Chapter 67: The Deity

Chapter 67: The Deity

The winter night wind carried snow particles, Xie Guiluan tightly wrapped himself around Cen Wu, his cold and hard knuckles pressing against Cen Wu's thin back. Even through the down jacket, Cen Wu could feel the force of Xie Guiluan's grip.

"Mmm..." Cen Wu gasped for air, his tongue numb and sore from the kiss, and he pinched Xie Guiluan hard.

Xie Guiluan sucked on his tongue, slightly releasing him, panting, the veins on his neck still throbbing. His dark, deep peach blossom eyes were fixed on Cen Wu, filled with an overwhelming obsession.

Cen Wu: "..."

This is a bit excessive. Who gets this addicted to kissing?

Xie Guiluan lowered his head to lick Cen Wu's lips, his cool tongue brushing against them. Xie Guiluan's Adam's apple bobbed anxiously, and he asked in a hoarse voice, "Brother, do you like me?"

"I don't..." Cen Wu struggled, but before he could finish, Xie Guiluan sealed his lips again with a hot, entangled kiss, filled with a monstrous, sinking desire.

Xie Guiluan's lips pressed against his, not moving away, as he whispered, "Can I be your boyfriend?"

Cen Wu refused.

His mouth was blocked.

He refused again.

His mouth was blocked again.

Cen Wu: "..."

You're unstoppable, bro.

If it's something you don't want to hear, you won't listen at all. Go ahead, kiss me to death.

In the cold, silent winter night, beside the gradually dimming Christmas tree and lights, Xie Guiluan wrapped Cen Wu in his long black down jacket.

Cen Wu's face was mostly hidden, and passersby could only see a tall boy hunched over, kissing the person in his arms, his Adam's apple moving as he swallowed, his ears red, like a young, handsome wolf with a vicious streak, refusing to let go, making the snowy night even more sensual and chaotic.

Cen Wu was forced to tilt his head back, swallowing Xie Guiluan's spit. Whenever he tried to push Xie Guiluan's tongue away, Xie Guiluan would entangle it with his own. Cen Wu felt like he couldn't contain the flood of saliva.

His legs trembled, a shame akin to losing control, and he could only swallow it down, his snow-white cheeks flushed crimson.

You're such a pervert. Can't you just kiss normally?

Xie Guiluan finally let go after kissing him to his heart's content, licking his own reddened lips. His long eyelashes framed his dark peach blossom eyes as he stared at Cen Wu's lips.

Cen Wu thought he was about to make some profound statement, but Xie Guiluan just kissed him again, his voice low and hoarse, "I want to kiss you."

Cen Wu: "..."

Cen Wu refused to let him kiss anymore, but Xie Guiluan wouldn't let go. Struggling only made it easier for Xie Guiluan to kiss him, so Cen Wu simply hugged Xie Guiluan, burying his face in Xie Guiluan's chest.

Then Xie Guiluan lowered his head and kissed the top of Cen Wu's black hair.

Cen Wu: "..."

I surrender!

Xie Guiluan held him tightly, nuzzling his ear. Cen Wu was completely wrapped up, his eyes closed, the night sky heavy with falling snow, and the sound of Xie Guiluan's rapid, strong heartbeat filling his ears.

Cen Wu held on for a while, finally taking advantage of Xie Guiluan's inattention, he forcefully pressed his forehead against Xie Guiluan's chest. Xie Guiluan was slightly swayed by the impact, and Cen Wu, covering his reddened forehead, quickly pushed him away and ran off.

Xie Guiluan's arms were left empty, and the cold winter night wind blew over, making him look like a big, sad dog left out in the snow, pitiful.

Cen Wu turned his head to wait for him, and Xie Guiluan smiled, then walked towards him without hesitation.

They were along the riverside, on a deep winter night, the river surface had already frozen thickly, covered with a layer of snow, the lights reflecting on it, making it look warm yet somewhat lonely.

Cen Wu leaned on the railing by the river, Xie Guiluan walked up behind him, and wrapped him in a down jacket again.

Cen Wu kicked him, elbowed his stomach, making his back sweat.

But Xie Guiluan's arms were still wrapped around his waist, burying his head in Cen Wu's neck, his cold lips brushing against it for a kiss.

Cen Wu: "..."

Enough!!!

He thought Xie Guiluan should be hospitalized, probably suffering from some serious skin hunger, he would die if he didn't hold him.

Cen Wu completely gave up, when Xie Guiluan hugged him, he raised his hands to let Xie Guiluan hug him, when Xie Guiluan kissed him, he passively let him kiss, and was kissed several times.

