After the Divorce, the Whole World is Waiting for Us to Get Back Together - Chapter 41

Chapter 41

“It’s not a misunderstanding.”

Those simple words fell clearly into the lapel microphone of Meng Zhijin’s collar. Even amidst the noisy outdoor environment, they were heard with startling clarity.

The sun gradually climbed to its zenith, blazing down. Perhaps because the words had already been spoken, there was no longer a need for concealment—or perhaps it was simply necessary to maintain the image of an intimate couple for the cameras. As Meng Zhijin spoke, she looked at Cheng Xi without reservation, her gaze more piercing than the sun itself.

Cheng Xi’s heart missed a beat, followed by an uncontrollable pounding. It was like a deer that had nearly drowned at the water’s edge suddenly springing to life, frantically kicking at her ribs.

Yet, more than the dizziness brought by this imbalance, Cheng Xi was afraid of falling in love again. Afraid of falling in love in a situation that was entirely inappropriate.

The following PD panned the camera, capturing the two of them from different angles. The black machinery felt heavy and oppressive in the summer heat. Within the context provided by the camera, they conversed with ambiguity and intimacy. Their words were like the songs of sirens sitting on rocks in the deep sea; lost souls are most easily misled by such things, making incorrect choices.

Cheng Xi’s eyelashes fluttered as she lowered her gaze, pressing down that resurrected “deer” and adopting a tone of lighthearted teasing. “I didn’t expect Teacher Meng to have a habit of peeking. That’s not very polite, you know.”

The group didn’t linger at the entrance for long and soon entered the park.

Passing through a bustling, shaded path, they saw a queue for an attraction in the distance. In a weekday amusement park with relatively few people, this line was quite prominent. Cheng Xi’s gaze naturally drifted toward it.

From afar, she could see a promotional stand above the ticket booth featuring a black and a white cat. The background was the classic battle scene from the anime, featuring a winding, spiraling ride designed to look like bamboo.

Cheng Xi recognized it instantly. This was the “Bamboo Forest Flyer” that had dominated the promotional video for a dozen seconds—the top priority on her must-play list for this park.

The long queue moved forward a few steps. Beneath the track, the suspended seats slowly began to rise through the bamboo decorations. Cheng Xi watched the mechanism with a look of longing, and Meng Zhijin entered her field of vision at the same time.

Sunlight grazed the small tunnel they had just exited, scattering across Meng Zhijin’s cold profile. A thrilling, high-adrenaline ride like this seemed completely at odds with her personality.

Watching her, Cheng Xi inexplicably remembered the last time she and Meng Zhijin had a date at an amusement park. They had ridden a small rollercoaster—not even a very scary one—but Meng Zhijin’s face had turned pale afterward, and her steps had been unsteady. It truly didn’t suit her.

After lingering for another second, Cheng Xi looked away. Her eyes dimmed, and she turned to walk away, acting as if she had lost interest in the ride.

But before she could take a step, she was stopped by Meng Zhijin’s hand. A cool palm covered her bare arm. Meng Zhijin said calmly, “Let’s play this one.”

Cheng Xi looked at the Bamboo Forest Flyer Meng Zhijin was pointing to. She was surprised and a bit uncomfortable, offering an awkward reminder: “Teacher Meng… don’t force yourself.”

“Let’s try it,” Meng Zhijin replied softly, appearing to have some interest. “It looks interesting.”

With that, Meng Zhijin led Cheng Xi toward the queue. Cheng Xi’s feet hesitated against the ground, but the temporary resolve she had built was uprooted by the slight tug on her arm. She let herself be led by Meng Zhijin. Well, it’s been so long. She’s probably changed too.

The queue for the Bamboo Forest Flyer looked long, but the capacity per ride was quite high. Cheng Xi and Meng Zhijin were lucky enough to snag the last two seats of the next batch.

Both were already wearing portable recording equipment. Per the staff’s arrangement, they were assigned the two outermost seats. Just as Meng Zhijin was about to sit in the very last seat as indicated, she was stopped.

