The Longest Movie

"Zhu Yun?"

"How did you get here?"

Fu Nanzhi stared at Cheng Jun, frozen in place.

"Nan-jie..."

Cheng Jun looked bewildered, unable to comprehend Fu Nanzhi’s sudden appearance.

"Ah... right, I must be dreaming."

She quickly pieced it together, her expression easing as she glanced around.

The room wasn’t cramped, but it was sparsely furnished—just four chairs arranged in the center.

She walked over and sat beside Fu Nanzhi, asking,

"Nan-jie, do you know where we are?"

Fu Nanzhi shook her head. Of course, she didn’t know.

But now that she’d seen Cheng Jun, a faint glimmer of understanding flickered in her mind, just out of reach.

Cheng Jun smiled faintly, nodding.

"Let’s wait. Maybe we’ll figure it out soon."

She was the first to adjust, the scene feeling oddly familiar.

"Mm."

Fu Nanzhi murmured in response.

The two sat in silence, yet strangely, neither felt bored.

A moment later, ripples shimmered across a luminous doorway as Shu Yunyi stepped inside and paused.

Her gaze swept over the two seated figures, hesitating before taking another step.

Shu Yunyi frowned, thinking to herself,

"Dreams reflect our thoughts... no wonder they’re here."

But she quickly accepted it—dream logic was always hazy.

Without a word, she walked to the row of chairs, deliberately choosing one at the end, leaving a gap between herself and the others.

Cheng Jun’s eyes brightened as she watched Shu Yunyi enter, her suspicions confirmed.

"So you’re here too..."

Shu Yunyi whipped her head around, doubtful.

"You... you can talk?"

"Duh."

Cheng Jun rolled her eyes before addressing both of them.

"You don’t actually think this is a dream, do you?"

"Try remembering—what were we doing before we got here?"

Fu Nanzhi furrowed her brow, straining to recall.

"Ah..."

"I was talking to my mom... we’d just mentioned Shen Yi..."

It suddenly clicked. She turned to Cheng Jun, realization dawning.

Shu Yunyi, too, began piecing it together.

She’d been walking toward a light, unable to recall how she’d arrived—until Shen Yi’s name jolted her memory.

"I was on the phone with him..."

"Bingo!"

Cheng Jun grinned, snapping her fingers and looking up.

"The reason we’re here... it all comes down to him!"

Noticing the number of chairs, Cheng Jun was about to call out for Shen Yi when Fu Nanzhi tugged her sleeve.

"Look—the wall’s changing."

They turned. The screen lit up.

As the glow faded, a scene unfolded before them, accompanied by background sounds.

"Wait... that’s me?"

Shu Yunyi whispered in disbelief.

The figure onscreen was unmistakably her, speaking softly beside Shen’s Mother.

Fu Nanzhi’s expression shifted as she recognized the setting—Shen Yi’s childhood home, that little rural house in Linjiang County.

Before she could dwell on it, three more figures entered the frame.

"This... that’s me too?"

Cheng Jun’s face twisted in bewilderment.

The trio onscreen were her, Nan-jie, and Shen Yi.

Fu Nanzhi’s composure cracked as the scene progressed, showing all four of them gathered at the Shen Family home.

Watching Shen’s Mother’s distress and the two of them comforting her, Fu Nanzhi suddenly understood.

"This... it’s a glimpse of the future."

Seeing herself onscreen was like staring into a mirror.

Though it felt surreal, every action taken by her onscreen was something she’d realistically do.

"Shh..."

Shu Yunyi’s eyes remained locked on the screen, signaling for silence.

The pivotal moment arrived—Shen Yi was sent upstairs, leaving the women to talk privately with Shen’s Mother.

The tension was palpable. All three watched, breath held, eager to see what came next.

Cheng Jun absorbed the sights and sounds as if watching a movie starring herself.

To her surprise, the film didn’t just show events—it let her feel the emotions of her onscreen self, pulling her deeper into the experience.

But what followed stunned them all.

Shen’s Mother’s words sent their hearts on a rollercoaster, yet their love for Shen Yi ultimately prevailed.

Off-screen, the three clenched their fists, willing their future selves to fight harder for him.

But fate had other plans. The scene shifted to a truce, the mood lightening.

The screen split, showing parallel storylines—each woman’s private moments with Shen Yi.

Fu Nanzhi’s eyes softened, Cheng Jun glowed with quiet joy, and Shu Yunyi allowed herself a small smile.

Warmth. Comfort. Beauty. Tenderness.

Then the scene changed again.

Cheng Jun’s eyes widened. She pressed a hand to her flat stomach, dazed.

"I... I’m pregnant?"

Happiness surged through her, so vivid it felt like déjà vu.

Next came her wedding to Shen Yi. Tears streamed down her face at the grandeur of it all.

Fu Nanzhi turned to her, lips parting, emotions swirling.

Shu Yunyi noticed but pushed it aside, her focus locked on the screen as she whispered,

"Yaoyao?"

"Will my Yaoyao still come to me?"

This had always been her fear—that the changes might erase Little Jinyao from her life.

But the scene continued, granting her relief.

"Yixin, Yixin..."

"This is my child."

Cheng Jun murmured, overflowing with maternal love.

She’d taken the lead, but Shu Yunyi wasn’t far behind.

Under Shu Yunyi’s hopeful gaze, Little Jinyao was born, easing the weight on her heart.

Fu Nanzhi’s eyes reddened as she watched the two children, torn between adoration and longing.

The emotions onscreen mirrored her own—a bittersweet envy.

With a quiet sigh, she steadied herself and kept watching.