Pei Yan stood in front of his parents for a while, gradually adjusting to this other world. With one step, he had returned to the place where he belonged, a place full of warmth.
His mood quieted almost immediately. What had he done just now? He had smashed somebody’s car. He should not have done that.
A new ashtray sat on the coffee table. Pei Yan picked it up and turned it over and over in his hands. It was still as new as the day he bought it, because it had been bought for Zhuang Xiao, and Zhuang Xiao had never used it.
Zhuang Xiao tried not to smoke at Pei Yan’s place. He had left without even a trace of his scent behind, such a clean departure.
Pei Yan put the ashtray into a drawer, then gathered up the framed photograph of the two of them on the television cabinet, the Imperial Palace imperial-guard doll Zhuang Xiao had given him, and all sorts of little ornaments and toys. One after another, he put them in the drawer. He would not throw them away, but seeing them around the room hurt too much. He had to hide them.
Xu Qishang signaled to her husband with her eyes: Maybe we should go?
Pei Zhixun replied with a look: Aren’t you going to ask what happened?
Xu Qishang signaled: You ask him, then.
Pei Zhixun shook his head: I’m not asking.
Xu Qishang gave him another look: Then why are we two old people still hanging around, getting in his way?
Pei Zhixun took off his glasses and wiped them, though who knew where all that mist had come from. When he put them back on, his expression was difficult to describe. He said quietly, “He seemed so serious this time. I thought it was good, that it looked promising, reliable, like they really had a future…”
“I thought he was serious too,” Xu Qishang said softly. “That just makes it hurt more, doesn’t it? It must hurt so much…”
She stepped forward. “Why don’t we go out for a meal? Baby, what would you like to eat?”
“I’m not hungry,” Pei Yan said.
“Baby, you still need to eat. How about I cook for you? Though you’d like my cooking even less.”
Pei Yan did not want to talk. He turned and went into his bedroom.
Only when he entered did he see what stood beside his big bed: a brand-new double mattress, occupying almost his entire field of vision. His head seemed to explode with a boom…
It was the model he had custom ordered a few days earlier. It had just been delivered while he was away. Pei Yan stared at it, unable to imagine what expression he was wearing. His chest trembled. He felt as though he could not bear another moment.
“Someone signed for it?” he asked softly. “…Can it be returned?”
“Can you ask the delivery people to come back and take it away? I don’t want a refund. They can keep it. I’ll give it to them.”
A mattress. Only two weeks between placing the order and receiving it. In that tiny span of time, he had fallen from the sky to the ground. No, into a bottomless pit.
He could fool around and act unserious in front of outsiders, but he had always believed he was serious and devoted when it came to love. He wanted two people to stay together, to be companions. Had he been too flippant in the past? Was that why people always thought he was a joker? Did they imagine he changed partners and mattresses every two or three months?
Seeing his face, Xu Qishang hastily said, “Oh dear, I’m sorry! I signed for it. I even opened the wrapping, couldn’t keep my hands to myself… Well, we can move it out again. We don’t want it.”
Pei Zhixun looked at his wife. Move it out again?
Xu Qishang issued an order with her eyes. Can’t you understand? Stop talking and help move it!
The elderly couple rolled up their sleeves and began carrying the mattress out.
“Yanyan, it’s all right! Don’t you worry. Sit down and rest. We’ll carry it ourselves!” Xu Qishang said.
“What’s the big deal? …It’s nothing worth worrying about,” Pei Zhixun said.
One old parent stood inside the room and the other outside as they started maneuvering the mattress toward the door. It was as tall as the doorway, with its upper edge catching on the frame. They could not get it through. They had to turn it sideways, angle it, and inch it out bit by bit…
Xu Qishang dropped into an elegant half squat and lifted the lower edge of the mattress.
Pei Zhixun pulled from outside. It was heavy and difficult to move. He pressed half his face against the edge until his glasses slid from his eyes onto his forehead. Squinting and sweating, he looked utterly ridiculous. Outside the house, he was a distinguished playwright whose work made other people laugh. At home, he could turn himself into a comedy sketch without anyone’s help…
After sitting quietly for a while, Pei Yan rose without a word and went to help push.
“We don’t need you!” Xu Qishang waved him away. “You think your mother’s basic training isn’t as good as yours? Think I can’t squat anymore?”
“Of course not. You’re the best. In our whole family, you’re the strongest martial artist…” Pei Yan came up behind his beloved mother, wrapped his arms around her, and rested his chin on her shoulder.
