Huayu 2014: From Traffic Stars to Superstars

Chapter 11 An Encounter

October 10, Shanghai.

This is the fifth day since the release of "The Coffin in the Mountain".

Dilraba was wearing a long black down jacket, with the zipper up to cover the lower half of her face, leaving only her thick eyebrows and big eyes visible.

She wasn't wearing makeup today and forgot to bring her mask, so she had to pull her collar up a little.

Her cousin Subi was standing next to her, wearing a pink hoodie and holding her phone, flipping through movie schedules.

"Sis, the screening schedule for 'The Coffin in the Mountain' is pretty good."

But I heard it's a suspense film, won't it be boring?

"No." Dilraba pulled the zipper of her down jacket down a bit. "I asked some netizens, and they said it's amazing."

Which netizen?

"You don't know him. He's just a friend I met while playing games."

Subi stared at her for several seconds, then her tone became ambiguous: "A guy, right? Someone you met online in the game. You even listened to his recommendations for this movie?"

Dilraba pushed her away: "Stop talking nonsense. He's just an ordinary online friend. We've been chatting for years but have never met in person."

Last time we were chatting in the group about good movies, he mentioned a friend of his acted in this one, and it got great reviews.

"So who is his friend?"

"Gao Huan..." Dilraba thought for a moment, "Never mind, as long as the movie is good."

Subi still had that "I understand you" expression, but Dilraba ignored her, took her ticket, and went inside.

"Sis, are you ready for that event tomorrow?" Subi asked from behind.

"That's about it."

Dilraba glanced down at the schedule reminder on her phone.

Tomorrow night, Shanghai, the Beauty Gala.

Yellow dress, forest princess style, makeup artist arrives at 3 pm.

Are you nervous?

"A little." Dilraba put her phone back in her pocket. "So I'm going to relax today and watch a movie."

The two people had their tickets checked and entered the theater.

While having her ticket checked and scanning the QR code, Dilraba caught a glimpse of a figure walking in from the other entrance.

The man was wearing a dark gray coat, with a scarf casually draped over his shoulders. He walked at a leisurely pace, as if he were following his own rhythm.

The lights were flickering, making it difficult to see faces clearly, but that aura was too striking in the crowd.

Dilraba glanced at it but didn't pay much attention.

Before the theater lights had even dimmed, as she looked down to reply to her WeChat message, Subi suddenly leaned over and whispered, "Sis, that lady next to you is so pretty."

Dilraba raised her head and glanced to her right.

Then he froze for a moment.

The woman in the dark gray coat was sitting two seats away from me.

She wasn't wearing makeup, but her skin was so white it glowed, and her features were so delicate they didn't look real.

With her delicate brow bone, high and narrow nose bridge, and a chin with a clean, measured curve, she looked like a lady who had stepped out of an ancient painting.

Dilraba has seen many good-looking people, both inside and outside the entertainment industry, but this one still made her think to herself: This person is truly beautiful.

It's not the kind of glamour that comes from elaborate makeup, but a natural beauty that comes from her bone structure and temperament.

When the woman took off her scarf, she glanced at Dilraba inadvertently, her gaze as calm as still water, and then nodded slightly as a greeting.

Dilraba subconsciously returned her a smile, her heart inexplicably skipping a beat.

She glanced at the title of the film, "The Coffin in the Mountain," on the screen, then couldn't help but glance to her right.

Subi sent her a WeChat message: "Sis, is that lady next to you also an actress? She's prettier than you."

Dilraba turned her phone face down and pinched the bridge of her nose.

I'm a little depressed.

But I have to admit.

Forget it, I won't compare myself to ordinary people.

The stage lights went out, and the screen lit up.

It was reflected on the woman's face.

There seemed to be light flowing in her eyes.

As Dilraba looked at the silhouette of her profile, she suddenly remembered the figure in the gray coat she had seen in the corridor earlier, and it seemed to be her.

The two people entered the same theater from different directions, with only a few seats between them.

It's a feeling that's hard to describe; it's somewhat subtle.

But Dilraba was quickly drawn into the screen.

The film uses a combination of flashbacks and multiple storylines, starting with a coffin being carried into the village.

Dilraba was a little confused, but she couldn't bear to look away.

Gao Huan's character, Xiao Zongyao, makes his first appearance on a small path at the entrance of the village.

Wearing a plain plaid shirt and carrying a backpack, he looked like a college student returning from the city.

Nothing special, even a bit unremarkable. He's completely different from the ethereal Baili Tusu in "Swords of Legends".

Dilraba's first reaction was: Is this really Gao Huan?

Then she stopped thinking about it.

Because the plot drew her in.

Xiao Zongyao and his girlfriend Huang Huan were having a secret rendezvous in the woods behind the village when they were spotted by Baihu, a local thug.

Baihu extorted money from them, but Xiao Zongyao didn't want to pay, so the two started shoving each other.

