dognovel Chapter 18 Why are you looking at me again?
Chapter 18 Why are you looking at me again?
Xu Yang turned his head and met her eyes.
She must have been rushing back to get her food; there was a thin layer of sweat on her forehead, and her face was flushed from the evening breeze.
"Almost finished writing." Xu Yang put down his pen and stretched his wrist.
"How was your rehearsal this afternoon?"
"It's alright, but Teacher Fang always complains that I kick too hard, saying I don't look like a female militia member at all, but more like a female tyrant who wants to fight someone one-on-one." Liu Xiaoli laughed as she finished speaking, her eyes crinkling.
Xu Yang imagined the scene and laughed along, "Then you'd better watch out next time, don't kick the stage through."
"You're just making fun of me." Liu Xiaoli rolled her eyes at him, turned around to open the lunchbox, and pointed to the brown paper package.
"That's what my third aunt asked me to bring to you. She said she found some old documents at work that might be useful to you."
Xu Yang opened the kraft paper package, inside were several outdated issues of the magazines "Film Literature" and "Script", as well as a mimeographed internal publication, "Literary War Report".
The paper was a little yellowed, but it was kept very flat, showing that He Hui had kept it carefully.
"Aunt Hui is so good to me." Xu Yang flipped through these publications, feeling genuinely touched.
These things weren't easy to come by back then, especially those internal publications, which were probably dug out of the Cultural Bureau's archives.
"She also told you not to rush to remember, to let things take their course." Liu Xiaoli repeated He Hui's words, then paused, her voice softening slightly.
"That's what I think too. It's okay if I can't remember, things are fine as they are now..."
When she said the last few words, her voice was so soft it was like a mosquito's buzz, but Xu Yang didn't miss a single one.
"Sister Xiaoli," he suddenly called out to her.
"Um?"
"Thank you."
Liu Xiaoli was taken aback for a moment, then smiled and said, "What are you thanking me for? You saved me. If anyone should be thanking someone, it should be me."
Xu Yang offered no explanation.
He wasn't thanking her for this one thing, but for the fact that she had been there for him from the moment he opened his eyes in the hospital.
Her worries, her care, her support, and the unconcealable things in her eyes were the warmest ray of light for him after arriving in this unfamiliar era.
The two laid out the food on the table. The aroma of braised pork mingled with the refreshing taste of stir-fried vegetables, and there was also a large bowl of egg drop soup.
Xu Yang ate with relish, while Liu Xiaoli sat opposite him, telling him interesting stories about the opera house as she ate.
"A new colleague joined us today. She's a girl who just transferred from the Shanghai Conservatory of Music. She's fair-skinned and pretty, but she speaks with a heavy Shanghai accent. She pronounces 'braised pork' as 'red sauerkraut meat,' which made the whole rehearsal hall laugh for ages."
As Xu Yang listened to her speak, his gaze remained fixed on her face.
She probably didn't notice that the sunset shone through the window, falling on half of her face and bathing her eyebrows and eyes in a very gentle golden light.
She paused for a moment when she noticed Xu Yang's gaze.
Why are you looking at me again?
"Because you're good-looking." When Xu Yang said this, his expression was so serious that it didn't seem like he was saying sweet words, but rather like he was stating an undeniable fact.
Liu Xiaoli's face flushed red again.
Why is this person like this? Every time, he says the most embarrassing things in the most serious tone, making people want to scold him but unable to find a reason to do so.
"I'm not talking to you anymore." She turned her face away, pretending to concentrate on eating, but the tips of her ears were so red they looked like they could bleed.
Xu Yang, knowing when to stop, changed the subject: "By the way, tomorrow is the propaganda team's assessment. Can you tell me about the assessment process so I can be prepared?"
Liu Xiaoli then turned around and said seriously, "I was just about to tell you about this. I asked my third aunt, and the assessment is at 2 pm in the small auditorium of the district cultural center. There are about ten people participating in the assessment, mostly educated youth who have returned to the city. The assessment has three rounds: a talent show, an impromptu performance, and a question-and-answer session."
"Improvisation?" Xu Yang put down his chopsticks; he hadn't known about this part before.
"Director Zhang Dahe will give you a task and ask you to perform something on the spot. It might be asking you to act out a role and say a few lines, or it might be asking you to choreograph a dance to a piece of music. In short, it's all about your on-the-spot reaction," Liu Xiaoli explained.
"But don't be nervous. I heard from my third aunt that Director Zhang Dahe has a very good impression of you. As long as you perform normally, you'll definitely be fine."
Xu Yang nodded, already thinking about which song he would sing.
After dinner, Liu Xiaoli went to the kitchen to wash the dishes. Xu Yang wanted to help, but she chased him away, saying, "You're a great writer, don't come into the kitchen and make trouble."
Helpless, Xu Yang could only lean against the kitchen doorway and watch her back.
She tossed her braid forward, rolled up her sleeves to her elbows, revealing two sections of her pale arms.
The tap was running, and she was washing the dishes very carefully, the clinking of the dishes was crisp and rhythmic.
"Sister Xiaoli."
"What now?"
"The script is finished. Would you like to take a look at it?"
Liu Xiaoli turned around and stopped what she was doing: "Really? So fast?" She quickly finished washing the dishes, dried her hands, and urged Xu Yang to take out the script.
The two returned to Xu Yang's room, where he opened a drawer and handed her the notebook filled with dense writing.
Liu Xiaoli took it, sat down at the desk, and turned on the desk lamp.
The dim light shone on the paper, casting her profile on the wall, her silhouette as soft and beautiful as a paper-cut painting.
She read it very carefully, word by word, occasionally whispering her lines as if savoring the weight of each word.
Xu Yang sat on the bed next to him, waiting quietly.
After watching about two scenes, Liu Xiaoli suddenly turned her head and said, "Xu Yang, the male lead's monologue is so well written!"
Which section?
"I know where I come from, and I also know where I'm going. My roots are in this land, just like the grass under my feet. Even if it withers in winter, it will grow back in spring." Liu Xiaoli's voice trembled slightly as she recited her lines, and her eyes sparkled.
"What were you thinking when you wrote this?"
Xu Yang remained silent for a while.
He couldn't tell her that these words were written by some amazing artist from another world.
All he can do is to bring these words back to life in this era and let them take root in the new age.
"I'm thinking about what true belonging is," he said thoughtfully. "It's not about where you were born, or what's written on your household registration. It's about what you choose, what you're willing to stay for, and where you're willing to put your roots."
Liu Xiaoli looked at him quietly, her gaze deep.
"And you?" she asked softly, "Have you found a sense of belonging?"