After the Divorce, the Whole World is Waiting for Us to Get Back Together - Chapter 40

Chapter 40

If the winter sun is a lazy employee who always arrives late and leaves early, the summer sun is a “workaholic”. It hangs in the sky like a white-hot orb, making the streetlights—which click on at a fixed time in the evening—feel redundant.

Those bright lights shone with a blurry white glow amidst the slowly moving traffic, casting a hazy aura over the surrounding leaves.

Inside the car, Cheng Xi watched Meng Zhijin as she explained the meaning of “Qian Cheng Si Jin.” Her gaze was obscure beneath her crumbling rationality. Meng Zhijin’s words made it clear that she knew about their “CP name.” It even gave Cheng Xi the illusion that Meng Zhijin understood it better than she did.

The naming of the velvet flower earlier had been intentional. The master had mentioned that velvet flowers were beloved by the nobility of the past because they were a homophone for “glory and wealth”.

Velvet Flower. Glory and Wealth.

The flower’s deep meaning intertwined with Meng Zhijin’s words. It seemed a bit forced when spoken aloud, yet it wasn’t entirely unrelated. When the master first showed them the craft, he had introduced its history. Meng Zhijin, who was far more upright and attentive than herself, couldn’t have missed it.

Cameras always have a way of blurring some things while magnifying others.

Cheng Xi didn’t know how to describe her current mood. It was like a pool of water she had tried desperately to hold down; she could no longer pretend it was dead and still. Under the slight jolting of the car, it began to surge. She hadn’t felt this way in a long time. In fact, she rarely let anyone truly affect her emotions anymore.

It was as if rain was falling on parched, barren land. Following this reunion with Meng Zhijin, it continuously soaked through her numb perceptions. This feeling was the same as in the past. It seemed that from beginning to end, the only person who could truly enter Cheng Xi’s heart was Meng Zhijin.

The streetlights and the sun coincided in the car window, overlapping to create a brightness that shouldn’t belong to the evening. Cheng Xi felt that Meng Zhijin was still the same as before, yet different. She was still that radiant person, more dazzling than the sun outside, the object of everyone’s flattery and pursuit.

Yet, she didn’t seem entirely like her past self. Her usual coldness was now tainted with a “give-an-inch-take-a-mile” cunning. She had learned a streak of mischief from somewhere, constantly taking advantage of the cameras to flirt uninhibitedly.

Negative evaluations were listed one by one in Cheng Xi’s heart like evidence of a crime. Yet, they couldn’t hide one thing: “Honesty.”

Meng Zhijin said she could be the ladder for Cheng Xi to climb. She said she wanted Cheng Xi to get what she wanted and achieve what she aimed for. Every goal she had, she stated without concealment, repeating and rephrasing them in different ways.

As this person changed, the “box” of the past cracked open again, and memories struggled to pour out.

The night was silent. Dark clouds covered the moon, and the sky was as black as ink. Not even the dimmest star was allowed space. The wind sat heavy on the ground, swallowed by wet soil.

Cheng Xi couldn’t quite remember where she had been standing then, only that a fire was burning in her head: “Do you know the phrase I hate most in this world? It’s ‘I’m doing this for your own good.’ Everyone uses that phrase to strip me of my right to choose!”

The lights of the villa were blinding. She had stared straight at Meng Zhijin against that glare. Her voice was full of resentment, but beneath her questioning gaze was a wet trail: “Why is it that now, even you…”

No silence could compare to that night. Not even the excessive quiet currently inside the car.

Up ahead, a traffic officer seemed to have arrived at the intersection, and the stop-and-go flow began to smooth out. Cheng Xi watched the sun separate from the streetlight. The burning light fell into her eyes, but her dark pupils were far from clear.

Does she still remember? Is that why she insisted on making things clear to me from the very start? Is it really that important to her that I get what I want most? …Am I really that important to her?

The sun was already high in the sky early the next morning. However, since the “Dog Days” of summer hadn’t fully arrived, it wasn’t yet unbearably hot.

The production van avoided the morning rush hour, driving along a road with light traffic. It cleared an intersection just before the green light ended, heading toward a tunnel not far away. Despite the rows of bright lights inside, the tunnel couldn’t hide its inherent darkness.

The car window became a mirror, reflecting Cheng Xi’s face as she leaned against it. At certain angles under the tunnel lights, the dark circles hidden by concealer were visible.

Cheng Xi had dreamed again last night—dreams filled with the past. She had dreamed of those replayed memories countless times, but this time they were particularly bothersome. Perhaps it was because when she woke up, the person sleeping nearby was the one who had left her long ago.

“…”

Unaware of the camera for a moment, Cheng Xi let out a sigh.

“What’s wrong?” Meng Zhijin asked, hearing her.

Cheng Xi turned to look at her. Perhaps because the cameras were rolling, she felt more natural facing Meng Zhijin now than she had when she first woke up.

As the tunnel lights flashed past one by one, Cheng Xi hid her true worries. She shook the three one-yuan coins in her hand and sighed, “538 yuan…”

Since the cast had predicted the production team’s schemes on the first night, the initial funds for the eight people had been guarded safely in their wallets. Cheng Xi and Meng Zhijin had come out on top across the three missions, becoming the undisputed winners of this episode and earning a “Romantic Trip to the Amusement Park.”

However, their budget consisted only of the 500 yuan they drew at the start plus the points earned over the two days—a total of 538 yuan. Beneath the “romance” was a visible “budget trip.”

