I want to fly higher, fly higher, dancing like the fierce wind, breaking free from the embrace… Wings stirring up a storm, a roar born in the heart… The life I want is more brilliant, the sky I want is a deeper blue…
Back in school, Chen Jian had never felt anything for this song, which might abruptly blare over the loudspeakers at any given moment. At most, he’d hum a few lines along with it. Aside from the chorus, today was the first time he had actually figured out the lyrics.
It seemed Chen Erhu and his crew were in the same boat. They could all sing it, but none of them actually knew the words.
Perhaps because the atmosphere was different from their school days. Although this group had never done a single day of proper work in their lives, they had been messing around in society for years now. Their state of mind had changed. Now, looking back and singing this song again, each of them felt something different.
When Sanbing tilted his head back and tore his throat open to yell, tears shimmered in his eyes. Chen Erhu simply put the microphone down and turned his head away, clearly already crying and stealthily wiping his tears. Though Lao Wu wasn’t crying, he maintained a tearful, nasal tone the entire time, giving off the impression he might burst into tears in the next second. Only the roughest of the bunch, Lao Si, hadn’t cried and had no tearful tone; instead, he entered a state so serious it looked as if he were trying to eat the microphone.
Chen Jian made a mental note: the disposable cover on that specific microphone was blue. Do not mix them up. Even if he only sang two songs all night, he absolutely did not want to use the microphone Lao Si had practically eaten.
After finishing the song, Shan Yu placed his microphone back on the coffee table and grabbed a bag of potato chips.
Sun Nana selected a very soft English song, held the microphone stand, and began to hum softly, her body swaying slightly to the music. Compared to the chaotic demon dance from earlier, right in this moment, she looked like a resident lounge singer.
Even though Chen Jian had never heard this song before, he could at least tell Sun Nana sang quite well—almost on par with Shan Yu.
“What do you want to sing? I’ll queue it up for you,” Chen Jian leaned into the sofa, squeezing next to Shan Yu, and asked in a low voice.
The lighting in here was very dim, and everyone was sitting close together. As his arm pressed against Shan Yu’s, he felt completely relaxed, devoid of the guilty feeling of sneaking around like a thief.
“I usually just listen,” Shan Yu turned his head and whispered back. “It’s rare for them to come out and play, let them sing until they’re satisfied. We capitalists can go on a business trip into the neon lights and debauchery anytime we want.”
“Mm,” Chen Jian smiled.
As Shan Yu spoke, his breath brushed past Chen Jian’s ear, carrying a secretive tenderness that made Chen Jian close his eyes in comfort.
“You sing,” Shan Yu said.
“I just took a quick look, I basically don’t know how to sing any of these,” Chen Jian said. “I’ll just listen to them.”
“Did you really have absolutely zero entertainment in the past?” Shan Yu asked.
“This kind of entertainment…” Chen Jian thought for a moment. “Basically none, yeah. Never really thought about it either.”
“Then did you have any other kinds of entertainment?” Shan Yu asked again.
Chen Jian looked at him, remaining silent for a good while before asking softly, “Why are you asking so weirdly?”
“You…” Shan Yu met his gaze for a few seconds and laughed. “I always thought you were pretty proper.”
“Hey,” Chen Jian lowered his voice, “how am I not proper? You’re the one who asked it, asking so weirdly.”
“You were the one who said ‘this kind of entertainment.’ So shouldn’t I ask what ‘other kinds of entertainment’ you had?” Shan Yu countered.
Chen Jian paused for a moment, then tilted his head back against the sofa and burst out laughing. “Fuck.”
“Who’s the improper one now, Store Manager,” Shan Yu asked.
“I play video games sometimes,” Chen Jian said with a smile.
“I play too,” Shan Yu said.
After Sun Nana finished her English song, it was Hu Pan’s turn, and the genre shifted entirely. Hu Pan sang Phoenix Legend.
“Close your eyes and just queue them in order. There isn’t a single one I don’t know,” Hu Pan declared, gripping the microphone with her afro bouncing, tapping her foot hard against the floor to the beat of the music.
Hu Pan’s singing voice was similar to her speaking voice: quite bright and very straightforward.
She didn’t sing out of tune.
After she finished, it was Sanbing’s turn. Sanbing started roaring out a Cantonese song. Chen Erhu and his crew absolutely loved singing Cantonese songs. Although their pronunciation was incredibly unorthodox, they were basically in tune.
