Chapter 176: You Are My Bond

Everyone sang karaoke, and several crazy women kept letting loose until past midnight.

"Principal, you must safely get our Xianxian home—if you bully her, I'll settle accounts with you," Zhang Jingying joked threateningly.

The others all laughed good-naturedly.

"Get lost, the both of you."

Liu Tianxian lifted her foot as if to kick them.

Though she'd been drinking, her movements showed signs of intoxication, but her mind was still quite clear.

"Bye!"

"."

Everyone immediately burst into laughter and scattered, waving goodbye as each went home to their own mother.

In December in Beijing, snow fell intermittently, and the roads were thickly covered.

Crunching underfoot with a "crunch-crunch" sound.

Streetlights were dim, cars on the road were few—it was too late, hardly anyone was out.

Fang Hong and Liu Tianxian didn't take a car; instead, they walked side by side along the road.

Liu Tianxian wore a thick scarf around her neck, covering her face entirely, leaving only her eyes exposed.

After having been wild for hours, inhaling the cold air left Liu Tianxian with a hollow feeling after the frenzy, and she sighed: "Ah, bombed again."

She meant "The Legend of Hongmen Banquet!" "Bombed? So what? Who hasn't bombed? Everyone has," Fang Hong replied casually.

"Like you've never bombed."

Liu Tianxian turned to look at him: "Hey, tell me, why can't you ever bomb?"

"Can't help it—I'm born with the protagonist aura; even if I wanted to bomb, I can't," Fang Hong said, striking a self-indulgent pose as he flicked his hair.

"Smug jerk."

Liu Tianxian swatted his butt, her motion elegant and carefree.

Fang Hong clutched his butt: "You're a female hooligan."

"Who are you calling a female hooligan?"

Liu Tianxian grew annoyed and lunged to grab him, drunk and reckless.

Fang Hong dodged and ran ahead—this woman was nuts; before they dated, she was such a sweet girl!

Now her true colors were showing? Liu Tianxian wouldn't let him go; she chased after him.

The two chased each other through the snow—normally, women run ahead while men chase behind, laughing and romancing happily.

But with them, it was the man being chased by the woman, cursing and grumbling—no romance at all.

Liu Tianxian moved fast and quickly caught up, leaping onto his back from behind and grabbing his neck: "Keep running, why'd you stop?"

Fang Hong placed his hands beneath her butt to support her—he couldn't run with someone on his back.

Besides, it was winter, and they were bundled up; in summer he might enjoy the soft warmth, but now her back was just a heavy lump.

"Act more reserved. Act more ladylike."

"Where am I not reserved? Where am I not ladylike?" Liu Tianxian, tipsy, spoke right beside his face.

Her breath, mingled with alcohol, blew straight onto Fang Hong's face.

Like a female bully, she patted his cheek repeatedly, chattering on: "Am I ladylike? Am I reserved?"

"Ladylike! Reserved!" Fang Hong sighed helplessly.

She'd been drinking—again acting crazy. He'd chosen her; he'd better tolerate it.

"Do you like me?" Liu Tianxian asked again.

"If you don't like me, I'll just leave you on the roadside," Fang Hong teased again.

"Hey, you'd really leave me on the roadside?" Liu Tianxian swayed back and forth on his back.

"Oh come on, I was just joking," Fang Hong said.

"Others can joke, but you can't—you have to stay with me, you can only say good things about me, never bad ones."

Liu Tianxian's tone held a touch of grievance, a hint of resentment, a dash of childishness.

She felt hollow inside; only with this man beside her did she feel full, supported, and that life had color.

If even this man abandoned her, questioned her, she'd feel utterly useless, unsure whether she should keep moving forward.

She only wanted to hear Fang Hong say good things about her!

"I'll always stay with you," Fang Hong said gently.

Liu Tianxian smiled, hugging his neck tighter, inhaling the cold air—her drunkenness faded slightly, her heart filled with profound contentment.

Only this man endlessly tolerated her!

"Why do I act so well under your camera but so badly under others'?" Liu Tianxian tilted her head to look at him.

When filming with Fang Hong, she always overperformed; with others, she always bombed.

"Because I care," Fang Hong whispered.

He never held auditions for his films, never scouted new talent like those big directors—he only picked professional actors suited to the roles, never judging others' acting.

If they acted well, fine; if not, they figured it out themselves.

He rarely spent time teaching or guiding someone, but with Liu Tianxian, he taught with care, guided with care, and studied her strengths with care.

