Dragons begin with courage

The next few days felt like being immersed in a mixture of sugar water and lemon juice for Lu Mingfei. It was sickeningly sweet and sour that his teeth ached. His aunt's nagging was like background noise. Lu Mingfei mechanically nodded and responded with "uh-huh," "okay," and "I know," but his soul had already drifted to the riverbank overgrown with dandelions and to the dark screening room that would become the turning point in his destiny.

That evening, for some inexplicable reason, he didn't go downstairs. Instead, he climbed the stairs, one step at a time, up the stairs piled with discarded junk. Passing through the crack of the rusty iron gate marked "Rooftop Closed," he glided skillfully into the wider realm of night breeze and starlight, like a fish accustomed to living in narrow waters.

The world suddenly opened up overhead. The city's night sky, unusually free from the dominance of neon lights, revealed a few sparse yet remarkably determined stars. Below, the lights of countless homes flowed into a warm and distant orange ocean. The night breeze swept by without hindrance, dispelling the lingering somber atmosphere of the home downstairs that still clung to him.

He took a deep breath, the cool air filling his lungs, carrying the unique spaciousness and freedom of the rooftop. Where was the way out? He looked around blankly, seeing only the blurry outline of the city's steel jungle. But deep in his heart, the silhouette of another person emerged with unmistakable clarity, bathed in the afterglow of the setting sun, carrying a gentle sadness.

This afternoon, Chen Wenwen invited him to the riverbank. They sat on the soft green grass, the river flowing gently beside them, its water crystal clear. She took off her shoes and dipped her fair ankles into the cool water, creating ripples. She quietly picked many dandelions, carefully gathering the fuzzy seeds into a brown paper bag, saying she wanted to make specimens to press between the pages of a book.

"Once we go to university, we'll all go our separate ways." She gazed at the shimmering water of the river, her voice soft, as if afraid to disturb the tranquility. "We might only be able to meet briefly during winter and summer vacations, or... slowly, we'll lose touch. Many people we once thought were very important have drifted apart like this."

As she spoke, the setting sun cast a soft golden glow on her profile, her eyelashes casting small shadows on her eyelids. The sadness she expressed was so genuine, far more moving than any poignant poem she recited during her literary club activities.

Could this be a hint? A subtle farewell and invitation, belonging to the literary youth?

Lu Mingfei's heart pounded wildly in his chest. He remembered Chu Zihang's cold yet burning words sent across the ocean: courage. These two words were like a red-hot branding iron, searing into his cowardly soul.

The bathroom lights in Wanda Cinema were stark white. Lu Mingfei stared at his face in the mirror, flushed with nervousness, checking his appearance for the ninth time. His heart pounded in his ears, and he rehearsed in his mind: walk over, hand her the flowers, look into her eyes, say those words… Every step felt like walking a tightrope, allowing no room for error.

"I'm someone who goes crazy sometimes." — Ricardo M. Lu, who later became famous in Kassel as an "S"-class actor, would often use this seemingly casual remark to joke about some of his outrageous decisions. And the starting point of all this madness may have been in this small space filled with the smell of disinfectant.

The movie was about to start. The decisive moment was approaching. The touching sentences he had painstakingly pieced together from the internet rolled repeatedly on his tongue, almost burning him with their heat.

Lu Mingfei looked at himself in the mirror and nodded forcefully, almost ferociously, his eyes fierce, as if encouraging a soldier about to go into battle: "Mingfei! You can do it! You're amazing!"

"Lu Mingfei, what are you doing making faces here?" Zhao Menghua's voice suddenly came from the doorway.

Lu Mingfei froze, then, quick-witted, he exaggerated his facial expression even further, twisting his mouth and squinting his eyes, mimicking a clumsy comedic effect: "For some reason, my facial muscles are twitching. Let me move them around. Don't I look like Stephen Chow?"

Zhao Menghua sized him up and chuckled, "No, you look more like that bespectacled, goofy robot Arale." He tossed a paper bag to Lu Mingfei, "Here, your clothes. Change into them for your speech later. Chen Wenwen said it's a formal occasion, so dress appropriately."

Lu Mingfei took the bag. Inside was a well-pressed Korean-style black suit, a dazzling white shirt, and a simple black narrow tie. The size fit his slender frame perfectly. He had secretly longed for such an outfit, but his aunt had rejected it, deeming it "impractical." How did Chen Wenwen know? She actually remembered? And even prepared it especially for him?

