“Sorry to interrupt. Tonight’s bill for this private room is on me.” Shang Xianwang rasped out a few words, then turned and left.
“Boss, another thirty skewers of lamb, ten of pork belly, and ten of squid!” Shang Xueyan called out from under the plastic awning, twisting his head to shout at the owner busy in front of the barbecue stall.
“Damn, you’re still not full?” Wang Xiantao held three lamb skewers, his stomach nearly stuffed, unlike earlier when he’d wolfed down three skewers in one go, he was now chewing slowly. He furrowed his brow, a little intimidated by Shang Xueyan’s bottomless appetite. “How come I never noticed you had the makings of a bottomless pit?”
“Scram.” Shang Xueyan snatched the two uneaten lamb skewers from Wang Xiantao’s hand. “You should eat less your face has rounded out a whole size.”
“You said yourself tonight that I’d lost weight too.” Wang Xiantao reached out and grabbed one skewer back.
The two ate for an hour and a half, leaving the barbecue joint with bellies round and full. They walked to the subway entrance and took the train home, sharing part of the route before Shang Xueyan said goodbye to Wang Xiantao at a transfer station and headed back to his shabby old rental.
With his stomach too full, the moment he got home he needed to use the bathroom. But someone was in there and wouldn’t come out. He waited nearly half an hour without hearing a single sound of water no idea what the hell they were doing inside.
Shang Xueyan kicked the door twice. “If you don’t come out now, I’m going to pee in your room.”
Finally, a sound came from inside the bathroom. The man cursed, “Fuck.” Shang Xueyan slapped the door a few more times, loud but not with excessive force this door had no telling how many years of service it had seen, wobbling and shaky. He was afraid that if he put any more strength into it, he’d smash the thing to pieces.
With a “bang,” the peeling, paint-chipped bathroom door was yanked open by a man in his thirties.
After the man left, Shang Xueyan stepped in and was immediately driven back out by the cheap cigarette stench flooding his nose and throat. He stood outside the door for over ten seconds of mental preparation, then grabbed the air freshener sitting on the sink and sprayed it all over the three-square-meter bathroom.
The bathroom window had long been broken, only able to open a small crack. Shang Xueyan opened it as wide as it would go, left the door ajar to air the place out for a few minutes, then finally mustered the courage to go back in. He pressed the toilet’s flush button, ran the water three times, and pulled out a disposable toilet seat cover from the storage cabinet.
After finishing his business, he returned to the bedroom and waited another half hour or so, figuring the smoke smell had mostly dissipated, before going back to the bathroom to shower and change. Even after washing, he still felt unclean and decided he’d shower again in a few hours.
He towel-dried his hair a few times, sat on the edge of the bed, and picked up his phone its screen cracked with spiderweb patterns. He opened WeChat. Over the past few days, he’d submitted audition applications to several production crews, all for insignificant minor roles, but no one had contacted him. It looked like none of the crews had taken an interest in him.
He turned off the phone, switched off the fluorescent light on the ceiling, and closed his eyes to sleep.
The next day, he went to work his shift at the coffee shop.
“Xueyan, table nine placed an order.” A coworker set an iced Americano and a matcha latte on a tray and told Shang Xueyan.
Shang Xueyan carried the tray over to table nine by the window. Their shop was a trendy internet-famous café, often visited by influencers and fashionable girls taking photos. Table nine was occupied by two pretty young women, both holding up their phones and recording the whole time.
After serving the meal, Shang Xueyan bent down and was about to pick up the tray to leave when he suddenly caught sight of a figure emerging from the hotel across the glass wall, which was so bright it looked freshly washed. Shang Xueyan’s whole body trembled. He set down the tray and dashed toward the road opposite.
He burst out of the café. The intersection light was green. As he kept an eye on the traffic on the road, he looked toward the spot where he had just seen that person. Unfortunately, the greenery along the road blocked Shang Xueyan’s view, and he saw nothing.
He sprinted across the road, his gaze scanning frantically, until he finally spotted a figure in a deep black suit walking slowly ahead. Because he was running so fast, Shang Xueyan’s heart pounded wildly, thumping so hard it felt like it might leap right out of his chest.
He accidentally bumped into a passerby’s shoulder but didn’t even have time to apologize, rushing urgently after that figure.
“Big brother.” He gasped for breath, grabbing the other person’s arm excitedly and shouting loudly.
The man in the deep black suit turned around, staring at Shang Xueyan with a baffled expression.
Shang Xueyan’s smile froze. His smile vanished. He snapped back to reality. He released the man’s arm and apologized, “Sorry, I mistook you for someone else.”
The ordinary-looking man didn’t bother arguing with him and turned to leave.
Shang Xueyan searched around again but saw no other man in a black suit. His shoulders drooped, and he ran a hand through his hair. Had he just been seeing things?
Shang Xueyan returned to the café. Business was booming today, and his colleagues were struggling to keep up. When the store manager saw him coming back from outside, he said with displeasure, “Shang Xueyan, where did you just run off to? Do you know how busy we are right now? Hurry up and deliver the orders to the customers.”
Shang Xueyan skillfully put on a smile. “I’m on it right away.”
Table seven had ordered a cappuccino. Shang Xueyan carried the tray over to table seven and, unexpectedly, saw someone he recognized.
Shang Xueyan stepped forward with the tray and set the cappuccino beside the man’s hand.
Feng Yu looked up. “Why did you suddenly run out of the store just now?”
Shang Xueyan was slightly surprised inwardly. He hadn’t expected this President Feng to still remember his name, nor to have noticed him dashing out of the café.