Right now he just wanted to hold someone, to find a pair of arms that would welcome him.
“Of course I am! I can still bend backward perfectly well. My students say I’ve kept myself in excellent shape. The Drunken Concubine, Mu Guiying Takes Command: I can still do the full singing, reciting, acting, and combat work onstage. I’m no worse than you,” Xu Qishang said.
Johnny Wu tried to help drag the mattress from outside the door, but it did not move an inch in his hands. Pei Zhixun gave a disdainful snort. “With arms and legs like yours, forget it. You can tell you never did a day of labor when you were young. We old folks knew hardship. We carried bricks when we were children!”
At last they dragged the enormous mattress to the entrance.
Xu Qishang inspected it more closely. Oh, it was so sophisticated, so luxurious! Excellent quality. Little Monkey had good taste when he bought things. The person he chose had been unreliable, but the mattress was reliable. Why return it? No, the two old folks would take it home and sleep on it. Her back hurt, so she could sleep on the firm side. Her husband’s back did not hurt, so he could sleep on the softer side. Wonderful. Excellent!
The couple stood in the entryway, breathing hard and wiping sweat away with handkerchiefs.
Neither felt good about it, but they dared not complain about the delivery service, the mattress, or even Mr. Zhuang, afraid of upsetting their son.
Wang Yuanling called. Johnny Wu lowered his voice. “Yes, yes… the damage really is quite severe… Baby’s in a bad mood, and those people were following much too closely. That wasn’t right of them… So pay a little compensation… Hey, you’re blaming me for not stopping him? You should be glad he didn’t smash me!”
Xu Qishang heard him. Her loving mother’s expression changed in an instant, and she snorted. “Pay them. Don’t take the money from the company. Make his father pay. What the hell? If I were there, I’d have smashed it too…
“You there! Go back downstairs and smash it again for me. I’ll pay for the glass and the tires, and his father can reimburse me.”
Xu Qishang waved an order at Johnny Wu. Go on, smash it. The rear tire was still intact, wasn’t it? Put a hole in it. My back hurts from carrying that mattress. Let me catch my breath first.
She sat on the sofa, smoothed the wrinkles and dust from her long skirt, and stared into space. She was deeply disappointed. Once again there was no one at Yanyan’s side to take care of him, nobody to love him.
Only his mother could always be relied on. A mother would love her precious boy forever.
* * *
Pei Yan crouched in front of the television cabinet in his bedroom, pushing aside the collector’s-edition films Zhuang Xiao had starred in, posters and merchandise, and some privately copied little films and porn videos.
The ones with titles, cast lists, and genres written on them featured other people.
The videos whose identifying information had been deliberately concealed and whose labels were blank featured Zhuang Xiao.
He shut the drawer tightly, took a wide roll of packaging tape, and sealed the entire thing shut, covering every gap along its edges. Brother Xiao’s presence was too strong. Surely his aura would seep out through the cracks.
* * *
After that, Pei Yan went to join his new production. He did not delay a single day. Life had to go on, and a contract still had to be fulfilled.
So he had been dumped. So what? Was he going to let outsiders laugh at him over something like that?
Every new film crew was an opportunity to enter a script and a role, meet a new group of friends, and experience another kind of life. Everyone was young, living and eating together and having a splendid time. Previous matters could be put temporarily out of mind, as though they had never happened.
His previous relationship belonged to the Dragon Battles Heaven’s Pass production. That movie was completely over. Everyone had gone their separate ways. Feelings that developed while sleeping together on location were never meant to last. Once filming ended, everyone parted company. The next time they met, they would be familiar strangers. That was how it always went.
Johnny Wu quietly made inquiries anyway. He learned that Zhuang Xiao had taken a flight out that very night, departing decisively on a one-way ticket back to Los Angeles. His manager Bao Pengzhi and the rest of the team had actually boarded an earlier flight. They had all gone back to America to work.
On set, Johnny Wu wrapped an arm around his precious boy and rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. “It’s all right. Couples break up and get back together all the time. Look at me and my partner. We’ve been together almost twenty years. Guess how many times we’ve broken up?”
“Four,” Pei Yan replied immediately. No need to guess. That chatterbox had told the story countless times. Breaking up and getting back together was apparently an entertaining hobby.
“Exactly! Four times! Every time, he couldn’t bear it and came running back to me. He missed me!” Johnny Wu said.
“How pathetic,” Pei Yan said softly.
“Heh-heh. Anyway, he’s still with me now. No matter how much we changed our minds, we always thought the other person was best. We went around in circles until we ended up where fate meant us to be.” Johnny Wu patted his shoulder.