Xie Guiluan rested his chin on Cen Wu's head, looking at the brightly lit bridge across the river in the distance, suddenly said, "Didn't you want to scream?"

Cen Wu turned his head.

"Now scream," Xie Guiluan brushed aside the black hair that almost fell to the tip of Cen Wu's nose, his palm brushing over Cen Wu's cheek, "No one can see you; they'll think it's me yelling."

Cen Wu was a bit tempted by his words, his lips trembled, but he couldn't make a sound after holding it in for a long time.

Xie Guiluan didn't rush him, holding his hand, caressing his fingers one by one, as if caressing a cherished doll, wanting to kiss and touch upon seeing.

Cen Wu held it in for half an hour, then let out a trembling scream, but the sound wasn't loud, like a weak meow.

His mind was buzzing, embarrassed, unsure if his voice had cracked, he turned his head and pushed Xie Guiluan, his ears red, saying, "Let's... let's go."

But Xie Guiluan held him still, "Wait."

"What... what's wrong?" Cen Wu said.

Xie Guiluan's thin red lips curved, he held Cen Wu's hand, pressed it against his own abs, forcing him to touch himself.

Cen Wu could almost feel the suppressed rise and fall of his abs through the sweater, his fingertips curled up as if burned, then he heard Xie Guiluan's hoarse and wicked voice, saying to him, "Can't leave now, people will see."

Cen Wu: "........"

Go to hell!

"You... you you you," Cen Wu's face flushed red, feeling that Xie Guiluan was full of flirtatiousness, making him not know where to look, angrily scolded, "Can't you just... control yourself?!"

"Can't," Xie Guiluan chuckled lowly, shamelessly and annoyingly said, "It's been over half an hour already."

Cen Wu's blood rushed up, he looked at the river beside him, unfortunately it was frozen, otherwise he would have wanted to drag Xie Guiluan down with him, he stuttered, "I'll... I'll choke you."

"You wouldn't dare," Xie Guiluan's peach blossom eyes curved, his lips also curved, his voice particularly deep and pleasant in the snowy night, shamelessly said, "I know you love me."

Cen Wu's eyes wandered.

Xie Guiluan's skin was cold white, his eyes dark as if soaked in water, deep and sharp, only his thin lips were red, a cold and handsome face, he reached out and pinched the soft flesh of Cen Wu's cheeks, forcing Cen Wu to tilt his head up slightly, meeting his gaze.

He was half a head taller than Cen Wu, naturally towering over him, and Cen Wu inexplicably trembled, his cheeks tightly clenched.

Xie Guiluan must have been lying to him about the puppy thing. Xie Guiluan, with his controlling nature, would only make him act like a puppy if they were together.

He didn’t want to be anyone’s dog.

But as the snow gradually stopped, the thin clouds parted to reveal moonlight, reflecting in Xie Guiluan’s deep, cold eye sockets. Cen Wu noticed that his gaze was gentle, mirroring his own small figure.

The moonlight bathed them.

Even Xie Guiluan seemed as distant and serene as the moon in the sky.

Cen Wu stared into his eyes and suddenly remembered that the night his parents passed away, there had been no moon.

He had known since he was young that his parents were very busy, but they were extraordinary people doing remarkable work.

His father’s movies moved audiences to tears, and Cen Wu often saw their posters when passing by cinemas. His mother’s dance performances abroad were always sold out.

They told him that when he grew up, he could do anything he loved.

At the time, Cen Wu was two or three years old, clutching a small rabbit plushie, innocent and only knowing how to suck his thumb. But he thought what they said must be something good, so he hoped they could do what they loved too, and he began to learn how to grow up.

Cen Wu was actually quite timid. He was afraid of the dark, but he still insisted on sleeping alone.

At night, he would huddle under the blanket, hugging his little bear and rabbit, curling into a small ball, with most of his face covered by the blanket, leaving only a pair of large, dark eyes exposed.

He always felt like monsters were watching him, so he would tug on the rabbit’s ears to threaten them, whispering fearfully, “My mom and dad will come catch you, you can’t eat me.”

He tucked his soft little feet neatly under the blanket, afraid that leaving them exposed would let the monsters get him.

When his parents asked him, “Wuwu, do you miss us?” he would say, “I don’t miss you, I can handle myself.”

His whole body was soft, but his mouth was defiant.

