I Know It Can't Be Done

It was late one night when Yu Fan took on a script, a □□ story in a genre she had never explored before.

The blank document, the blinking cursor, and the outline laid out by the director circled in her mind, like a century-old tree with a dense canopy, its branches and veins clear and distinct. Yu Fan was genuinely curious: Why were there always so many people who knew something was impossible, yet insisted on doing it anyway?

The next night, she was invited to a friend's birthday party. The venue was a music bar, the kind of place where all sorts of people mingled. After a few rounds of drinks, someone went out and forgot to close the door. In that instant, Yu Fan's eyes landed on the man seated at the head of the table in the private room opposite. His expression was composed as he let the woman beside him cling to him affectionately.

Yu Fan looked away and smiled it off.

That night, she went home and wrote thirty thousand words straight through until morning.

Yu Fan never expected there to be a sequel. In that scene, they were barely a meter apart. The man's crisp, cool cigarette scent reached her nose. Yu Fan kept glancing his way. He moved with unhurried elegance and distinction, and her gaze drifted involuntarily to the nameplate on the table. She squinted at it for a long time but couldn't make it out.

The man seemed to realize what she was trying to do. His tone was casual and teasing. "Fu Yuan."

No matter how many years passed, Yu Fan would never forget her embarrassment at the time, or the faint, aloof smile on the man's face. Later, she spent a great deal of time and effort proving one thing: a person's bearing is innate.

One afternoon, Fu Yuan held her ID card and asked nonchalantly, "Yu Fan, why did your mother give you a name like that?"

"Because my mother didn't want me to stay in that little county town like she did. She hoped I could sail far and wide."

The next time Fu Yuan came up, Yu Fan was a famous screenwriter. Much of the credit went to the hugely successful TV series she'd written back then.

"Teacher Yu, do you think it's really possible for someone to knowingly sink into love in real life?"

The show continued playing on the screen. Yu Fan let the scene pass by. She remembered so many things. Beyond layer upon layer of haze, that handsome, distinguished face gradually came into focus, only for everything to dissolve again at the sound of a faint laugh.

"Yes."

Because beneath that century-old tree with its dense canopy, countless roots spread through the rich soil.

□□ story // female screenwriter & capital-circle heir

I've never written in this genre before, so I want to practice my writing a bit more first. I probably won't start this story until 2025. (P.S. If enough people save it, maybe I'll see the money and start it after all.)

Theme: You won't lose your way if you find the right beacon.