Nothing else—Liu Tianxian had only this one dream of being an actress, and he had to support this.

These words made her hug him tighter, her eyes clear as water, her cheeks flushed—whether from cold or alcohol, no one could tell.

She looked up at the sky; snowflakes fell like willow catkins, landing on her forehead and melting instantly.

"Are you cold?"

"My body isn't cold, but my face is," Fang Hong said.

He carried someone on his back, his body warm, but his face exposed to the cold wind, which still bit sharply.

Liu Tianxian unwrapped her scarf and wrapped it around his neck, covering his face.

Then she pressed her face against his.

Fang Hong felt her face warm, smooth, and strangely beautiful.

"Hey, I've known you this long and never heard your dream—what's your dream?" Liu Tianxian said.

"To be a person. A standing person." Fang Hong said.

Liu Tianxian understood his meaning: not to bow for five pecks of rice, not to be bound by others' wills, to be a person with free will.

Put simply: do whatever you want.

"Then your lack of restraint is too reckless," Liu Tianxian said.

"You are my restraint," Fang Hong said.

Fang Hong's sudden confession made Liu Tianxian burst into "giggles," her laughter echoing far away.

It was deep in the night; the sound was eerie.

Just then, several young men wearing hats, shivering, walked toward them, enthusiastically discussing: "In the final wave, I used my Rammus ultimate, you Yasuo followed up and instantly killed them."

These guys must have just left an internet cafe after playing Hero Glory!

Hearing the eerie laughter ahead, they paused, saw it was just people, then quickened their pace.

As they passed, one muttered under his breath: "Crazy!"

"You're the crazy one!" Fang Hong turned and shouted back.

Liu Tianxian tapped his shoulder: "Why are you arguing with kids?"

"They called you crazy!" Fang Hong said.

"Let them call me crazy," Liu Tianxian didn't care.

The young men turned at the shout; one yelled "F**k!" and stepped forward to attack him.

"Forget it, forget it—they're not easy either. In this freezing winter, carrying a cripple, with no home at all," his friend pulled the hot-headed youth away.

"You're the cripple!" Liu Tianxian turned, shaken—how dare they call her a cripple?

But the group had already walked far away and couldn't hear.

"Why are you arguing with kids?" Fang Hong said.

"You're copying me!"

Liu Tianxian hit him: "Hurry up, or you'll turn into a snowman at this pace."

"That'd be fine—like Liang Shanbo and Zhu Yingtai. Maybe they'll put it in textbooks: Fang Hong and Liu Tianxian, eternal tragic lovers turned into snowmen."

"Giggles."

Liu Tianxian let out that eerie laugh again.

Against the pitch-black sky, snow fell heavier; under the dim streetlights, their shadows merged, stretching longer and longer.

The soft chatter and that joyful, eerie laughter drifted far, far away.

The next day, Fang Hong woke up early as usual—he also had to help with the Propaganda Department's promotion of The Big Man.

Because he was one of the main actors in this movie.

Liu Tianxian didn't need to; she only needed to attend the premiere.

She'd been a guest star, unpaid.

Recently, she received an invitation to a symposium: a special screening and seminar on The Genius Game.

It would be held in Beijing on December 19 and broadcast on CCTV6 Dianying Pindao.

Attendees were all experts and celebrities.

Including Zhang Baiqing, Honorary President of the China Film Critics Association; Rao Shuguang, Secretary-General of the China Film Association; Zhao Baohua, Vice President of the China Film Literature Society; renowned experts Zhang Sitao, Gao Erchun, Dou Chunqi; Zhang Wei, Executive Vice President of the China Film Critics Association; Zhao Weifang, Deputy Director of the Film Institute at the China Art Research Academy; Wang Chun, Editor-in-Chief of Film Art.

These were people who held the power of discourse. Fang Hong had been invited too, but he had no time.

That time coincided with The Big Man's release; Fang Hong had to travel to South Korea with Zhang Songwen for promotion—how could he spare time?

Even if he went, he'd have nothing substantial to say—just impressions: your creative process, insights, character interpretation, how you shot it, why you shot it so well?

Why did it explode across Asia? Why do foreigners love it? What insights does it offer for today's Chinese cinema?

Fang Hong had no insights at all—he just copied it.

So only Liu Tianxian could go and put on a show; she'd read plenty of self-help books, had great speaking skills, and was perfect for it.

No more for tonight.

(End of Chapter)