Later, when the family went bankrupt, his grandfather couldn’t handle the blow and passed away within a few months. His parents borrowed a lot of money, humbling themselves everywhere, while still managing their film projects.

He didn’t want to burden them further.

By then, they had moved to an old, rundown neighborhood. His mother worried that debt collectors might come knocking, but he said it was fine, though deep down, he was terrified.

He clung to his little bear, while the doors of the old house creaked and banged in the night wind.

When he was too scared, he would take out his phone and listen to the automated reply his mother had set up, her gentle voice saying, “Mommy’s here.” It felt like he was falling asleep in her arms, warm enough to fend off any cold, and the night felt peaceful.

The night his parents died, they called him, saying they were done with work and could come home. “Wuwu, do you miss us?” Tears had already fallen, but he wiped them away.

Afraid they would be too tired driving back at night, he forced a stern tone and said, “No, why would I miss you? So annoying.”

He heard his parents laugh on the other end, and his mother said, “Then can I miss you?”

Then she hung up with a laugh.

At the time, he didn’t know those were the last words he would ever say to them. That night, he couldn’t sleep, staying up late before finally dozing off, only to be woken up shortly after by Lu Jian.

Lu Jian was his father’s apprentice. His father had asked Lu Jian to look after him when he had time, so he had given Lu Jian a key to their house.

Lu Jian shook him awake, and when Cen Wu opened his eyes, he saw Lu Jian’s tear-streaked face, saying, “Master and Madam were in a car accident.”

Cen Wu didn’t know how he and Lu Jian made it to the hospital. That night, there were no stars or moon, just a heavy, oppressive darkness, and his world collapsed.

Cen Wu met his aunt at the hospital, and his uncle and cousin also came. His aunt hugged him and cried, while his uncle comforted them beside her.

At first, Cen Wu didn't cry. His throat felt parched, and he asked his aunt in a daze, "Can't they be saved anymore?"

His aunt, with tears streaming down her face, was unable to speak. His uncle shook his head at him. Cen Wu's eyes turned red, and tears suddenly fell.

At that time, his family had no money left. Everything that could be used to repay debts had been taken. His father had invested heavily in a movie called *Hurricane*, hoping it would make money and cover all the debts. But now, they were left with nothing but despair.

His aunt and uncle paid for his parents' funeral.

On the day of the funeral, the weather was gloomy, and it was raining. His aunt knelt and sat in front of his parents' grave, while he held a black umbrella, standing behind her to shield her from the rain.

His aunt, Cen Rong, wiped her tears. Her mother had passed away early, and her father, who raised her and her brother, was always busy.

She had practically been raised by her brother, Cen Shen—Cen Wu's father. Later, when Cen Shen got married, Cen Wu's mother also treated her very well and took care of her.

After her father passed away, she fell in love with her current husband, who was also an orphan. He wasn't well-off, but he worked hard and treated her well.

Cen Shen had bought them a house for their marriage.

She was more than a decade younger than her brother, so the age gap was significant. Though they were her brother and sister-in-law, they were more like parents to her.

Now, they too were gone. In this world, apart from her husband and child, Cen Wu was her only remaining family.

Cen Wu was thirteen that year. At the beginning of the year, his grandfather had passed away, and in the middle of the year, his parents died in a car accident, leaving behind heavy debts.

To repay the debts, his uncle had sold their house and used almost all their savings. They had hoped that once the movie was finished, it would at least help them avoid a life of hiding from creditors. No one had expected such an outcome.

His aunt and uncle took him home. They had also moved, relocating to a very old and dilapidated house.

Cen Wu didn't inherit any assets, and by law, he wasn't responsible for the debts. But the amount owed was too large, and creditors kept hounding them.

They splattered chicken blood on their door, knocked on their door in the middle of the night, harassed his aunt and uncle at their workplaces, and even threatened them. Calling the police didn't help—the creditors would just be detained for a few days and then released.

Some people who had no connection to them and hadn't lent them any money also came to demand repayment. They banged on the door in the middle of the night, shouting, "Are all the Cens dead? Where's Cen Shen's son?!"

Cen Wu's lips turned pale. His aunt and uncle instructed him to stay in the bedroom and not venture out. His cousin also comforted him, saying, "It's okay, we're here." But Cen Wu, peeking through the door, saw his aunt being slapped and his uncle being beaten, his head bleeding.

Cen Wu's slender fingers trembled. He was scared and filled with guilt, unsure of what he could do.

Until one night, he opened a notebook.

Six-year-old Xie Guilan already knew how to write many characters. That night, Chen Weiguo was going crazy outside, kneeling on the ground and violently beating Song Lingwei.

