Chapter 6 – When Orioles Take Flight

Even though he had mentally prepared himself and was confident he wasn’t nervous, Jiang Ruo still felt a sense of relief wash over him upon hearing an affirmative response.

“How about we meet,” he said. “You choose the time.”

Xi Yufeng didn’t object. About half an hour after hanging up the phone, he sent a text with an address, setting the time for the day after tomorrow at five in the afternoon.

Presumably, people like them were very busy — billions of assets changing hands every minute — and could only spare a moment to meet with “commoners.” Jiang Ruo should be grateful for this audience and then quietly step back.

But Jiang Ruo refused to do so.

He replied with a text: There’s a scheduling conflict, can six o’clock work?

A few minutes later, Xi Yufeng responded: Yes.

In reality, an actor at Jiang Ruo’s level didn’t need to worry about schedules.

But there were always personal matters to attend to. For instance, on this day, he was going to audition for a production team.

Lin Xiao had helped him secure this opportunity, explaining that it was a new film and television company investing in the project, so there weren’t too many stale rules and regulations; anyone could try out for roles they were interested in.

Jiang Ruo chose the third male lead, a reserved and deeply affectionate character who harbored a secret love for the female lead, with few scenes and lines, and little presence overall.

The important thing was that the competition wasn’t fierce, making his chances of success higher.

The audition was scheduled for the afternoon, at a hotel.

Other main roles were also auditioning here. The production team had booked several rooms, with signs outside each door, and the hallways were crowded with people.

Most were young, fresh faces. Jiang Ruo stood in the shortest queue, counting the number of people waiting in front of the doors of the other rooms. In his mind, he increased his odds of success by ten percent.

The first and second male leads were virtually impossible to obtain, considering there might already be predetermined candidates.

Although Jiang Ruo, who had been repeatedly discouraged in auditions, was now a conservative type, when he passed by the room for the second male lead auditions, he couldn’t resist taking a peek inside.

He had read the script during his hospital vigil. The second male lead was a dancer, with fewer romantic scenes than the first male lead and the female lead, but his career arc was richly detailed.

He and the female lead were childhood sweethearts. From a young age, he loved dancing, but on the path to the pinnacle, an accident left his Achilles tendon ruptured, preventing him from ever again performing his beloved ballet. As a result, he became disillusioned and depressed during the best years of his youth. Later, through a fortuitous awakening, he switched his main dance style, returned to the stage, shone once more, and thus experienced rebirth.

Jiang Ruo was most interested in this role. After flipping through a few pages of the script, even An He commented that this role seemed tailor-made for him.

But what did suitability matter? Jiang Ruo looked at the male actor auditioning inside, clearly unprepared, unable to properly position his arms for ballet — it looked like a duck strutting around.

Suppressing the urge to switch queues, Jiang Ruo turned away and forced himself to divert his attention elsewhere.

The audition went smoothly. The casting director picked a section of dialogue that Jiang Ruo had rehearsed beforehand.

It was hard to say how it would turn out, given the many uncertainties. The casting director told him to wait for news, so Jiang Ruo bowed to the evaluators’ panel and left.

Stepping outside, he looked up at the sky. When he arrived, he could see a sliver of sunlight through the clouds, but now it was heavily overcast, brewing a rainstorm of uncertain origin.

To save money, Jiang Ruo took the bus.

Weather changes affected traffic, causing congestion on major city roads, which extended his travel time. By the time Jiang Ruo reached his destination, thirteen minutes had already passed since six o’clock.

Dashing into the office building and informing the receptionist that he was there to see Xi Yufeng, Jiang Ruo clearly saw the girl’s hesitation. Just as he was about to pull out his phone to verify his identity, a voice came from the side.

“Are you Mr. Jiang?”

Jiang Ruo turned his head and saw a young man in a suit walking towards him. “Yes,” he hurriedly replied.

“Mr. Xi has sent me to escort you,” the young man gestured, “please follow me.”

Jiang Ruo had originally assumed he would be taken to the top floor. According to TV drama tropes, CEOs’ offices were always located at the highest point, allowing them to overlook the entire city from their floor-to-ceiling windows.

Or perhaps to conduct some passionate activities openly, even with the windows and doors open.

But the elevator stopped at the fifteenth floor. Jiang Ruo followed the young man for just a few steps before arriving at the door of a meeting room with its door slightly ajar.

Inside, Xi Yufeng was indeed sitting at one end of the long table, his right hand resting on the armrest of his chair, while his left held a document-like object.

In the same hand, between his index and middle fingers, was a cigarette.

At the sound of footsteps, Xi Yufeng lifted his eyes, put down the document, and casually extinguished the cigarette in the ashtray beside him.

The window was open, and the faint smell of tobacco dissipated. By the time Jiang Ruo sat down at a distance neither too close nor too far from Xi Yufeng, the scent was almost imperceptible.