“That’s the two of you. Do you think he’ll be like you, regret it, and come begging me to get back together?” Pei Yan asked.
Uncle Johnny shrugged. Who knew? Hard to say.
“Would Zhuang Xiao ever beg anyone to get back together? No,” Pei Yan said. “When he says it’s over, he won’t come looking for me again.”
“Ah… let it go.” Uncle Johnny truly ached for the poor boy. He kissed his forehead.
* * *
This new film was another story about men, with a bunch of rough guys spending every day on set rehearsing, filming, exchanging punches and kicks, and driving cars in stunts… Otherwise they ran or worked out. When not doing that, they hunched over boxed lunches, chatting and swapping crude jokes, or teased the actresses in the cast.
It was a co-production between Jiahuang and Hong Kong investors, and several top- and second-tier stars from Hong Kong had joined. The quality of the crew’s food and accommodation rose accordingly. They had to stay in five-star hotels, with minimum requirements for floor level and room area written into their contracts. Even the bathrooms on set had been renovated for them. The toilets absolutely must not smell.
Everyone ate the same boxed lunches, but the side dishes had increased from four to six. The entire crew benefited.
Those industry big shots were dedicated to their work, almost as though bound by an unwritten set of professional standards. In their world, being unprofessional got you ostracized and shut out, eventually thrown aside by the market. They were easygoing too, and especially liked putting their arms around Comrade Old Pei and chatting about life. “Little brother, you can really fight!” “You’re the real Young and Dangerous gangster. Come play with us in Central next time!”
The police-and-gangster film had plenty of fight scenes. Pei Yan played a hot-blooded, rebellious young police officer, with several ferocious battles against the gang leader and corrupt moles within the police. The fights were all hard-hitting, real fists and real feet landing on real bodies.
After one battle, both Pei Yan and a famous Hong Kong star from Central had bruised, swollen faces.
Whenever the cameras stopped, the two men sprawled in their chairs in the most boneless lounging poses imaginable, each holding a bag of ice against his enormously swollen face. The director had made them redo the shot seven or eight times. In the long take, either a kick had not looked forceful enough, or an extra playing a corpse had fallen in the wrong place. Once, a dog wandered into the frame, wagged its tail for ages, and refused to leave.
On the monitor, police and gangsters stood facing each other, pointing their guns, while a dog stood in the middle going woof, woof, woof-woof-woof. Pei Yan was the first to dissolve into laughter.
With his hands on his hips, Pei Yan ordered the canine extra, “Go! Go bark at those guys! Bite them! They’re the criminal organization over there!”
The dog barked twice, looked left and right, decided Pei Yan looked much more like the criminal organization, and charged bravely toward him.
Hahaha! The entire gang of actors burst into laughter.
Pei Yan fled at a run. “What the fuck? I thought you were a police dog! Turns out you’re with the bad guys!”
After a few more failed takes, he had another bruise on his waist.
Hong Kong directors traditionally filmed this way: make it look as real as possible while spending as little as possible. From the top down, everyone worked almost recklessly hard. They especially disliked using computer effects for action scenes. They preferred actual people fighting.
The actors were on set anyway. Digital effects were expensive. Real fighting was cheaper!
The camera moved in close to Pei Yan’s face, capturing genuine close-ups of dark blood from a split brow and individual droplets caught on his eyelashes, showing the cruel beauty of stylized violence.
When an opponent kicked toward him, the director wanted the kick to connect with his body, creating the realistic impression of broken ribs and blood being coughed up.
Pei Yan took kick after kick, flying backward several times in exaggerated slow motion. Every day on set, he saved the production hundreds of thousands in postproduction effects costs. Quite an accomplishment.
A gangster’s “black car” accelerated toward him. The stunt driver was supposed to brake hard at the instant of impact, while Pei Yan dove and rolled to simulate being struck and thrown.
The black car charged toward him. Pei Yan stared at its front…
“Hey!” the action director shouted.
He simply stood in the middle of the street, wind blowing past him, as though he had suddenly fallen into a trance and forgotten what he was supposed to do. His mind was a blank as he watched the vehicle…
Bang! The collision made a terrifyingly loud sound.
The stunt driver was experienced and had already slammed on the brakes, but still struck him. Pei Yan’s body rose into the air. On camera it looked frightening, as though the impact had folded him at the waist before he flew seven or eight meters away…
Everybody was startled and horrified. The action director and crew rushed over.