Little Xie Guilan's expression was cold and determined. He gripped his pen and wrote two words in his notebook: *Brave, brave*.

Then he put down the pen, walked to the living room, picked up a wine bottle, and smashed it hard onto Chen Weiguo's head.

Chen Weiguo was already drunk and disoriented. Even though little Xie Guilan wasn't very strong, the blow knocked him out.

Song Lingwei, her face covered in tears, hugged Xie Guilan and cried. In those desperate days, holding Xie Guilan felt like holding onto hope. She was waiting for Xie Guilan to grow up and take her away.

Xie Guilan always managed to save her from the depths of despair, time and time again.

Cen Wu picked up a pen and wrote in his notebook: *Brave, brave*. Then he stood up, ignoring his cousin's attempts to stop him, and walked toward the door. The young boy's figure was thin but upright.

He placed a hand on his aunt's shoulder and went out to face the creditors, saying, "I am Cen Shen's son."

The few people who came tonight had never actually lent money to his family. They simply saw the Cen family's downfall and wanted to exploit the situation. If his aunt and uncle wanted to avoid trouble, they would give them a few hundred dollars.

Those people stared at Cen Wu. The boy was too slender and pale, and a few of them almost laughed out loud.

They thought Cen Wu was going to give them money.

But Cen Wu lifted his head, his striking eyes icy cold, and his lips moved as he said, "I have no money. Leave now."

The other party was stunned for a moment, not expecting Cen Wu to dare to stand up to them. They immediately became furious and rushed forward to hit him, but as they charged, they realized Cen Wu was holding a kitchen knife.

Cen Wu didn't know how to fight at the time. He just swung the knife recklessly. The others weren't entirely committed to getting money, and the amount they wanted might not even cover the medical expenses if they got injured.

Realizing Cen Wu would rather die than pay, they gave up and left cursing, never to return.

At the age of seven, Xie Guiluan killed that devil on a rainy night. He never wrote those childish words in his notebook again.

But Cen Wu put away that notebook. He stopped running away. He began to accept that his parents were gone, to accept the debts they left behind. He still had family in this world.

He had to keep going.

His aunt was a nurse, and his uncle was a high school teacher, a mild-mannered and cultured man who loved his aunt dearly. At first, he was very kind to Cen Wu, as was his cousin, who also took good care of him.

But as time went on, with the endless debt collection, his uncle was gossiped about at school, and his cousin was taunted, "Does your family owe people money? I heard someone jumped off a building because of you."

The company's collapse ruined many people. One of the shareholders, who thought Cen Shen could surely turn things around, had invested heavily to save the company.

But Cen Shen died, and his efforts were in vain. In despair, he climbed to the rooftop of Cen Wu's grandfather's jewelry company, intending to jump, but was fortunately saved before anything serious happened.

Cen Wu's grandfather was a jewelry tycoon, and the bankruptcy was already sensational. His parents' deaths made it even more so. The media rushed to cover it, and rumors circulated endlessly.

Some rumors were outlandish, suggesting his parents had staged their deaths to dodge debts, or that his grandfather had blood on his hands from his days in Hong Kong's underworld, and this was his retribution. Ashamed and unable to face others, people's attitudes shifted. His uncle grew colder toward him, and his cousin no longer wanted to see him.

Cen Wu's health wasn't great. One night, he fell ill with a fever, his small face pale and haggard. His aunt stayed by his side and suddenly saw his lips move. She leaned down and heard him calling for his mother.

"Mom," Cen Wu murmured in his feverish haze, his eyelashes wet, his nose flaring slightly, his voice hoarse and small, trembling faintly, "I want to eat lychees."

Three days before his parents died, his father had actually passed by their house, but Cen Wu was at school at the time.

He was too busy to visit Cen Wu. Knowing his son loved lychees, he skipped dinner to save money and bought a bag of lychees to leave at home. He then texted, "By the time you finish these, Dad and Mom should be back."

Cen Wu knew they were short on money and must have skipped meals to buy the lychees for him. He couldn't bear to eat them and put them in the fridge, wanting to wait until they returned to eat them together. Only when he couldn't resist would he sneak one.

Then the accident happened. After the funeral, he returned home to find the lychees had gone bad, rotten and moldy. Thus began the long, sorrowful years of his life.

"Auntie will go buy some for you," his aunt said, wiping her tears, and went out at three in the morning to buy lychees.

