The next evening, He Jian Shan and Lin Hui arrived at a music bar called “Hua Li,” where He Jian Chuan was performing tonight. He had reserved a private booth on the second floor for them early on, with food and drinks all set up. The two settled in the booth and watched He Jian Chuan start to sing from below.
He Jian Shan found it quite novel.
During the annual meeting, He Jian Shan hadn’t paid much attention to his performance, only turning back when he heard He Jian Chuan sing “The Answer.” He had once listened to this song over the phone with Lin Hui, and hearing it again filled him with an indescribable warmth, paying no mind to the singer himself. Now, taking the time to closely watch He Jian Chuan’s performance felt somewhat different from usual.
He watched quietly, and Lin Hui, also silent, listened along with him. After a while, He Jian Shan spoke, “I actually still remember what he looked like as a child.”
Lin Hui couldn’t help but laugh, “Saying that, you sound like you’re seventy or eighty.”
He Jian Shan chuckled and turned his gaze back to He Jian Chuan.
The bar’s lights were a bit hazy, casting a bizarre filter on He Jian Chuan. He Jian Shan let the mesmerizing lights sink him into distant memories.
After he went abroad, his grandfather had decided to completely erase Yao Qianyi’s negative influence on him, advising him to focus solely on his studies and life, which meant rare visits back to Jinghua City. As a result, he was only sporadically aware of He Zhao’s affairs from his grandfather, including his plans to marry Jiang Qing. He remembered how his grandfather had cautiously asked if he wanted to come back for the wedding. He Jian Shan had been silent; he was indifferent, yet he felt his grandfather wanted him to attend, so he agreed.
He Zhao and Jiang Qing’s wedding wasn’t grand but a simple meal with friends and family. Watching He Zhao and Jiang Qing smiling and toasting everyone, He Jian Shan felt very odd. He couldn’t help but wonder if it had been the same when He Zhao married Yao Qianyi, the couple flitting about happily like butterflies.
He Jian Shan suddenly regretted coming; he felt like an outsider who didn’t fit in.
When the toasting ended and everyone had returned to their seats, Jiang Qing poured herself another glass and raised it, saying, “Come, let’s have a toast, family.”
He Jian Shan and He Zhao looked at each other.
It was an indescribable moment, even though He Jian Shan was only about fourteen or fifteen at the time, he felt the awkwardness. Jiang Qing seemed oblivious as she stood and clinked glasses with He Jian Shan and He Zhao, swiftly drinking her glass amid the crisp sound of clinking.
Later, when He Jian Shan returned again, He Jian Chuan was already three years old. On that day, when he entered the familiar yet strange house, it was He Jian Chuan who first noticed him.
The child had looked at him earnestly for a while and then called out, “Brother.”
His pronunciation was clear, and He Jian Shan was momentarily stunned.
Hearing the voice, Jiang Qing, who came over, smiled upon seeing He Jian Shan, “Little Shan is back.”
He Jian Chuan then whimsically called out again, “Brother—”
He Jian Shan just watched him.
Jiang Qing seemed to sense his confusion and explained, “We have an album of yours at home, he always loves to flip through it, and we told him that’s your brother. So he learned to call you ‘brother.’”
She, worried that He Jian Chuan might annoy him, quickly clapped her hands and called, “Xiao Chuan, come to mom.”
But He Jian Chuan, excited to see his brother who could move and talk, was very interested in He Jian Shan, cheerfully circling him and calling out “brother, brother,” even eagerly leading him to an electronic keyboard to press all the keys.
He Jian Shan thought it was too noisy, realizing that even a large house could be filled with such clamor.
Years passed, and the once noisy He Jian Chuan was still noisy, now even more so due to his involvement with musical instruments—He Jian Shan found some of his songs genuinely loud.
Snapping back to reality, he heard Lin Hui asking, “Do you think this band could make it big in the entertainment industry?”
He Jian Shan noncommittally responded, “Depends on how much the He family is willing to spend.”
Lin Hui laughed, “So you’re not very optimistic?”
