SBAB Chapter 36

Oh, romance, romance—why are you so elusive, so impossible to grasp, leaving me utterly baffled?

Perhaps for a mere mortal like me, getting close to you is a hundred times harder than reaching the heavens.

Ah, romance!

Empty-handed, Lin Xin began composing his awkward version of modern poetry, trying to inch closer to the essence of romance. But his attempts were clumsy, and the elusive idea slipped further away, leaving him chasing after it without success. By the time the sky had completely darkened, he hadn’t even managed to brush its hem.

Lin Xin and Cheng Shiyin wandered the park from day to night, grabbing a casual lunch at one of the park’s eateries. In an amusement park that thrived on high-adrenaline, thrill-based attractions, the two of them—opting out of those exhilarating rides—found their choices severely limited.

To kill time, they even adjusted their selection criteria from “things that interest us” to “things with the longest lines,” intentionally choosing the most time-consuming queues. Still, they had at least half an hour left before the much-anticipated nighttime show. With nothing else to do, they roamed back and forth in the only souvenir shop near the exit.

A keychain shaped like Dory caught Cheng Shiyin’s eye. Without hesitation, she recited the most famous line from Finding Nemo—the one Dory repeated countless times. “42 Wallaby Way, Sydney.” The address where Nemo ended up after getting lost, and the only thing Dory, with her short-term memory loss, could recall as if it were fate.

But this Dory wasn’t animated, didn’t talk, and wasn’t forgetful—just an ordinary fish-shaped trinket.

Cheng Shiyin held the Dory keychain in her hand, finding it utterly adorable. Seeing her interest, the store clerk approached and introduced a companion item—a clownfish keychain. “These are a couple’s set,” she said, smiling. “Buy one, get the second half off!”

So it was a knockoff of Finding Nemo. Realizing this, the Dory keychain, which had seemed so cute moments ago, now looked cheap and poorly made. And being marketed a couple’s product right after a breakup? That stung. Cheng Shiyin promptly put the keychain back on the shelf, buying nothing, leaving the clerk with nothing but the retreating figure of a “broke customer.”

Lin Xin trailed behind her the entire time, never venturing off to browse for something he might like. Like a devoted shadow—and perhaps an eager puppy—he gravitated toward whatever caught Cheng Shiyin’s attention, enthusiastically discussing her favorite movies and animals. Secretly, he noted how long she lingered on each item: ten seconds for this one, twenty for that, but the Dory keychain? A solid three minutes in her hand.

On their third circuit through the store, pretending it was their first, the long-awaited nighttime show finally began—or rather, the lights began to glow.

At 7:30 in winter, the darkness was indistinguishable from a summer night, yet the amusement park kept the streetlights off. The only illumination came faintly from shop windows along the path, just enough to prevent someone from tripping.

Suddenly, cheerful music played over the loudspeakers. One by one, the streetlights flickered on, revealing clusters of tiny glowing creatures. They flitted around the lights, their wings shimmering as if alive.

Cheng Shiyin’s eyes lit up, and she ran forward, captivated. She followed the magical little creatures, marveling at how lifelike they seemed, until she realized they were made of paper.

To her astonishment, one of the tiny glowing beings floated gently toward her and landed right on her fingertip. The enchanting coincidence was so surreal that Cheng Shiyin felt as though she might melt from the dreamlike moment.

She turned, wanting to show Lin Xin the adorable little creature, but he was nowhere to be found. Instead, she found herself surrounded by the glowing paper beings, unable to move but too enchanted to care.

Lin Xin, meanwhile, had just finished hurriedly paying for the Dory keychain, tucking it into his jacket pocket before stepping out of the shop. He silently prayed that Cheng Shiyin wouldn’t notice, hoping to surprise her later with the small gift.

A thoughtful present—this was perhaps the only romantic gesture Lin Xin could muster.

As he debated using a bathroom excuse to distract Cheng Shiyin, he caught sight of her.

It was as if he were looking at a scene from a fairy tale.

The stage fog from the performance drifted around Cheng Shiyin’s feet, and a glowing paper creature perched delicately on her slender fingertip. At that moment, she looked like the most beautiful thing in the world, beloved by the tiny creature. As she sensed Lin Xin’s gaze, a firework burst into the sky above her, painting the night in brilliant colors. But not even the dazzling display could steal an ounce of her radiance.

