RTCBM 23

“Is there anything I can help you with?” Zhuo Fei noticed the man in the suit looked unfamiliar. He wasn’t a regular patron of the troupe and didn’t seem like he was here to find someone. So he walked over and asked politely.

Wen Shang shifted his gaze from the performers rehearsing on stage. He turned to Zhuo Fei and replied, “I was passing by and heard someone singing opera. Got curious and stepped inside. Sorry if I interrupted anything.”

“Not at all.” Zhuo Fei quickly waved his hand, smiling warmly. “We welcome every guest. If you’re interested, I can show you around.”

Wen Shang thought for a moment, then nodded. “I’d appreciate that.”

As they walked through the building, Zhuo Fei introduced the history of the Hongqing Cantonese Opera Troupe and took Wen Shang to see every corner, from the props room to the costume department, then the practice hall.

“Hongqing was founded in the 1950s. We’ve weathered all kinds of storms and even faced the risk of closing, but we pulled through every time. Right now, our troupe has forty-seven members.” He pointed toward a middle-aged man sitting on a carved wooden chair giving instructions to a group of newcomers. “That’s Lu Qiming, my teacher. He’s the eighth-generation head of our troupe.”

After that, Zhuo Fei led Wen Shang to a wall covered with photos. “Look, the top row shows our heads from each generation. The photos below are the rest of the troupe members.”

Wen Shang glanced over the wall casually. Each person was photographed without makeup. Without their dramatic stage looks, he was surprised to realize many of them were just teenagers or young adults.

As his gaze swept across the wall, it snagged on one particular photo. Something about it jolted him.

He stopped and looked back.

It was a boy in a blue-and-white school tracksuit, probably around fifteen or sixteen. His features were sharp and lively, lips red, eyes bright. A small blue fish-shaped earring dangled from his left ear. He tilted his chin upward with a smug little grin and squinted playfully at the camera. The corners of his mouth curled into a smirk with just the right amount of arrogance. It was the kind of unruly charm only someone that age could pull off. No doubt this was the kind of boy who would have all the girls in school chasing after him.

There was a small slip of paper taped to the lower corner of the photo. It had a name on it.

Mu Yuan.

What surprised Wen Shang wasn’t that Mu Yuan used to be part of this Cantonese opera troupe. It was the fact that they had actually met long before the land auction where all the chaos between them began.

Everyone goes through a rebellious phase. Wen Shang was no exception. Born with a silver spoon, spoiled by everyone since birth, he had always been the center of attention. But being the only child in the family, all his parents’ hopes and expectations had been placed squarely on his shoulders. Even the people he was allowed to be friends with had to be carefully screened and approved.

That kind of long-term suffocation eventually exploded when he was seventeen. He had a huge fight with his father, Wen Yuan, and ran away from home.

With nowhere to go, headphones on and head down, he wandered the streets aimlessly. When he finally looked up again, he had unknowingly walked all the way from the new district to the old.

It had rained earlier that morning, and the uneven roads of the old city were filled with puddles. Mu Yuan was riding a bike down the narrow street. His brakes weren’t working well, so every time he ran into trouble, he had to yell.

“Hey! Move to the side up there!”

Wen Shang was lost in his music. The volume in his headphones drowned out any warning from behind.

Mu Yuan noticed he wasn’t reacting and shouted even louder. “You in front! Can’t you hear me? Move! There’s a bike coming through!”

The road was narrow and packed with people and vehicles. Mu Yuan didn’t have time to swerve. He zoomed past Wen Shang, and the wheels of his bike rolled right through a dirty puddle. A full splash of filthy water shot up and drenched Wen Shang on the spot. By the time he realized what had happened, the bastard who did it was already long gone.

Seething with rage, Wen Shang tore off his headphones and yelled after the figure speeding away. “What the hell is wrong with you? Do you even know how to ride a damn bike?”

Mu Yuan turned his head just enough to shout back. “I told you to move. It’s not my fault you were too busy blasting your music to hear me.” Then he pedaled off again and vanished around the corner at the end of the block.

Wen Shang had left the house in such a hurry he forgot his wallet. Hungry, tired, and already in a foul mood, now drenched in dirty water thanks to some inconsiderate idiot, he had nowhere to dump his anger. In the end, he had no choice but to sit under an old banyan tree by the roadside and sulk.

As evening approached, a familiar voice rang through the street, loud and confident.

“Coming through! Move it! Make some space!”

Mu Yuan had just finished a delivery errand for Lu Qiming and was returning the same way. As he passed the banyan tree, his eyes landed on the boy sitting under it. He dragged his foot on the ground to brake the bike, parked it, and casually walked over to Wen Shang.

With a grin, he nudged Wen Shang’s shoulder. “Sorry about earlier. I was in a rush and didn’t have time to stop.”

Wen Shang slapped his hand away and glared at him but said nothing.

Mu Yuan wasn’t the least bit bothered. Still smiling, he plopped down beside him without asking. “What’s your name?”

Wen Shang frowned and scooted away.

Mu Yuan scooted a little closer. His eyes stayed on Wen Shang’s school uniform, visibly intrigued.