Chen Jian suddenly realized that there actually weren’t that many tone-deaf people. He couldn’t help but ask Shan Yu, “What you said in your Moments, about eight different ways to sing one song…”
Shan Yu started laughing.
“Was it that everyone was singing out of tune, or did Brother Lang single-handedly cover all the off-key versions?” Chen Jian asked.
“There were quite a few tone-deaf ones,” Shan Yu said with a smile. “Some of them usually aren’t, but the moment Yue Lang opened his mouth, they’d get dragged off-key right along with him. His leadership skills have always been very strong.”
Spirits in the private room were extremely high. Song after song, everyone firmly stuck to their own genres, absolutely refusing to be derailed by anyone else.
Sun Nana was the English music library; Hu Pan hosted a Phoenix Legend exclusive concert; the Pigpen Gang remained dedicated to watered-down Cantonese pop. Halfway through, Sanbing even miraculously queued up a segment of Cantonese opera. However, because his rendition was far too bizarre, Sun Nana cut it off out of respect for preserving traditional culture.
Chen Jian listened with great enjoyment. Aside from a few classmates’ birthdays back in his school days, this was the most fun gathering he had attended in years.
When he stepped out of the private room to use the restroom, he felt like he was floating.
His ears were ringing slightly, making the sounds around him a bit muffled.
There was a restroom inside the private room, but Sun Nana had declared it strictly for the girls. The guys all had to use the restroom down the hall.
Chen Jian checked the signs and walked toward the end of the hallway.
There were private rooms on both sides. He couldn’t see clearly through the small windows, but he could faintly hear various songs playing. Walking all the way down, he surprisingly concluded that their room actually had the highest singing level.
As he neared the end of the hallway, Chen Jian heard footsteps behind him.
He didn’t turn around, figuring it was either a server or a guest from another room.
But then, a short whistle sounded from behind.
Chen Jian spun around.
Sure enough, Shan Yu was following right behind him.
“What are you doing?” Chen Jian glanced back toward their private room. Shan Yu had just used the restroom five minutes ago, and now he was following him out. It was hard not to think in an improper direction.
“Getting some fresh air.” Shan Yu’s lips curled up. As he walked past Chen Jian, he gently bumped his shoulder against his, then pushed open the door to the adjacent emergency stairwell and stepped inside.
When Chen Jian came out of the restroom, the hallway was completely empty. He hesitated, then walked over, pushed open the fire door, and peeked inside.
It was a stairwell landing. The light on this floor seemed to be broken; only the light from the floor above was on.
“Shan Yu?” he tried calling out softly.
No one answered.
It was impossible for Shan Yu to have returned to the private room. Even if he really was just “getting fresh air,” he wouldn’t be done in this short amount of time.
Chen Jian stepped inside, considering whether to check the floor above or below.
The moment the fire door clicked shut behind him, he heard breathing right behind him, incredibly close.
In a split second, his brain processed that it was definitely that crazy bastard Shan Yu.
But out of a conditioned reflex from being startled, his body lunged forward a step anyway.
Then he stopped abruptly. Shan Yu hugged him from behind, halting his forward momentum, and kissed the side of his neck.
The unique scent belonging entirely to Shan Yu enveloped him.
Chen Jian’s breathing paused for two seconds.
Carrying a lingering warmth, Shan Yu’s hand slipped under his clothes, first gripping his waist, then sliding upward to his chest.
Snapping back to his senses, Chen Jian grabbed Shan Yu’s hand, whipped around violently, and slammed his entire body into Shan Yu.
Shan Yu was knocked back against the wall behind him, letting out a low chuckle and a soft, “Fuck.”
Chen Jian pressed in close, threw his arms around Shan Yu, and kissed him hard on the lips.
It was quite cold in the stairwell. The window was cracked open, and freezing wind blew in continuously. Neither of them was wearing a coat, and by the time the kiss ended, the chill had practically seeped into their bones.
They had to press tightly against each other just to stay warm.
With his hands under Shan Yu’s clothes, Chen Jian held him tightly around the waist, refusing to let go, burying his face in his shoulder and rubbing against him hard.
“Someone’s going to come by soon,” Shan Yu said.
“Oh, now you realize that?” Chen Jian said.
Shan Yu smiled without saying anything.
Chen Jian pressed his nose against Shan Yu’s neck again, took two deep breaths, and then slowly let go.
A gust of wind blew in through the window crack, making him shiver and bounce on his feet.
“Hurry up and go back inside,” Shan Yu pinched his chin and lightly patted his cheek.
