Negative Electrode Material Chapter 14

The Eve of the Wedding (Part 1)

Chapter 14: The Eve of the Wedding (Part 1)

A week later, the flight landed in London. The wind was sharp and the clouds hung low; it was already quite chilly in the mornings and evenings, and the leaves had begun their quiet turn to yellow. Gao Huan didn’t return to his hotel, instead heading straight to Gao Le’s drama school with his luggage in tow.

“Big Brother Huan! You actually came, what a surprise!” Gao Le burst into the cafe across from the school like a whirlwind, giving Gao Huan a tight hug.

Gao Huan smiled and patted his sister’s back. “I came to check on your grades before heading to Florence.” He helped her hang her coat on a nearby floor rack. “You received the invitation too, right?”

“I did, but I can’t get away.” She pursed her lips. “I have a small play to perform in October, and the teacher is being very strict. I’m only halfway through this ‘monologue’…” She paused and laughed. “I really didn’t expect Lorenzo to get married so soon. Or rather, I never expected him to find a woman, let alone marry one!”

Gao Huan’s eyes widened, his tone shifting into the gossipy vibe he only shared with his sister. “I didn’t expect it either! When he told me, he seemed to be hesitating, so I didn’t want to pry. I’ll check out the situation this time and see what I can dig up.”

Outside the cafe window, the glass doors of the rehearsal hall opened and closed as students hurried back and forth clutching scripts.

Gao Le held her coffee cup, her fingertips pressed against the side as if drawing warmth from it. “Actually, I wanted to go. You came from so far away.” She looked up, then quickly looked away. “But this monologue of mine is always missing half a breath. The teacher just lectured on ‘rhythm’—not counting beats, but the rhythm of heartbeats, breathing, and the movement of one’s gaze. If I left for two days now, everything would be a mess when I got back.”

Gao Huan gave an “mm” of agreement, not immediately trying to persuade her. “Then don’t go.”

“You agreed way too fast.” Gao Le was amused by him, but her expression turned serious again. “I really want to get this right. I’m trying different pauses every day: in a sentence, does the word come first with the emotion following, or does the emotion arrive first with the word catching up? And where should the ‘stress’ fall? If I shift it, the character changes. Isn’t that amazing?”

She set the paper cup down, her hands lightly tapping the table as if taking the pulse of invisible lines. “The teacher also had us record the ‘two lines on the body’—the tempo of external actions and the tempo of internal changes. We have to twist them together. I’ve finally managed to stop them from fighting each other; I really don’t dare let go now.”

Gao Huan rested his chin on his hand, watching her animated gestures. He suddenly felt that his own caution when discussing “reproducible ranges” at board meetings was the same kind of stubbornness as her current obsession. He nodded. “Then record a blessing video for me, and I’ll bring it to him.”

“Oh, great idea!” Gao Le immediately pulled out her phone, then put it back. “No, wait until I get back and set up the lighting properly to film a serious one. Are you not going to see Mom this time?”

Gao Huan shook his head slightly. “Did you tell her I was coming?”

“Of course not, I’m not that big of a blabbermouth.” Gao Le rolled her eyes at her brother. Despite her “vase-like” beauty, Gao Le was far from brainless. Suddenly, she straightened up and said loudly, “Oh no, I still need to pick out a gift for Lorenzo. Let’s go now!”

Gao Huan took a deep breath. Well, he should have known to drop his things at the hotel first.

The next morning, Gao Huan held an online meeting in his room with Li Qi regarding the Technical Open Day. In the afternoon, he flew to Florence.

In September, the light in Tuscany was thin, as if the sun had lightly brushed it with a layer of gold dust. Rows of cypress trees cut the hills into neat lines; vineyards and olive groves interlaced, with stone walls enclosing the plots like a chessboard, while white dirt roads wound between them. Ancient stone houses bore the weight of years, yet various colored bedsheets hung to dry on the windowsills—history and the breath of daily life pressed together.

At the exit, a hotel driver waited holding a sign that read “Mr. Gao,” efficiently taking his small suitcase and two sets of formal wear. As Gao Huan got into the car, he sent a message to Lorenzo:

[Just landed. Heading to the hotel now.]

[Bachelor party tonight. Theme: Drag Queen.] Followed by a high-heel emoji.

[???] Gao Huan could already see the trending headline: #Haoyue Group Heir Raids Tuscany at Night#

[There won’t be any media. I’ve prepared fake eyelashes for you.]

[??!?!!]

[Tell me when you get to the hotel :)]

Gao Huan turned off his phone and gripped it in his palm, his temple throbbing slightly. The cypresses stood outside the car window like a row of metronomes, seemingly counting the “rhythm” he would have to face tonight.

Upon arriving at the hotel, Gao Huan pushed his suitcase into a corner and gave his face a quick wash. The person in the mirror looked more energetic than during the flight, but his eyes still carried the weariness of travel. Just as he sat down in his room, he received a text from Wang Yuan:

[Since you’re there, enjoy yourself. I’ve got things covered tomorrow.]

The Empress was too considerate, as if he knew Gao Huan might be worrying about the project and unable to let loose. Gao Huan let out a long sigh, flopped onto the full, soft bed, and buried his head in the pillow with a smile.

Before long, Lorenzo called. “Your Highness, have you arrived? Come straight to the lounge.”

The lounge was a semi-open space with large glass doors wide open, leading to the hotel’s square pool. Night had just fallen, and the water reflected dots of lamplight.

Lorenzo was wearing sunglasses, sitting on a sofa chair by the pool with a glass in hand. Several companions were already seated around him. When he saw Gao Huan, he immediately raised his glass and stood up, pushing back his chair.

Young Master Gao walked over and gave Lorenzo a tight hug, the two of them patting each other’s shoulders.

“How are you, my prince?”

“Very well, dear groom.”

While joking around, Lorenzo introduced his companions to Gao Huan. As they shook hands, Gao Huan recognized a few he had met briefly before, while others were new faces. Without exception, everyone was dressed casually but appropriately. Soon, a few more friends arrived in small groups, totaling about a dozen young men.

One of them, named Giulio, was even more extroverted than Lorenzo. When talking about the plans for the night, he was alternately mysterious and animated, gesturing so extravagantly it was like he was performing in a play. Gao Huan couldn’t help but wonder what such a high-energy person did when there were no weddings or parties, and if his talent was being wasted.

Giulio picked up his wine glass, cleared his throat, and raised his hand in a gesture like a performer greeting an audience:

“Signori e signori—” He dragged out the Italian words with such length and exaggeration that the laughter which had just subsided rippled once more.

“Tonight’s program is divided into three acts:

Act One: Right now. We warm up here. Those who want to eat can eat a bit more.

Act Two: We head to a little spot in the city to see an ‘art performance.’

Act Three… everyone can do as they please. But don’t you dare lose your way back!”

“Art performance?” someone asked, intentionally raising an eyebrow.

Giulio lowered his voice, winking mysteriously. “You can even interact with the performers. I’ve brought my own security; everyone’s phones will be stored away. No one will be taking secret photos.”

Everyone seemed to share this concern. Hearing Giulio say this, some slightly furrowed brows relaxed. Lorenzo also knew about the incident in London where Gao Huan had been cornered by the media. He raised an eyebrow and teased, “We can’t make the trending searches, so Your Highness better not be disappointed! Hahaha.”

“Before Act Two begins,” Giulio continued with a mysterious smirk, “if you want to interact with the performers, your current outfits are far too plain. At eight o’clock tonight, four stylists will arrive here to serve you all.”