It was a cold winter night, and she braved the snow. By the time she got home, her hands were red from the cold. She peeled one and fed it to Cen Wu.

Cen Wu, burning with fever, his eyes rimmed with a sickly red, wasn't fully awake, but tears inexplicably streamed down his face. The lychee in his mouth tasted salty from his tears.

Her hands felt soft and tender, reminiscent of his mother's touch.

His uncle, hearing his aunt go out, woke up. When she returned from his bedroom, they had a fight. "How much money do we have left? You go out to buy these things," he said.

Cen Wu vaguely heard their argument.

His uncle used to be young and romantic, deeply in love with his aunt. They were high school sweethearts, and even after many years of marriage, they were like young lovers. But now, he began to resent her.

It was snowing in winter. His aunt loved roses, but with their financial situation, she couldn't afford them. One evening, while picking him up from school, they passed a rose stall. Her gaze lingered for a few seconds before she looked away, took his arm, and asked him what he wanted for dinner.

Cen Wu pressed his lips together. The next day at school, he earned ten yuan by helping classmates with their homework and then bought her a rose.

Auntie was overjoyed when she received it. The snow was heavy that night, and under the light, Cen Wu noticed the fine lines at the corners of her eyes, but she was as happy as a teenage girl.

It was as if she were still in high school, living with her brother and sister-in-law, and could see them every night when she came home.

Why must life have separations?

After they got home, Auntie arranged the rose in a vase, but when her husband saw it, they had another argument. The usually mild-mannered man looked quite fierce when he argued.

Cen Wu didn't mind that his uncle was unkind to him now, after all, he had really caused them a lot of trouble.

But he felt he should leave, maybe he shouldn't have come in the first place, otherwise they wouldn't have come to this point.

Staying at his aunt's house, he would spend his aunt and uncle's money. His grades were still good, but his cousin, because of the debt chasing, couldn't hold his head up at school, and his grades plummeted.

He had lost everything, but Cen Wu remained unchanged, and his mother continued to treat him well.

Cen Wu could sense his cousin's resentment—staying in his home, taking over his parents, and ruining his life.

On his birthday, Auntie bought him a cake, and because of this cake, his uncle had another argument with her. Cen Wu decided to move out and live at school.

It wasn't his home to begin with, he shouldn't have stayed so long, everyone had become more unfortunate because of him.

He could continue to help classmates with their homework, hand out flyers on the street, he could always find a way to earn money.

But Auntie firmly opposed his decision, refusing to let him leave, and even lost her temper with him for the first time in years.

Cen Wu, now fifteen, had matured slightly, with striking eyes like cold mist and a pale complexion that gave him an aloof air. He frowned and said to her, "I've had enough, do you think I really want to stay at your house? I have my own parents, why should I live with you?"

Auntie was stunned, her eyes red, and she didn't stop him anymore.

Cen Wu moved out just like that, but the debt collectors had been hounding them for two or three years. Auntie worked as a nurse at the hospital, always on night shifts, and he was worried, afraid she might be cornered at night.

Every night, he waited for her to finish her night shift, secretly followed her home, and only then returned to his dormitory.

When Cen Wu was sixteen, Lu Jian asked him to make a movie together, and brought along some old members of his father's team. After leaving his father's team and stepping down from the set of a top director, they hadn't been doing well due to some conflicts within the industry.

Lu Jian wasn't very adept at handling responsibilities, and he was also quite young, so Cen Wu took charge of the entire crew and made the movie "Butterfly."

The crew's actors were mostly film academy students, and Cen Wu also recruited a few skilled supporting actors.

They filmed in very cold places on snowy days, and when the lead actress fell ill at night, he carried her to the hospital.

The crew was strapped for cash; he barely ate, but he ensured the actors and staff had good meals.

Everyone knew their director was very young, always with a cold face, and very harsh when scolding, but no one wanted to leave. Cen Wu, young and thin, became their backbone.

If anything happened, just look for Director Cen.

Their crew was small and shabby, ostracized in the film city, couldn't get investments, and were kicked out of places.

But when Cen Wu's face turned cold, no one dared to be discouraged, they all knew Cen Wu would surely make it happen.

Cen Wu was actually quite nervous, even fearful during his first interview, but his youthful, stoic face betrayed no emotion. He wrote a few words on the title page of his script.

Brave, brave.

Lu Jian was really clumsy, many said he wasn't fit to be a director, but his master didn't despise him, still kept him by his side to teach, even after his master left, he still hadn't improved.

