IMGH Chapter 53

Do What You Can, Leave the Rest to Fate

The lights in the theater dimmed, and the large screen gradually lit up.

When the title of the film appeared on the screen, Chen Yuhe’s eyes went wide with shock, and she immediately shot an indignant glance at the man sitting beside her. “Jiang Yi,” she protested, “how could you pick a film like this for me? No wonder nobody’s watching it!”

Only then did Chen Yuhe understand what that strange look from the ticket-checking attendant had meant — she had never seen anyone bring a girlfriend to watch a gay film.

This Jiang Yi was simply infuriating!

Chen Yuhe’s beautiful eyes gradually filled with menace as she glared at Jiang Yi through gritted teeth. “If you didn’t want to spend time with me, you could have just said so. Did you really have to pick a film like this to torment me?”

Jiang Yi blinked innocently. “Yuhe, you said to let me choose whatever I wanted!”

“I told you to choose whatever you wanted, and you… you picked this!” Chen Yuhe took a deep breath and suppressed her anger. “Never mind how old this film is — just look at the content! Even without having seen it, I know it’s a gay film. Who takes their girlfriend to watch something like this? Jiang Yi, you’ve gone too far!”

“Yuhe, how do you know it’s a gay film?” Jiang Yi tilted his head and asked her, genuinely puzzled.

Chen Yuhe fumed. “This film was once very famous — the director won an Academy Award for it, and it received numerous other honors!”

“Then don’t you want to know why it caused such a sensation back then?” Jiang Yi gently patted the back of Chen Yuhe’s hand and soothed her. “Since it’s already started, let’s just be patient and watch it to the end.”

He looked at her softly. “Think of it as keeping me company, alright?”

That rare display of tenderness successfully calmed the agitated Chen Yuhe.

Her eyes flickered, and she let out a barely audible sigh. Then, with a resigned snort, she muttered, “Fine. If it weren’t for the fact that you lowered yourself to beg me, I wouldn’t stay.”

Jiang Yi smiled but said nothing more. A quiet stillness settled over them — only the brightness of the large screen, the soft background music, and the lead actor’s deep, resonant voice echoing through the empty theater.

Chen Yuhe munched on her popcorn and occasionally whispered comments about the plot to Jiang Yi.

[Jack’s face was flushed red from the cold. Ennis, his expression blank, picked up his hunting rifle and sat down beside him.

“This can only happen once. This is between us. Nobody else’s business. I’m not queer. Me neither.”]

The deep male voices, filled with conflict and struggle, drifted through the air. The snack slipped from Chen Yuhe’s hand. She turned to look at the man beside her — the flickering light from the screen fell across his profile, making him look so distant, so unreal, and yet so tormented, so at a loss.

Chen Yuhe snapped back to clarity in an instant. Her red lips trembled, and after a long moment of hesitation, she softly murmured, “Jiang Yi… is this what you’ve been trying to tell me?”

Jiang Yi did not turn his head — his eyes remained fixed on the screen. He said slowly, “Yuhe, I’m not gay. It’s just that my feelings for him are something I can’t hold back. So I’m sorry, for what I’ve put you through…”

His words were unfinished, but Chen Yuhe already understood. She let out a quiet laugh — one tinged with self-mockery.

“I know. I’ve known for a long time.” She glanced sideways at the male ghost standing behind them and sighed. “What are you going to do?”

Jiang Yi managed a bitter smile and shook his head. “I’ve tried every method I could think of. He…”

“You know love can’t be forced!” Jiang Yi stretched both arms behind him, loosening his body, and said with forced ease, “I believe that sincerity can move even the hardest heart.”

Chen Yuhe laughed in spite of herself. “Your outlook really is something else.”

Jiang Yi curved the corner of his lips slightly — but that smile carried bitterness, and a quiet ache…

“These days, all the good men have gone off the deep end, and what does that leave the rest of us girls?” Chen Yuhe stuffed another handful of popcorn into her mouth with resentful force, chewing vigorously as though to vent her frustrations.

The quiet theater held only the sound of the film playing. Chen Yuhe had long since stopped eating. Her beautiful eyes were fixed unblinkingly on the screen, glistening with unshed tears.

At the end of the film, two shirts lay draped over each other.

[If I cannot be joined with you in flesh and blood, then let my shirt hold your shirt — as though I were holding you.]

The film ended. Chen Yuhe was already in tears.

Jiang Yi fumbled hastily to hand her tissues. “Please don’t cry — if someone sees us, they’ll think I did something to hurt you!”

Chen Yuhe’s eyes were red, tears streaming steadily down her face.

“You did do something to hurt me — making me watch something this heartbreaking for no reason. You’re terrible!”

Jiang Yi laughed despite himself and tried to console her. “It’s just a film — it’s only a story. There’s no need to take it to heart.”

Chen Yuhe had stopped crying by then, but she fixed her swollen red eyes on Jiang Yi and said in a muffled voice, “Jiang Yi, have you ever thought about what happens if the formation can’t be broken? What if Qiu Rui doesn’t fall for you?”

Jiang Yi lowered his head and looked at the lines on his palm. Calmly, he said, “There are no ‘what ifs’ to dwell on. Do what you can, and leave the rest to fate.”

He stood up, straightened out the slight creases in his clothes, and walked slowly toward the exit of the theater.

Chen Yuhe watched the man’s upright, steady figure, her beautiful eyes shimmering with a resolute light. As though she had made up her mind about something, she clenched her fist, rose to her feet, and hurried after him.