Xiangjiang Entertainment TV’s Nine Provinces Star Chart was a fairly popular interview program that specialized in tracking hot entertainment-industry topics and inviting whichever celebrities currently had the most traffic.
With Zhuang Xiao and Pei Yan about to join a production, there was no time for them to travel elsewhere to record. Yu Feng, the star host of Nine Provinces Star Chart, personally came to Beijing and booked the interview for the very day Zhuang Xiao returned home, squeezing it into the only available crack in the schedule.
Pei Yan arrived first, walked into the TV building as though he owned the place, greeted familiar people, and turned smoothly into the break room and makeup room.
It was always the same routine. Hair, makeup, clothes, people sitting around talking nonsense… Young Master Pei had no hair to style, so that entire step was saved every time. His makeup routine was simple too because he refused eyeliner, eye shadow, and lipstick. Compared with other pretty young stars, he was much easier.
There were people who took three hours in the makeup room, acted like huge stars, refused to come out, then got mocked by the production team. Producers liked Pei Yan’s impatient, straightforward personality. He was even more eager than the director and host. A little brow powder, a layer of setting powder, and he counted himself "done." He stuck his head out. "Where is everybody? Are we starting or not? Who the hell are we waiting for?!"
Of course, the prerequisite was being able to invite him. Pei Yan rarely appeared on interviews or variety shows.
Yu Feng came in to greet him and shake hands. "Xiao-ge doesn’t seem to be here yet. I’ll go take another look. Old Pei, sit, sit. Hungry? We’ve got Mid-Autumn mooncakes and snacks. Pick whatever you like!"
"Still not here… so slow… We have to wait for him?" Pei Yan said.
Yu Feng hurriedly explained with a smile, "Mr. Zhuang probably just got off the plane today. Airport traffic may be holding him up. That expressway jams all the time."
"Oh… just got off the plane… understandable." Pei Yan gave a crooked smile.
Not long afterward, Zhuang Xiao arrived too.
Fatty Bao’s car deliberately circled nearby for a while and reached the TV building several minutes late.
Zhuang Xiao sat before the big makeup mirror while the stylist started on his hair. Pei Yan wandered around not far away with nothing to do. "Aiyo, that hair is way too long. Going to take forever to fix this time."
Zhuang Xiao never lifted his eyelids or turned his head, only glanced at somebody’s reflection in the mirror. "Sorry. Kept you waiting. Airport traffic."
The idle man stared at the face in the mirror without blinking. Pei Yan held a plate of flaky fresh-meat mini mooncakes and never stopped chewing, crumbs falling around his mouth. "No problem. Take your time doing your hair. I’ll eat first. I’m hungry."
Zhuang Xiao: "Your makeup’s smudged."
"No makeup." Pei Yan said, "Natural beauty. I don’t need fixing up."
The two sounded neither warm nor cold, neither close nor distant. Their faces were expressionless, eyes only slanting toward each other through the mirror.
"Oh…" Yu Feng watched from the side. "Xiao-ge doesn’t come home often, so I rarely get to see you. I’m especially excited today! Old Pei counts as an old guest of ours, came once before and really gave our show face. It’s such an honor to get both of you gentlemen on the same stage today… Xiao-ge, long trip, huh? Overnight flight, probably didn’t sleep much?"
"Not bad." Zhuang Xiao sat motionless in the makeup chair while the stylist braided his hair, shaped the temples, and sprayed enough hairspray to fight a hurricane.
"You two were on the same set a while ago. Must’ve beaten each other until you got familiar, right?" Yu Feng was scraping for conversation.
Both men kept silent in perfect agreement. Familiar? Hm.
Oh, outwardly harmonious but inwardly hostile? Maybe not even outwardly harmonious… Yu Feng thought. Rivalry between people in the same trade was normal. Not long ago they had been competing for roles on the same production.
"Sort of," Pei Yan said blandly, rolling his eyes. "We’re only moderately familiar."
I’m way more familiar with Zhuang Xiao than I am with you, Pei Yan thought, then felt smug for no reason.
Their eyes finally met in the mirror with perfect understanding. Whatever friendship existed between them did not need explaining to outsiders.
The interview itself was the usual material, nothing new. Topics had been cleared with both teams beforehand and would not go too far. Mostly they were taking advantage of the moment to keep selling the screen CP audiences wanted to see.
The combined combat-skill level on stage today was unprecedentedly high. So came a barrage of rapid-fire questions, clanging like open blades.
Yu Feng asked, "A-Xiao, evaluate Old Pei’s hairstyle."
"Extremely bright," Zhuang Xiao said. "When we shot night scenes and the lighting crew rested outside the set, no matter whose scene it was, Old Pei could sit nearby and become an LED floodlight."
