Chapter 428: To Love Is Easy, To Stay Is Hard

The audience in the theater still watched in silence; though their hearts had begun to ache, they made no sound.

Their expressions remained fixed, eyes still focused on the big screen ahead.

Liu Tianxian was grateful they never had to worry about making a living, and could understand and be tolerant of each other.

Nor did they care who paid in daily life.

The film kept playing; the girl stubbornly went to a new planning company, and the environment of young people gathered there made her feel a vitality long absent from her life.

Not long after, the boy's close senior from school passed away, and he took the girl to attend the senior's funeral.

This made the boy very sad; he had wanted to talk to the girl about the senior, but after the girl got home she said a quick hello and went to rest.

This left him feeling a disappointment like never before, and he ended up sleepless the entire night.

Perhaps sensing the boy's mood, the girl wanted to take the initiative to chat with him, but the boy no longer wished to speak; he turned coldly and walked out the door.

From the girl's perspective, the death of someone she wasn't close to meant she truly couldn't grieve the way the boy did.

The girl's boss was a very charming man, who taught her many things, including advice on matters of the heart.

"Love is like fresh food—it has a shelf life. Once it expires, you're stuck in a stalemate, endlessly passing the ball back and forth. The loneliness of one person is far more lonely than the loneliness of two."

The girl fell into thought after hearing this; the scales in her heart began to tip, and the distance between the boy and the girl kept widening.

Little by little they lost the motivation to communicate, which made them realize they had to try to salvage their feelings for each other.

The moment you truly realize love has faded and cannot be recovered is often the very moment you are still struggling to win it back.

It turned out they had never even ridden a Ferris wheel together; it turned out they didn't really enjoy watching the night view. The small disagreements that kept cropping up now became great cracks in their relationship.

After attending a friend's wedding, they made a decision that didn't fit the occasion: to break up.

Four years of time, like one cycle, brought them back to the confession restaurant—only the familiar seat was already taken; the seat that had belonged to them was no longer there.

They found a spot and sat facing each other. Unlike four years ago, when the boy spoke first, this time it was the girl who opened her mouth.

"Thank you—that's all I wanted to say to you. I'll keep the happy part of our memories and treasure them well. You should do the same, okay?" The girl said with a smile.

The boy stayed silent and gave a slight nod, but though those tacit words had left his lips, at this moment he no longer wanted it to end.

He gathered his emotions, started to speak, then hesitated: "I don't want to break up. I don't think we need to. Let's get married!"

The boy went on—weren't other couples the same? Even when feelings changed, they just kept on living. Turning a blind eye, wasn't that just another way to get by?

He was anxious to hold on to the girl before him, even more to hold on to this relationship, because from the moment he had decided to give up his dream and go out to work, a blueprint had been born in his mind.

Working himself to the bone, running himself ragged, desperate to prove he had the ability and resolve to spend a lifetime with the girl—after marriage, having children, a family of three or four strolling together in the park, going camping, going to Disney.

The boy's eyes held only the future, never the present, so he and the girl drifted further and further apart—until he could no longer hear a fitting answer from her.

"Are you thinking that life is just this anyway—if romance can't go on, get married; if the marriage can't hold, have a child; if even the child doesn't work out, then just muddle through—because love always turns into family in the end?"

As the girl said these words, the boy's eyes were full of tears and reluctance.

Just as the two were talking, two young people in the early, hazy stages of love came to take the seat that had once been theirs—sharing the same unfamiliar awkwardness and politeness, and by coincidence both wearing white sneakers.

They chatted nonstop, hearts fluttering like startled fawns, carefully testing each other's feelings.

Seeing this scene, the boy and girl's tears went from one drop, two drops, to sobs they could no longer hold back, and all those memories of theirs came rushing back.

This segment moved the audience deeply, and was very painful to watch; some emotional viewers were already sobbing, some had tears in their eyes.

They had thought this film was a beautiful love story—turns out it was a mirror of reality, filmed about themselves.

This crying scene, Liu Tianxian acted it quite well; she was already a good actress, she just lacked direction, and this film had the dual guidance of Xue Xiaolu and Fang Hong.

And some of the content was from her own experience, so she didn't act out of character and could perform well; it's just that in the later conflict scenes she had a few minor flaws—overall, not bad.

Yaya pulled out a tissue and wiped the tears from her face.

"Are you being this dramatic?" Chen Sicheng asked.

"This movie made me feel so awful." Yaya wiped the tears from her face again.

Not only her—the emotional Nazha was also holding back tears, trying not to let them fall, afraid of smudging her makeup.

Even Xue Xiaolu took a deep breath.

Although she had watched this film countless times, every time she couldn't help wanting to cry.

At some point, Liu Tianxian's eyes had gone red, and she had already leaned her head on Fang Hong's shoulder; although this film was her own performance, she had never seen the finished product.

Fang Hong held her smooth shoulder, gently comforting her.

On screen, life rose and fell, people came and went, but the boy and girl's original intentions had long been worn away bit by bit.

If only the movies we followed could still be watched together; if only the stage plays we liked had never been missed; if only the bakery we often went to hadn't closed—could our love have lasted a little longer?

Having seen love at its most beautiful, they also knew what it looked like when love was gone; in the end, the boy and girl concluded this four-year romance that had withered like a bond.

