You Are Deep in The Stars

Looking at the midnight ghost with its bloody mouth open on the screen, Bai Xi finally accepted Mr. Han’s proposal and planned to end this thrilling and terrifying movie-watching experience early. However, before the two of them walked out of the screening room, something appeared on the screen. The ending song had already played lively, and a large group of miserable female ghosts, with red ribbons tied around their waists, sang and danced together to sing “Today is a good day,” using auspicious gongs and drums to sound the joy of the year.

Bai Xi couldn’t bear it and said that it was simply the worst movie he had ever seen.

Han Zhuo suppressed his laughter and took him downstairs to order seafood casserole porridge. Then he put the other person’s cold hand into his palm and said, “Okay, okay, let’s eat something warm first.”

Bai Xi said weakly, “Yeah.”

The porridge shop was quite famous, and the food was served very quickly. Han Zhuo helped him fill a small bowl of hot porridge. “Eat slowly, be careful not to burn yourself.”

“What did you do—” Seeing his horrible hands, Bai Xi was shocked at first, but before the shock could subside, he quickly realized his mistake. He sat up straight with a guilty conscience and groaned, “I’m sorry.”

“Just say sorry and that’s it?” Han Zhuo teased him.

“Then what else should I do?” Bai Xi stretched out his hand in front of him. “How should I pay you back?”

With a “pop” sound, someone slapped two movie tickets into his hand.

Bai Xi: “…”

Han Zhuo: “…”

The other party was a man who looked to be in his thirties, with a half-length ponytail. His expression seemed quite joyful, with a salesman’s professional smile. “Two gentlemen, here are free movie tickets. With free hawthorn soda and strawberry popcorn.”

Bai Xi had an ominous premonition.

Sure enough, the other party continued enthusiastically, “Director Mark Li’s latest masterpiece, the pinnacle of domestic campus horror, suspense, and love action films, ‘The Big Hawthorn of Love.'”

Bai Xi decisively put his own movie tickets back into his pocket. “Thank you, but we’ve already seen it.”

The man’s expression suddenly turned more intense. “Did you pay for it yourselves?”

“What do you think?” Bai Xi stepped back. “You should find someone else to give them to; they’re almost expired.”

“Don’t worry!” The man dragged a chair over and placed it opposite him, pulling out a recording pen from nowhere and pointing it directly at Bai Xi’s mouth. “What did you think of the movie?”

Bai Xi: “…”

Han Zhuo who was sitting next to him, played with his phone, seemingly oblivious to the conversation.

“Don’t be nervous, take your time,” the man said eagerly, eyes sparkling with anticipation.

“I—”

“We thought it was great.” Before Bai Xi could answer, Mr. Han interjected from the side. He pushed up the rimless glasses on the bridge of his nose, looking extremely gentle, elegant, and believable. “The suspense was top-notch, even rivaling Alfred Hitchcock.”

Bai Xi looked at him in admiration, amazed at how effortlessly he could fib like that.

The man choked up and tears welled in his eyes. “Really?”

“Absolutely,” Mr. Han affirmed. “You should give away those tickets quickly so more people can enjoy this excellent movie.”

“Thank you!” The man stood up, bowed to them both, and then vanished like the wind out of the seafood porridge shop’s door.

“What just happened?” Bai Xi was bewildered.

Han Zhuo slid his phone in front of him. “I just found out.”

On the screen was a serious-faced photo of the long-haired man from earlier, identified as Mark Li, the chief director of “The Big Hawthorn of Love.”

Bai Xi was surprised. “The director?”

“Yeah.” Han Zhuo helped him pick up the food. “Let’s eat.”

“No wonder he was so serious just now.” Bai Xi stirred the porridge twice with a spoon and then asked, “But why did you lie to him about the movie being good?”

“He was so happy just now.” Han Zhuo shrugged nonchalantly.

“I get that he was happy, but you know that’s not true. The movie was simply terrible.” Bai Xi emphasized, “You should honestly point out its flaws so he can improve in the future, instead of continuing to make such bad movies.”

“But I wasn’t really paying attention to the movie at all, and you kept pinching my hand,” Han Zhuo chuckled. “Don’t worry, in the real world, even with my untruthful compliments, audience reactions and box office numbers will wake him up.”

Bai Xi insisted, “No, we still shouldn’t lie to him.”

“You’re really good.” Han Zhuo placed the peeled crab claws into his bowl. “Eat.”

Setting aside that minor incident, the meal turned out to be quite enjoyable. The porridge was fresh and flavorful, and the side dishes were refreshing.

The gloom from the horror movie experience finally lifted. Bai Xi accompanied Han Zhuo back to the mall, planning to buy a birthday gift for Aunt Li’s granddaughter. However, as they passed by the cinema, they coincidentally ran into director Mark Li— he was squatting forlornly at the entrance, gazing enviously at moviegoers streaming out after watching a Hollywood blockbuster. Clutched in his hands were crumpled Hawthorn movie tickets he couldn’t give away, his eyes reddened as if on the brink of tears.