Pei Yan jumped in himself. "Then post-production removes me from frame, but my radiance remains in the image."
Yu Feng asked, "Old Pei, what do you think of Zhuang Xiao’s hairstyle? Would you consider growing yours like this someday?"
As he spoke, Yu Feng produced a "Zhuang Xiao-style" wig with a braid from behind him. Pei Yan snatched it and slapped it onto his own head…
*
Yu Feng asked, "A-Xiao, evaluate the fairly universal public opinion that Mr. Pei has a ‘wickedly seductive and wildly arrogant’ aura. While you were filming, did you personally feel that wave of wickedness hit you head-on?"
Zhuang Xiao said calmly, "Not while filming. After filming, when he fought people for boxed lunches on set, when the crew went to bars, when we drank competitively, you could really feel the wickedness of his appetite, food intake, and alcohol tolerance."
Yu Feng asked, "Old Pei, in your eyes, is Zhuang Xiao the most masculine, flavorful partner you’ve ever worked with?"
Pei Yan shrugged. "What flavor? Cigarettes? Hahaha, he really does smoke a lot!"
Yu Feng asked, "A-Xiao, I heard you injured your hand while filming recently. Where?"
Zhuang Xiao opened his right palm toward the camera, silently showing the pale scorpion-tail scars crossing it.
Yu Feng exclaimed, "Those wounds look deep!"
Zhuang Xiao smiled. "Now I’ve got a broken-palm line. Pretty good. They say people with one are formidable."
Elio’s Notes: In Chinese palmistry, 断掌 can refer to a single transverse crease running across the palm, traditionally associated with a forceful or strong-willed personality. Zhuang Xiao is joking that his scars have effectively erased and merged his old palm lines.
"The original lines are gone under the scars," Pei Yan cut in. "So the so-called love line and career line are one now, right…"
Pei Yan rubbed his nose.
Zhuang Xiao sat straight and did not look at him.
*
Yu Feng suddenly threw out a sharp question. "You two filmed together. Which of you actually has the higher combat power?"
Zhuang Xiao said, "You follow the action director’s choreography. Hit where you’re told. You don’t fight wild on your own."
Yu Feng refused to let go. "Then what if the two of you use everything you’ve got and fight wild? Who wins?!"
Pei Yan asked the host in return, "Who do you think?"
Zhuang Xiao answered honestly, "Depends what kind of fighting. We didn’t train in the same school."
Pei Yan showed no humility. "On the ground, I think I can do it, because he might be too lazy to get down there."
"Then today, gentlemen, right here on this sofa in our studio!" Yu Feng had been waiting forever and finally found the trap he wanted. "You two trade a few moves, stop at contact, and let everybody see!
"Treat this sofa as the floor. Let’s see which of you can get the other one off it, throw him down, whatever. How about it?"
Yu Feng added the line with malicious delight.
I just said I’m good at ground fighting and now you want us to demonstrate? Pei Yan thought. You want the two of us stacked on top of each other wrestling on a sofa?
The studio audience was already clapping and making noise. They had to see it.
That was the variety-show routine and exactly why Pei Yan usually refused to come. Hosts dug holes for you. Once you agreed to appear, you could not sit there in front of the audience acting aloof and saying you would not cooperate with the entertainment. Yet people who practiced martial arts did not casually fight others to "decide who’s better." It looked poorly raised.
Just demonstrate.
Stop at contact.
The corner of Zhuang Xiao’s mouth shifted slightly, tossing out a tiny expression, half a dimple appearing.
For Zhuang Xiao, that sly little look meant he was in an excellent mood. He was not angry or uncomfortable. Pei Yan understood instantly.
Zhuang Xiao suddenly moved.
Pei Yan moved with him. Fine, answer one move with the next.
Zhuang Xiao did not attack him directly. Instead, he instantly flung something at him, the microphone he had been holding.
They sat at opposite ends of the same long sofa. No sofa was ten meters long. At that distance, an ordinary person had almost no chance of blocking something thrown at him.
Pa! In a flash, Pei Yan’s hand snapped up and caught the microphone when it was almost beside his ear.
Yu Feng’s mouth fell open. Before either he or the audience could even shout, Pei Yan used his wrist. His hand barely appeared to move, yet the microphone was already flying away from his ear, spinning sideways toward Zhuang Xiao.
The move was extremely difficult.
Zhuang Xiao did not look at him. He caught it on sound alone, incredibly fast.
Even the cameras failed to capture exactly how they had thrown and caught it. They would need slow motion to show what happened… Clean, perfect actions. Neither man’s ass left the sofa.
Yu Feng opened his mouth in an exaggerated WOW at the audience.
The next second, Zhuang Xiao lifted his eyelids and sent the microphone straight toward the host opposite them.