A hundred different faces in the theater, each with their own sorrow—some crying, some choking back sobs, some covering their mouths to hold it in.

The camera recorded this scene. The beginning was so beautiful, so aspirational in love, but by the end it made people afraid of falling in love—so painful, so painfully painful.

Even though they decided to part with smiles, we no longer felt it was beautiful or happy for them.

At the film's end, the boy and girl decided to use rock-paper-scissors to decide who got the cat; the boy won the girl with paper.

The girl pretended to be angry and questioned why he had played paper; the boy said, because I've grown up.

Yes, he had grown up, and no longer agonized over why paper could beat rock—questions that simply have no answer.

Nor did he want to take down the curtains they had hung together, still so new yet to be removed; nor did he want to know what exactly had killed their love.

Perhaps one day we'll bump into each other on the road by chance; I hope then I can see you looking happy, and you can see me looking happy too.

Then we'll wave to each other with our backs turned, walking away in opposite directions, happy!

The End.

A faint mood of sorrow spread through the theater; the audience could not calm the waves in their hearts for a long time—the aftereffect of this film was truly too strong.

So strong that they were unwilling to believe in love, unwilling to believe that love could be shattered by reality—too cruel.

The theater lights blazed on, and a line of main creators walked to the front of the stage.

Liu Tianxian braced herself against Fang Hong as she stood; her heart too could not settle—she was actually very emotional too.

Xue Xiaolu, Bai Yu, and Liu Tianxian stood in a row, watching the audience whose emotions and expressions all looked unstable.

The host held the microphone: "Looks like the audience is really drawn in. Let's wait a bit, let them settle down first."

"Clap clap clap!"

No one knew who rose first to applaud, but with a "whoosh" a whole swath of people stood up, the applause fervent.

"You really made a fine film." Film Critics Association Vice President Zhang Wei said from his seat.

He was sitting close by, right in the front row.

The three main creators bowed to him in thanks, then bowed to the audience in thanks as well; the applause remained fervent and long-lasting.

Xue Xiaolu's face was full of delight and emotion; Bai Yu's face showed relief, proving that taking this film was the right call.

Having the first film recognized by the audience still gave a real sense of accomplishment.

Liu Tianxian, meanwhile, felt gratified and moved; she glanced at Fang Hong, a bit of happiness and small smugness on her face, in a good mood.

Seems she'd recovered from the earlier sentimentality, washed over by joy—at least the audience had applauded her, and the Scholar had praised them too.

Fang Hong also smiled as he looked at her, widened his eyes at her, opened his mouth in an exaggerated "Wow"—without making a sound, just the shape of the mouth.

That made Liu Tianxian laugh despite herself, feeling quite pleased.

Their little exchange drew no attention from those around them. After the applause died down, the host said: "One question each, about the film—who wants to go first."

Immediately an audience member raised a hand, and a staff member handed the microphone to a middle-aged woman.

"Hello, I'm Li Duoyu, Deputy Editor-in-Chief of the New Beijing News, and also a film critic. Before coming, I thought this would be another youth film like Those Years, but after watching I was wrong. This film is like a flower in full bloom, like one withering—it blossoms and quickly fades. I'd like to ask the director: at the time, what made you want to make this film?" Li Duoyu's review was quite high.

"At the time the Principal came to me with the script, saying only I could direct this film, that I had a delicate mind and all that—a string of praise that left me dizzy, and I took it on in a daze." Xue Xiaolu was completely unreserved, saying it straight out.

This drew laughter from the room, easing the somber atmosphere.

Fang Hong also smiled, saying nothing.

"Just kidding. I'm very grateful the Principal brought such a great script to me, and grateful too for all the advice and help he gave during filming, and for giving me such wonderful actors—truly grateful." Xue Xiaolu patted Liu Tianxian's shoulder, then bowed slightly toward Fang Hong's direction.

During filming he gave advice, helped her sort out the plot, explained his directing insights—genuinely heartfelt thanks.

Fang Hong hurriedly stood to steady him, but the man had already straightened up, so he sat back down.

Some of the filmmakers present were also moved—the Principal really does have good scripts; it just depends on whether he'll let you make them.

Then came the next one. An audience member asked: "Hello, I'm Hu Jianli, Director of the Entertainment Section of Jinghua Times. I watched Liu Tianxian's Performance Department in this film—she performed well, quite natural, an improvement over her other films. I hope you keep moving forward."

"Thank you, thank you for the affirmation." Liu Tianxian took the microphone and responded.

"What I'd like to ask is, how do you understand the love in the film? How do you hold on to love—have you thought about it? Could you share with us your mindset making this film, or your understanding of love?" Hu Jianli said.

Liu Tianxian said: "The liking and freshness in the film will be washed away by time; this lets us understand that falling in love is easy, staying together is hard.

But often, liking appears during the romance itself. When the liking fades, I think the true key to holding on to the feeling is love—that's my understanding."

"Clap clap clap!"

Applause broke out in the room—spoken so well, the true key to feeling is love.

Falling in love is easy, staying together is hard—it struck a chord with them too. Many couples in love are forced to break up because of clashing personalities and not enough adjustment in daily life.

Still, this counts as Liu Tianxian's own insight—she's been through it herself.

"You said it well. I hope you keep your original aspiration in the future, and find the key on the path of acting too." Hu Jianli said.

(End of chapter)