An overwhelming, almost unreal sense of happiness slammed into the top of his head like a battering ram, causing him to almost lose his balance. All his doubts and anxieties were shattered by this irrefutable, gentle proof. The flame of hope suddenly burst into a raging inferno, burning him to a fever pitch.

"Hahahaha! Look! Whose suit did the monkey steal and put on?" Su Xiaoqiang's sharp voice was like a poisoned ice needle, piercing his eardrums unexpectedly and bursting the fragile bubble of happiness he had just built.

The literary society members, scattered in various corners, were drinking cola and munching on popcorn when they heard the sound and all turned around. Dozens of eyes focused on him, first startled, then bursting into unrestrained laughter. The laughter was sticky and scalding, carrying the cruelty unique to youth, instantly freezing him in place. Lu Mingfei's face first turned deathly pale, then quickly flushed an embarrassing purplish-red, burning hot.

However, just as he gathered all his courage and was about to unleash the words escaping his chest—

Swish!

A blindingly bright beam of light struck him from behind without warning, instantly engulfing him! The projector started! The intense light, like a solid wall, illuminated his entire body, revealing every detail and completely drowning out his voice.

"Hush—!" A chorus of discontented, urging hisses rose from the audience.

Lu Mingfei hurriedly raised his arm to shield his eyes, feeling both anxious and angry: "What the hell! I haven't even started yet! Did the projectionist get the time wrong?!"

A few seconds later, his eyes barely adjusted to the bright light, and his vision gradually cleared. Then, he was astonished to find that Xu Yanyan and Xu Miaomiao, the twins, had silently appeared beside him, one on the left and one on the right, like two door gods, their positions as precise as if measured with a ruler.

"What are you doing up here?" Lu Mingfei asked Xu Yanyan on his left in a low voice, sounding annoyed and confused.

Xu Yanyan turned her head, a kind of naive and indifferent expression on her chubby face, and replied in a low voice, "Extra."

Extras? Lu Mingfei was stunned and suddenly turned his head to look around. Only then did he realize with horror that a huge, crooked English letter "L" made of cardboard had appeared on his left, standing there comically and motionless.

The beam of light projected from the projector onto the screen did not project a movie image, but rather a huge line of characters composed of light and shadow!

The boos from the audience grew louder, mixed with impatient murmurs. Lu Mingfei panicked and, disregarding everything else, suddenly ran away from his position, rushing to a spot just a few meters from the screen and looking up.

On the screen, a short English sentence was displayed clearly:

"Chen Wen Wen, Lve, Yu!"

The grammar was strange, and the spelling was wrong, but Lu Mingfei recognized Chen Wenwen's name in pinyin at a glance. The two distorted words that followed... he didn't react for a moment, but a cold, ominous premonition had already coiled around his spine like a snake.

"Come back! Come back to your seat!" Xu Yanyan called out to him anxiously in a low voice, her chubby face even pleading. "Without you, this sentence doesn't make sense!"

Letters? What letters?

Lu Mingfei was struck dumb, turning around abruptly to look at the words again. At the same time, out of the corner of his eye, he finally caught sight of the figure on the other side of the stage—the one he had been deliberately ignoring.

Zhao Menghua.

Holding a large bouquet of intensely red roses, his face beaming with a triumphant smile, he stepped onto the stage with the confidence of a true protagonist, surrounded by his closest friends.

hum-

Lu Mingfei's ears were instantly filled with a sharp ringing. This time, he understood. He completely understood.

The blood in my body seemed to be drained in an instant and then filled with ice water. The chill started from my fingertips, spreading slowly but steadily upwards, freezing my arms, stiffening my chest, freezing my wildly beating heart, and finally rushing to the top of my head, even my brain seemed to freeze into ice shards. My knees, which ached from picking dandelions that afternoon, now throbbed with a clear, mocking dull pain.

Xu Yanyan and Xu Miaomiao are two round "o" shapes.

As for Lu Mingfei, he stood on the positioning point, his hands were empty, and he was wearing a suit that someone else had "given him"—the lowercase "i" that was just for decoration.

Taken together, it forms a complete, foolish, and cruel statement:

"Chen Wenwen, I love you!"

He is the most insignificant, most dispensable, and most laughable component of the word "love." He is a silent, prop-like "i" used to spell words in someone else's grand confession.

