You Are Deep in The Stars

“So, do you believe it?” Bai Xi asked Han Zhuo after Wu Zigang’s car drove away. “He did not conduct any experiments on Qian Ning and did not know about it beforehand.”

“It seems quite credible,” Han Zhuo led him out. “But if this matter is true, then for the third laboratory, it can definitely be regarded as the most unprecedented thing it has encountered since its establishment, the biggest blow.”

“Will Wu Zigang go crazy over this?” Bai Xi was a little worried.

“No, he will probably try his best to make up for this major experimental error,” Han Zhuo said. “Unless the third laboratory is completely destroyed, he will not allow himself to go crazy.”

Bai Xi nodded. “Yes.”

.

The days were very short in winter. It was just after six o’clock in the evening, and the sky was completely dark.

“Would you like something to eat?” Han Zhuo asked.

Bai Xi shook his head. Although he was indeed hungry, the smell of the garbage dump coming from all directions was enough to make any appetite disappear.

“Then do you want to go to the company?” Han Zhuo asked again. “I will work overtime with you for a while.”

Bai Xi couldn’t laugh or cry when he heard this. He said, “Why are you like my dad, always rushing me to go to work, even on weekends?”

“Because I found out, when you were working, you were the most attentive and… carefree?” Mr. Han looked for a word that he thought was very suitable. Of course, there must be calculations and intrigue in the business world. It was distressing, but compared to the underground warehouse, it was obviously nothing worth mentioning.

“I don’t want to work. I don’t want to go home,” Bai Xi squatted on the roadside, like a child playing tricks. “I don’t want to walk either.”

“Then why don’t you go to the aquarium?” Han Zhuo suggested. “Mrs. Bai said you liked watching dolphins when you were a child.”

“No, I’m tired of seeing it,” Bai Xi refused.

“Playground?”

“No water games in winter.”

“Then… what about watching a movie?” Han Zhuo pulled him up. “We can kill at least two hours, and then we can go home and sleep.”

“Are there any blockbusters recently?” Bai Xi asked.

“There are many,” Han Zhuo stopped a taxi on the roadside. “It’s not too late to choose when we get to the cinema.”

Bai Xi reluctantly accepted the proposal.

Mr. Han was right; there were indeed many blockbusters released recently.

But the problem was there were too many blockbusters and it was the weekend, so the business in the cinema was quite good. Most people had bought their tickets on the app early in the morning. Old antiques like Mr. Han, who specially went to the ticket office to queue up, could only see “full seats” displayed in silence in the rows.

“Aren’t there any movies?” Bai Xi squeezed in and asked.

“Yes, we also have a domestic blockbuster,” the ticket sales lady liked these two handsome guys very much, so she enthusiastically introduced, “The hall is empty, and you can still choose the best seats.”

“How bad is this movie?” Bai Xi twitched her lips. “What’s the title again?”

“The Big Hawthorn of Love,” the ticket sales lady replied.

“Okay,” Bai Xi took out his wallet. “I’ll take two tickets, thank you.”

Mr. Han glanced at him incredulously.

Probably due to the poor box office performance, the theater was running a discount promotion: ‘watch the movie for two and get a free couple’s meal, complete with two suspiciously pink sodas and strawberry cream popcorn in a heart-shaped bucket.’

The ticket checker at the entrance, initially yawning out of boredom, suddenly perked up when he saw actual customers. “Welcome! Here are your 3D glasses, please take them.”

“Why do we need 3D for this kind of movie?” Han Zhuo found a seat and handed Bai Xi his drink carefully. “Be careful.”

“Because the 2D tickets are 38 yuan, and 3D costs an extra 60 yuan,” Bai Xi explained, looking around. The sparse audience numbered less than ten, all with expressions ranging from resignation to dark anticipation.

“Just like us, they probably couldn’t secure tickets for other shows,” Bai Xi scooped up a handful of popcorn. “But since we’re here, might as well contribute a couple hundred to Big Hawthorn.”

“We could have gone downstairs for your favorite spicy hotpot, or watched the musical fountain,” Han Zhuo suggested, handing him the straw for his drink. “It’s not too late to leave.”

“No, I want to watch the movie,” Bai Xi insisted, putting on his 3D glasses. “Don’t disturb me.”

The theater darkened as the screening began.

Reluctantly, Mr. Han reclined in his seat, focusing on eating popcorn.

A sudden terrifying scream echoed through the stereo.

Bai Xi jumped, nearly spilling his soda.

It dawned on them that “The Big Hawthorn of Love” wasn’t just a simple rural romance but a horror movie akin to “Midnight Hazelnut.”

Gasping, Bai Xi gripped Han Zhuo’s hand tightly.

“It’s okay,” he reassured him softly. “Should we switch to another movie? There must be other options.”

“No,” Bai Xi refused immediately.

Han Zhuo sighed inwardly.

The director spared no effort in justifying the 98-yuan 3D ticket price, orchestrating scenes where the heroine leapt out of the screen, terrifyingly lifelike and meticulously crafted—the industry’s pride.

Bai Xi, shaking with fear, squeezed Han Zhuo’s hand until it turned purple.

Mr. Han, torn between amusement and concern, shielded Bai Xi’s eyes as the next frightening scene unfolded.

“Be good,” he murmured. “This movie’s a drag. We really shouldn’t have watched it.”