After the evening shoot, almost everyone from the crew had left, and he sat on the set, secretly shedding tears.

Cen Wu hadn’t left yet; he was editing the footage by himself late into the night. Having stayed up too long, his health wasn’t great.

A coat draped over his shoulders, his black hair and pale skin gave him a somewhat sickly appearance. He said to Lu Jian, "Stand up. No crying."

Lu Jian wiped his eyes, this time not listening to him. He didn’t stand up and continued to cry.

"Then get out," Cen Wu snapped, his icy eyes and harsh tone cutting through the air. "You’re useless, just sitting here. What are you even doing in this position?"

Lu Jian’s face flushed with embarrassment and paled from the scolding. He stood up, determined to prove himself, still crying, sobbing loudly, and followed Cen Wu to learn editing.

Cen Wu had a strikingly cold, beautiful face, calm and icy like a wisp of mist. Lu Jian almost forgot that Cen Wu was seven years younger than him, as Cen Wu was always so fierce.

Years later, after Cen Wu was gone, Lu Jian finally understood that Cen Wu had only ever wanted to help him.

He didn’t understand Cen Wu as well as Cen Wu’s parents did. To understand Cen Wu, you could never just listen to what he said or even sometimes watch what he did. If he loved you, and you were willing to feel it, you could always sense it.

After the release of his first movie, Cen Wu began repaying his debts in small, sporadic amounts. Many of his parents’ friends didn’t want to see him, thinking he was there to borrow money again.

During a cold, snowy winter, Cen Wu was shoved outside a door and only let in after knocking repeatedly.

Cen Wu was shivering from the cold, thinking at that moment that he never wanted to owe money again, didn’t want to owe anyone anything.

"The Butterfly" exploded in popularity, and the media couldn’t get enough of interviewing Cen Wu. His father was a famous director, and his mother was also well-known. The Cen family’s past was tumultuous, and almost every interview had reporters asking Cen Wu about it.

At that year’s film festival, a reporter confronted Cen Wu aggressively, "Director Cen, when your parents owed so much debt, didn’t they leave any inheritance? And I heard your mother had a pension. Didn’t you use that money to repay the debts? After all, many people who helped you ended up in dire straits..."

Cen Wu looked up, his pale skin accentuating the coldness of his thin red lips. His eyes met the reporter’s, and he said with a smile, "You’ll know when you die once. Do you want me to help you?"

The media erupted in outrage, later vilifying him in their reports. Cen Wu offended several media outlets, and the more popular his movie became, the worse his reputation got, but his fans became even more fanatical, creating a stormy atmosphere.

His father had a close old friend who had lent them tens of millions of yuan years ago and had taken care of him after his parents passed away, but suddenly lost contact a few years ago.

Cen Wu thought he was avoiding him like others, and he didn’t want to burden him, so he cut off contact.

After earning some money, he managed to find the man’s contact information and sent a message, wanting to repay part of the debt.

But the man never replied.

Cen Wu sent another message: "Uncle, I’m here to repay the money, not borrow. Can you share your current address?"

Still no reply. Cen Wu found out the address through other means and went there at night. The man’s daughter opened the door, her face turning cold upon seeing him.

"Hello," Cen Wu said, pursing his lips, having gone through this many times, but still nervous every time he went to repay debts. "I’m looking for Uncle Zhang."

The daughter’s eyes suddenly reddened, and she said with a hint of hatred, "My dad is dead."

Cen Wu was stunned.

The man had lent tens of millions to Cen Wu’s parents in an emergency. After Cen Wu’s parents passed away, his company suddenly ran into trouble, couldn’t cover the debt, the funding chain broke, and he was on the verge of bankruptcy overnight.

He struggled for a year, didn’t see a turnaround, and was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Not wanting to bankrupt his family for treatment, he gave up, sold the company, and left the money to his wife and daughter.

The daughter’s eyes were red, looking at Cen Wu, and suddenly she slapped him.

"Nannan!" Her mother was shocked and quickly scolded her.

Cen Wu’s throat tightened. He hadn’t even known—he hadn’t even been there for the uncle’s funeral.

Cen Wu softly said sorry, placed the bank card on the nearby cabinet, and then turned to walk downstairs.

Under the dim light of the late night, as Cen Wu reached the bottom of the stairs, the girl chased after him, hugged him, and with tears streaming down her face, she trembled and apologized, saying how much she missed her father.

Cen Wu held her, patted her head, and felt a pang of sorrow in his chest. He then escorted her back home before leaving.

