Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"My apologies for the interruption. The bill for this private room tonight is on me," Shang Xianwang rasped, turning to leave.

"Boss, thirty more lamb skewers, ten pork belly, and ten squid!" Shang Xueyan, seated under the plastic awning, twisted his head to shout at the busy owner of the barbecue joint.

"Damn, you’re still not full?" Wang Xiantao held three lamb skewers, his stomach nearly sated. No longer wolfing down three at a time, he chewed slowly, a slight frown on his face, intimidated by Shang Xueyan’s seemingly bottomless appetite. "How did I never notice you had the potential to be such a glutton?"

"Buzz off." Shang Xueyan snatched the two uneaten lamb skewers from Wang Xiantao’s hand. "You should eat less. Your face is getting round."

"You just said I’d lost weight this evening," Wang Xiantao retorted, reaching out to reclaim one skewer.

After an hour and a half of eating, the two left the barbecue stall with bulging bellies. They walked to the subway station, rode the train home, sharing part of the journey before Shang Xueyan bid farewell to Wang Xiantao to transfer lines and return to his own cramped, dilapidated rented apartment.

His stomach was quite full, and as soon as he got home, he needed the toilet. The bathroom was occupied for almost half an hour, with no sound of water running, leaving him unsure what was happening inside.

Shang Xueyan kicked the door twice. "If you don’t come out soon, I’ll have to use the one in your room!"

Finally, there was movement from inside the bathroom. A man cursed, "Fuck." Shang Xueyan banged on the door a few more times—loudly, but not too forcefully. The door, having seen better days, wobbled precariously. He was afraid that using more force would shatter it.

With a clatter, the peeling, mottled bathroom door was pulled open by a man in his thirties.

After the man left, Shang Xueyan stepped into the bathroom but was immediately driven out by the overwhelming stench of cheap cigarettes. Standing outside for over ten seconds to mentally prepare himself, he picked up the air freshener spray from the sink and liberally sprayed it all over the tiny three-square-meter bathroom.

The bathroom window had long been broken and could only open halfway. Shang Xueyan pushed it open as far as possible, then left the door ajar to ventilate the room for a few minutes. Finally, working up the nerve, he went back in, flushed the toilet three times, and took out a disposable toilet seat liner from his storage cabinet.

After using the toilet and returning to his bedroom, he waited another half hour, estimating that the cigarette smell had mostly dissipated, before going back to the bathroom to shower and change. Even after washing, he still felt unclean and decided to shower again in a few hours.

He towel-dried his hair, sat on the edge of the bed, and picked up his spiderweb-cracked phone. Opening WeChat, he saw that he had applied for several auditions for minor roles in various film crews over the past few days, but no one had contacted him. It seemed none of the crews were interested.

Turning off his phone, Shang Xueyan switched off the overhead light and closed his eyes to sleep.

The next day, he went to work at the coffee shop.

"Xueyan, order for Table 9," a coworker said, placing an iced Americano and a matcha latte on a tray and handing it to Shang Xueyan.

Shang Xueyan carried the tray to Table 9 by the window. Their shop was a trendy internet-famous café, often frequented by influencers and fashionable girls taking photos. Table 9 was occupied by two pretty young girls who were busy recording videos on their phones.

After serving the order, Shang Xueyan bent down to pick up the tray to leave when suddenly, through the sparkling clean glass wall, he saw someone emerge from the hotel across the street. A shiver ran through him, and he set down the tray, dashing toward the opposite side of the road.

He rushed out of the café. The intersection light was green, and while watching for traffic, he scanned the area where he had seen the person. Unfortunately, the roadside greenery blocked his view, and he couldn’t see anything.

He dashed across the street, his eyes frantically searching until he finally spotted a figure in a deep black suit walking slowly ahead. Having run so fast, his heart pounded wildly, as if it were about to leap out of his chest.

Bumping into a passerby’s shoulder, he didn’t even have time to apologize as he hurriedly chased after the retreating figure.

"Big brother!" he gasped, breathless, grabbing the man’s arm excitedly.

The man in the deep black suit turned around, staring at Shang Xueyan with a puzzled expression.

Shang Xueyan’s smile froze, then vanished entirely. He came to his senses, released the man’s arm, and apologized, "Sorry, I mistook you for someone else."

The ordinary-looking man didn’t make an issue of it and walked away.

Shang Xueyan looked around again but saw no other men in black suits. His shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand through his hair. Had he been seeing things?

Returning to the café, he found the shop bustling with business, and his coworkers were swamped. The manager, seeing him return from outside, said unhappily, "Shang Xueyan, where did you run off to? Don’t you see how busy we are? Hurry up and serve the customers."

A practiced smile instantly appeared on Shang Xueyan’s face. "I’ll go right away."

Table 7 had ordered a cappuccino. As Shang Xueyan approached with the tray, he unexpectedly recognized someone sitting there.

He stepped forward, placing the cappuccino beside the person’s hand.

Feng Yu looked up. "Why did you suddenly run out of the shop earlier?"

Shang Xueyan was slightly surprised that President Feng remembered his name and had even noticed him dashing out of the café.

But given Feng Yu’s seat by the window, it would have been easy to see the street outside.