Cheng Xi sat in the outer seat before her, pointing to the inner seat. “Don’t force yourself.”

Meng Zhijin was stunned for a moment, then complied and sat beside her. Her mask covered most of her face, making it hard to read her expression, but her eyes beneath the sun hat seemed to curve slightly upward.

Once everyone was seated, the staff pulled down the safety bars. After three long beeps, the ride began to move. The seats lifted, and a slight sense of weightlessness began to emerge.

Normally, Meng Zhijin would never touch a thrill ride like this. The only two times she had were both with Cheng Xi. The wind rushed past her, creating a roar in her ears; the rapid movement of the seats felt like a physical pressure on her chest.

Suddenly, Meng Zhijin felt something brush against her hand. It was warm, soft, and carried a familiar sensation. Looking down, she saw Cheng Xi reaching her hand over.

The “Fox” was bold, her eyes and brows full of bright laughter. With a touch of teasing and pride, she said, “Here, I’m putting it here. If Teacher Meng is scared, I can provide a little bit of security for free.”

Meng Zhijin didn’t hesitate. The camera on her wrist shook twice, and in the next second, the lone hand in the frame was replaced by their fingers interlaced.

For Meng Zhijin, this was the ultimate security.

The Bamboo Forest Flyer wasn’t the scariest ride in the park, but it was the most immersive theme attraction. Cheng Xi felt the spins and vibrations—simulating a battle scene—as they flew through the bamboo forest. It felt like a truly exhilarating experience.

Less than twenty minutes later, they were back at the starting point. Cheng Xi was still buzzing with excitement and was about to share it with Meng Zhijin when she noticed a slight tension between Meng Zhijin’s brows.

The cameras on their wrists reminded them they were filming. For the sake of looking good on screen, Meng Zhijin had applied light makeup even under her mask. The blush peeking from the edge of the mask hid her complexion, and her dark eyes remained as calm as ever under the wide brim of her hat.

It all seemed like groundless speculation. But Cheng Xi could truly feel it: Meng Zhijin was uncomfortable. Cheng Xi knew better than anyone how strictly Meng Zhijin maintained her image in front of the lens. She would never, under any circumstances, reveal any abnormality to the cameras.

Stepping off the platform, Cheng Xi immediately sat on a nearby colorful bench. “Let’s go eat lunch.”

Meng Zhijin was pulled down to sit, finally getting a chance to catch her breath. However, she looked at Cheng Xi in confusion. “Weren’t there other things you wanted to play?”

“Suddenly, I don’t feel like it anymore,” Cheng Xi said, leaning back against her legs, looking casual.

Meng Zhijin was even more puzzled. This person had been so full of anticipation when they entered; how could she lose interest so quickly?

Perhaps feeling that her sudden change was a bit jarring, Cheng Xi looked around for a more suitable activity. Suddenly, her eyes lit up. The side door of a theme shop not far away was flashing with colorful lights to attract customers.

“I want to go in there!” Cheng Xi stood up. “Teacher Meng, how much budget do we have left?”

“After setting aside money for lunch, you can spend 238 yuan here,” Meng Zhijin calculated.

“…Oh.” Cheng Xi was instantly a little deflated. Everyone knows amusement park prices are outrageously high. That amount of money certainly wouldn’t buy much—not even a large limited-edition plushie.

It was true that this person’s moods came and went quickly. Cheng Xi soon recovered and said optimistically, “That’s fine too.”

“It’s worth just looking around. My place isn’t that big anyway; I don’t have to buy everything and take it home.” Besides, I can come back here on my own later and restock with Xiao Wu. Today is just for scouting.

Cheng Xi plotted in her mind. While browsing, she calculated what would be the best use of her money. She must have been too engrossed in the plushies and blind boxes because, when she turned around, she realized Meng Zhijin was gone.

