RTCBM 28

“Wen-ge, wait wait wait, don’t be mad. I didn’t mean it just now.” Mu Yuan quickly ran out of the shop and chased after Wen Shang, explaining, “I didn’t hear what you said clearly. I thought you were cussing me out, so I just threw one back out of reflex.”

He laughed sheepishly and tugged at Wen Shang’s sleeve. “Come on, let’s go back and get in line.”

“If you want to eat that, go eat it yourself.” Wen Shang’s attitude hadn’t improved one bit.

Mu Yuan hadn’t gotten what he came for yet, so he tried to smooth things over.
“Alright, alright, we won’t eat it. If you don’t like it, we’ll go somewhere else. Hot pot? Fried chicken? You pick.”

The moment he mentioned fried chicken, Wen Shang’s temper flared up again.
“Shut the fuck up. Eat whatever you want on your own. I’m going back to the company canteen.”

“Come on, don’t be like that,” Mu Yuan said with a shameless grin, trailing behind him like sticky gum on a shoe. No matter how hard Wen Shang tried, he couldn’t shake him off. He didn’t even bother responding anymore.

Mu Yuan’s phone started ringing in his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen. It was Zhuo Fei calling. He picked up immediately.

“Hello? Senior Mu Yuan!” The voice on the other end sounded thrilled. Zhuo Fei was calling to share good news. “I’ve got something great to tell you. Remember how our Cantonese opera troupe got invited to Europe last month for the international cultural festival? This morning, the head of the cultural bureau called and said our performance won first prize. We’re getting a ten-thousand-euro award. Even the national TV station said they want to schedule an interview with the troupe!”

“Holy shit, you guys are amazing!” Mu Yuan’s joy overflowed, as if he was the one who had won.

“Oh, right, Senior Mu Yuan, Shifu said we’re throwing a celebration banquet today at noon. A few tables for the troupe and the neighbors. Can you come? If he sees you there, he’ll definitely be happy.”

“Of course I’ll come!” Mu Yuan answered without hesitation. “Give me a few minutes, I’m on my way now.”

Then he added, “I’ll be bringing someone with me.”

“Is it Yingxiong-ge?” Zhuo Fei asked.

“No, it’s someone none of you have met.”

Zhuo Fei was curious. “Ooh? Senior Mu Yuan, is it future sister-in-law?”

“Quit your bullshit. It’s just a regular…” Mu Yuan paused, thinking hard for a term that could vaguely define what he and Wen Shang had. “Just a regular friend.”

After hanging up, Mu Yuan jogged ahead of Wen Shang, cutting him off and grinning as he rubbed his hands together.

“Wen-ge, don’t go back to the office just yet. Come on, I’m taking you to a feast. Way better than that bland crap in your company’s canteen.”

Seeing that smug grin, Wen Shang suspected it was going to be another weird meal, but before he could open his mouth to refuse, Mu Yuan had already pushed and pulled him into the car.

The celebration banquet was held in the yard of the Hongqing Opera Troupe. Six tables were set up for the troupe, and another six for the local neighbors. A total of twelve tables. Once the crowd filled in, the atmosphere turned vibrant, as festive as a holiday gathering.

Mu Yuan entered the courtyard with Wen Shang, carrying a fruit basket he had picked up on the way. There was still some time before the meal started. Everyone was sitting around chatting and laughing. When they saw Mu Yuan show up, a bunch of younger disciples rushed over in delight, surrounding him and calling out “Senior Mu Yuan” one after another, full of enthusiasm.

Wen Shang, dressed neatly in a suit, didn’t say a word the entire time, but his presence stood out. He was the kind of man you couldn’t ignore. The others started crowding around, bombarding Mu Yuan with questions.

“Senior Mu Yuan, who’s that handsome guy next to you? Come on, introduce him.”

“I feel like he looks a little familiar. Have we seen him before somewhere?”

“Yeah, now that you mention it, I think I’ve seen him too.”

“Oh, I remember now!” Zhuo Fei clapped his forehead. “Mr. Wen, you visited our troupe not long ago, didn’t you? Do you remember me?”

Wen Shang gave him a polite nod.
“You’re Xiao Fei.”

Mu Yuan turned to look at Wen Shang, his expression puzzled. “What were you doing at the Cantonese opera troupe?”