Shang Xueyan replied, "I thought I saw someone I knew."

"Not someone you knew?"

"Probably just a mistake," Shang Xueyan said.

Feng Yu lowered his head, took a sip of the latte art cappuccino, and Shang Xueyan left Table 7.

About ten minutes later, Feng Yu left the café. His driver was already waiting in a temporary parking spot by the entrance. Feng Yu opened the car door and got in, asking, "Have you found his information yet?"

"Yes, it has just been sent to your email," the driver replied, starting the car.

Feng Yu opened his phone.

The driver added, "Shang Xueyan, originally named Shang Rong, changed his stage name just over three months ago."

The driver continued, "He’s had pretty bad luck. Shortly after signing with Tianli, the company’s upper management changed, and he was blacklisted. He used to be able to play lead roles in short dramas or supporting roles in longer series, but now he’s doing bit parts in various crews—playing corpses, assassins, guards, spoiled brats, silly characters, you name it. He’s currently in a legal dispute with the company to terminate his contract and seems to be desperate for money."

Feng Yu scanned the information the driver had dug up.

Leaning back comfortably in his seat, Feng Yu thought of Shang Xueyan’s bright, untroubled smile when serving coffee—nothing like someone weighed down by misfortune. He couldn’t help but smile. "Turns out he’s more resilient than I thought. That's rare."

It wasn’t until 1 p.m. that Shang Xueyan finally had time to eat his boxed lunch in the break room. He was somewhat picky—the food in the box was all stuff he disliked. But disliking it didn’t mean he couldn’t eat it. Eating out would cost him at least a few dozen yuan.

As he ate, he pulled out his phone, which he hadn’t had time to check all morning. His eyes locked on a message from Wang Huan sent an hour earlier: the casting director for the "Jiyue" crew had taken a liking to him and wanted him to play the female lead’s cousin. Wang Huan also sent a WeChat ID, asking him to add the casting director.

Hengdian had casting brokers who helped various crews recruit for minor roles. Some required auditions, asking actors to send videos. The role for the "Jiyue" crew was one Shang Xueyan had submitted a video for a week earlier.

This role had some screen time—not just a pure extra—and the shooting was scheduled to last seven days.

Shang Xueyan replied, "Thanks, Brother Wang. I’ll add Director Lin on WeChat right away."

After communicating with Director Lin, Shang Xueyan learned he needed to report to the set in two days.

As dusk fell, Shang Xianwang parked his car in front of a glittering, luxurious villa and stepped out.

The butler opened the majestic alloy gate.

Shang Xianwang walked into the living room. The few people chatting inside froze for a moment upon seeing him.

Shang Huaimin sat in the center of the leather sofa. Shang Xianwang greeted, "Grandfather."

Shang Huaimin didn’t respond, suppressing his anger as he said, "Your brother’s first trial verdict came out today. Four years and six months."

"His lawyer says he doesn’t plan to appeal. Are you satisfied now?"

Shang Huaimin had one son and one daughter. His son died in a car accident over a decade ago. His daughter, Shang Murou, reached out with her delicately manicured hand, gently patting Shang Huaimin’s back. "Dad, don’t be angry."

She then turned a displeased gaze to Shang Xianwang. "Xiao Wang, even though Xiao Ze isn’t from the same mother as you, he’s still the only brother your father left you with in this world. It was wrong of him to hit you with his car, but that was a moment of impulse."

"A few days ago during the court hearing, you didn’t go. You have no idea how much Xiaoze has wasted away," Shang Murou said, wiping away nonexistent tears from the corner of her eye. "He used to be tall and strong, but now he’s just a skeleton. Are you really so heartless as to refuse to provide the letter of understanding?"

Shang Huaimin’s grandson, Du Tian’an, chimed in, "Wang-ge, Ze-ge knows he was wrong. The two of you are biological brothers—won’t you 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 in an unyielding tone, "Lawyer Liang has already prepared the letter of understanding. Sign it."

Shang Bieze could still apply for a second trial. If a letter of understanding were provided, his sentence would likely be reduced during the appeal.

Shang Xianwang sat on an armchair farthest from the Shang family, holding a Maybach car key in his right hand. His eyes swept over the prominent lettering on the white paper, yet his expression remained largely unchanged. "You called me back just to talk about this again?"

He clenched the car key in his palm. The key was not small, but his hand was large enough to grip it effortlessly. Shang Xianwang stood up and said calmly, "I won’t sign."

Shang Xianwang turned and strode toward the door. Just as he took a step, a teacup filled with hot tea suddenly shattered at his feet. Behind him, Shang Murou’s voice could be heard, seemingly trying to placate Shang Huaimin. Without looking back, Shang Xianwang walked away resolutely.

Opening the car door, Shang Xianwang slid into the driver’s seat. On the center console lay a half-palm-sized polymer clay doll, its expression stern, looking toward the road. Shang Xianwang turned the doll’s head to face him.

After staring at the doll for a few seconds, a slight smile touched Shang Xianwang’s lips. He whispered softly, "A Yan, I’m not unhappy."

Shang Xianwang studied the doll for another moment before smiling and replying, "Alright, I’m going home now."

Author's Note: