Back to 17, My Brother is the Cult Leader

Two weeks later, Fang Yuan flew from Los Angeles to New York.

He called Chen Xia before boarding the plane.

It was almost dark when the plane landed at John F. Kennedy Airport.

Fang Yuan walked out carrying his bag and immediately spotted Chen Xia.

She stood in the crowd of people waiting to pick up passengers, wearing a light gray trench coat.

I haven't seen her for a year and a half. She's grown taller and has blossomed into a stunningly beautiful young woman.

Upon seeing Fang Yuan emerge, the corner of her mouth twitched slightly, and her eyes brightened.

Fang Yuan walked over.

"Hi."

"Hi." Chen Xia took a bag from his hand. "Was the journey smooth?"

"It was alright. I just waited for almost two hours during my layover in Detroit."

"That's good then." Chen Xia turned and walked out.

"Let's go, the car's in the parking lot. We've booked a hotel in Midtown, which is very close to the bookstore."

Once in the car, Chen Xia started the engine and turned on the air conditioning.

New York summers are hot and humid, and there's a thin layer of condensation on the car windows.

"Is everything settled in Los Angeles?" she asked.

"It's all done. I've got the union membership card, and we've reached an agreement with Warner."

"Congratulations." Chen Xia glanced at him. "So this trip to New York is purely for publishing?"

"Yes. There are still some details about the contracts for 'Edge of Tomorrow' and 'Twilight' that need to be confirmed in person. Ellie has already made the arrangements."

Chen Xia nodded and didn't ask any more questions.

The next morning, Chen Xia took Fang Yuan to Random House.

The building is in Midtown; it's not very tall, but it's quite impressive.

Rows of book covers hung in the lobby. Chen Xia greeted the receptionist and led Fang Yuan up to the eighth floor.

The head of the copyright department was a man in his fifties with gray hair, wearing round-framed glasses, speaking slowly and deliberately with a slight British accent.

The key terms of the contract were discussed for over an hour.

Royalty percentage, advance payment amount, scope of authorization, and revenue sharing of derivative rights —

Fang Yuan listened and took notes, asking several questions, which the other party answered one by one.

Chen Xia sat beside him, occasionally chiming in to explain some details of the English contract to Fang Yuan.

Finally, both parties confirmed all the terms and are now waiting for the legal department to issue a formal contract.

It was almost noon when I came out of Random House.

"I'm free this afternoon," Chen Xia said. "I'll take you for a walk. Where would you like to go?"

"I'll go wherever you take me."

Chen Xia glanced at him and smiled, "Okay, then come with me."

She drove him to the City University of New York.

The campus is small, with several old buildings surrounding a central square. There are several large trees in the square, and many students sit under their shade.

"I study here."

Chen Xia pointed out the library, the teaching building, and the bench where she often sat.

Fang Yuan followed beside her, listening to her talk and occasionally asking a question.

Tired from walking, the two sat down in a cafe on campus.

Chen Xia ordered an iced coffee, and Fang Yuan ordered a glass of water.

"And you?" Chen Xia asked. "How's it going at the Central Academy of Drama?"

"It's alright. It's just that there are a lot of classes."

Do you usually have enough time to write?

"Write at night. Go to class during the day, and write in the dorm at night."

Chen Xia looked at him, and after a while said, "Don't overwork yourself."

Fang Yuan smiled and said, "I'm used to it."

The two sat in the coffee shop for over an hour, talking about many things—work, life, and their childhoods.

She asked Fang Yuan, "Do you plan to develop your career in the country or come here?"

Fang Yuan thought for a moment and said, "Let's stay in both places. The domestic situation is our foundation, while this is our opportunity."

Chen Xia nodded.

For the next week, Chen Xia took Fang Yuan on a tour of New York.

Times Square, Central Park, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Statue of Liberty, the Brooklyn Bridge—I visited every single one of them.

Central Park is very large; it takes more than an hour to walk around it.

Chen Xia took him to the Bessard Fountain. The two stood in front of the fountain for a while, watching the water sparkle in the sunlight.

Chen Xia leaned against the railing, and Fang Yuan stood next to her. The two didn't talk much, but they didn't feel awkward.

At the Metropolitan Museum of Art, two people stopped in front of a painting at the same time, looked at each other, and smiled.

On the Brooklyn Bridge, the wind was strong, and Chen Xia's hair was being blown around. She reached out to smooth it down, and Fang Yuan instinctively shielded her from the wind.

Chen Xia glanced at him, didn't say anything, but smiled.

On the seventh evening, after dinner, Chen Xia drove Fang Yuan back to his hotel. The car was parked at the entrance, but neither of them rushed to get out.

There was a moment of silence.

Chen Xia spoke up: "What time is your flight tomorrow?"

"11:00 AM."

"Then I'll take you."

"No need, it's too early. I can just take a taxi myself."

Chen Xia turned to look at him: "I said I'd give it to you, so I'll give it to you."

Fang Yuan looked at her and stopped arguing.

Okay, the tomboy is back.

It was quiet for a while.

Chen Xia asked, "When will you come next time?"

Fang Yuan thought for a moment: "I don't know. Maybe at the end of the year, or maybe next spring."

"That's quite a long time."

"Um."

The next day, Chen Xia took Fang Yuan to the airport, and the two didn't talk much on the way.

When they arrived at the airport, Chen Xia helped him take his suitcase out of the trunk.

"Have you packed everything? Passport, plane ticket?"

"I brought them all."

The two people were standing face to face.

Chen Xia extended her hand: "Have a safe journey."

Fang Yuan squeezed her hand. Her hand was soft and a little cool.

He gently hugged her, and Chen Xia leaned against him.

"Give me a call when you get there," she said.

On the plane, Fang Yuan closed his eyes.

The scene from last night was still in my mind—the girl's graceful body under the night sky, and Chen Xia's soft moans.

The clouds outside the window were thick and white.

My next trip to New York might not be too long.

More than ten hours later, we landed at Shanghai Hongqiao Airport.

Fang Yuan walked out carrying his suitcase, and the heat wave from Shanghai hit him in the face.

He hailed a taxi and gave them the address of the Shanghai Film Studio.

After driving for more than an hour, we arrived at the entrance of Shanghai Film Studio.

Fang Yuan paid the money and carried the suitcase inside.

In the distance, he saw several large trucks parked in the yard, loaded with lighting equipment and props.

A group of people were loading things onto the vehicle. Some were carrying light stands, some were lifting boxes, and some were standing to the side holding walkie-talkies and shouting something.

Li Hong stood in the middle of the courtyard, holding a folder in her hand, talking to a staff member.

She had gotten quite a tan, her hair was shorter, and she was wearing a black T-shirt with the words "Eighteen-Year-Old Sky" printed on it, along with the English translation below.

Fang Yuan walked over, stood behind her, and called out, "Director Li."

Li Hong turned around, saw him, paused for a moment, and then smiled.

"You're back?"

"I'm back."

"Is everything settled in the US?"

"It's done."

Pointing to the equipment being loaded onto the truck, he asked, "Is this for location shooting?"

"Yeah, I'm going to Suzhou tomorrow. It's the last few scenes; once we finish filming, we'll wrap up."

Fang Yuan nodded.

Li Hong patted his shoulder: "Go and rest first."

Let's all have dinner together tonight, as a welcome-back dinner and to cheer on the crew.

Filming is almost finished, and everyone is exhausted.