“Hey, isn’t that the uniform from that fancy private school in the new district? What are you doing all the way over here in the old town? You don’t look like someone from around here.”

“What’s it to you?”

“You’re still mad, huh? Come on, don’t be like that. I really didn’t mean to splash you. Let me apologize again, all right?” Mu Yuan clasped his hands together in mock sincerity. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“Get lost.”

“Man, you’re cold. Are you always like this with people?”

“I told you to get lost. Are your ears broken?” Wen Shang turned to glare at him again, his tone sharp and irritable. The mood suddenly grew tense and quiet.

Mu Yuan blinked and was about to speak when a strange rumble cut through the silence. Both of them paused and looked at each other. Then it happened again, louder this time.

The noise came from Wen Shang’s stomach.

He turned his face away, clearly embarrassed, trying to pretend nothing had happened. Mu Yuan held back a laugh and without another word, hopped up and dashed across the street to a food stall.

When he came back, he was holding two steaming bowls of vermicelli shark fin soup.

He handed one of them to Wen Shang, smiling like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Here, this one’s for you.”

Wen Shang glanced down at it but didn’t move to take it.

“Come on, don’t just sit there. Take it already.” Mu Yuan nudged him, and Wen Shang reluctantly accepted the bowl.

The two of them sat side by side on the stone bench under the old banyan tree, quietly eating their soup. The golden sunset spilled across the rooftops and alleyways of the old city, casting a soft, warm glow over everything. The bustling streets and the noise of passing cars and pedestrians somehow felt distant here. Even Wen Shang’s tightly wound frustration began to ease.

“Do you live in the old district?” Mu Yuan asked out of nowhere.

“No.”

“Then what are you doing here? Visiting someone? A friend? Relatives?”

Wen Shang paused for a second. “Had a fight with my dad. I don’t feel like going home.”

Mu Yuan widened his eyes, eager for the story. “Ooh, you fought with your dad? Spill the details.”

“He thinks I should follow his script. Do everything by his book. I’m supposed to act a certain way, study what he tells me, hang out with people he approves of. Sometimes I just really hate him.”

“So you argued and ran away from home?”

Wen Shang gave a small shrug, which served as his answer.

“Tsk tsk. Let me tell you, going against your dad like that won’t get you anywhere. In the end, you’re the one who’s going to suffer.” Mu Yuan looked like he’d been through it all, acting like some seasoned adult as he shared his wisdom. “You gotta learn to adapt, to play along when it counts. If your dad wants you to do something, just humor him. Put on a little act to make him happy. Once he’s in a good mood, he won’t bother you anymore. All you have to do is become the version of you that he likes when he’s around, and then go back to doing whatever the hell you want behind his back. Win-win. Everyone’s happy.”

“You make it sound so easy. You ever tried it yourself?”

“Of course I did. It works like a charm, that’s why I’m telling you to try it.” Mu Yuan thumped his chest like he was swearing an oath. “Trust me, you won’t regret it.”

Wen Shang looked him over with curiosity, finally noticing the small blue fish-shaped earring hanging from his left earlobe.

Just as he was about to say something, Mu Yuan jumped to another question. “By the way, what’s your name again?”

Wen Shang stirred his spoon in the bowl and smirked. “Why should I tell you?”

“Come on, we’re friends now.” Mu Yuan reached out and poked him on the shoulder.

“Are you always this clingy with strangers?” Wen Shang gave him a side glance.

“It’s not clingy. It’s called being friendly and outgoing.” Mu Yuan pouted.

The two of them were in the middle of an easy conversation when another boy wearing the same school uniform as Mu Yuan rode by on a bicycle. He stopped under the banyan tree.

“Hey, Muyu!” He called over with a shout. “Your master’s looking for you. Said you went off to deliver something and never came back. The troupe’s rehearsing and you’re the only one missing. If you don’t haul ass back now, you’re screwed.”

“Shit. Shit shit shit. I completely forgot about that!”

Mu Yuan smacked himself on the forehead in frustration, then quickly slurped down the rest of his bowl in one go. He stood up, dusted off his pants, and ran to grab his bike.

“You heading back already?”

Mu Yuan gave an apologetic grin. “Sorry, I got too caught up talking to you and completely forgot I had something to do. Next time we meet, you can finally tell me your name. I hang around this banyan tree pretty often. See you around!”

After that day, Wen Shang went back to the old neighborhood several more times. Same spot, same time. He waited. But that boy never showed up again.

He had even practiced how to say his name in a way that felt natural but still cool, striking that perfect balance between nonchalant and sincere. But it never came to pass.

Eventually, the excitement turned to disappointment. Then the disappointment turned to a lingering question. Why had he become so fixated on someone he’d only met once? Was it just curiosity? Or was it something more?

No, of course not. He told himself it wasn’t like that. He just wanted a chance to properly introduce himself. That was all.

There’s always a point in life when your emotions outrun your reason, when hormones drown out logic. Back then, Wen Shang hadn’t yet realized that this was what had truly stirred something in him.

That fleeting encounter became one of the small regrets of his youth. And what remained in his memory was that playful boy with the little blue fish earring, and the quiet moment they shared beneath the old banyan tree, eating bowls of street-side shark fin soup.