Unable to detect the information through his sense of smell, Jiang Ruo’s vision filled in the gaps. This was the first time he observed the man fully awake, matching the person before him with the memories in his mind, making the vague details concrete.

On the morning after, Jiang Ruo had woken up once.

Exhausted, he struggled to open his eyes halfway, seeing a man standing by the bed, dressing.

The shirt buttons fastened from bottom to top, reaching all the way to the base of the throat. Viewed from the side, this person’s shoulders, neck, and jawline appeared superior, and with a slight turn, the outline of his pectoral muscles could be clearly seen.

And now, Xi Yufeng was fully dressed, making Jiang Ruo, who had seen him disheveled, somewhat uncertain, as if the man from that night and the one before him were two different people.

At least the Xi Yufeng from that night had warmth, unlike now, where he was overly cool, as if a living person hadn’t entered, but rather an insignificant puff of air.

Facing the unobscured gaze of the newcomer, Xi Yufeng’s reaction was to raise his hand to look at his watch, saying, “You’re late.”

It wasn’t a tone of blame, but rather a statement of fact.

It left Jiang Ruo momentarily stunned, taking a while to respond, “…there was traffic on the road.”

Fortunately, Xi Yufeng didn’t seem intent on holding it against him. He got straight to the point, “What do you want, have you thought about it?”

Jiang Ruo felt he was having trouble keeping up with the other party’s pace. Based on his experience, in these kinds of quasi-extortion scenarios, the party being extorted should put up their guard, at least take the initiative to set boundaries, telling him what he could ask for and what was out of the question.

But it also saved the trouble of wasting words.

So, Jiang Ruo said straightforwardly, “I want to borrow money.”

Then he stated a six-digit figure starting with “three,” enough for An He’s surgery and subsequent treatment expenses.

Almost immediately after Jiang Ruo fell silent, Xi Yufeng pulled a piece of paper from the documents in front of him, flipped it over to the blank side, and pushed it in front of Jiang Ruo.

“Bank account number.”

The process was unbelievably quick, so swift that Jiang Ruo’s negotiation skills honed from his experiences in the world were never put to use.

With the bank account number in hand, Xi Yufeng handed it to a young man who seemed to be his assistant, instructing him to make the transfer.

Within ten minutes, Jiang Ruo received a text message confirming the transfer, a full three hundred thousand yuan, not a penny less.

Paper and pen were still at hand, and Jiang Ruo wrote his name and ID number below the bank account number on a new line.

This was the purpose of his request for a face-to-face meeting. Giving a commitment in person seemed much more sincere, otherwise, he would appear like a scoundrel who would disappear after swindling the money.

“My name is Jiang Ruo,” he handed the paper back, “I will repay this amount in full within this year. If you don’t trust me, you can leave a — ”

“There’s no need,” Xi Yufeng glanced neither at the paper nor at him, “this is what you deserve.”

Those few words made Jiang Ruo’s heart suddenly grow cold.

Of course, their first meeting was under such circumstances, with him extorting money. Others didn’t know about his past or his character, and naturally, they would assume he had ulterior motives.

The word “borrow” in his mouth was merely a facade in Xi Yufeng’s eyes, intended to sugarcoat things and make the reason for demanding money more legitimate.

Throughout, Xi Yufeng remained at the apex of a high pyramid, overlooking countless ordinary people like Jiang Ruo struggling to survive, without curiosity about why they had fallen into such a state.

So he didn’t even want to know his name, because there was no need for mutual acquaintance.

Not knowing how long had passed, Jiang Ruo heard himself laugh.

It was self-mocking, with a touch of relief. He took back the paper, folding it a few times as he said, “Since Mr. Xi is so generous, I won’t hold back.”

Xi Yufeng asked Jiang Ruo if he wanted anything else, seemingly eager to avoid being entangled with him, becoming a bottomless pit that could never be filled.

Jiang Ruo asked, “Do you think I should ask for anything else?”

He omitted the honorific “Mr.,” the sentiment clear.

Xi Yufeng waited for a while, seeing that the other party couldn’t articulate a specific request, he stood up to leave.

Just two steps out, he heard Jiang Ruo say behind him, “I almost forgot to thank Mr. Xi.”

His tone carried a hint of amusement: “But Mr. Xi may not realize that young people today transfer money through payment apps. Luckily I brought my card today, otherwise, I might not have been able to get this money.”

Xi Yufeng was born at the end of January, and his twenty-eighth birthday had just passed. Being mocked for his age was a first for him.

He wasn’t angry, but he was surprised by the audacity of this boy named Jiang Ruo.

When he was writing his ID number on the paper earlier, Xi Yufeng caught a glimpse of the middle digits.

Twenty-two years old, the age of recent college graduates. No wonder he was impulsive and rash.

