wouldn't be able to tell that Qi Bailu had lived there. Ruan Qiuji found an ashtray to stub out his cigarette and saw two types of cigarette butts inside: one was the Yunyan brand that Zheng Kunyu often smoked, and the other was the menthol cigarettes Qi Bailu preferred. Both were covered in dust. He faltered for a moment before dropping his own cigarette butt inside.
He took nothing with him, except for the DV camera in the safe. The DV had been dropped once, but only a corner of the outer casing was chipped.
*Forget it,* Ruan Qiuji told himself. *Why be a witness to someone else's love?*
He went about his work and social engagements as if nothing were wrong, acting as though he had never met Qi Bailu. One day, after drinking, Pan Xiaoyan stuffed a room card into his pocket, saying it was a gift guaranteed to be unforgettable. He smiled and said nothing. Pan Xiaoyan called out the name of a hotel to his driver and patted his shoulder, signaling it was time to go. Ruan Qiuji threw himself into the back seat, tacitly allowing the driver to take him to the hotel. But once they arrived, he never got out of the car.
The driver thought he had fallen asleep, but looking in the rearview mirror, he saw Ruan Qiuji staring out the window, perfectly awake. The driver asked if he wasn't going up. Ruan Qiuji said, "Let's go."
"Home?"
Ruan Qiuji was silent for a few seconds before giving him an address in the neighboring district.
It was a bit far, a twenty-minute drive. It was the driver's first time there, and he wasn't familiar with the streets, nearly hitting a car at the entrance of the residential complex. Ruan Qiuji told him to park by the curb.
The car was parked under the shade of the trees. It was evening, and many people were returning from work; the children were already on summer break and out playing together. The driver didn't understand why his boss would come to a place like this, especially since they had been parked for half an hour doing nothing.
Ruan Qiuji hadn't expected to actually see him. After waiting for a long time, like a magician's trick, Qi Bailu suddenly walked straight over from across the street. He wore a baseball cap, a plain T-shirt, and sneakers, looking just like a college student, yet Ruan Qiuji recognized him at a glance. Qi Bailu crossed the road with his head down, holding a McDonald's paper bag, and stopped at a fruit stall by the complex entrance to buy a pound of apples.
After he entered the complex, Ruan Qiuji followed him.
Qi Bailu wandered over to the artificial lake in the complex and sat on a bench to eat his burger. There were a few geese swimming in the lake; two of them waddled ashore and came to Qi Bailu’s feet. Qi Bailu looked at them, and they looked up at him. Qi Bailu tossed them some breadcrumbs.
After finishing his burger, Qi Bailu sat there for a long time, leaning against the back of the bench as if simply dazing out. The light faded minute by minute until dusk settled, yet Qi Bailu didn't move, looking almost as if he had fallen asleep.
Ruan Qiuji didn't disturb him. But not long after that, Qi Bailu moved for a second time. Qi Bailu was extremely alert; once he realized there were paparazzi or unidentified people around, he would quickly change his address. Ruan Qiuji found it difficult to see him even once, so he paid a high price to hire an entertainment reporter to follow him. After five months of tailing, the reporter found it strange—what was there to photograph about a washed-up actor? Besides, Qi Bailu’s private life was incredibly dull. By the end of the year, the only thing he’d captured was Qi Bailu going out to buy a large quantity of frozen dumplings.
Still, as long as there was money to be made, the reporter was happy to do the job. If Qi Bailu hadn't walked straight up to him and demanded to know who he was and what he wanted, he might have continued.
Thus, Ruan Qiuji temporarily stopped the surveillance. He knew that continuing would only arouse Qi Bailu’s suspicion and resentment. During those long two years, he waited and waited, until his heart gradually grew cold. How could Qi Bailu be so stubborn—so stubborn that he refused to look back at him even once?
Perhaps this was how they would be for the rest of their lives, with Qi Bailu forever living off those few memories of the past. Once he thought about how Qi Bailu was living such a compromised life all for the sake of Zheng Kunyu, Ruan Qiuji suddenly hated him.
When the hatred grew too much, it slowly turned into a numb indifference, and he forced himself to withdraw even the hate.
But just as he was about to give up on him, he appeared before him again as if falling from the sky. Qi Bailu feigned ignorance, so Ruan Qiuji played along. He continued to be clingy and ambiguous, and Ruan Qiuji refused to yield a single step. Would they miss each other again this time?
No.
Never again.
***