But the man’s seat happened to be by the window, and with a turn of his head, he could see the street outside.
Shang Xueyan said, “I thought I saw someone I knew.”
“Not someone you know?”
“I must have been mistaken,” Shang Xueyan said.
Feng Yu lowered his head, picked up the cappuccino with its latte art, and took a sip. Shang Xueyan left table seven.
A dozen or so minutes later, Feng Yu left the café. The driver was already waiting for him in the temporary parking spot at the entrance. Feng Yu opened the car door and got in, then asked, “Have you found the information on him yet?”
“Found it. I just sent it to your email,” the driver replied as he started the car.
Feng Yu opened his phone.
The driver added, “Shang Xueyan, real name Shang Rong. He changed it to a stage name about three months ago.”
The driver continued, “He’s had pretty bad luck. Not long after he signed with Tianli, the company’s top management changed, and he got blacklisted. He could have landed a lead role in a short drama or a second or third lead in a long one, but now he’s just an extra on various sets he’s played corpses, assassins, hidden guards, spoiled young masters, goofballs, and lovesick fools. He’s currently in a lawsuit to break his contract with the company, and he seems to be in serious need of money.”
Feng Yu stared at the information the driver had investigated.
Feng Yu leaned back, relaxing against the chair’s backrest. Thinking of how Shang Xueyan had delivered the coffee with a bright, cloudless smile that showed no sign of being plagued by misfortune, he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Tougher than I expected. That’s rare.”
It wasn’t until one in the afternoon that Shang Xueyan finally had time to grab a boxed meal in the break room. He was a bit picky about food, and everything in the boxed meal was something he disliked, but disliking something didn’t mean he couldn’t eat it going out to eat would cost at least a few dozen yuan at minimum.
As he ate, Shang Xueyan pulled out his phone, which he hadn’t had a chance to check all morning. His gaze suddenly froze. An hour ago, Wang Huan had messaged him: the casting director for the Ji Ming Yue production had taken an interest in him and planned to have him play the female lead’s cousin. Wang Huan had also sent a WeChat number for him to add the casting director.
Hengdian had “role brokers” who posted casting requirements for minor roles on behalf of various productions. Some required auditions, and some required actors to record a video and send it to the crew. Shang Xueyan had sent a video to the broker a week ago for the role in Ji Ming Yue.
The role had a decent amount of screen time not just a pure extra and the scheduled filming period was seven days.
Shang Xueyan: [Thanks, Brother Wang. I’ll add Director Lin on WeChat right away.]
After communicating with Director Lin, Shang Xueyan confirmed he’d need to report to the set in two days.
As dusk fell, Shang Xianwang parked his car at the entrance of the opulent villa and stepped out, closing the door behind him.
The butler opened the towering, imposing alloy gate.
Shang Xianwang walked into the living room. The few people chatting inside all stiffened momentarily the moment they saw him.
Shang Huaimin sat at the very center of the leather sofa. Shang Xianwang addressed him, “Grandfather.”
Shang Huaimin didn’t respond. Suppressing his anger, he said, “Your brother’s first-instance verdict came down today four years and six months.”
“The lawyer says he doesn’t want to appeal. Are you satisfied now?”
Shang Huaimin had one son and one daughter. His son had died in a car accident over a decade ago. His daughter, Shang Murou, extended a hand with elaborately manicured nails and gently rubbed Shang Huaimin’s back. “Dad, don’t get angry.”
Then she looked at Shang Xianwang with displeasure. “Xiao Wang, I know Xiao Ze wasn’t born from the same mother as you, but he’s still the only blood brother your father left you in this world. It was wrong of him to hit you with his car, but that was a moment of impulse.”
“At the hearing a few days ago, you didn’t show up. You don’t know how thin Xiao Ze has gotten.” Wiping the corner of her eye where no tears existed, Shang Murou continued, “He used to be tall and sturdy, and now he’s nothing but a skeleton. Can you really be so heartless as to not give the letter of forgiveness?”
Shang Murou’s son, Du Tian’an, chimed in, “Brother Wang, Brother Ze knows he was wrong. You two are blood brothers just give him a chance.”
“Give him the document.” Shang Huaimin instructed his lawyer.
Lawyer Liang walked over to Shang Xianwang and spread the document open on the red sandalwood coffee table. Shang Huaimin demanded without room for argument, “Lawyer Liang has already prepared the letter of forgiveness. Sign it.”
Shang Bieze could still apply for a second-instance trial, and with a letter of forgiveness, his sentence could still be reduced during the appeal.
Shang Xianwang sat on the single sofa farthest from the Shang family, his right hand holding the Maybach key fob. He glanced over the bold characters on the white paper, his expression still largely unchanged. “You called me back for this again?”
He held the car keys in his palm. The keys weren’t small, but his hand was large enough that he could easily grip them in his fist. Shang Xianwang rose to his feet and said in a calm tone, “I won’t sign.”
He turned and headed for the door, but the moment he took a step, a teacup full of hot tea shattered against his instep. Behind him came Shang Murou’s voice, seemingly trying to persuade Shang Huaimin. Shang Xianwang didn’t look back, striding away with long steps.
Opening the car door, Shang Xianwang settled into the driver’s seat. On the center console sat a polymer clay figurine half the size of a palm, its expression stern as it stared at the road ahead. Shang Xianwang turned the figurine’s head around to face him.
Holding eye contact with the clay figurine for a few seconds, the straight line of Shang Xianwang’s lips curved upward slightly. He said in a low voice, “Ayan, I’m not upset.”
He stared at the figurine for a few more seconds, then replied with a smile, “Alright, I’m heading home now.”