Back at the filming location in Northern California, Zhuang Xiao went straight back to work. He apologized to the directing team and put in overtime to make up the scenes that had fallen behind.
Pei Yan quietly checked into a hotel not far from the shoot. Nobody outside their circle knew he was there, and they could not let the crew discover that an acquaintance was staying nearby.
With Zhuang Xiao leaving early and coming home late from filming, Pei Yan had settled completely into the idle life of a rich young master, almost as though he were a kept man. In more than two years in the entertainment industry, he had never been this free. Every morning he sent the great lord of the household off to work, climbed back beneath the quilt, and slept until noon.
Then he stared at the large clock on the wall, waiting for his man to finish work and come home.
He was pining for his husband so badly that he almost despised himself. He had never been like this before.
No assistant leaned over his bed to drag him up and hurry him to work. He no longer raced frantically from city to city to make appearances, no longer moved among the bright lights, the glamour, and the endless admiration that had once followed his every gesture… The pocket money in his regular account kept shrinking without anything coming in, and he had already maxed out this month’s credit card…
Zhuang Xiao usually took a backpack to the set. But that morning he had emptied it and left the little bear inside with Mr. Pei.
Zhuang Xiao said the bear had finally met the person it was meant to represent. It had always been you.
The moment Pei Yan saw the bear, he laughed like a lunatic.
How could that bear look so much like him? The ski hat and the painfully tacky blue down jacket were almost exactly the outfit he had worn in Beijing. So foolish, so adorably stupid.
Zhuang Xiao said, “When I saw that photo you sent me, the one taken in some bar, with your eyes red and you dressed just like this… I thought we must both have been under a spell. How else would I have bought a bear that looks exactly like you?”
“And then? You were overwhelmed by emotion? Deeply moved by me?” Pei Yan asked.
“My heart ached for you,” Zhuang Xiao said.
“So you impulsively apologized and asked to make up with me? Heh-heh.” Pei Yan cocked his head and shot him a sideways glance.
“You followed me all the way to my doorstep, forced me to apologize, and insisted on getting back together. What else could I do?” Zhuang Xiao smiled and touched his head.
Before he had finished speaking, Pei Yan pounced like a wolf, launching a judo throw in an attempt to beat him up.
One hand grabbed Zhuang Xiao’s collar and the other caught his crotch. He tried a shoulder throw, intending to flip him clean over. Zhuang Xiao rolled over Pei Yan’s back, somehow landed on his feet, grabbed him in return, and sent him into a shoulder throw of his own, adding a vicious leg sweep for good measure.
“Aaah!” Pei Yan lost his balance and went flat on his back. Zhuang Xiao lifted him hard but lowered him gently before pinning him down. “Well, kid? Had enough?”
Held against the floor by his collar, Pei Yan could not stop laughing. “Just you wait. Give me another fifty years to sleep on brushwood and taste gall. Someday I’ll beat you for sure!”
“Fine. I’ll wait,” Zhuang Xiao said.
* * *
Sitting alone on the balcony, Pei Yan breathed air so clean the visibility seemed endless. Far away he could see the snow-covered mountains in the national park, their white caps glittering like crystal beneath the sun.
Someone knocked at his hotel-room door. He froze, suddenly cautious. Had the paparazzi somehow tracked him down?
The knocking continued. Eventually the person outside telephoned him. “Sir, we have flowers for you.”
Pei Yan opened the door.
He received an enormous square box. Inside was a little “bear” made of 1,314 blue and white roses arranged into a floral sculpture.
Pei Yan stood dumbstruck in the middle of the room, holding the blue-rose teddy bear. A card hung from the bear’s chest: [I am Yanyan Bear.]
He immediately called Zhuang Xiao and bellowed into his voicemail. Was this you? Have you gone crazy? When did you secretly order me a flower bear? How could I not know?
Zhuang Xiao was busy on set and called back about forty minutes later. “Did it arrive? I ordered it yesterday.”
Something strange happened to Pei Yan’s voice over the telephone. It softened without permission. “What are you doing?”
Zhuang Xiao smiled faintly. “I remember you said you didn’t like getting flowers. Well, they’re from me. Do you like them?”
What a stupid question.
They were from Brother Xiao. What did you think? Did he like them, or didn’t he?
“I originally thought of sending nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine flowers, to mean ‘forever and ever,’” Zhuang Xiao laughed again. “But someone else already sent you 9,999! You’ve already promised to last ‘forever and ever’ with somebody else. All I can give you is ‘one life, one lifetime.’ It’s not that I’m too stingy to spend the money.”
Elio’s Notes: In Chinese, 1,314 (yī sān yī sì) echoes yī shēng yī shì, “one life, one lifetime.” The 9,999 roses symbolize a love that lasts and lasts (jiǔ jiǔ). The two numbers make Zhuang Xiao’s deliberately different proposal especially meaningful.
“Cut it out. Don’t remind me of that disgusting business,” Pei Yan scolded with a laugh.
“I wasn’t trying to disgust you,” Zhuang Xiao said. “I just want to court you again, properly this time. Don’t turn your nose up at me.”
“Roses have this sweet fragrance, don’t they? The whole room smells of them… Mm, but they’re not really my style… I’m not the kind of man people send flowers to. I’m a real guy. I’m usually the type to mail razor blades to other people and receive razor blades in return. Flowers? I don’t know the first thing about flowers…” Pei Yan paced around the room, rambling on and on, his heart already in complete disarray and a huge grin fixed across his face.
He would never turn his nose up at them.