“You’re wrong, I am optimistic. There are plenty who spend money and still don’t make it big.”
Lin Hui looked at him, “Sounds like you know your stuff, especially considering you’ve dated that powerful and beautiful CEO from the entertainment industry.”
He Jian Shan knew Lin Hui was joking but still felt compelled to clarify seriously, “That was a date entirely thought about you.”
They both laughed, then noticed that the music downstairs had stopped, replaced by some noisy disturbances.
Lin Hui looked through the glass, frowning, “What’s going on?”
Downstairs, the “Haystack Poets” band had just finished a set and were taking a break before continuing. The four band members communicated quietly about the songs and scores on stage, their years of collaboration had fostered a strong rapport; they joked and adjusted their instruments, looking relaxed. A moment later, the bar manager approached the stage with a waitress carrying a tray with a drink and a stack of money.
He greeted He Jian Chuan, “Chuanzi, Mr. Liu from booth C3 really likes your band, especially the girl on the drums, he wants to buy her a drink.”
He Jian Chuan looked in the direction the manager pointed—a man not so young, wearing a black bracelet, raised his glass in a gesture, his friends whooping and clapping around him.
Their eyes met for a moment, and He Jian Chuan turned back to the manager with a smile, “We still have a set to go, and Sun Ling gets drunk from just a drop; she won’t be able to play the drums if she drinks.”
Honestly, it wasn’t uncommon for such things to happen in a bar performance. Sun Ling, the only female in the band, had a gentle appearance but was a drummer, which brought a contrasting charm that always captured attention. Thus, every performance had its share of admirers. The few bars they regularly collaborated with knew Sun Ling didn’t drink; when someone offered her drinks, the staff would help decline. If necessary, the male members could drink in her place.
Today’s performance at “Hua Li” was a last-minute favor to a friend, and they hadn’t worked with this bar before. The “Haystack Poets” and the bar weren’t familiar with each other, and some details hadn’t been clarified in advance, so He Jian Chuan’s response was somewhat tactful. After some persuasion from the manager, seeing that the band indeed did not drink, he had to return the drink and money to where it came from.
A burst of exaggerated booing erupted from the booth:
“Old Liu, that won’t do. The beauty doesn’t fancy you.”
“Our Mr. Liu is out of favor now, the young lady doesn’t like your type~”
“You don’t understand, this calls for upping the ante. Don’t believe me? Old Liu, take off your watch and put it up!”
…
The drink-offering “Mr. Liu” was getting upset, his face turning red, whether from the alcohol or anger, it was unclear. He lashed out at the nearby manager, “Mengzi, I’ve been coming here for a while. I was quite happy with today’s new band, just offering a drink to show appreciation, that’s not too much, right? Not even giving this little face?”
The manager kept apologizing, “It’s just how musicians are, stubborn personalities; if they don’t play along, we don’t need to bother them. Let’s just drink, drink. I’ll get you another round of beers.”
“Mr. Liu”’s expression darkened, “What do you mean? You think I’m beneath you? Can’t I afford the drink?”
He stood up abruptly, taking the drink that had just been returned and went back up on stage, grabbed the microphone from He Jian Chuan’s hand, and announced loudly:
“Today, all drinks are on me!” Before the patrons could cheer, “Mr. Liu” waved his hand, pointed at Sun Ling, and added, “—as long as our beauty here drinks this glass!”
The hall went quiet for a few seconds, then sporadic chants of “drink, drink” began to rise. As the noise grew louder, the faces of He Jian Chuan and his bandmates looked increasingly uncomfortable. “Mr. Liu” grinned, pushing the drink towards Sun Ling, “Beauty, whether everyone has a good drink tonight is up to you.”
As the instigating shouts seemed unstoppable, Sun Ling stood pale-faced and silent, but He Jian Chuan could no longer hold back, “Mr. Liu, we don’t drink.”
“Mr. Liu” glanced at him, “Did I ask you?”