“Mm,” Chen Jian acknowledged.
The private room was still blaring with loud singing. As Chen Jian and Shan Yu returned to the room one after the other, they received absolutely no attention. Chen Jian felt like no one had even noticed they left—just like how he hadn’t noticed Sanbing going to the restroom twice earlier.
He instantly felt a surge of satisfaction, like a thief who had successfully pulled off a heist.
After finishing a song, Hu Pan finally held the microphone and asked, “Is it about time?”
Chen Jian pulled out his phone and checked the time. “It’s almost midnight.”
“That felt so good,” Hu Pan raised the microphone and yelled, collapsing back onto the sofa.
“Let’s head back,” Sun Nana said. “We don’t have tomorrow off, still got to work.”
“The store manager doesn’t have tomorrow off. But if you guys can’t get up, you can start work an hour later,” Shan Yu said.
The group erupted into cheers.
Chen Jian turned to look at him.
Resting his chin in his hand, Shan Yu lightly lifted the fingertips touching his lips and blew a very covert kiss right at him.
Chen Jian sighed and didn’t say a word.
After the Dayin concert concluded, the group walked toward the parking lot, still chatting and singing, their enthusiasm unspent.
Passing by a barbecue stall on the way, Shan Yu went in and bought some takeout.
“You guys will probably chat for a while after we get back,” he handed the bags of barbecue to Sanbing. “Can’t chat with empty mouths.”
“Boss Shan,” Sanbing was overjoyed, “you’re my blood brother.”
“You traitor,” Lao Wu said.
“Boss Shan is my oldest brother,” Sanbing said, “and Brother Erhu is my second brother.”
“You fence-sitter,” Lao Wu said.
“Whatever,” Chen Erhu waved his hand magnanimously. “Sons grow up…”
“And forget their mothers,” Lao Si said.
“Did you sing the oxygen out of your brain!” Chen Erhu snapped.
Although the entire Dayin staff had been missing for an afternoon and an evening, everything at the inn was basically operating normally. Some guests had taken instant noodles and drinks from the restaurant, all paying by scanning the QR code.
However, when Hu Pan did inventory, she found that someone had indeed taken things without paying.
“Missing two bottles of iced black tea,” she whispered.
“It’s fine,” Chen Jian said. “When we decided to make it self-serve, we already factored this kind of loss in.”
“I can pretty much guess who it was,” Hu Pan curled her lip.
“Don’t go making wild guesses without proof,” Chen Jian smiled.
“I’m just guessing in my heart,” Hu Pan patted her chest.
Although it was already the middle of the night by the time they returned, just as Shan Yu had predicted, the group had no intention of going straight to sleep after cleaning up.
They laid out the midnight snacks on the table in the dorm and continued chatting.
Chen Jian went to the office. He hadn’t even exchanged two sentences with Shan Yu before Chen Erhu’s voice chased him over the walkie-talkie: “Chen Jian, where are you? We’re waiting for you.”
“Go on,” Shan Yu yawned. “I should be able to fall asleep today, I’m exhausted.”
“Text me if you can’t sleep,” Chen Jian said.
“Mm,” Shan Yu smiled.
Chen Jian kissed him on the corner of his mouth. “Good night.”
“Good night,” Shan Yu said.
Perhaps he really could only fall asleep when he was completely exhausted. Chen Jian placed his phone right next to his pillow, but Shan Yu never sent a message.
He woke up on time in the morning. The entire dorm was still fast asleep. He went to the office to check first; Shan Yu was sleeping in the bedroom, still not awake.
Chen Jian tiptoed out and went downstairs.
Zhao Fangfang and Sister Huang had already arrived and were cleaning up the kitchen, preparing today’s breakfast.
Chen Jian grabbed a quick bite. Seeing guests coming to check out, he went to the front desk.
“Are you guys going to host that bonfire festival again in the future?” Checking out were two girls, chatting with him while playing on their phones.
“Probably,” Chen Jian said.
“We arrived too late and missed it,” one girl said with a bit of regret, looking at her phone. “It looked really fun.”
“Is that so?” Chen Jian smiled, assuming she had seen photos posted by other tourists.
“This set of photos from City News has such a great vibe,” the other girl said.
“What?” Chen Jian was taken aback.
“This set,” the girl held her phone out to him. “It looks like a movie. Did you guys hire a professional photographer?”
Chen Jian leaned in for a look. He didn’t look closely at the pictures; a single glance at the heading confirmed it really was a report published by the local City News.
