Chapter 63

Wu Yuchen rushed home and took the undelivered letter from his father’s hands.

“Chenchen, what’s going on? When the mailman came, I thought he’d delivered it to the wrong address!”

Wu Yuchen quickly scanned the invitation letter and the accompanying contest guidelines, confirmed it was genuine, then grinned at Wu Jianping:

“Dad, it’s true. This is an invitation from the Berlin Film Festival!”

“You? The Berlin Film Festival?!”

Wu Jianping was stunned—he worked at a publishing house and knew well the prestige of Europe’s Big Three.

These were among the world’s three greatest film festivals; only directors like Xie Fei and Zhang Yimou from China ever got invited. He couldn’t imagine his own son receiving such an invitation!

Wu Yuchen explained to his father:

“It’s my short film, ‘Car 44.’ It’s been selected for the short film section of the Berlin Film Festival.”

Then Wu Yuchen grabbed the letter and headed for the door:

“Dad, I’ve got to go find a phone that can make an international call!”

“Also, I won’t be back tonight!”

Wu Jianping wanted to ask more, but his son had already bolted out. He sighed, wondering how his son had grown so capable since starting university.

First a short film, then asking him to co-write a novel, now suddenly working on a feature—and now this invitation from Berlin. Each development made Wu Jianping feel like he was dreaming.

A thought surfaced in Wu Jianping’s mind: maybe his completed novel, “Bright Sword,” really could become a bestseller?

Wu Yuchen found a place that offered international calls. The rates were steep, but he didn’t care about the cost now.

Beijing was six hours ahead of Berlin; it was just starting work there, and the call connected after two rings.

Wu Yuchen was glad his English listening and speaking were decent—he immediately began conversing with the other end.

After a while, he hung up and got the information he needed: he could arrive in Berlin three days early, and all accommodation and travel expenses during the festival would be covered. After all, many directors from impoverished regions couldn’t even afford their own airfare.

Of course, they wouldn’t provide first-class flights or luxury hotels—that was reserved for winners of the Golden Bear or Silver Bear in the main competition. And since his short film “Car 44” was only a short, they’d cover expenses for only two people—any extra costs were on him.

Wu Yuchen smiled. Two people was enough!

Outside the girls’ dormitory at Jingying, Jiang Qin saw Wu Yuchen and thought he was taking her to a hotel—her heart fluttered with shy excitement.

But Wu Yuchen pulled her to a public phone, pulled a letter from his chest, and slapped it into her hand with bold confidence:

“Call your dad. Tell him you’re not going home for the New Year!”

“Huh?!”

“I’m taking you to Berlin for the New Year!”

The Berlin Film Festival opened on February 15 and lasted ten days; this year’s Lunar New Year fell on February 16, so attending meant spending the Lunar New Year in Berlin.

Jiang Qin didn’t react at first, then stared at Wu Yuchen in disbelief. When he showed her the invitation and explained, she screamed and flung herself into his arms.

This was the Berlin Film Festival!

In Jiang Qin’s mind, it was one of the highest temples of cinematic art!

…

Tiny snowflakes drifted onto Jiang Qin’s hair, but she didn’t care—she simply linked arms with Wu Yuchen as he led her through winding alleyways.

Both knew why Wu Yuchen had taken her out today, though she’d assumed they’d go to a hotel. Instead, he brought her to the entrance of a shabby courtyard tucked deep in the alley.

Jiang Qin followed Wu Yuchen inside, to a small room. Outside, it looked dilapidated, but when he opened the door, she saw it was carefully arranged—red quilts, red bedding, and all the comforts: electric heaters, everything.

This was the room where Xiao Ma lived in the film “Us Two.”

Wu Yuchen smiled and explained to Jiang Qin:

“This is the courtyard where we shot our film. I rented it for six months. I told my parents I was busy filming and wouldn’t be home for the next few days—technically, that’s not a lie. Before we leave for abroad, this is our little nest. What do you think?”

Jiang Qin’s eyes lit up with delight. She let go of Wu Yuchen and examined the room closely: red lanterns hung at the door, couplets pasted on either side, a large red poster stuck behind the door, and every wall wrapped in red paper. The whole room felt warm and festive, like a bridal chamber.

She sat on the edge of the bed, running her fingers over the embroidered mandarin ducks on the red quilt. A deep warmth of affection rose steadily within her.

This was far more meaningful than just booking a hotel—and Jiang Qin was deeply moved by Wu Yuchen’s thoughtfulness.

Wu Yuchen smiled. The room in the film had always looked like this—its redness symbolized Xiao Ma’s fiery spirit. Now it suited him perfectly. Honestly, the small space was quite comfortable.

Night fell. Outside the room, no wind stirred, but snow continued to fall softly and steadily. Inside, the six-square-meter space was warmed by electric heaters and the fervor of two young bodies.

Both lay beneath the covers. Jiang Qin nervously gripped the edge of the quilt. The old incandescent bulb overhead cast an orange glow on her pale face, making her blush even more alluring.

Wu Yuchen brushed his fingers along her long, smooth neck, her beautiful face, then gently pushed back the strands of hair from her forehead. He whispered softly by her ear:

“Qinqin~”

“Kiss~”

“Kiss, Senior Sister~”

“I’m coming!”

The dark shadow on the wall had melted into a single blur.

The lamp’s cord ran beside the bed. From outside, the once steady light now flickered wildly. The snow piled in the courtyard glowed faintly red under its glow, as if blushing—how long it took to fade, no one knew.

The next morning, Wu Yuchen woke with drowsy eyes, glanced out the window—the snow still drifted down. It seemed this storm would last.

The electric heater kept the room warm; beneath the covers, he felt no chill, especially with warmth pressed against him—youthful vigor burned fiercely.

Wu Yuchen gently pinched Jiang Qin in his arms. She was still fast asleep, clearly exhausted. He didn’t wake her, only smiled—this joy was not for outsiders to understand.

He planned to buy this courtyard when he had spare money—not as an investment, but because its meaning was different.

Thinking of money, Wu Yuchen thought of Berlin approaching—this trip would decide everything.