1985, the year of the great writer, began with Infernal Affairs!

Upon hearing this, Chen Xiangdong perked up and jumped to his feet: "We need to hurry!"

Xie Lu didn't really want to go. He wrote the script and could recite the plot with his eyes closed. He'd rather spend the time he had to queue in his dorm writing a few more pages of the prequel or go to the library to read some books.

But before he could speak, Chu Yunfei had already pulled him off the bed.

"Fourth brother, don't even think about running away! You have to participate in the dorm activity! Let's go!"

Chen Xiangdong and Zhou Wenbin also gathered around, grinning, as if to say, "We won't leave until you come."

Helpless, Xie Lu had no choice but to put on his clothes. The four of them quickly finished washing up, and the basins and toothbrushes clattered against the cement sink. Other students in the dormitories who were also up early to "grab the magazine" in the water room exchanged knowing glances.

Stepping out of the dormitory building, a gust of cold wind jolted me completely awake.

They walked toward the newsstand closest to the dormitory area.

On the road, you can already see many people with the same goal as them, walking quickly and heading in a clear direction.

When they arrived, a long queue had already formed outside the newsstand.

At a glance, there must be more than thirty people.

There were freshmen like them, their faces still showing the awkwardness and excitement of just starting university.

There were also upperclassmen in their second and third years who seemed more composed, but their eyes also revealed anticipation.

There were even a few people who looked like teachers standing quietly to one side of the line.

No one was maintaining order, but the line was fairly neat.

They talked in hushed tones, their breath dispersing in wisps in the cool air.

Eight out of ten sentences in their conversations revolve around the movie "Infernal Affairs".

"Now that Officer Wong is dead, what will happen to Chan Wing-yan? Is there still a mole within the police station?"

"I think Lau Kin-ming will definitely turn against us in the end. Han Chen is too ruthless. There's no future in following him."

"Not necessarily. Han Chen has leverage over Liu Jianming. Would he dare to rebel?"

"Chen Yongren is so pitiful. He's been an undercover agent for so many years, his identity can't be exposed, and his superior is dead..."

"I just want to know, in the end, who will survive?"

"The author is too good at whetting people's appetites. The first half got stuck there, and I've been itching for a month."

"Indeed, I'd better not find out who this dog of an author is. If I do, I'll arrest him and keep an eye on him as he writes."

Upon hearing this, Xie Lu silently shrank back.

Xie Lu stood in the middle of the line, listening to the various guesses and analyses coming from the front and back. Some of them were pretty close to the truth, while others were completely off track.

Although his face remained expressionless, he had a strange feeling in his heart.

The characters and plots I wrote on the manuscript paper have now truly become part of what many people talk about, think about, and speculate about.

This feeling was even more subtle than when he received the royalties in his own hands.

Chu Yunfei stood on tiptoe to look ahead, then turned to count the number of people behind him, muttering, "It's uncertain. We're not at the very front of the line, so we don't know how many newspapers will arrive."

Zhou Wenbin pushed up his glasses and said in a low voice, "I heard that because the first half was so well received, a lot more copies were printed this time."

"But there are just too many people," Chen Xiangdong rubbed his hands together. "Look, the line is still getting longer."

Indeed, in just a short while, another ten or so people lined up behind them, some of whom had clearly run there and were still slightly out of breath.

The waiting time felt incredibly slow.

Some people took out their vocabulary books and quietly memorized words, some took out steamed buns and ate breakfast with pickled vegetables, and many more continued their endless discussion about "Infernal Affairs".

Finally, the green tin window of the newsstand was pushed open from the inside with a "bang".

The line instantly stirred, with everyone pushing forward half a step and craning their necks.

The familiar face of the newsstand owner appeared in the window; he was a man in his fifties with thinning hair.

He was used to this scene and remained calm, holding a stack of brand-new newspapers that still smelled of ink.

"The 'Contemporary' magazine, newly arrived, limited quantity, one copy per person." His voice was not loud, but it was enough for the people in the front rows to hear clearly.

As soon as he finished speaking, the person at the front eagerly handed over the money. The shopkeeper took the money and handed over the newspapers with swift movements.

The line began to slowly incline forward.

Everyone kept a close eye on the person in front of them, afraid that by the time it was their turn, the stack of newspapers would be empty.

Chu Yunfei stamped his feet impatiently: "Hurry up, hurry up... Hey, you in front, stop dawdling!"

Chen Xiangdong remained relatively calm, but he was also stretching his neck out quite far.

Looking at his roommates' tense expressions, Xie Lu felt a little amused, yet also found the scene strangely vivid.

It is a passion for words that belongs to this era and to this group of young people—a passion that is most direct and sincere.

The line was getting shorter and shorter, and there were only five or six people left in front of them. They could clearly see that the newspapers piled up by the window were getting shorter at a visible speed.

"How much is left?" someone asked loudly.

The shopkeeper didn't even look up: "There aren't many left. Don't line up anymore, come back tomorrow."

These words immediately drew sighs of frustration and resentful chatter from the back of the line.

Some people hesitated for a moment and then turned and left, while others stubbornly stayed where they were, hoping to try their luck.

Finally, it was the turn of the person in front of Chen Xiangdong and his group. After that person bought a copy, only a thin layer of newspapers and magazines remained on the stack in the window, and it looked like there were at most four or five left.

Chu Yunfei reacted with lightning speed, practically lunging to the window and shoving the money for all four people through the window: "Four books! Boss, we want four books!"

The shopkeeper counted the money, then looked at the few remaining newspapers and magazines, and shook his head: "You four bought them together, right? Just one copy, do you want it? We need to leave some for the rest."

As he spoke, he pulled out a newspaper and handed it over.

Chu Yunfei was dumbfounded: "Huh? Just one book? There are four of us!"

The shopkeeper shrugged: "That's all. There are other people waiting. Take it if you want, otherwise I'll sell it to someone else."

Immediately someone behind shouted, "I want it! I want it! Don't give it to me!"

"We want it!" Chen Xiangdong quickly took a newspaper, afraid that someone would snatch it away and they wouldn't be able to get even one.

The four of them squeezed out of the line with a newspaper in hand, looking as if they had survived a disaster.

Looking back, the last few books at the window were instantly snatched up, and those who didn't get any had faces full of disappointment. Some of them still asked the shopkeeper when the stock would be restocked the next day.

"Alright, one is better than nothing." Chu Yunfei took one and eagerly flipped through it, but the cover story wasn't "Infernal Affairs." He quickly looked up the table of contents.

"Let's go, let's find a place to look," Chen Xiangdong said. Squatting by the roadside was obviously not a good idea; there were too many people and it was too noisy.

The four of them walked along the street and found a breakfast shop that looked fairly clean. The shop was small, with four or five square tables, where some students were already eating breakfast. They went in and ordered four bowls of hot dry noodles.

While waiting for the noodles, Zhou Wenbin carefully laid out the only newspaper on the table.