Looking back, she saw Meng Zhijin standing at the shelf she had just left, holding a keychain she had put down, looking it over. Behind her was a wall of plushies. The lights made the whole world look purple and soft. Meng Zhijin was dressed simply in a white shirt and wide-leg pants. Surrounded by soft, warm plushies, her coolness was infused with a touch of childishness and cuteness. It was hard to describe—a contrast that wasn’t jarring, but rather captivating.

“Teacher Meng is interested?” Cheng Xi watched her, leaning against a nearby shelf, feeling generous. “Shall I buy one for you?”

Hearing this, Meng Zhijin quickly put the item down, as if she didn’t want to be seen like this. She feigned indifference, slipped her phone back into her pocket, and shook her head. “No need. Just buy what you like.”

For some reason, Cheng Xi felt Meng Zhijin was acting a bit strange. But the distance was great, and by the time Meng Zhijin walked back, the feeling had vanished, so she didn’t investigate further.

After a lap of the shop, while Meng Zhijin was outside queuing for a cotton candy stand they passed, Cheng Xi bought a pair of bowls—one with a black cat and one with a white cat.

The PD watched her take the gift-wrapped bag from the staff, feeling very confused. “Teacher Cheng, why buy bowls? And why hide it from Teacher Meng?”

“I didn’t know what else to buy. Teacher Meng and I are both ‘medicine jars’ (constantly taking medicine/supplements). I felt these two bowls suited us,” Cheng Xi replied. “The little black one reminds me to take my medicine on time, and the little white one reminds Teacher Meng.”

She stood at the door, looking at Meng Zhijin by the cotton candy stand. She turned to the camera with a mischievous glint in her eyes and whispered: “And don’t you think it would be a tiny bit cute for Teacher Meng to use this bowl?”

The PD imagined the usually cold and aloof Meng Zhijin using a cartoon bowl and laughed along with Cheng Xi.

If you asked what the essential activity for an amusement park date is, nine out of ten would say: the Ferris Wheel.

Cheng Xi and Meng Zhijin couldn’t avoid this cliché. Under the segment director’s request, they queued for a few minutes and boarded a cabin. The staff expertly closed the door. The portable camera mounted on the door captured both of them clearly.

Feeling the cabin sway before it balanced, Cheng Xi grumbled, “I don’t know what’s so great about Ferris wheels that every couple has to come.”

“When you imbue something with an aura of a loving fairy tale, many people will come because of the reputation,” Meng Zhijin said. It sounded like a dry, scientific analysis, but in the next second, she turned the conversation toward Cheng Xi:

“Have you heard? Couples who kiss when the Ferris wheel reaches the very top will definitely stay together until the end.”

The sunlight shifted angles as the wheel turned. Sitting opposite each other, their eyes met. Cheng Xi saw the warmth melting in Meng Zhijin’s eyes. This sentence didn’t sound like a question; it sounded like an invitation.

Her heart felt like a Ferris wheel cabin that had snapped its cable, dropping heavily. Cheng Xi blinked. “Having a taste for more” applied not just to two years ago, but to the starry sky two weeks ago. If the first door had already been pushed open, was the second time far away?

Cheng Xi bit her lip lightly. In the next second, a soft “Mm-hmm” came from the cabin. Propping up her chin as if slamming on the brakes, she turned her gaze out the window. “So it’s because of that fairy tale…”

“Mhm,” Meng Zhijin responded. She retracted her gaze, her lowered lashes taking in the view outside while suppressing certain emotions.

As the wheel slowly rose, the city became smaller and smaller. The land looked like an Impressionist oil painting. If it weren’t for that fairy tale, this view alone would be enough to attract people.

“Kid.”

In the silence, Meng Zhijin called out softly. She looked out the window and gestured, “Look over there.”

Cheng Xi followed her gaze. Looking out, the world was crowded with tall buildings, except for one massive, spacious area—like a hollowed-out section of the city.

It was the venue where the city often held large events.

It was also the place where they had once decided to get married.

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