I became a movie star at the age of three; Dilraba and I are childhood sweethearts.

You Haoran immediately extended his chubby little finger.

Xiao Chen smiled, hooked his finger around his, and gently shook it.

"Pinky promise."

The sadness of parting was greatly diminished by these two simple sentences and a promise.

Watching this scene from a distance, Song Dandan sighed to Yang Zi beside her.

"Look at Xiao Chen, he's only twelve years old, and he's already so good at coaxing children."

"And he's so good-looking, oh my, how many young girls will he seduce in the future?"

Yang Zi looked at Xiao Chen's perfect profile, her face slightly flushed, and nodded vigorously.

Let alone the future, there's already a young girl who can't handle it anymore.

……

After leaving the film crew, Xiao Chen's life did not become leisurely.

During a break from filming "Home with Kids", he accomplished another important task.

The script he promised to give to Leslie Cheung.

In the study, Xiao Chen carefully organized the last printed page of the script and put it into a kraft paper file bag.

On the cover, he wrote four characters in neat handwriting.

Echoes of the Rainbow

And the names of the two recipients.

Leslie Cheung, Anita Mui.

He didn't call them in advance; he just sent them a regular letter.

He dropped this story, which contained memories of an era, into the mailbox.

From Beijing to Hong Kong, a gift that transcends time and space is on its way.

Kadoorie Hill, Hong Kong.

Leslie Cheung's home remains as quiet and elegant as ever.

He had just returned from a job interview and was about to make himself a cup of tea to relax.

Then I saw the document bag on the table, which was from the mainland.

Sender: Xiao Chen.

Leslie Cheung's eyes lit up.

What did Xiaochen send?

He eagerly tore open the file bag, revealing a thick stack of scripts inside.

Echoes of the Rainbow

Leslie Cheung was stunned.

Unexpectedly, Xiao Chen actually sent a script.

He murmured the name, and a strange emotion welled up inside him.

Just looking at these three words is like being able to smell the damp and warm atmosphere of the old days.

Instead of looking through it immediately, he picked up the phone and dialed a number he knew by heart.

"Amei, come here for a moment."

"Ah Chen's script has arrived."

Mei Yanfang on the other end of the phone was clearly also taken aback.

"Did Xiao Chen really write a script?"

"I'll be right there! Make me some tea and wait for me!"

Less than half an hour later, the energetic Mei Yanfang rang the doorbell.

As soon as she entered the room, she rushed to the sofa in the living room and snatched the script from Leslie Cheung's hand.

"Let me see first!"

Leslie Cheung smiled helplessly and let her be.

He brought over two cups of brewed tea and sat down beside her.

Afternoon sunlight streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and a faint aroma of tea wafted through the air.

Two people, two close friends, sat side by side, quietly reading the same story.

At first, Anita Mui was quite loud and boisterous.

"Luo Jinyi? That name sounds honest enough. You're playing the role?"

"Mrs. Luo, wow, what a fierce woman! She beats her son and scolds her husband every day. That's just like me, haha!"

Leslie Cheung ignored her joke; he was completely absorbed in the story.

Gradually, Mei Yanfang's voice also faded away.

The only sound in the living room was the rustling of papers turning over.

The story unfolds from the daily life of an ordinary port family, filled with trivialities, noise, and the vibrant atmosphere of everyday life.

My older brother, Jin Yi, is an excellent student and the hope of the whole family.

My younger brother, Jin'er, is a mischievous and playful child, but he's the family's source of joy.

The father was a man of few words, who supported the family with his hands that made leather shoes.

The mother was feisty and capable, using her sharp tongue to protect her husband and son.

They are the epitome of countless Hong Kong families in that era.

"It's tough, but we have to get through it."

"One step is difficult, one step is good."

"One difficult step, one good step."

When she saw these lines, Anita Mui's eyes welled up with tears.

She had heard these words countless times from her elders when she was a child.

She saw herself in him, saw that little girl singing in the lychee garden, struggling to make a living.

When the story progresses to the point where the older brother, Jin-ichi, is diagnosed with leukemia, the younger brother who stole the luminous cup...

It was just so that my brother could see all the colors.

Seeing the typhoon approaching, the family risked their lives to protect their small tin roof...

Anita Mui could no longer hold back.

Tears fell one by one onto the script, staining the ink in a small patch.

She covered her mouth to stop herself from crying out loud, but her shoulders were trembling violently.

Leslie Cheung, standing beside him, was in no better shape.

His tears slid silently down his cheeks and dripped onto his clothes.

This story is too bitter.

Yet it was so warm.

It was like a gentle knife, precisely dissecting the softest part of their hearts.

It vividly and tenderly portrays the collective memories of the port city, the passing years, and family ties.

Especially the ending of the script.

When the father's wedding ring was worn smooth by the years.

When the mother said that goldfish's memory is not just three seconds.

The two of them completely broke down.

They put down their scripts, looked at each other in silence, and only suppressed sobs echoed in the quiet living room.

After a very long time, Mei Yan finally wiped her face, her voice hoarse beyond belief.

"elder brother……"

Leslie Cheung responded with a nasal tone.

"Um."

Anita Mui was both crying and laughing.

"That brat..."

"He...he's only twelve years old!"

"How...how could he write something like this?"

Even Leslie Cheung couldn't answer that question.

He picked up the script and ran his fingers over the four characters on it.

I feel like I'm not holding a script, but a weighty life story.

Leslie Cheung suddenly picked up the phone, found Xiao Chen's number, and dialed it directly.

The call was quickly answered, and a boy's clear voice came from the other end.

"elder brother."

Upon hearing that voice, Leslie Cheung felt a thousand words stuck in his throat.

Before he could speak, the phone was snatched away by Mei Yanfang.

"Xiao Chen!"

"You idiot!"

She yelled into the phone, her voice trembling with sobs.

"Are you trying to make us cry ourselves to death?!"

Xiao Chen, far away in Beijing, was sitting by the window reading a book.

Hearing Mei Yanfang's familiar roar, he simply smiled.

"Sister Fang, have you received the script?"

Anita Mui sniffed and handed the phone back to Leslie Cheung.

"Received it! More than just received it!"

After answering the phone, Leslie Cheung calmed down a bit.

"Xiao Chen".

Xiao Chen responded softly.

"Um."

Leslie Cheung paused, his tone becoming extremely solemn.

"This play..."

"We'll film right away!"

"Whatever you need—actors, investment, venue."

"I'll find everything for you!"

"But I want to turn it on right away!"

He couldn't wait any longer.

He wanted to bring this story to the big screen immediately so that everyone could see it.

On the other end of the phone, the boy still spoke in that calm and nonchalant tone.

"it is good."

"I'll wait for you."