Chapter 36: Finally, a Picture Together Part 1

After rinsing his mouth and washing his hands, Cui Lin and Li Tingzhou sat facing each other in the private room.

Li Tingzhou looked out; from the window, he could indeed see the Begonia Flower Path outside.

“I ordered all the house specialties. I’m not sure if you’ll like them,” Cui Lin said.

Seated, Cui Lin’s shoulders seemed even broader. The natural light streaming through the window outlined his profile perfectly, the part from his brow bone to his eye sockets appearing particularly deep. His hands were crossed naturally on the table, his expression calm—a complete contrast to the image of the man who had stubbornly insisted on tasting the raw crabapple fruit moments ago.

Li Tingzhou said frankly, “I’ve been here with a friend before. The house specialties are indeed all very good.”

Cui Lin slowed his breathing and asked, almost involuntarily, “Who?”

“My ex-girlfriend.”

He regretted it. Cui Lin truly regretted it now.

He had only remembered this famous old restaurant near Xiangling Road because he had filmed promotional materials there once, and it wasn’t too far from the Heartbreak Studio. The one thing he hadn’t considered was that Mengmeng and his ex-girlfriend had already eaten here. The fact that the dishes were no longer novel or exciting wasn’t the point; the point was the ex-girlfriend!

How long had it been since the breakup? Were you, Li Tingzhou, still thinking about her?

In that instant, Cui Lin felt the astringent taste of the crabapple fruit finally erupt in his mouth.

He inhaled slowly. “Is that so?”

After the dishes were served, the two ate in silence for a while.

Cui Lin rallied his spirits and initiated another attempt at conversation. “About that commercial song incident, I have to apologize to you. I didn’t expect it would cause Mengmeng so much trouble. I’m rather conservative when it comes to relationships, so when I saw those words, I just instinctively… I just couldn’t stand it. I wasn’t deliberately trying to make things difficult for you.”

The song had already been officially recorded and its copyright registered. Li Tingzhou no longer cared about it.

“That’s understandable.”

Though he couldn’t see exactly where this man, whose eyes held a veiled desire, was supposedly conservative.

But if that was what Cui Lin said, then he’d just take him for a truly conservative person.

“Also, I genuinely like Heartbreak’s songs, and I like you, Mengmeng. This admiration doesn’t contain a shred of polite flattery; it’s completely from the heart! Oh, but I need to emphasize one thing: I like the Heartbreak that you joined. I hope you won’t mind that.”

It wasn’t strange; internally, Heartbreak fans were also divided by generation.

Li Tingzhou said casually, “It’s fine. Heartbreak appreciates every bit of love it receives.”

Cui Lin suddenly realized, “What you just said is exactly the same as Heartbreak’s official blog’s auto-reply.”

“Cui Lin, you really do have a lot of questions.”

He wanted to ask everything, wanted to know everything.

He initiated inquiries anytime, anywhere, regardless of whether the other person could keep up.

And that wasn’t all—he always had that look of, “How could you be like this?” Dude, what exactly are you so wistful about?

“Because I really want to get to know you better, and Heartbreak…”

Li Tingzhou had eaten his fill. He put down his chopsticks and looked out the window. The crabapple leaves were lush green, with light green crabapples dotting the branches. Swayed by the wind, they hung there, wobbling adorably, making one momentarily forget their original sour, astringent taste.

He gazed out the window, and Cui Lin gazed at him. Both stared, lost in thought for a moment.

Then Li Tingzhou suddenly turned his head back, meeting Cui Lin’s unretracted gaze.

“Did you fly all the way to J City just to have a meal with me and apologize? Is there nothing else?” It was now Li Tingzhou’s turn to ask questions.

“I didn’t intentionally like that post saying you’d broken up. Sorry again.”

“Oh.”

Seeing his expression remain so indifferent, Cui Lin couldn’t tell if Mengmeng was wounded by the breakup or had already moved past the shadow of lost love. The only thing he could confirm was that, no matter how much mental preparation he’d done on the trip over, no matter how many drafts he’d prepared in his head, right now, at this very moment, Cui Lin simply could not bring himself to offer Mengmeng comfort insincerely.

He felt he was the one more in need of comfort.

“Do you have to go back to work this afternoon?”

“Yeah, I have a lot of things to do. You, on the other hand—being an actor seems to leave you with more free time than I imagined.”

Without the slightest guard against having information extracted, Cui Lin spilled his schedule for the third and fourth quarters.

Seeing Mengmeng’s expression lighten slightly, the melancholy fading into a heart-stirringly relaxed look, he even threw in a summary of his work from the first half of the year. Afraid Mengmeng would find it dull, he peppered it with small pieces of insider gossip that an outsider might find interesting.