New Force in Winter Tourism: Exploring a Hidden Gem Town.
Hongye Town Kicks Off This Winter with a ‘Fire’.
…
“This is written so well!” Hu Pan held her phone. “I usually just glance at this kind of news and never actually read it… but reading through this, it’s actually really interesting.”
“That’s because it’s written about us,” Chen Jian smiled.
“Guess so,” Hu Pan thought about it.
“I’ve scrolled past it several times these past few days,” Sanbing said. “There are also travel guides and stuff for coming here.”
“Are we mentioned in the guides?” Hu Pan asked immediately.
“Yeah, people mentioned all the local guesthouses,” Sanbing said. “But when they mentioned Dayin, I saw someone say we had a very unique personality. What kind of personality does a guesthouse have?”
The personality of an ex-con’s black market inn.
“When you have time today, put all the photos we printed earlier up on the wall,” Chen Jian said. “Make a photo wall or something, organize them by theme. The bonfire festival, the barbecue party our inn had with the tourists. Have Shan Yu write a few headings, and put up whatever we can from the fire safety training too.”
“I’ll go do it,” Chen Erhu said.
“Let Panpan and Nana design the layout first,” Chen Jian added quickly, truly having zero faith in the Pigpen Gang’s aesthetic sense.
As it turned out, rushing to finish the photo wall was the right call. Not only was it ready for the tourists to see, but barely two days later, Chen Jian received a call from the town management office saying some leaders were coming to inspect the area.
“Holy shit,” Sanbing froze. “Inspect what? When are they coming?”
“I don’t know, it’s not confirmed,” Chen Jian instructed Hu Pan as he hurried upstairs. “Panpan, double-check all our business licenses and the employees’ health certificates. If they want to see these things, we need to be able to produce them immediately.”
“Got it,” Hu Pan responded.
“What about me?” Sanbing yelled.
“Clean!” Chen Jian yelled back.
Reaching the fourth floor, he knocked on the office door a few times.
“Come in,” Shan Yu said.
He pushed the door open and walked in.
“In such a rush,” Shan Yu, sitting on the sofa, put down the phone he was looking at. “What’s wrong?”
Chen Jian subconsciously glanced at the screen and saw a row of schedules.
“Are you…” he paused. “Booking a ticket?”
“Not yet,” Shan Yu looked at the screen. “Still looking at the times.”
Chen Jian walked over and sat next to him. “What day do you want to go back?”
“Whichever day has business class seats,” Shan Yu smiled, picking up his phone and tapping a few more times.
“Have you told your family?” Chen Jian asked.
“Not yet,” Shan Yu said.
“You could actually… let them know first,” Chen Jian said.
“If I tell them, there’s no going back,” Shan Yu clicked his tongue.
Chen Jian looked at him and didn’t say anything.
“Don’t worry, I’ll go back,” Shan Yu added.
“That’s not what I meant. What I wanted to say was,” Chen Jian hesitated, leaning closer to him. “If you… don’t go back just because I wanted to persuade you. If you haven’t made up your mind yet… you don’t have to force yourself to go back. I just…”
“I know,” Shan Yu smiled and touched his face. “I know.”
“Mm,” Chen Jian responded.
“What did you run up here for?” Shan Yu asked.
“Oh,” Chen Jian remembered the actual issue. “Just got a call from the management office saying some leaders are coming to inspect the area in the next few days.”
“What leaders, what time?” Shan Yu asked, simultaneously tapping on his phone.
“Don’t know, not confirmed,” Chen Jian said.
“It’s fine,” Shan Yu continued scrolling through booking info. “You just handle the reception.”
“I handle the reception?!” Chen Jian was shocked. “It’s one thing for you to be a hands-off boss normally, but leaders inspecting? Leaders! Are you washing your hands of this too?”
“My store manager knows the inn’s situation better than I do,” Shan Yu said. “You’ll run into this kind of thing plenty of times in the future. Better start somewhere.”
Chen Jian stared at Shan Yu’s phone screen, remaining silent for a very long time before suddenly asking, “Are you coming back after you go home?”
“Hm?” Shan Yu stopped and turned to look at him. “Why would the Store Manager say that?”
Chen Jian didn’t speak.
“Do you think I could bear not to come back?” Shan Yu asked.
“I just felt like you probably…” Chen Jian looked at him, “couldn’t bear it?”
“Why the hesitation,” Shan Yu tossed his phone aside. “I’m not going back.”