The white tiger was pushed down, and the back of its head hit a rock, whereupon it lay motionless.

There wasn't a single unnecessary line in the scene depicting manslaughter.

The camera zoomed in on Gao Huan's face.

He crouched down to check the white tiger's breath, his fingers trembling.

Then he looked up at Huang Huan, his lips trembling, unable to speak.

His pupils were dilated, as if half of his soul had been taken away. It wasn't fear; it was the tangible manifestation of the words "It's over."

Dilraba gripped the armrest tightly, her palms sweaty.

She remembered.

The QQ user with the screen name "God of Justice" mentioned in a previous chat that his friend had acted in a movie that was quite interesting, and recommended that she watch it when it was released.

She didn't take it seriously at the time and replied with "Okay".

In fact, she had gradually realized that the "God of Justice" she had known since high school might be Gao Huan.

In the latter half of the movie, Xiao Zongyao hides in an abandoned hut on the mountain, too afraid to come down.

His face was covered in dry mud, his lips were cracked and bleeding, and he was huddled in a corner.

Huang Huan came to find him, and he hugged her and cried, crying like a child.

That kind of suppressed sob squeezed out of the throat.

Dilraba recalled being scolded countless times by her teacher in acting class: "You're not real enough."

What is reality?

Even though you can't see the person's face clearly on the screen, you can still feel him teetering on the edge of collapse.

Those eyes held fear, struggle, pleading for help, and even a hint of longing for death.

Subi, who was next to her, had already covered her nose with a tissue and was sobbing softly.

When the subtitles appeared, Dilraba found that her eyes were also wet.

She took out her phone and sent a WeChat message to "God of Justice": "Is your friend Gao Huan?"

Then, after thinking for a moment, he added a thumbs-up emoji.

He added, "That's amazing."

After sending it, she glanced to her right again.

That seat was already empty.

The woman in the gray coat left sometime during the night, without saying a word, and I don't even know her name.

Subi tugged at her hand: "Sis, who are you looking at?"

"No." Dilraba put her phone away. "Let's go back and get some sleep. We have an event tomorrow."

"Who are you walking the red carpet with at that beauty gala tomorrow?"

"Sister Mi," Dilraba said, zipping her down jacket all the way up, "she's taking me under her wing."

As she walked out of the theater, she couldn't help but look back at the empty seat one last time.

The credits were still rolling on the screen, and the few people in the theater stood up and started to leave.

She wondered who that woman was.

She's more beautiful than her.

No, it can't be described as stunningly beautiful.

The word "stunningly beautiful" doesn't quite seem right when used to describe this person.

It's cold.

That kind of cool, aloof beauty that makes you want to get close but dare not.

Supi chimed in, "Sis, do you think Gao Huan himself will come to Shanghai for promotions? If there's a meet-and-greet, could you help me get tickets?"

"I don't know." Dilraba took out her phone and glanced at it again. "God of Justice" had not replied yet.

Not urgent.

He might be filming, or he might be busy.

We'll chat again someday anyway.

Ye Yunzhu sat in the back seat of the Rolls-Royce.

Outside the car window was the night view of Shanghai at the end of October, with neon lights flashing by one after another, casting streaks of light and shadow on the car window.

She closed her eyes and leaned back in the seat.

The scene I just saw in the movie theater is still in my mind.

Gao Huan's face.

Xiao Zongyao's ashen face was that of the man who had held Huang Huan and wept bitterly in the abandoned hut.

That soul that crushed and swallowed fear, cowardice, and despair.

Ye Yunzhu opened her eyes, took out her phone, and typed a word in her notes: "Xiao Zongyao's soul."

Then she looked at those three words and deleted them.

wrong.

It's not Xiao Zongyao.

The car was parked in front of the hotel.

After getting off the car, Ye Yunzhu didn't go back to her room but went to the coffee shop in the hotel lobby first.

She found a seat by the window, ordered a hot Americano, and pulled a small sketchbook out of her bag.

The first stroke of the charcoal pencil is an eye.

It was that look in his eyes.

After pushing Baihu down, Xiao Zongyao squatted on the ground, looking at his trembling hands.

There was fear, disbelief, and a sense of despair in his eyes, a feeling that "there's no going back."

Ye Yunzhu paused for a moment while she was drawing.

She remembered the night of the premiere, when she sat in the corner of the theater.

When Gao Huan stood on the stage and was asked, "What are your expectations for the box office?", he smiled slightly and said, "My small goal is 100 million."

His tone was so flat, it was as if he were just saying the weather was nice today.

But you know he's serious.

Ye Yunzhu lowered her head and continued drawing.

She thought that perhaps she would wait for him to celebrate at a party celebrating a new movie.

Perhaps she will walk towards him at some art exhibition.

Perhaps we don't need so many "maybes".

She opened her phone's contacts and found a name.

I hesitated for two seconds.

Then the call didn't go through.

……