The number of people around him was dwindling. As he walked home, he looked up and noticed the moon in the sky.

Suddenly, he remembered a scene from a book where Ji Changyu asked Xie Guiluan, "Why are you so tired and still haven't given up?"

It was also a night with a high moon. Xie Guiluan looked up at the moon, paused, and said, "I will keep moving forward."

Cen Wu's steps didn't stop either. The moon kept moving forward, and he followed it.

He used only half of the money he earned from the movie *Butterfly* to pay off his debts. It was a love story, and it took some time from its release to its sudden popularity. He needed more money to pay off his debts, so he had to continue filming *Hurricane*, a project left by his father.

He invested the rest into *Hurricane*, kept filming, and gradually paid off his debts.

At the age of twenty-one, he directed another film of his own and won the Best Director award at the Berlin Film Festival.

When he stepped onto the stage to accept the award, the lights highlighted his still striking, cool eyes, now slightly misty.

He thanked all the actors and staff as per tradition, then looked up and seemed to see someone sitting in the corner of the audience, holding a bouquet of flowers. It was a couple, smiling and waving at him, their faces unchanged from years ago.

He had grown up, but they hadn't changed.

Cen Wu's eyes moistened, and his lips moved as if to say, "I miss you, I really want to see you again."

But he couldn't say it.

If he did, he wouldn't be able to hold on any longer.

Cen Wu closed his eyes for a moment, tears not falling, and after finishing his thank-you speech, he left the stage.

He hadn't kept in close contact with his aunt over the years, only transferring money to her every month. At first, she refused, but he insisted it was to repay her for the expenses during his stay at her house.

His aunt seldom reached out to him on her own, but every year on his birthday, she would wish him a happy birthday, and when his movies were released, she would send him an encouraging emoji.

This time, after the film festival ended, he hadn't received any messages from his aunt. Cen Wu transferred money to her, but she didn't accept it.

Cen Wu's heart dropped. He rushed back to the country overnight and went to his aunt's house, only to find a wreath at the door.

"Your aunt passed away a few nights ago," his uncle, who seemed to have aged several years overnight, said, rubbing his face. "It was sudden, but peaceful, without much suffering."

Cen Wu stood stunned in front of her portrait for a long time.

A few days later, he attended his aunt's funeral. After the funeral, his cousin stopped him and said he wanted to talk. They went to a restaurant.

"You must take responsibility for her death," his cousin, looking haggard, said to him. "She's been too tired these past few years."

Only then did Cen Wu learn that his aunt had discovered him following her home every night. Worried about him being alone at school and fearing someone might trouble him, she had also been following him. One night, she even encountered debt collectors.

"He's just a child," his aunt had said, tears in her eyes, to the leader of the debt collectors. "He has no money. If you want money, come to me, I'll give it to you."

But she only had a couple of hundred yuan on her. After the debt collectors took it, they impatiently pushed her, causing her to fall and twist her ankle. After they left, she wiped her tears, got up, and limped home, leaning on her bicycle.

She had always kept a watchful eye on him, concerned and protective, knowing he was making movies, and couldn't sleep at night, fearing he might be bullied. But when she picked up her phone, she didn't know how to ask.

She would also go to the cinema to watch his movies, every single one. Before the Berlin Film Festival, she had written a long WeChat message, planning to send it to him after the festival ended.

His cousin handed the phone to Cen Wu, who took it and saw a message from his aunt:

"Auntie knows how hard you've been working and that you'll surely win an award. You've done well, my dear. If you're tired, come home. Auntie is going to divorce him, not because of you, but because it's just not working anymore. He really isn't the person Auntie knew back then.

..."

After Cen Wu left, her relationship with her husband didn't improve, but after so many years together, she couldn't bear to leave. That was until she went to the cinema and watched the movie "Butterfly."

"Butterfly" is a pseudo-sibling romantic triangle film where the female lead, fostered in the male lead's home, falls in love with him, her nominal brother.

The male lead is portrayed as a playboy, and they are entangled for many years until the female lead finally decides to break up with him.

The ending is on a snowy night. After saying goodbye to the male lead, she wipes away her tears and runs ahead, unintentionally arriving at their high school.

On this snowy night, it seems she sees the boy from over a decade ago, waving at her at the school gate, with a mischievous smile, calling her "little sister," and saying, "Why aren't you coming over? It's time to go home."

She used to run over and throw herself into his arms, sitting on the back of his bicycle to go home.

But this time, she runs forward without stopping, passing him by. She once truly loved him, and so did he, but she has to say goodbye and start a new life.

