Chapter 8 Can I Refuse?

An Chuyu suspected that she had been cursed by Zhu Cuixi, for such an absurd thought had actually popped into her mind.

What terrible idea had Zhu Cuixi come up with? Now she wanted to call her back and scold her.

An Chuyu dropped her phone, and collapsed onto the couch like a sack, resting her head on the armrest and picking up the script to continue wrestling with the troublesome play.

She rehearsed over and over in her head, having set even the expression needed for each frame, but she always felt something was missing. So she sat up, darted into the bedroom, and stared dead at the makeup table. In this scene, the most important prop was the makeup table.

A text message came in, disrupting her thoughts.

An Chuyu, barefoot and irritable, marched out of the bedroom and picked up the phone on the sofa.

Xi Zheng: "You're back in Beijing?"

An Chuyu had reset his contact name, fixing the typo.

"Something up?" An Chuyu typed with one hand, the other grabbing the cold glass of water for a few sips, not taking her eyes off her phone while drinking.

Xi Zheng: "My mom wants to meet you."

An Chuyu choked on her water, and coughed violently.

She put down the glass and clutched the phone with both hands, typing rapidly, "Can I refuse?"

Xi Zheng's mother wanting to meet her was normal; the agreement between her and Xi Zheng had been set privately, unknown to their parents. In the eyes of the elders, they were a married couple. The mother-in-law had not yet seen her daughter-in-law's face, which was somewhat unreasonable, but An Chuyu really didn't know how to handle the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law relationship.

Fortunately, Xi Zheng gave her a way out: "Then should I tell her you're tied up with an announcement and can't get away?"

An Chuyu: "Mhm."

Xi Zheng wasn't sure how long she would stay in Beijing this time. According to previous reports, An Chuyu wouldn't let herself take too long a break; she might join a crew in a few days.

Xi Zheng was about to suggest they meet and discuss some strategies. It wasn't a solution to keep avoiding the issue forever; it would be best to have a meal together with both elders. But unexpectedly, An Chuyu took the initiative, "Are you busy right now?"

This time it was Xi Zheng's turn to ask: "Something up?"

There was a long silence before a reply came. Xi Zheng waited impatiently, his index finger resting against his lower lip, deep in thought. Could it be that An Chuyu had some unspeakable trouble that she needed his help with?

After another three minutes, Xi Zheng couldn't wait any longer and simply stated, "Not busy."

There was still no response, and Xi Zheng felt as if his heart was being held in someone's grip, suspended high, unable to settle down, which was particularly uncomfortable.

Just when he thought An Chuyu had decided to ignore him, a detailed address appeared on the text chat interface, right down to the building number and door plate.

Xi Zheng's eyebrows rose, a faint smile spreading across his handsome face. The address was not unfamiliar; he had a hunch about An Chuyu's intention.

And sure enough, her next message confirmed his guess.

An Chuyu: "You can come over and find me, if you're willing."

An Chuyu: "Oh, and could you bring me a salad to go?"

Immediately afterward, An Chuyu sent him the name of a restaurant, telling him that it was very close to where she lived, and if he came from the north, it would be right on the way.

Xi Zheng, trying not to laugh as he looked at the words on the phone screen, could picture An Chuyu's expression as she typed, definitely proud and superior, as if certain he would come to find her.

Xi Zheng wanted to refuse her. She wouldn't even accept his WeChat friend request; why should he eagerly go to find her, let alone bring her a salad?

An Chuyu was thinking too highly of herself!

While mulling over this in his mind, however, Xi Zheng's actions had already betrayed his true intentions. He stood up, took his coat from the rack, put it on, and left with his car keys in hand.

----

The sky gradually darkened, and lights twinkled on outside the floor-to-ceiling window, casting a blurry silhouette of An Chuyu on the glass.

She curled up in the armchair by the window, her chin on her knees, biting her lower lip rhythmically, eyes fixed on her phone that had gone to standby mode.

Xi Zheng wouldn't really stand her up, would he?

An Chuyu had to admit, while Zhu Cuixi's suggestion might sound ridiculous, it actually worked wonders from an acting perspective. Otherwise, directors wouldn't ask actors with opposing scenes to rehearse in advance on set.

The doorbell rang, startling An Chuyu. She turned her head towards the entryway, frozen for a full five seconds before slipping on her slippers and running over.

Xi Zheng's face appeared in the video doorbell— he had truly come.

"Do I look like a criminal? Why the long scrutiny?" Perhaps because An Chuyu had delayed in opening the door for him, he seemed dissatisfied, his voice coming through the electronic buzzing, sounding rather muted.

An Chuyu unlocked the entrance downstairs and waited by the door.

Xi Zheng, carrying something, took the elevator up.

The design of one household per floor provides high security and privacy.

Standing outside An Chuyu's home, Xi Zheng lightly tapped on the door twice, suddenly feeling like a delivery person, only missing the line, "Hello, your order has arrived, please leave a five-star review."

