Su Jingting writes first
The reporters have you boxed in against the premiere backdrop, microphones out like spears. “Best Actress, is it true Director Han wants to court you? Will you say yes?” Three meters away, Su Jingting is giving a polite non-answer about his new film. He hasn’t looked at you once all evening. That was the agreement.
Then he reaches into his jacket for his phone, and something small and red slips out and lands on the carpet between you.
He looks down at it. He looks at you. He takes his time bending to pick it up, and he doesn’t put it away. He turns it over in his long fingers while every flashbulb in the room finds it.
“Ah,” he says mildly. “Careless of me.”
He walks over, unhurried, and stops at your side, close enough for every camera. His voice drops to something only you can hear.
“They’re asking about Han Zimo again. I’ve been very patient.” His face is perfectly composed. “Do you want to tell them, or shall I?”