Pei Yan got up from the ground by himself, one hand against his waist.
He bent forward slightly, then straightened, repeating the motion several times.
“I’m fine.” He moved around. “Nothing’s broken.”
“Take him to the hospital for a report,” the producer ordered at once. “We need to make sure he hasn’t got a concussion.”
“I’m fine. My mind wandered just now.” Pei Yan apologized to the director. “That’s my fault. Sorry. Let’s do it again, everyone!”
* * *
The crew gave Pei Yan a day off to be checked at the hospital and rest in his hotel.
Another layer of swelling had appeared over the bruises on his waist.
Lying in bed with his phone tucked under the covers, he grabbed it immediately at every ringtone and WeChat notification, a certain unrealistic hope still alive inside him. Each time, he silently tucked the phone back beneath his pillow. How foolish.
He had actually sent Zhuang Xiao messages.
He could hardly call them pleas to get back together. Just occasional greetings, really. He wanted the other man to know that he was still here, as long as Zhuang Xiao was willing to turn around.
They were not schoolchildren holding hands for the first time and changing boyfriends as soon as they changed classrooms or desk partners. They were adults who had thought things through, knew their own minds, and did not want to abandon someone they had chosen so easily.
He would not hide his warmth or longing from Zhuang Xiao.
Curled beneath the blanket, he sent another message: [I got hit in the waist while filming. There’s a huge bruise and nobody here to rub it for me. My waist is nearly done for, just like yours.]
For a long time, there was no answer.
He could not help sending another. [Have you been okay lately? Why won’t you answer? Just tell me you’re safe. I want to know you’re all right.]
After a while, Zhuang Xiao finally replied: [I’m fine. Don’t worry.]
Pei Yan stared at the message. Had Zhuang Xiao really written it himself?
Zhuang Xiao had deliberately ignored the message about his injured waist, pretending not to see it.
He really was trying to extinguish the last of Pei Yan’s hope. He was being terribly heartless.
A few days later, the shoot was more than halfway done. When filming wrapped for the evening, the producers drove several leading actors into town for some entertainment.
The Hong Kong stars wanted authentic Peking duck, so the producer reserved a large private dining room at Da Dong Roast Duck Restaurant. He said this was where American presidents came to eat roast duck. Their tender little young ducks supposedly melted in your mouth.
When the duck arrived, Pei Yan exclaimed, “What the fuck? This isn’t a duck. It’s a quail!”
The Hong Kong stars laughed and said the ducks raised in Beijing were so tiny, it seemed a shame to eat them.
The young ducks were small and tender, hardly enough to fill a gap between their teeth. Everybody therefore ordered one whole duck each, expertly sliced and laid in front of them. Pei Yan rolled duck meat in a thin lotus-leaf pancake. It really did melt in the mouth. He swallowed almost one pancake per bite.
They needed other dishes too. Pei Yan told the waiter, “Bring us some spicy chicken with chilies.”
The host paying for dinner laughed. “Precious Yanyan, this restaurant specializes in Beijing and Shandong cuisine. They don’t make Sichuan-style spicy chicken.”
“Oh,” Pei Yan said. “What about Hunan-style stir-fried pork?”
“Beijing and Shandong cuisine!” The man repeated. “How about sea cucumber in abalone sauce? Nine-turn pork intestines? Those are all fine dishes, expensive dishes. They don’t serve cheap things like that here.”
Pei Yan closed the menu. “I want Hunan stir-fried pork. How hard is it to cook? Ask the chef to make one special plate for me.”
Throughout dinner, glasses were raised and lowered amid the bustle of people. Pei Yan drank with everyone, smiling the entire time. When he was around, there were never awkward silences. He could talk to anyone.
The plate of Hunan stir-fried pork sat in front of him alone. Nobody else bothered with that cheap dish. They were busy eating truffle foie gras and sea cucumber in abalone sauce.
He lowered his head and got to work, carefully picking the cubes, shreds, and tiniest specks of pork from the dish one by one into a clean bowl. Then he gazed at the meat without eating it. He ate only the scallions, ginger, and chilies left on the plate, slowly chewing and savoring them.
From now on I’ll be more sensible too. I’ll learn how to look after someone, how to care for someone.
I’ll be lively when I should be lively and quiet when I should be quiet. If you want me to stay a little farther away, I can do that. I won’t annoy you.
You can have all the meat. I’ll eat the chilies. Everything you like, you can have. Everything you don’t like, I’ll take care of.
Brother Xiao, will you come back?