In the end, the female lead ends up with the second male lead.

"Auntie is moving on too. Thank you for giving Auntie the courage to end this relationship. Auntie loves you and misses you. Come home. When you come back, Auntie will be waiting for you at home."

But she has already passed away. Cen Wu realizes he is once again without a home. He looks up, his eyes red.

His cousin wanted to get back at him by showing him this, but seeing Cen Wu's red eyes, Cousin suddenly shed a few tears as well.

It's hard to say whose fault it is. It seems like no one is at fault, but fate is just like this. The butterfly's wings fluttered a few times, and the storm never ceased.

Cen Wu forwarded the WeChat message to his own phone, then went to buy a bouquet of red roses. He drove to the cemetery, placed the roses in front of his aunt's tombstone, and stood there for a long time.

Unable to hold on, he squatted down and leaned against the tombstone, staying with her.

Until his legs started to ache, he finally got up and walked home. The night still had a moon.

He suddenly recalled the movie's ending. On a deep winter night, Xie Guiluan wore a black coat, and the moonlight shone down. His footsteps never stopped as he walked forward.

This time, Cen Wu's footsteps gradually came to a halt. Xie Guiluan is brave and resilient, a moon that he can look up to, but Cen Wu is actually very timid—afraid of ghosts, the dark, pain, and people leaving him. There's nothing he isn't afraid of.

When he got home that night, he lay down and fell asleep, then had a dream. In the dream, he was only three or four years old, waiting at the film set for his parents to finish shooting and take him home.

His parents held his hands, occasionally lifting him up, and he would dangle his feet in the air.

But as they walked, they suddenly got separated. He hugged his teddy bear, anxiously looking for his mom.

Hearing his voice, his mom quickly turned around and walked towards him, then crouched down and opened her arms. The night sky reflected her gentle smile as she said, "Mom's here."

He ran towards her, reaching out to hug her, but everything disappeared. The night sky was left with only a shimmering moon.

He wasn't at the film set anymore; it seemed like he was by a river. On the other side, he saw his grandfather, his face full of wrinkles.

He wanted to say, "Grandpa, why have you aged again?" Then he saw his parents there too, and that uncle as well. His aunt ran over from afar, waving at him, and he waved back.

He never got to say goodbye to them, always speaking insincerely, never expressing himself properly. With tears streaming down his face, he apologized to them.

Then he ran towards them, wanting to say, "I miss you so much. I really want to see you again. Why..."

Cen Wu was awakened by a phone call from Lu Jian. When he opened his eyes, he found himself already in tears.

"Director Cen," Lu Jian said to him, "Did I wake you? About our movie..."

Cen Wu's lips moved, his voice was hoarse and strained, "I... I... no..."

Lu Jian noticed something was wrong with his voice and asked worriedly, "Director Cen? What's wrong, Director Cen?"

Cen Wu heard something shatter, the suppressed pain surged up like a tidal wave, tearing his throat, and he couldn't form a complete sentence.

Cen Wu stayed at home for three days without any improvement. He didn't want to see anyone, and over time, he became afraid of meeting people.

He opened that book again, which he had flipped through countless times, the pages were starting to fall out. At home, he practiced speaking in Xie Guiluan's style, because Xie Guiluan's lines were always short.

The night before Cen Wu was transported into the book, he was still reading it, and then suddenly, when he opened his eyes, he saw Xie Guiluan at the venue.

...

Cen Wu drank a little at night and got a bit drunk. Xie Guiluan noticed him staring blankly at him and rubbed his face.

Cen Wu suddenly reached out and hugged him.

"What's wrong?" Xie Guiluan was startled, holding him and asking.

Cen Wu shook his head. From the age of thirteen until his death, eight years, over two thousand days, he couldn't tell anyone, so when he felt lonely and scared, he always thought of Xie Guiluan.

Before he was transported into the book, his feelings for Xie Guiluan weren't romantic, but he truly loved Xie Guiluan, like a distant deity, a moon he would never reach in his lifetime, lighting his way and giving him the strength to rise each time.

Cen Wu hugged Xie Guiluan tightly, tears suddenly streaming down.

He wanted to hold Xie Guiluan, but Xie Guiluan was too tall to hold properly, so he could only hug him like this, touching Xie Guiluan's head as if it were an unripe watermelon.

He had walked the road home with him countless times, and this time, they finally reached the end.

"Xie Guiluan," Cen Wu looked at him, his eyes curved, his voice slightly choked, and said, "We can go home now."