"Lu Mingfei, don't move! You're the most important 'i'!" Xu Yanyan and Xu Miaomiao, one on each side, used their strength, far exceeding Lu Mingfei's, to tightly clamp his arms, firmly fixing him in the position marked with the "i". The force was so great, carrying an undeniable coercion, that it completely cut off any possibility of his escape or resistance.

He was like a real lowercase "i", the "hat" representing dignity on his head had long been ruthlessly removed, leaving only a bare, withered, and humble upright bar, standing there to highlight the perfection and romance of others.

Despair washed over him like a black tide. Everything before his eyes began to blur and spin; the familiar and unfamiliar faces below the stage turned into distorted, swaying blocks of color. Whispers and low laughter blended into a cacophony of noise, washing away his last vestiges of consciousness.

Just as he was about to be completely swallowed by this cold shame and despair, and was about to close his eyes and let himself sink into boundless darkness—

A voice pierced through the barriers of time and space, like the light of a sword at dawn, cleaving open the chaos!

You have courage, I've seen it.

Chu Zihang's voice, calm, clear, and unquestionable, resounded deep within his mind.

But when and how you choose to go in is a decision you can make.

It wasn't as the letter "i" used to spell out a word, but as Lu Mingfei walking in!

Be brave, so you won't have regrets.

Regret? To stand here like a clown, becoming the backdrop of someone else's love story, and then spend the rest of your life with this shattered self-esteem? That's the biggest regret!

If luck isn't on your side, then use courage to buy on credit.

Screw luck! Screw arrangements!

"Get out of here!!!"

A roar, like the howl of a wounded lone wolf in dire straits, suddenly exploded from Lu Mingfei's chest, instantly drowning out the buzzing of the projector, all the snickers and whispers from the audience, and even causing the sentimental background music to distort briefly!

At the same time, an explosive power, completely incongruous with his thin frame, surged forth from his limbs and bones like a dormant volcano suddenly erupting!

"Bang! Bang!"

Xu Yanyan and Xu Miaomiao, who were holding his arms, felt an irresistible force. Before their expressions of shock could even appear on their faces, their obese bodies were involuntarily pushed away and they staggered backward, knocking over two folding chairs with a loud bang before rolling into a heap!

Dead silence.

Absolute silence instantly enveloped the entire screening room.

The music stopped, the snickers stopped, even the breathing seemed to disappear. Everyone stared wide-eyed, as if they'd seen a ghost, intently watching the figure that had suddenly sprung up on the stage. Zhao Menghua, holding roses, his smile frozen on his face, instinctively took a half step back, his Adam's apple bobbing. Chen Wenwen covered her mouth, her eyes wide with shock and bewilderment. Even the most arrogant Su Xiaoqiang forgot his sarcasm, his mouth agape, dumbfounded.

Lu Mingfei stood rooted to the spot, his chest heaving, but his eyes no longer held the timidity, confusion, or shame he had shown before. Instead, they burned with a fierce, desperate light, like a lion that had been imprisoned for too long finally breaking free of its shackles. The suit he wore no longer looked ridiculous; instead, it strangely accentuated a sharp, solitary edge.

He didn't even glance at the twins sprawled on the ground, nor at the terrified Zhao Menghua. His gaze, sharp as lightning, shot directly to the corner—where, lying quietly, was a bunch of dandelions he had prepared but hadn't been able to give out due to the unexpected situation. Pure white and soft, in the dim light, they resembled a solidified ball of moonlight.

He strode over, bent down, and picked it up. His movements were swift and decisive, carrying an undeniable resolve.

Then, he turned around, holding the bunch of wildflowers from the riverbank that seemed out of place in the luxurious cinema, and walked step by step toward the pale-faced girl in the center of the first row of the audience.

The footsteps were exceptionally clear in the deathly silence, pounding on everyone's eardrums.

He stopped in front of Chen Wenwen, so close he could see the trembling of her eyelashes. All his prepared thoughts, all his carefully crafted flowery words, vanished in that instant. Only the most primal, instinctive, and fervent thought remained in his mind, like magma bursting through the earth's crust, unstoppable.

He raised the trembling bunch of dandelions, looked directly into Chen Wenwen's shocked and bewildered eyes, and with all his might, in a clear, hoarse, yet incredibly resolute voice, threw out the "bomb" that had been brewing for three years and agonizing countless days and nights—

"Chen Wenwen, I like you."

It's not a confession. It's a declaration.

Like a soldier forced to the edge of a cliff, no longer considering victory or defeat, but simply facing fate, sounding the inevitable lonely yet resounding charge.