Before Wen Shang could answer, Zhuo Fei, the group’s resident chatterbox, jumped in for him. “It’s like this, Senior Mu Yuan. Mr. Wen passed by here by chance that day and came in to take a look.”

Mu Yuan didn’t dig further into why Wen Shang had come to the old district. He just gave an “oh” in response.

“Senior Mu Yuan, so Mr. Wen is the person you mentioned on the phone earlier?”

Mu Yuan smiled without answering, taking that as a yes. Then he gestured toward Wen Shang and gave the briefest introduction possible. “This is Wen Shang. A friend of mine.” A very loosely defined friend.

Then he turned to Wen Shang.
“These are all junior disciples from the same troupe as me.”

Since Mu Yuan had brought him, everyone was quick to welcome Wen Shang, politely inviting him to the guest table.

“Master Lu, sorry to trouble you today. This is just a small token from me. Please accept it.” Wen Shang handed a bag of tea to Lu Qiming.

“Not a bother at all.” Lu Qiming was in great spirits today and grinned broadly.
“The more the merrier. Just make yourself at home and eat up later.” He looked over the neatly dressed, well-spoken young man in front of him, wondering when their roughneck brat had started making friends with such a refined and cultured gentleman.

“So, Wen-ge, I didn’t lie to you, right?” Mu Yuan winked at him while they were eating.
“How’s the food at this big feast?”

Wen Shang held his bowl, chewing slowly and swallowing before he calmly replied,
“Not bad.”

He ate very gracefully, clearly mindful of his image in front of others. Mu Yuan was the complete opposite. He went full caveman. Chicken leg in one hand, pig trotter in the other, tearing away at them with big bites. Put nicely, it was bold and unrestrained. But truthfully, he just looked like a big, loud brute.

Seeing Wen Shang eating so daintily, Mu Yuan assumed he felt awkward or shy about grabbing food himself. He put down the chicken and pig trotter, picked up a set of public chopsticks, and started grabbing a bit of everything from the table and dumping it into Wen Shang’s bowl.

“This one’s good, try this…”

“This one too, really good…”

“And this one…”

In no time, Wen Shang’s bowl was stacked full with sweet-and-sour ribs, osmanthus fish, braised pork, roasted goose, salt and pepper shrimp…

“This white-cut chicken’s pretty good too.” Mu Yuan grinned, about to place a piece of chicken breast into Wen Shang’s bowl. But halfway through, his chopsticks paused in midair. “Wait, you don’t like chicken, do you?” he mumbled, then dropped the piece into his own bowl.

Wen Shang looked at him in surprise.
“How did you know I don’t like chicken?”

“You said it yourself that time we had dinner at your place.”

Wen Shang was honestly caught off guard. He had mentioned it casually back then and never thought someone like Mu Yuan would actually remember. In Wen Shang’s mind, Mu Yuan had always been a loud, brainless kind of guy. It never occurred to him that Mu Yuan would retain such a trivial detail.

It wasn’t exactly moving, but somehow that small remark made him feel… unusually content.

“Why don’t you like chicken?” Mu Yuan nudged him with his elbow.

“The chicken taste is too strong. I don’t like it.”

“But didn’t you eat fried chicken before?”

“Fried chicken doesn’t smell as strong. I can tolerate it.”

“What the hell…” Mu Yuan rolled his eyes and went back to gnawing on his chicken leg and pig trotter. “If you’re not eating chicken, then just eat more of the other dishes. Don’t hold back.”

Wen Shang glanced sideways at him.
“You’re acting like you’re the host.”

“Of course. I grew up in Hongqing Opera Troupe. This place is half my home. You’re the guest, I’m the host, so of course I have to take care of you properly.” Mu Yuan beamed as he picked up a chunk of braised beef and added it to Wen Shang’s bowl.
“Here, have some of this.”

This bastard… when he was being aggressive, you wanted to beat the crap out of him, but when he softened up, it was impossible to truly hate him. He was too damn much.

The scene was lively. The neighbors, full from food and drink, started teasing Lu Qiming.

“Master Lu, you’ve got so many talented disciples. Why not have them perform a few songs for us?”

Lu Qiming was more than happy to oblige. He sat at the head table, swept his eyes across the group, and landed on their leading actress, Liu Jiaxin. She got the message right away and stood up with a smile.

