Experiencing Interruptions?

The Crush Proof

Working-class Chong spent half of his life proving his crush for gymnast Jiaye wasn't just 'puppy love'—writing endless letters, laboring to give her 'a better tomorrow.' Yet their fear of loss bred misunderstanding. What if she valued the promise he kept forgetting over the proofs he kept giving?

  • Kai Kevin Huang
    Director
  • Na LÜ
    Writer
  • Kai Kevin Huang
    Writer
  • Chao Wang
    Writer
  • Shunping Liu
    Producer
  • Kai Kevin Huang
    Producer
  • Kaixiang Huang
    Key Cast
  • Dongyu Zhou
    Key Cast
  • Project Type:
    Short
  • Runtime:
    22 minutes 2 seconds
  • Completion Date:
    April 10, 2025
  • Production Budget:
    70,000 USD
  • Country of Origin:
    China
  • Country of Filming:
    China
  • Language:
    Chinese
  • Shooting Format:
    RED
  • Aspect Ratio:
    2.39:1
  • Film Color:
    Color
  • First-time Filmmaker:
    No
  • Student Project:
    No
Distribution Information
  • HKK Film Company
    Distributor
    Country: China
    Rights: All Rights
Director Biography - Kai Kevin Huang

Directing | Shanghai Film Academy, Shanghai University (2005)
Producing | University of Southern California (USC) School of Cinematic Arts (2018)

Huang Kai Kevin, born in 1983 in Shanghai, China, is a versatile filmmaker whose work spans feature films, TV series, documentaries, and interactive media. His debut feature, Park Shanghai (2009), screened at over a dozen international festivals, including Moscow, Shanghai, and Taipei. His TV series The Curious Journey of Chen Ergou (2016) garnered 1.6 billion views on Tencent Video. Later he produced and directed web series Life Under My Skin (2020) and the innovative interactive film-game Code Name: Daybreak (2025). His works have screened at more than 40 international film festivals and have earned him over 30 awards, showcasing his commitment to storytelling that resonates both artistically and commercially.

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Director Statement

This film began with a simple, haunting question: How often do we love others the way we want to be loved, rather than how they need to receive it?

Wang Chong and Gao Jiaye’s story is a collision of two mismatched translations of devotion. Chong speaks in proofs—letters, labor, promise of a materially prosperous future. Jiaye listens for presence—shared silences, daily bread, the unremarkable but synchronizing moments that become a life. These small assurances are her quiet rebellion against the insecurity seeded in her early gymnast days, where failure on the mat taught her to crave constancy over grand gestures. Their tragedy isn’t a lack of love, but a failure to recognize its dialect.

Take a look at the contrast: the ​precision of gymnastics vs. the ​chaos of Chong’s hustle; treasured letters (transcribed in notebooks by Jiaye) vs. ​fleeting touches (missed in real time). The ​non-stop weddings filming against hollow texts to Jiaye's never-reply number.

The film’s structure mirrors their disconnect. Early scenes burst with the kinetic energy of pursuit (Chong’s sprinting bike rides, Jiaye’s vaults toward perfection). That final chase scene isn’t about reconciliation. It’s about realization. When Chong runs after Jiaye, he’s not just chasing a person, but the years he misunderstood love itself. The unanswered question hanging over them: If love is a language, how much can be lost in translation before it’s too late?

This is a story for anyone who’s ever loved fiercely… and still gotten it wrong.