The mic spun at high speed toward the gold-medal host’s face. Yu Feng instinctively jerked his head aside with an "ah," rolling sideways off the sofa arm and covering his head…
The microphone was nowhere near hitting him. Pei Yan moved at the same time, faster than the object itself. He neatly snatched the mic out of the air and, half a second later, was seated on the sofa again with one leg crossed.
Zhuang Xiao never moved. He smiled at the host. "You left the sofa. You lose."
Yu Feng stood with hands on hips, glaring at both of them.
The audience burst into laughter, then understood what they had just seen and began screaming wildly, whistling suggestively at Mr. Zhuang…
Each gentleman guarded one end of the sofa, sitting unmoved. Today, by coincidence, they had again chosen the Black Wind Twin Fiends look. Zhuang Xiao wore a pure black high-collared shirt, while Pei Yan had a close-fitting black dress shirt. Simple, sharp, masculine lines showed through the stretched shape of their chests. Ridiculously cool…
The famous Host Yu had never managed to dig a pit and bury himself in it before. Onstage, he wiped sweat and hair product from his forehead, laughed awkwardly, then gave the two men a clasped-fist salute. It was all entertainment in the end.
They talked through several more topics about the new film Dragon Battles Heaven’s Pass. Then the second trap arrived without warning.
"Gentlemen, I heard this little piece of gossip," Yu Feng said. "Apparently when you two first met, you had a meal together. By coincidence, it was Hunan food. Do you remember?"
Zhuang Xiao: "Mm."
Pei Yan: "Yeah."
They even know that? Did Fatty Bao leak the story from that dinner?
"You both love spicy food, right?! You both love the fresh, fragrant red heat of our Hunan hometown cuisine, right?!" Yu Feng was way too excited, wearing the malicious smile of a man clearly hiding a trick. "Then how could we not serve a table of authentic western-Hunan dishes right here in the studio today!"
Pei Yan shot Zhuang Xiao a quick glance. Zhuang Xiao calmly watched the host.
Yu Feng signaled backstage, and they literally wheeled out a small round table and two chairs, then started serving.
The final stage of a variety show was always tormenting the guests. Whatever you least wanted, that was what they gave you. Of course it would not go too far. Nobody was sticking needles into effigies or forcing you to eat live insects. It was only spicy food.
"What are we eating?" Pei Yan craned his neck.
"Why no Mao-style red-braised pork? Why no steamed preserved meats? A bowl of blood duck would work too," Pei Yan said with his head tilted.
"You know the cuisine pretty well. Those dishes all have too much meat and are hard to divide between two people," Yu Feng laughed.
"What do you mean?" Pei Yan asked.
"Means we see how the two of us fight for the meat," Zhuang Xiao snorted.
The production was vicious. Right there on the studio stage they were reenacting the Hunan stir-fried-pork battle. No, this wasn’t stir-fried pork. It was an enormous bowl of Hunan chili chicken. At one glance, the whole thing was bright red and green, fucking full of every strange variety of chili pepper.
Yu Feng stretched his legs and sat in the middle. "For this meal, I’m the referee and supervisor. The two of you only get one pair of chopsticks each. Absolutely no grabbing with your hands and no picking up the dish or flipping the table. Let’s see who gets the meat and who gets left with the chilies."
Pei Yan and Zhuang Xiao sat across from each other. Pei Yan looked up at the other man first and thought, What, all the chilies are fucking mine again today?
Pei Yan said, "Host, do we really have to eat chili chicken? Dig for chicken inside a bowl of chilies?"
Yu Feng: "That’s right."
Pei Yan: "Does your show even have any ‘cock’ in this? Look for yourself. I can’t find your Xiangjiang TV’s chicken anywhere."
Elio’s Notes: Pei Yan is exploiting the slang double meaning of 鸡儿 here: literally he is complaining about the tiny amount of chicken, but the wording can also mean "dick," which is why the audience immediately loses it.
The audience exploded in laughter.
Yu Feng: "There isn’t much chicken, true, and the pieces are very small."
Pei Yan: "Nothing else on the menu?"
Yu Feng: "Want to switch to chopped-chili fish?"
Zhuang Xiao spoke. "Don’t. Looking for meat crumbs in a wok of hot oil is worse. Keep the chili chicken."
It was already afternoon. Their schedules were tight and neither had eaten lunch. Recording the show had eaten several hours in front of and behind the cameras. They might as well eat dinner directly.
Pei Yan picked up his chopsticks. "Perfect. I’ll eat. I’m starving."
The spectators, Yu Feng, even the control room and staff all wore expressions of people waiting for a show. Everyone knew Pei Yan was going to lose and would never beat Zhuang Xiao to the meat.
Hungry? You’ll still get no meat. That was exactly how the prank was designed, to tease Yanyan, the entertainment industry’s famous little firecracker. If he got no meat today, would he explode?