Then Lu Qiming looked in Mu Yuan’s direction. He pointed at him, then at the outdoor stage in the courtyard.

“Whether Senior Mu Yuan can do it or not, you’ll know as soon as he opens his mouth. Got your phones ready? Make sure to take pictures and record videos!” Zhuo Fei said excitedly as he pulled out his phone. The others followed his lead and quickly whipped out theirs too.

Wen Shang sat quietly at the table, watching Mu Yuan on stage with a fresh kind of interest. His gaze carried a faint curiosity.

It had been years since Mu Yuan last stepped onto a stage, but now, standing before an eager audience, he showed not a hint of nerves. Calm and composed, he looked out and asked,
“What opera do you all want to hear?”

“Anything is fine,” the neighbors said cheerfully.
“We’ll enjoy whatever you two perform.”

Mu Yuan turned to the junior beside him.
“A-Xin, you pick the piece. Choose the one you’re best at.”

“Me?” Liu Jiaxin hesitated. They were going to do a duet, and she had never performed alongside Mu Yuan before. What if she picked a piece he didn’t know or couldn’t match?

Mu Yuan could tell what she was worried about. He smiled and reassured her,
“Don’t worry. Pick whatever you like. I’ll be fine.”

Liu Jiaxin thought for a moment.
“Senior Mu Yuan, how about we sing The Story of the Hairpin?”

“OK.” Mu Yuan gave her a thumbs-up without hesitation. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, quickly running through the lyrics in his head to get into the mood.

The troupe’s musicians joined them for the performance. They went inside to grab their instruments, then came out and sat in a row to accompany the pair live.

The soft notes of the orchestra marked the beginning of the show. Mu Yuan took a deep breath and began singing with his junior:

The purple jade hairpin carries longing,
Lover’s hearts pure and free of doubt.

The purple jade hairpin burdens the heart,
Bitterness and love, tangled and unclear.

Even if heaven and earth fade,
This love stays true without regret.

The purple hairpin can be pawned but not sold…

…

…

Regretful partings stretch across the heavens,
Sorrow turns to hatred, never resolved.

Longing twists tight around the heart,
A dream disturbed for the purple hairpin.

Love still lingers in the shared cup of wine,
The purple hairpin may be pledged, but never sold…

…

…

The purple jade hairpin stirs deep sorrow,
Unclear if it’s fate or a debt to repay.

This was Liu Jiaxin’s first time performing with Mu Yuan, and to her surprise, he didn’t even need a rehearsal. Their coordination was seamless. That reputation he once had as the ace of Hongqing wasn’t just for show.

The moment the duet ended, applause and cheers exploded from the audience. The neighbors and locals were all raving about how perfectly the two had sung together.

“Shifu, look, Senior Mu Yuan still sings really well,” Zhuo Fei said as he pointed toward the stage.

“That’s what you call ‘really well’?” Lu Qiming sat stone-faced and let out a cold snort.
“After not practicing all these years, that little bastard’s voice has gone downhill.”

Zhuo Fei pursed his lips and didn’t argue. Whatever the master said was the final word. But from the way Lu Qiming’s eyes followed Mu Yuan, it was clear he was actually quite pleased. The thing was, Mu Yuan’s personality was so damn cocky. If you praised him even a little, he’d get so smug his tail would shoot up to the sky. Better not feed that ego.

After the food and fanfare, they said their goodbyes to the troupe and the neighbors, then Mu Yuan and Wen Shang headed back the way they came.

The car weaved through the alleys of the old district. As they passed the big banyan tree, Mu Yuan glanced out the window and spotted a street stall selling shark fin soup. Without hesitation, he killed the engine and pulled over.

“Wen-ge, wait for me a sec.” He jumped out of the car and headed for the stall.

He greeted the uncle running the stall with a warm smile and some small talk, then ordered two bowls. When he turned to walk back to the car, he noticed Wen Shang had already gotten out and was now sitting on a stone bench beneath the banyan tree.

Mu Yuan walked over with a grin and handed him one of the bowls.

Wen Shang looked up at him silently, then took the bowl from his hands without a word.

The two of them sat side by side on the bench, scooping up spoonfuls of shark fin soup and eating slowly. This scene had happened once years ago.