Regarding everything between him and Jiang Ruo, Xi Yufeng treated it as handling the aftermath of an unexpected affair. Businessmen were accustomed to solving problems using money as a unit of measurement, preferably converting all crises into cash to settle them once and for all, avoiding further complications.

He hadn’t expected the other party to play by unconventional rules, daring to provoke him with words on the brink of resolution, completely unafraid of his change of heart, leading to a futile outcome.

Leaving the company building, the car drove out of the underground parking lot. Large raindrops spattered sporadically on the windshield.

The car was well-insulated, so when it reached the road surface, looking out the window at a random spot gave the illusion of watching a silent movie.

On the city side, flowing rain, a lone figure standing.

Perhaps lost in thought, Jiang Ruo remained motionless, like a statue. A taxi pulled up in front of him, but he didn’t hurry to approach it, allowing the empty cab to stop and then drive away.

Xi Yufeng was unsure if he was doing it deliberately.

In the few meetings they’d had, this person had presented nothing but calculations in front of him. Easy to see through, and after seeing it too often, it wasn’t particularly interesting.

Still, he instructed the driver to turn around, stopping the car by the roadside.

The window rolled down, and Old Liu, the driver, spoke to the outside at Xi Yufeng’s urging, “Where is Mr. Jiang headed? Let me give you a ride.”

Jiang Ruo was initially stunned. Upon seeing the person sitting in the black business car through the rain curtain, the corners of his lips curled, adding a touch of intrigue to his expression.

He didn’t feign modesty, opening the rear door and ducking inside. Moisture rushed into the car along with him, and through his peripheral vision, Xi Yufeng saw that Jiang Ruo’s hair and shoulders were wet with rain.

He raised his hand to clumsily wipe his face with his sleeve, then unceremoniously pulled several tissues from the storage compartment beside him.

After drying his face, he belatedly realized something, and Jiang Ruo raised his head, his smile polite, “May I use a few of your tissues? Do you mind?”

Judging by his tone, he had regained his composure.

Xi Yufeng averted his gaze indifferently and raised the document in his hand to continue reading.

The road was smooth, and the spacious car resembled a greenhouse traveling through the storm.

After giving his address, Jiang Ruo didn’t make another sound.

It was so quiet that Xi Yufeng almost forgot there was another person in the car.

As he turned the page, his gaze unintentionally swept over the side, catching sight of a slender, fair neck, followed by a pair of large, dark, bright eyes.

They lacked focus, not blinking for a long time, as if picking up on unfinished thoughts from the rain and delving back into contemplation.

As for what he was thinking about, it had nothing to do with Xi Yufeng.

For the next forty minutes, the two people in the backseat were occupied with their own tasks, causing time to pass swiftly.

Arriving near the location Jiang Ruo had mentioned, it was Jiang Ruo who proactively asked Old Liu to pull over to the side, saying that the alleyway ahead was narrow, and once they entered, it would be difficult to exit.

Before getting out of the car, he didn’t forget to thank Old Liu for the ride, as if completely ignoring Xi Yufeng’s presence. He opened the door and stepped out in one fluid motion, not looking back.

Old Liu called after him to take an umbrella, but he only waved his hand without turning around, continuing forward.

This area was home to several old neighborhoods dating back decades. The low-rise buildings were oppressed by the gray-black sky, showing signs of dilapidation on the verge of collapse.

It was a place Xi Yufeng, born in Feng City, had passed by countless times but had never planned to set foot in.

Since he hadn’t thought about it for so many years, he certainly wouldn’t start now. Xi Yufeng told Old Liu, “Let’s go,” and the car started again, turning around at the still spacious intersection.

The change in direction placed Xi Yufeng by the window facing the cluster of buildings, allowing him to see more clearly how the person who had just gotten out of his car returned.

The ground was uneven, and hurried footsteps splashed water everywhere, soaking the pant legs. Jiang Ruo ran to the front of the car and knocked on the window.

“Just now, you asked me if I wanted anything else — ” as the window rolled down, Jiang Ruo wiped the rainwater from his face, “I’ve thought of something now.”

Xi Yufeng’s eyebrows arched slightly, quite surprised.

He maintained his composure, opening his mouth unhurriedly, “Tell me.”

His chest heaved violently because of his panting. In Xi Yufeng’s eyes, Jiang Ruo’s current appearance was secondary to the embarrassment; more prominent was the determination and resolve revealed through his clear, moist eyes — a desperate bet.

And the pride of not giving up or admitting defeat even after experiencing storms.

Now that he had made up his mind, Jiang Ruo wouldn’t hesitate.

He took a deep breath and said, “I want to act in the second male lead role in ‘When Orioles Take Flight.'”

“Mr. Xi is powerful, I’m sure this wouldn’t be too difficult for you, right?”