“Teacher Meng, are we mainly going to play or mainly going to eat?” Cheng Xi asked.

Meng Zhijin didn’t decide, handing the choice back to her: “What about you?”

Most people go to amusement parks to play, so the fact that Cheng Xi even asked showed what was on her mind. She hesitated, then said, “Actually, I really want to try the snacks in several theme areas. When it opened last month, I saw so many videos. Do you know how many domestic IP anime have theme restaurants and limited merchandise there?”

When talking about things she was interested in, Cheng Xi couldn’t hide her thoughts. Her fox-like eyes lost their cunning, replaced by a childish, blunt excitement.

Meng Zhijin saw this clearly and nodded. “Then let’s walk and eat. You mentioned some IPs have dedicated theme areas? If you want to play later, we can do the attractions there and visit the theme shops.”

Satisfied, Cheng Xi’s eyes crinkled. She said playfully, “Teacher Meng, you’ve agreed so easily. Don’t find it childish later, okay?”

“I won’t,” Meng Zhijin replied.

She watched Cheng Xi play with the coins and added, “Kid.”

The amusement park was in the southern suburbs, less than an hour’s drive from the city center. It was a weekday, and the two of them weren’t dressed too conspicuously. Wearing masks, they looked like any other young couple at the park, if one ignored the two following PDs carrying heavy equipment.

However, in recent years, many vloggers have brought teams to scenic spots like amusement parks, so regular tourists weren’t too shocked. Furthermore, Meng Zhijin and Cheng Xi knew their “CP” was currently hot property. To avoid unnecessary commotion, their itinerary was highly confidential. Not even their “Big Fans” knew, so there were no crowds of fans chasing them to witness the chemistry in person.

“This place looks pretty good. Those videos didn’t lie,” Cheng Xi remarked, looking at the expensive entrance landscape.

“Where to first?” Meng Zhijin took a map from the ticket booth, looking at the dense network of routes.

“Here!” Cheng Xi answered sharply, her slender finger pointing instantly to the map in Meng Zhijin’s hands.

In truth, Cheng Xi had done her research long ago—where she wanted to go and where to rush first. Numbness can indeed hold a person back; Cheng Xi had made a plan back then, but… there was no “afterwards.”

Now that she was finally going to fulfill her old plan, her steps were much quicker than usual. Her high ponytail swayed with her pace, radiating vitality on camera. Meng Zhijin followed slightly behind, her eyes—like the cameras—never leaving Cheng Xi.

Cheng Xi was a star, and stars are meant to shine. But her night sky had too many clouds; the starlight only appeared for a moment in the gaps between them before being hidden again.

And what Meng Zhijin wanted to do was become the wind. To become the wind that could disperse the clouds, no matter how thick they were.

According to plan, they soon arrived at the theme area Cheng Xi had targeted. They were in luck; just as they reached the entrance, they ran into Cheng Xi’s favorite black cat mascot “starting its shift.”

Seeing this, Cheng Xi quickly handed the production team’s Polaroid to Meng Zhijin and walked over to the cat. “Teacher Meng, help me take a photo.”

“Okay,” Meng Zhijin agreed, lifting the Polaroid to her eye. While she wasn’t great with electronics, she knew how to use this retro camera.

Perhaps really finding a bit of that past feeling, Cheng Xi leaned against the cat—which was twice her size—with a free-spirited smile. Meng Zhijin watched her through the lens and pressed the shutter at the perfect angle of sunlight.

The white film soon popped out from the top. Cheng Xi watched Meng Zhijin take the film, said a friendly goodbye to the cat, and hurried over.

Developing the photo took time. While waiting, Cheng Xi unconsciously stood side-by-side with Meng Zhijin. A breeze blew, and Meng Zhijin’s long hair fell onto Cheng Xi’s shoulder, lightly tangling with her own half-loose hair. It was a subtle, uninhibited ambiguity of being extremely close under the camera’s gaze.

Finally, the image fully appeared.

Looking at the photo, Cheng Xi couldn’t help but exclaim, “Wow, it looks so good.”

As if admiring it alone wasn’t enough, she turned with smiling eyes to the following PD and his camera. “Does it look good?”

Compared to Meng Zhijin’s shirt buttoned to the very top, Cheng Xi was dressed quite coolly today. She wore a tight red camisole with light blue ripped jeans. The overexposed sunlight made the exposed skin below her collarbone look as white and soft as fresh snow. Her wavy hair was lifted slightly by the breeze; her red lips looked bold yet not gaudy. Standing with the black cat, she had a charming “Big Sister” (Mature/Cool) contrast.

The PD was a newcomer. Looking at the photo Cheng Xi was showing him through the lens, his heart skipped a beat. Feeling shy, he hid behind the camera and nodded it up and down as an answer.

Cheng Xi was satisfied with the answer and went back to admiring the photo. As she looked, a thought occurred to her. Her eyes crinkled further, and she turned to Meng Zhijin with mischief hidden in her eyes, teasing her narcissistically:

“Teacher Meng is so good at finding angles the first time she takes a photo of me. It might make me misunderstand and think Teacher Meng peeks at me often.”

Upon hearing this, Meng Zhijin gave an unreadable “Mhm.”

Then, she moved her gaze from the photo in Cheng Xi’s hand to Cheng Xi’s face. In a faint, calm voice, she said:

“It’s not a misunderstanding.”

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