Vol2 Chapter 2: Movies

Lu Mingfei had been practicing his smile the whole way.
He’d made up his mind: no matter how much his uncle and aunt praised him, he’d stay calm and flash a refined smile, fitting Cassell’s aristocratic vibe.

The passenger next to him saw this kid smirk, then compose himself, smirk again, then compose—back and forth, like he was training some secret skill.

Great, I’m on a plane with a nutcase!

It made the whole flight nerve-racking.

But with Bai Ci there, and after she jumped in to defend him earlier, his aunt eased up.
She couldn’t embarrass him in front of an outsider.
His uncle, meanwhile, kept praising him.
So, as Lu Mingfei ate, he grinned wide, teeth flashing, looking like a smug little fart.

“Our Mingfei’s made it big!
Mixing it up in America!
Come on, let’s have a drink!”

Bai Ci savored her dumplings, enhanced by vinegar, garlic paste, and sesame oil.
Cassell had dumplings too, but they never tasted as good as homemade ones back home.

Lu Mingfei’s aunt was easy to read.
Don’t argue, don’t cross her, and she was mostly fine to deal with—just a bit of a menopausal tendency to pinch pennies.

Her upside?
Decent cooking.

His uncle was a henpecked man.
During a late-night snack, Lu Mingfei had said his uncle was privately kind to him.
He’d told him more than once, “Just let your aunt have her way.
Us Lu men are born generous—your dad and I are the same!”

He’d often slip Lu Mingfei his sparse cigarette money to buy cheap smokes, never asking about the change.

Bai Ci thought Lu Mingfei took after his uncle—both pushovers, swallowing their frustrations, sulking quietly when mad.

Lu Mingze… a human Rubik’s cube, still staring at her.

She had the urge to slap him twice.

According to Lu Mingfei, he had an alt account called “Sunset Scars” that hooked up with Lu Mingze online.
To sum it up: My online girlfriend was actually my dragon brother IRL and I’ll surpass Chu Zihang to become a legend.

“Don’t be shy, treat it like home,” his aunt suddenly said.

Bai Ci nodded, holding a chilled Tsingtao can, cool from the AC.
Lu Mingfei was being choke-hugged by his uncle, forced to drink, grinning with bared teeth like a rat that stole oil.
She sipped her beer, malt and carbonation bursting on her tongue.

Under the table, Lu Mingze’s knee brushed her skirt again.
She subtly shifted her chair half a foot toward Lu Mingfei.

So annoying…

“Our Mingfei’s a big deal now!”
His uncle popped another Tsingtao, the pull-tab clinking onto a porcelain plate.
“That Russian girl your aunt mentioned—what’s her name?”

“Zero,” Lu Mingfei said, scratching his neck with a goofy grin.
“Just friends.”

“Burp—why not go for her?” his uncle teased, hiccupping.
“Don’t embarrass the Lu family.”

“Sure, sure,” Lu Mingfei mumbled.

Bai Ci expressionlessly dented her beer can.
In her peripheral vision, Lu Mingfei wrestled with a slippery fishball, barely managing his chopsticks, still grinning like an idiot.

“Xiao Bai, try this cured meat!”
His uncle shoved a plate at her.
“Mingfei’s been in your care abroad, hasn’t he?”

Bai Ci’s glass-raising hand froze for half a second.
Care?
Like fixing his error-riddled mission reports for Norma or waking the idiot for morning classes?

Just die of laziness.

As her glass touched her lip, she heard her calm voice: “Not really… Mingfei’s helped me a lot too.”

Amid clinking glasses, Bai Ci counted the ninth empty can on the table.
The aluminum spun in her fingers, reflecting the swaying ceiling light.

“Xiao Bai’s got a good tolerance!”
His uncle raised his glass, tipsy.

Bai Ci didn’t hesitate, downing another gulp of icy beer, bubbles stinging her tongue.
Her gaze drifted to Lu Mingfei, chatting eagerly with his uncle about America, like a kid desperate to prove himself.

Her lips twitched.
She pulled out her phone, jabbing at the lock screen.

Not satisfied, she stomped her foot.

Thud, thud, thud.

Lu Mingfei turned, seeing Bai Ci’s flushed face, her finger hooked, glaring darkly at her phone, tapping away.

What was she doing?

Sensing his gaze, she looked up, shooting him a resentful glance before resuming her screen-tapping.

“Uncle, I can’t drink anymore,” Lu Mingfei said, though he could keep going.
He and Fingel drank like fish at school, getting plastered nightly—this was nothing.

But he sensed trouble if he continued.

He moved to help Bai Ci up, but she suddenly stood, smacking Lu Mingze’s head.

Then she bowed deeply to his stunned uncle and aunt.

“Thank you for your hospitality!
I’m so sorry!”

She yanked Lu Mingfei downstairs, not caring what they thought.
She’d been itching to teach that Rubik’s cube a lesson—couldn’t let herself down.

Downstairs, she pushed Lu Mingfei onto a bench and darted to the nearest shop like a rabbit.

“You…”

“Shut up.”
She pressed an ice-cold cola against his face, droplets sliding down his Adam’s apple into his collar.

“Do you know how annoying Lu Mingze is?”
Bai Ci sat beside him, sipping her cola.
“You just kept drinking… I can’t rely on you.
Whatever, you’re fine.
Go watch a movie with me.”

Lu Mingfei nodded dumbly.
“What movie?”

“Guess.”

She gave him a rare smile.

He let her drag him across a crosswalk, the summer night’s breeze carrying the asphalt’s warmth.
They soon reached their destination.

Not a theater, but their old, dingy internet café.

The private booth reeked of years of cigarette smoke.
Bai Ci booked one, kicked off her shoes, and sat cross-legged on the swivel chair, her ankle’s clover charm jangling.
As she clicked the mouse to play, the monitor’s blue light made her knuckles look like translucent jade.

Lu Mingfei saw the movie title—Ultraman Saga: Advance Screening.

Uh?

A guy and a girl alone watching this?

“Here.”
Bai Ci handed him a bottle of Yakult and two packs of spicy strips.

“Oh, thanks.”
He tore open the strips and chewed.

It was actually pretty good—not like the childish fight scenes of old, more like a martial arts flick.

Belial’s solo rampage through the Land of Light felt a bit like Sun Wukong storming Heaven.

Bai Ci kicked off her shoes, toes wiggling them as she watched, lost in thought.

Lu Mingfei munched, watching Belial break free, fight, shine, then get taken down by a random Ultraman.

Pretty pitiful, really.

Burned near death by the Plasma Spark, powerless, abandoned by his best friend to a barren planet.
On the brink of death, too weak to feel pain or despair, the only one to help him wasn’t light, but darkness.
He didn’t even have the strength to refuse the agony.

His body no longer his, his soul overtaken by a new consciousness.

When he returned to the Land of Light for revenge, Father of Ultra asked if this was his home—yet he was the one who’d left him to die.