He Jian Chuan’s temper flared, “This is my band, and if I say we don’t drink, we don’t drink.”
“Mr. Liu” turned around, staring intently at He Jian Chuan, about to explode, but then a clear voice intervened:
“Since everyone is so happy, why don’t I add a little something to the fun?”
It was Lin Hui.
He was wearing a simple white shirt, his face wearing a gentle smile. Despite the harsh winter outside, it felt like spring had arrived with him; his presence seemed oddly out of sync with the bar’s atmosphere, yet it mysteriously made it seem as though all the lights were meant for him.
Under everyone’s gaze, Lin Hui walked between He Jian Chuan and “Mr. Liu.”
“Mr. Liu” looked displeased, “And you are?”
Lin Hui didn’t respond to him but instead turned to the serious-faced bar manager, who seemed worried about potential conflict and had already called over the security. Lin Hui asked, “What’s the most expensive drink in your bar?”
The manager hesitated, then named a drink.
“Serve one to each table, let everyone drink to their heart’s content, and bill it to booth number three,” Lin Hui mimicked “Mr. Liu’s” tone and added, “As long as everyone calls out the band’s name and asks them to keep singing.”
Honestly, it wasn’t rare for someone to pick up the tab for the whole bar, but to do so generously offering the most expensive drink and letting everyone drink to their heart’s content was truly unprecedented. The bar’s patrons began excitedly shouting, repeating “Haystack Poets” over and over, cheering for the drinks that were about to come.
He Jian Chuan was overwhelmed by the deafening chants; his heart thumped wildly as he stared blankly at Lin Hui, “Brother…”
Lin Hui smiled and winked, whispering, “Your brother’s paying.”
Drinking in a bar was all about the vibe; losing that vibe meant no more pandering. “Mr. Liu,” not being blind to social cues, realized he was outclassed by the younger man’s eloquence and grand gesture, understood he was up against someone formidable, and that his drink was doomed. He grimaced, placed the drink aside, and spread his hands, “Well, then, everyone just—enjoy your drink.” He then returned to his booth without fuss.
Lin Hui nodded at He Jian Chuan, took “Mr. Liu’s” left-behind drink, and poured it into a trash can. The bar manager closely followed him, cautiously inquiring, “About that order you placed, we might not have enough stock on-site—”
Lin Hui turned and smiled, “Manager Meng, today’s profits depend on what you can bring out.”
The manager took a deep breath and turned to the waitstaff, “Quick, quick, start calling, get the drinks!”
Lin Hui returned to the booth.
He Jian Shan was looking at his phone. Hearing the door, he didn’t look up but asked, “How was it? Fun?”
Lin Hui took a sip of water, sharing his thoughts, “Quite thrilling. Forget those who drank; even I, who didn’t drink, felt my adrenaline rush.”
“Would you do it again?”
“Let’s not. Once is enough; I’m afraid I might get addicted.”
He Jian Shan smiled and looked up, “What’s there to fear? Booth number three has your back.”
After a while, He Jian Chuan’s performance ended. He said something to his teammates and quickly came to He Jian Shan and Lin Hui’s booth. When he entered, the two were sitting together, looking at something on a phone, creating an atmosphere that made He Jian Chuan feel quite superfluous. Seeing him enter, Lin Hui smiled, “Is it over?”
He Jian Chuan looked at He Jian Shan, nervously rubbing his hands, “Brother, Lin Hui Brother, why didn’t you drink?”
He Jian Chuan had ordered them drinks earlier, but they hadn’t touched the bottle, instead, they had finished all the mineral water.
“We mainly came to listen to you sing today, so we didn’t drink.”
He Jian Chuan, recalling the earlier incident, said to He Jian Shan, “Brother, I’m sorry about the expense today. Also, Sun Ling asked me to thank you.”
He Jian Shan glanced at him, “The environment here is still lacking.”
He paused, then added, “Do you guys want to sing at ‘Xu’?”
He Jian Chuan immediately lit up, his eyes sparkling, “Can we?”