The door opened, and An Chuyu stood inside, dressed in a soft sea blue sweater and white casual pants. Without makeup and her hair undone, she looked different from the glamorous star seen on screen, but it couldn't be denied she was beautiful even bare-faced—with smooth, fine skin and no visible pores.

Xi Zheng held up what he brought: "Did you call me over just to deliver your meal?"

An Chuyu took the paper bag and stepped aside to let him in: "I wouldn't let a delivery person enter." To prevent exposing her identity, she normally asked delivery people to leave the items outside.

Xi Zheng was reasonably satisfied with her current attitude, nodded, and confidently stepped inside.

An Chuyu found him a pair of disposable slippers, asking him to make do: "Would you like some water?"

"No."

Xi Zheng surveyed the layout of the house—a large, open duplex decorated in a typical Nordic style, simple and sophisticated. When he arrived, he met Zhao Yini wearing a down jacket walking her dog downstairs. Zhao Yini and An Chuyu were actors from the same company; it seemed quite a few celebrities lived in this community.

The only downside was the lack of warmth in the house. It felt empty, unlike a place An Chuyu often lived in. But then, considering she spent most of her time on set, staying in hotels, it made sense she rarely came home.

This was his first time entering her private space, and it felt quite novel.

"Make yourself at home." An Chuyu went to the kitchen to get a fork.

Xi Zheng took off his coat and draped it over the back of the sofa, sneaking a glance at An Chuyu. As she walked, she removed the hair tie from her wrist and tied her hair up, revealing her fair neck and a few strands of hair falling loosely.

An Chuyu quickly returned to her seat at the dining table, opening the paper bag which contained two portions—one was her ordered vegetable salad, and the other looked quite substantial: "Why did you buy so much? I have a small appetite."

Xi Zheng leaned on the table opposite her, getting close to her face: "Did you think you were the only one who needed dinner?"

"You haven't eaten?"

"Did you see where you live? It's in the opposite direction from me," he meant that driving over had taken up too much time, and he hadn't had the chance to eat.

Taking a bite of her vegetables, An Chuyu chewed and looked up at him: "I said in the text, you didn't have to come if you didn't want to, I could have ordered takeout."

Xi Zheng pulled out a seat and sat down, opening the other box of food, her words reducing his appetite by half: "Do you really think I came just to deliver food?"

With slow, deliberate chews, An Chuyu replied: "Of course not."

"Alright then, what did you want to see me about?" Xi Zheng leaned back and scrutinized her, "If you don't say, it kind of feels like the Banquet of Hongmen."

"You're overthinking," An Chuyu's eyes fell as she spoke vaguely, "It's nothing important."

"OK, let's eat first." Xi Zheng was beaten by her resolve, breaking apart disposable chopsticks and picking up a piece of beef from his meal, offering politely, "Would you like to try some of my food?"

Her portion really didn't look that appetizing, with just a few shrimps barely counting as meat and the rest being green leaves mixed with a few cherry tomatoes.

Glancing at his portion, An Chuyu saw the thick slices of beef covered in a rich sauce, along with tuna rolls and crispy sausage, garnished with carrots and broccoli. She shook her head, declining: "No thanks."

Xi Zheng then realized: "I forgot, female artists need to maintain their figures."

An Chuyu silently ate her vegetables.

Xi Zheng also ate leisurely, but he felt that sitting at the same dining table with her created an eerie atmosphere. Were they that close in their relationship?

Although they had done the most intimate things together, on a certain level, they weren't really familiar with each other.

Unable to hold back, Xi Zheng asked: "Last time in Paris... what did your sudden departure mean?"

"That wasn't exactly leaving without saying goodbye, was it? I left you a note," An Chuyu said.

She would have been better off not mentioning it, as it inevitably made Xi Zheng recollect the incident with the misspelled word.

An Chuyu also realized this and sincerely said, "I'm sorry, I spelled your name wrong."

She finished eating first, cleaning up the trash on the table before heading to the bedroom, leaving Xi Zheng alone at the dining table.

Since entering, Xi Zheng was full of questions. What exactly did An Chuyu invite him over for? Excluding meal delivery, he had also ended up accompanying her for dinner. What could possibly come next...

After hastily finishing his dinner, he knocked on the door to An Chuyu's room.

"Come in."

Xi Zheng pushed the door open, just in time to see An Chuyu coming out of the bathroom, apparently having already washed up, with strands of hair dampened by water sticking to her delicate skin.

An Chuyu sat at the dressing table, patting toner onto her face, her eyes glancing at a script on the table. The opened page had been read over and over, its corners curling up.

Xi Zheng hesitated for a while, his throat tickling, coughing twice: "You said at the dining table it was nothing important, so what is it?"

An Chuyu took a deep breath in front of the mirror, turned, and looked at him: "Come over here and kiss me."