“I hate Hu Runzhong’s fake propriety the most. His beard is actually fake.”

The public loved calling Director Hu Runzhong by his nickname, “White Beard,” even more than his full name.

That was because Hu Runzhong had a white braided beard he’d been growing for twenty years.

Li Tingzhou lifted the lid of his after-meal tea, glanced at it, and decided not to drink it. After signaling to Cui Lin to check if he was okay with smoke, he lit a cigarette and held it between his fingers, taking only a shallow puff now and then when he remembered.

He listened attentively, and Cui Lin spoke animatedly.

“His beard is like hair extensions. He adds a bit every year, so the braid gets longer and longer.”

“Did he grow the beard to create a unique image?”

“Maybe that was a consideration in the early years. As a director, you still need to be recognizable. At least, when I saw him as a kid, it was already down to his chest. But later, I heard a master specifically advised him, calculating that he’d face a great calamity in his destined year, fearing he’d lose both wealth and health. This beard braid is actually meant to protect his life and safeguard his fortune.”

Li Tingzhou found this amusing and smiled.

Seeing his smile, Cui Lin smiled too. “You think it’s interesting too?”

“Yeah, that master must have been quite formidable.”

Making someone keep such a long beard braid for twenty years. Whether walking, sitting, or lying down, he’d always have to keep part of his attention on it. That way, it became a conscious habit. And when a person’s energy is focused, they can often avoid accidents. As for saving money, it could be interpreted as the master understanding too well how extravagantly people in the entertainment industry spend. Being a little more frugal in everything, over ten, twenty, thirty years, one could eventually save up a nest egg for retirement.

Li Tingzhou stubbed out his cigarette. Cui Lin realized the meal had come to an end.

He looked a bit lost, apparently unable to snap out of the pleasant conversation.

“Going straight back to work right after eating? Don’t you want to rest a bit?”

There it was again, that seemingly wistful look.

Li Tingzhou couldn’t quite figure him out. “Time is precious. I don’t want to delay.”

Hearing this, Cui Lin made a slightly strange face. He looked happy but not entirely so. “I heard Ying Cong visited the Heartbreak Studio—”

“He came to discuss something with me.”

What business could he possibly have? Cui Lin thought, turning sideways, pushing open the private room door for Li Tingzhou. “Then I also have business. I’m about to join a film crew soon. I want to film some promotional stuff for my fans while I still have time, so they won’t get bored in the future. Can I visit Heartbreak too? Mengmeng, you’ve already written a song for me, and I’ve seen others come by…”

A guest waiting for the elevator glanced over inadvertently. “Hey, is that Cui Lin?”

“Cui Lin, I really like you! Can we take a picture together?”

Having originally wanted to avoid outsiders, Cui Lin was forced to stop. He reflexively declined, “Sorry, I’m eating with a friend right now. It’s not very convenient. Thanks for the support, though.”

Friend?

The other person looked again. Wasn’t the one wearing the hat Mengmeng?

“AHHHHHH! It’s Mengmeng! Can Mengmeng take a picture then?”

As long as it wasn’t intimate physical contact like a hug, or someone forcibly trying to give him a gift, Li Tingzhou rarely refused a fan’s request. He quickly assessed the position, avoiding the aisle and avoiding Cui Lin, who wasn’t convenient to be photographed. He swiftly took a picture with the two women, the entire process lasting no more than 10 seconds.

Cui Lin: …

Damn my mouth, damn this muscle memory!

He could have had a picture together with Mengmeng!

“Mengmeng, how many years have you been driving? You drive so well!”

Successfully in the car, Cui Lin sat in the passenger seat. Inhaling the consistent scent inside Mengmeng’s car, he almost wished he could just blissfully zone out, but he couldn’t afford to enjoy himself; he had to watch the road conditions for Mengmeng.

“Stupid Mulsanne, coming so close. The road is so wide, and you just had to squeeze in on us.”

It was clear Cui Lin was the type to mutter while driving himself. Sitting in Mengmeng’s car, he spontaneously demoted every other car on the road to enemy status, his engagement absolute.

By now, Li Tingzhou could no longer see a trace of a spoiled rich boy in the other man.

If the rearview mirror could reveal true forms, Cui Lin would probably be a clamorous, large dog.

Right on cue, a voice call connected via Bluetooth. “Hello, Mengmeng. If you arrive by 9 p.m., Shiyu is treating everyone to a meal. You absolutely have to give her face. Don’t just stay cooped up in your room alone.”

The caller was Zhou Ling. He truly worried himself sick over the First Sister.