Luckily, Cheng Shiyin was too absorbed in the magical moment to notice the unguarded adoration in Lin Xin’s eyes.

Even when a performer passed by and tried to interact with him, Lin Xin remained utterly focused on Cheng Shiyin, ignoring them completely. Even when Shang Xiaoxia walked by and playfully smacked the back of his head, Lin Xin didn’t react at all.

It wasn’t until Cheng Shiyin called his name that Lin Xin snapped out of his “dream.” He took her hand and led her to chase after her favorite parade float.

Cheng Shiyin had never told anyone how much, even as an adult, she longed for the beauty of fairy tales. Every time she saw a princess or a magical creature, she would tug on Lin Xin’s arm, praising each one’s charm and grace. She interacted enthusiastically with every performer, as though she had truly stepped into a fairy-tale kingdom. Her laughter rang out, and she darted around like an exuberant child begging her mother to read a bedtime story.

Lin Xin couldn’t help but stay close, eager to soak up Cheng Shiyin’s joy. Whenever the crowd got in his way, he was quick to push through, ensuring his shoulder brushed against hers.

At one point, Lin Xin gently took the glowing paper creature from Cheng Shiyin’s hand, marveling at her radiant smile. Her happiness melted away every trace of his earlier bad mood. Just as he felt his spirits lift, fate decided to toy with him. The grin that had barely lasted a second was wiped away, his expression twisting with irritation and frustration.

A young man—about 76.35% as handsome as Daniel Wu—stepped out from the crowd and approached Cheng Shiyin. “Excuse me, miss, could you tell me where the nearest men’s restroom is?” he asked with a smile.

Lost in her fairy-tale world, Cheng Shiyin failed to notice anything amiss. She didn’t question why the man ignored nearby staff or why he would ask a woman about the men’s restroom. Worse, when he thanked her, he even took the opportunity to lightly grab her hand before walking away.

The man slipped away before Lin Xin could confront him, leaving behind a scrap of paper in Cheng Shiyin’s palm. Under Lin Xin’s intense gaze, Cheng Shiyin reluctantly opened it instead of discarding it as she had planned.

The moment Lin Xin saw the note, his simmering anger transformed into a deep, unspoken sorrow.

“18049****92”

It was the man’s phone number.

Oh.

So that’s how it was.

No matter how close he felt to Cheng Shiyin, to others, they appeared entirely unrelated. To the world, she was a single woman, free to accept anyone’s advances. Lin Xin had no right to stop her or to claim her attention. She was still seeking love—beautiful, fairy-tale love.

An unbearable unease welled up in Lin Xin again, this time plain on his face. Though he turned away to hide it from Cheng Shiyin, he didn’t notice Shang Xiaoxia observing everything from a distance. Stroking her chin thoughtfully, Shang Xiaoxia whispered something to Wu Lian, tugging his ear for good measure. Wu Lian, rubbing his now-red ear, walked off to make a phone call, following Shang Xiaoxia’s instructions.

Meanwhile, Lin Xin hadn’t yet composed himself when a sudden rush of people nearly separated him from Cheng Shiyin. Panicked, he pulled her into his arms, shielding her from the crowd. The surging mass of people pushed them forward, sweeping them toward the base of the Ferris wheel.

The crowd stopped there, forming an orderly line. Lin Xin and Cheng Shiyin, however, found themselves near the front, hemmed in by a winding line of hundreds behind them. With no way to back out, they could only wait to ride the Ferris wheel and exit through the back.

Cheng Shiyin didn’t seem bothered. “If the view from the ground is already this beautiful at night, imagine how amazing it must be from the top of the Ferris wheel,” she said, eyes sparkling.

“Congratulations! Congratulations!” Couples stepping off the Ferris wheel were each handed a rose by the staff, who repeated their cheerful well-wishes. The repeated “congratulations” left both Lin Xin and Cheng Shiyin puzzled.

It wasn’t until Cheng Shiyin stepped into their cabin that Lin Xin overheard whispers behind them. To him, the murmurs sounded as loud as thunder:

“I heard that couples who confess their love on this Ferris wheel have a 100% success rate!”

A hundred percent?