Chapter 54: Movie

The temperatures in June rose higher with each passing day.

Outside the villa, the cherry trees drooped their leaves, cicadas buzzed noisily among the branches, and the wind carried a dry, stifling heat, scattering the clouds across the sky without a hint of coolness.

In the study, a middle-aged man in a sleek black suit adjusted his glasses, nervously wiping sweat from his forehead. He set down the New Japanese Textbook he had been holding.

“Ruan-kun, that’s enough for now. Let’s take a ten-minute break before continuing with the study of the fifty sounds.”

The Japanese teacher, Fujino Kaito, spoke fluent Chinese, without hesitation or awkwardness. He saw the boy in front of him put down his pen, then glanced toward Ruan Suhua, working not far behind him. He gave her a brief smile, took up a cup of water, suppressed the tremor in his hands, and stepped out of the study.

Fujino Kaito was not an inexperienced teacher. On the contrary, he had years of teaching experience, adept at handling both naive beginners and demanding parents with equal poise.

However, this time his student was somewhat special.

Yu Zhu was a polite and handsome boy. Though he appeared physically fragile, his learning attitude and aptitude were impeccable.

Yet, due to certain reasons, he could not speak. Learning an entirely new language in such a condition naturally created obstacles. Fujino Kaito had to pronounce each kana with extreme clarity so that Yu Zhu could hear and memorize them as accurately as possible.

This wasn’t exactly difficult—he just needed to pay extra attention to pronunciation.

But in this luxurious study, facing a student with such meticulous focus and a guardian whose cold, emotionless gaze occasionally swept over him, he still felt a chill behind his back despite the scorching summer heat.

The idiom seemed apt… like “having thorns on one’s back.”

Fujino Kaito held his water cup, pondering. The maid guiding him stopped.

“Mr. Fujino, please rest here.”

“Thank you,” he replied.

In the study, Yu Zhu lowered his head to his textbook. Ruan Suhua closed the files she had been working on and walked to the seat Fujino Kaito had just vacated.

She reached out, holding Yu Zhu’s cold hand. Seeing his unusually serious expression, her heart fluttered slightly, like an insect’s tiny antenna brushing against her.

Ruan Suhua had studied Japanese herself years ago. Though the time was short, her strong language aptitude allowed her to become fluent enough to use Japanese as a second language when she later studied as an exchange student at Waseda University.

Yet, she still chose to hire another teacher.

Because she did not consider it her area of expertise.

Even though she was proficient, in front of Yu Zhu, she could not maintain the same detached, confident composure she did with others.

Even if she had the chance to relive her life, stand at the pinnacle of the future, and possess vision others could never reach, in front of him, she still felt inadequate.

Was it really because one liked someone that they always felt they were not doing enough?

She did not know.

But it was sweetly enjoyable.

Yu Zhu looked at her as she held his hand, saying nothing.

She seemed to cherish these moments of solitude, even if nothing was done.

“Knock knock…” Fujino Kaito, holding his cup, knocked on the door from outside. “Sorry, am I disturbing you?”

Ruan Suhua stood, moved aside, and released his hand. “It’s okay, Mr. Fujino. Please continue the lesson.” She returned to her desk.

“Very well.” Fujino Kaito set down his cup, picked up the textbook, and looked at the boy who had remained still since he left. “Ruan-kun, it’s time to continue our lesson.”

“Yes.”

Good.

Yu Zhu replied in writing.

He studied quietly. His learning aptitude surpassed Fujino Kaito’s expectations.

“Ruan-kun, you’re very smart. Perhaps we can speed up the pace a little.”

…

Unlike the half-hour counseling sessions earlier, the Japanese lesson lasted from 2:00 p.m. to 5:00 p.m.

During the last twenty minutes, after assigning homework, Fujino Kaito chatted with Yu Zhu in Chinese about Japanese customs and scenery.

He suggested that if Yu Zhu ever visited Japan, he could explore Nagano Prefecture: Ichida persimmons in autumn, cherry blossoms in Takato Castle during early spring—each season with its own charm.

Yu Zhu simply wrote it down, planning to visit Nagano if the opportunity arose.

Fujino Kaito, in high spirits, described the Suwa Lake fireworks festival held in two months, mentioning that he might return to Japan to photograph the event. He even showed Yu Zhu some past photos, introducing the festival’s grand scenes.

It was beautiful. Yu Zhu thanked him politely but didn’t write much down.

“Mr. Fujino, today’s lesson is finished,” Ruan Suhua reminded from beside him, smiling.

“Apologies, I got carried away and lost track of time. Ruan-kun, today’s lesson is over.” Fujino Kaito put away the photos, no longer nervously wiping sweat, calmly gesturing to both of them as he left the study.

Yu Zhu put away his textbook and notes. Ruan Suhua came back to stand before him.

At 5 p.m. in June, the sun still hung high, its light a bright, pale orange. A gentle breeze stirred the crisp blue-and-white curtains.

Ruan Suhua tied her light-blue hairband. No longer in the somewhat stiff business suit, she wore a pure white long-sleeve blouse paired with a dark green long skirt. Her long, fair ankles peeked out beneath the hem, giving her a youthful, scholarly look, like a pure, intellectual senior from school.

“Xihe, shall we watch a movie tonight?”

Her tone was just as soft as ever.

Yu Zhu had no objections.

“Do you have any movie in mind?”

He shook his head lightly.

Ruan Suhua suddenly laughed, a touch childlike. “I’m not good at picking movies. What if you fall asleep?”

“You won’t fall asleep.”

Yu Zhu had just picked up a piece of paper when Ruan Suhua leaned in, embracing him, her lips near his earlobe. That hint of a smile seemed to travel along the delicate veins to somewhere deeper.

“If you do fall asleep, I’ll wake you with a kiss.”

Over time, her words grew increasingly playful and childlike.

That night, she chose an indie Japanese film—The Last Letter.

The young heroine, dressed in a black-and-white uniform, awkwardly fiddled with threads under the dim green shade.

“I like this about her, I like that about her… in short, it expresses, ‘This is how much I like you.’”

In the film, the heroine said this to the male lead.

Outside the film, the screening room was dark and silent. Light points from the starry lamps sparkled on the ceiling like a sea of stars.

Yu Zhu sat on the sofa, the flickering light casting gentle shadows across his face, highlighting his already refined features.

He had never realized how captivating he was to others’ eyes.

Ruan Suhua moved closer, feeling his warmth, whispering softly:

“I like you.”

Yu Zhu turned his head toward her, eyes slightly puzzled in the shifting light.

He hadn’t heard clearly.

“I love you.”

She repeated it, no longer the slightly reserved affection of Japanese phrasing, but a direct, heartfelt confession in Chinese.

“Xihe, let’s not watch the movie.” Ruan Suhua’s breath was close to him.

Yu Zhu was not particularly surprised.

Most of the movies he had seen ended halfway through anyway.