Before either moved his chopsticks, Zhuang Xiao suddenly said, "Old Pei didn’t eat lunch. Nothing in his stomach. Too much chili on an empty stomach can hurt him."
Yu Feng: "Oh?"
Pei Yan generously said, "I’m fine. I ate the mooncakes the show gave me. Something heavy-flavored is perfect."
He was generous because this was a studio and a program. He certainly would not fight the person he liked. He was perfectly willing to eat the whole bowl of chilies himself.
Zhuang Xiao did not raise his eyes. "Bad for the stomach."
Pei Yan said, "I ate snacks. You haven’t eaten anything."
Zhuang Xiao finally looked up. "Feng-ge, you’re sitting at the table too. You’re not eating?"
Yu Feng hurriedly said, "No, no. I had a full lunch!"
Zhuang Xiao said, "Have a little more."
Yu Feng: "No need, no need. You two enjoy!"
"Then let’s do this." Zhuang Xiao used a tone that allowed no argument. "I fight for the food, and whatever I get, Old Pei eats. If you can beat me to anything, you eat it. Whatever is left in this dish at the end, you finish it all. How about that?"
Yu Feng: "…"
Wait.
When exactly did the rules change? Now that was a real trap. Yu Feng wanted no part of it. The audience erupted in laughter and cheers, while Zhuang Xiao’s chopsticks were already moving at high speed, plucking tiny grains of chicken from the sea of chilies and dropping them into the little dish in front of Pei Yan.
Pei Yan reacted fast too. Eat. He was starving. Who cared who was watching.
The two worked like a relay team, one picking food over, the other putting it into his mouth. Pei Yan demolished every scrap Zhuang Xiao found for him at lightning speed. Delicious. His mouth and nose filled with fragrance. The production kitchen really was good. Yu Feng could only laugh helplessly and hurried to join the meat battle with his own chopsticks. Only an idiot would not fight for it, with more and more chilies being left behind!
How could he possibly beat Zhuang Xiao?
Zhuang Xiao’s chopsticks bumped his and Host Yu’s chopsticks flew toward the ceiling. The whole studio roared. Even the control room filled with laughter.
Committed to the entertainment value, the host worked hard to clown around. He stretched his chopsticks across Pei Yan’s little dish and dramatically pulled the dish into his own arms. "Come on, relay it now, Hero Zhuang! I’m waiting right here!"
Things happened too fast for anyone to react. The tiny piece of chicken Zhuang Xiao held did not go into the dish. His hand simply continued across the table and delivered it straight into Mr. Pei’s mouth.
One chopstickful was not enough. There was more. Zhuang Xiao accurately plucked the final grain of chicken from the bowl and once again quickly fed it into Pei Yan’s mouth, pushing it straight in…
Even Pei Yan was caught completely off guard. All he did was keep opening his mouth, eating one bite after another of everything Zhuang Xiao fed him…
That was the shot that later got clipped into every sort of still, GIF, and video snippet and exploded across the internet…
Yu Feng laughed helplessly and pointed his chopsticks at both men. "Xiao-ge, you’re ruthless. You left me an entire bowl of red chilies!"
"Whatever’s left, you eat."
Zhuang Xiao wore that bland expression, still saying the same infuriating line.
Only this time, the person being squeezed was different.
Pei Yan had not fully savored the taste and stared at Zhuang Xiao. "I eat scallions, ginger, garlic, and chilies too. I want everything."
The rest could not be said out loud here. I’ve eaten the meat. I want the man too. I’ve dreamed of eating the meat on your body.
*
Inside the control room, the director threw down his script and yelled excitedly. Better than the planned "fight over meat" bit. These fuckers are "feeding each other meat"! This episode was absolutely going to sell. Get the promo copy written now.
After the recording, the production treated them to dinner as usual, booking a high-end restaurant nearby for both gentlemen. The details of the banquet were not worth repeating.
Pei Yan kept his head down, ate, drank a little, and listened to Yu Feng and the staff chatter around him. He barely dared raise his eyes during the meal, because every time he did he could not stop himself from looking at Zhuang Xiao, capturing every movement and glance.
When their gazes failed to meet, he felt disappointed. When they did, his heart jumped. That was what it meant to fall for someone…
That night, each man’s nanny van traveled separately beneath the capital’s darkness, passing long streets where the lights flowed like a hazy dream.
Fatty Bao drove Zhuang Xiao into the gates of a residential complex first, then down into the underground garage.
About five minutes later, the Mercedes driven by Pei Yan’s assistant entered the same garage from another direction.
They checked front, back, left, and right. Probably nobody was tailing them. Zhuang Xiao had only just returned and the outside world did not yet know where he was staying.