As one of Jinghua City’s most famous and popular bars, “Xu” had high standards for its resident bands, even described as picky. Bands that could sing at “Xu” were truly skilled, even the currently popular “Red Queen” band had started there. Was He Jian Shan implying they were ready for that level?
He Jian Shan looked at him strangely, “Yes, I’m a shareholder.”
He Jian Chuan: “…Oh.”
“Oh, right,” He Jian Chuan remembered something else, hurriedly adding, “Today, when Lin Hui Brother was helping me downstairs, I saw someone filming with a phone, is that okay?”
Lin Hui paused, “Should be fine, I’m just a regular customer.”
Lin Hui spoke too soon, as when they were leaving, someone indeed recognized him.
As he and He Jian Shan were talking and heading to the exit, Lin Hui was tapped on the shoulder—
“Hey, what a coincidence, it’s you!”
The speaker was a tall, young man in a sleek gray coat. Lin Hui stopped to look carefully, realizing he didn’t know him, “You are?”
“We’ve met at ‘Xu’, remember?”
“‘Xu’? Are you a friend of Boss Xue?”
The young man smiled, which was as good as a confirmation, “I’m Li Zhihui, but you can call me Stephen.”
He Jian Shan thought Lin Hui had run into a friend and stood quietly aside waiting for their chat to finish. However, when Li Zhihui mentioned Stephen, He Jian Shan looked over:
Stephen Li, the overseas returnee who had been waiting for Lin Hui in the bar.
Because of the holiday, there were more people in the bar than usual. He Jian Shan, who naturally drew attention, noticed several girls lifting their phones towards them. Lin Hui, feeling uneasy, quickly said, “Sorry, I have to leave now, we’ll talk next time.” With that, they hurried out.
“Hey—” Li Zhihui quickly followed, only to see Lin Hui walking towards the parking lot. He said something to the tall man next to him, his face breaking into a bright smile, while the man next to him fixed his hat and then took his hand.
When they got home, Lin Hui asked, “Did you have fun today, President He?”
Lately, Lin Hui had taken to calling He Jian Shan “President He” in private. What had been a standard address for years had gradually taken on a special meaning. It’s no wonder many companies ban office romances, Lin Hui thought, indeed intoxicating.
“The person who stopped you when we were leaving, I know him,” He Jian Shan didn’t answer his question but brought up something else.
Lin Hui didn’t understand why he mentioned this, “You know him? Who is he? Isn’t he a friend of Boss Xue?”
He Jian Shan smiled, “The elite returnee Stephen Li, Xue Pei gossiped to me that he can’t stop thinking about you, waited at ‘Xu’ for a long time.”
Lin Hui quickly clarified, “I don’t know him. Besides, what does it matter if he can’t stop thinking about me? I used to dream about you every day.”
He Jian Shan perked up, “Dream about what?”
Lin Hui became alert, suspiciously eyeing He Jian Shan, but He Jian Shan was seriously looking at him, seemingly very curious about the dream’s story involving Lin Hui and He Jian Shan.
Lin Hui mumbled vaguely, “Just… doing some things…”
He Jian Shan looked puzzled, “What things?”
Lin Hui considered his words, “Let’s just say, if the things we did in the dream were written as a novel and posted on a writing site, it might get chopped, that kind of dream.”
He Jian Shan’s expression remained calm, “Oh.”
Lin Hui watched him, waiting to see how long he would pretend.
After a while, He Jian Shan turned and kissed Lin Hui’s cheek, “That kind of dream?”
Lin Hui couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head silently.
He Jian Shan laughed, his face slowly moving down, then bit Lin Hui’s lip, asking again, “Was it that kind of dream?”
Lin Hui’s smile grew wider, and he wrapped his arms around He Jian Shan.
“Really curious, Assistant Lin, won’t you show me?” He Jian Shan invited.
His hand had already slipped under Lin Hui’s shirt, and Lin Hui finally laughed out loud,
“It’s a very… interesting dream.”
Author’s Note:
He Jian Shan: Let me see how interesting.