Wen Shang’s eyes lingered on Mu Yuan’s face, lost in thought.

Mu Yuan noticed the stare and turned toward him. “What are you looking at? Not gonna eat?”

Wen Shang gave a quick glance at Mu Yuan’s nearly-empty bowl and said, “Your appetite’s impressive.”

Mu Yuan licked his lips and chuckled.
“Of course.”

Then he added, “I’ve been eating from this stall since I was a kid. Damn good stuff. After all these years, the taste hasn’t changed a bit.”

Wen Shang didn’t say anything. He just kept eating quietly, listening to him ramble.

“Back when I was in school, I’d go to the troupe all the time for practice. Every time I passed by here, I had to get a bowl. I’d sit right under this tree and eat it before heading off.”

As Mu Yuan reminisced, his voice carried the warmth of nostalgia.

Same place, same shark fin soup, even the same stone bench they used to sit on. Wen Shang thought back to that day when he was seventeen, and without meaning to, the corner of his lips lifted ever so slightly.

Wen Shang looked like he was in a good mood. Mu Yuan gave it a bit of thought, then decided now was the time to strike while the iron was hot.

“Ahem… Wen-ge.” Mu Yuan leaned in with a grin, tilting his head toward him. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Wen Shang met his gaze. For a moment he thought Mu Yuan might have finally remembered that day, that moment, and recognized who he really was.

Beneath his composed expression, something soft and warm stirred inside him.

Wen Shang didn’t say a word. He just looked at Mu Yuan and waited for him to speak.

Was he going to ask for his name again? Or maybe explain why he had never shown up back then?

The air between them turned still.

“Wen-ge,” Mu Yuan said as he placed a hand on Wen Shang’s shoulder. “So, uh… you remember what happened that night, right? When you came to my place to return my clothes and then…”

He didn’t need to finish. They both knew what he meant.

Mu Yuan went on. “So here’s the thing. I think physically, we’re kinda compatible. It actually felt pretty damn good messing around with you. Looked like you enjoyed it too. So I was thinking… maybe we could become regular fuck buddies? You know, if you ever feel like playing again, I’m down. Five times a week, how’s that sound?”

Wen Shang’s expression, sunny and peaceful just moments ago, suddenly clouded over. Mu Yuan thought maybe the guy was pissed about the frequency and quickly adjusted. “If that’s too much, we can do three times.”

Wen Shang still didn’t respond. Mu Yuan tried bargaining again. “Okay fine, twice. That cool?”

Wen Shang couldn’t take it anymore. His face completely collapsed, like he’d been struck by lightning. He threw down the half-eaten shark fin soup and walked off.

Mu Yuan jumped up to chase after him.
“Wen-ge, come on, don’t be like this. We can talk it out. Don’t go.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Wen Shang completely lost his composure. He stood in the middle of the street, pointing at Mu Yuan and yelling, “From now on, stay the fuck away from me! Come near me again and I swear, right here, right now, I’ll beat the shit out of you!”

Mu Yuan had no idea what was going through Wen Shang’s head. As far as he was concerned, the guy was just mad because he didn’t like the idea of becoming his fuck buddy. That pissed-off figure stormed farther and farther down the street until it vanished around the corner.

“Sick bastard.” Mu Yuan scowled like he’d just chewed a rag. “If you didn’t wanna do it, fine. Fuck you. Acting like you’re so damn special. Weren’t you the one who started it, huh? Fine. You’re out. I’ll just find someone else. Always acting high and mighty… what, you think I’m dying to fuck you? Pfft.”

Wen Shang’s half-eaten bowl of shark fin soup was still sitting on the stone bench. Mu Yuan glanced around and spotted a stray mutt playing nearby. He whistled and waved it over.

“Hey, Doggy. Come here, come here. I’ve got something tasty for you.”

The dog saw him waving and trotted over with its tongue out, settling in front of Mu Yuan. It sniffed at the bowl, then happily started scarfing it down.

“Heh, good boy.” Mu Yuan squatted beside it, propping his chin in his hand as he watched the dog eat with gusto. “You’re way more sensible than that guy Wen. That idiot’s nothing but a spoiled brat. Wastes food all the time and always walks around with that shitty face of his. He pisses me off.”