Could it always be this warm from now on?
Would you always spoil me this way?
* * *
When Zhuang Xiao returned to the hotel after work that evening, the rose bear was sitting on the small dining table, filling the room with a cloying sweetness. Beside it stood several dishes, freshly cooked and still steaming.
Well, miracles did happen. Somebody had started learning to cook.
And he had even switched hotel rooms just to make one meal. He had originally booked a standard room with a king-size bed, but now he had moved to a family suite with a kitchen. Zhuang Xiao came back to find a foolish bear blundering around the room in an apron. Now who could that be?
“One night and you’ve already changed rooms?” Zhuang Xiao eyed the young master.
“Fire one shot and move to a new position!” Pei Yan declared, then corrected himself. “No, wait. Fire one load and change the bed! A fresh bed every night!”
“That doesn’t sound good. Almost like getting a different wife every night,” Zhuang Xiao said.
Pei Yan advanced on him with a spatula. “What did you say?”
“Nothing. I’m actually very attached to the old and familiar.” Suppressing a smile, Zhuang Xiao caught the handle of the spatula and leaned in to kiss his cheek.
How could Pei Yan possibly know how to cook? His mother, Xu Qishang, was not much of a cook either, and certainly had never been the dutiful housewife type who studied recipes at home. Her son was even worse. Every member of that family was talented and capable outside the home, but once they shut the door and tried to manage daily life, they were hopeless. They were a family of connoisseurs, good at eating and buying things, not making them.
Pei Yan had been so bored at the hotel that afternoon that he finally ventured out alone to browse a supermarket.
The neighborhood was full of Chinese immigrants and Chinese shops: Hong Kong-style cafés, roast-meat restaurants, bakeries, and entire chains of Chinese supermarkets.
He rummaged through his very limited stock of recipes and realized there was not a single dish he cooked well. About the only things he could manage were diced chicken in a rich bean sauce and pan-braised tofu.
As he shopped, he sent Zhuang Xiao a message. [Do you like tofu?]
Zhuang Xiao replied, [Whose tofu?]
Pei Yan laughed and typed, [Not anybody’s tofu. Actual tofu. I’m buying groceries.]
Zhuang Xiao: [What are you buying? Don’t go getting yourself recognized.]
Pei Yan: [Don’t care. If they recognize me, I’ll say I’m shopping and cooking for my Brother Xiao. Let the paparazzi photograph me!]
Zhuang Xiao: [Then I’ll eat it!]
Pei Yan asked again: [Do you like it soft or firm?]
Zhuang Xiao: [Whatever. Pick the kind you like.]
Pei Yan: [Our tastes are different. Obviously I like mine older and firmer. You clearly like yours younger and softer.]
Zhuang Xiao was almost driven mad by this endless chatter. Fuck, what an annoying man. [Then buy the firm one. You eat the tofu, I’ll eat you. I’m going back to work.]
Mr. Pei had been acting entirely out of kindness. He was thinking of the poor old man’s frail condition and injured jaw and wanted to make him something soft so he would not hurt his teeth.
A little later, Pei Yan wandered from the refrigerated vegetables to the raw-meat section and started pestering him again. [Want some chicken?]
“Whose? Yours?” Zhuang Xiao seemed to have reached the end of his patience and sent an exasperated voice message.
“DICED CHICKEN IN BEAN SAUCE! DO YOU WANT IT OR NOT?” Pei Yan laughed like a maniac and replied by voice too.
Without missing a beat, Zhuang Xiao said, “I’ll have your chicken juices, straight in my mouth.”
Pei Yan was about to explode right there in the supermarket…
He wanted to charge straight onto the set, kidnap Brother Xiao, drag him back to the hotel, and have his way with him.
Now he understood. Zhuang Xiao had been deliberately distant in the past, refusing to get intimate with anyone.
But once he actually wanted to be intimate with Pei Yan, this old fox, seasoned by more than a decade in the world, could flatten him with a few dirty jokes… That supposedly nonexistent sex drive had been a fucking act.
And so Zhuang Xiao came home to a whole table of hot dishes.
Pei Yan hugged him from behind and nibbled at his ear. “The chicken juices for your mouth can come later. Eat your diced chicken first.”
Zhuang Xiao enthusiastically ate every last bit of the tofu and chicken. He cleared the table, leaving the plates and bowls so clean they might as well have been licked, and praised Pei Yan’s cooking as “delicious.”
“Really delicious?” Even Pei Yan doubted it. “I wasted so many ingredients.”
“What did you do?” Zhuang Xiao asked.
“Practiced! The first batch tasted so awful I threw it away and made it again. Kept trying until it was at least edible.” Pei Yan confessed without embarrassment.
“It’s far better than the cabbage fried noodles on set. Really. They don’t even give us chicken in those boxed noodle meals.”
“You must be starving!” Pei Yan laughed.
“I really am.” Zhuang Xiao nodded. “I’ve been hungry for twenty years. Never had a meal that filled me up like this.”
Pei Yan knew what he meant. He answered with a shameless grin. “Nobody’s fed you their chicken in twenty years? Fine, I’ll feed you. I promise I’ll fill you up tonight, Beauty…”
Zhuang Xiao had brought Mr. Pei a little present from the national park’s souvenir shop. It was a miniature woodland cabin made from flour and sugar, with the word HOME written over the doorway.
Home.
Home meant coming back from work each day to a pool of warm yellow light in the kitchen, a hot meal on the table, and a wonderful person waiting there for him.
Wasn’t that what any ordinary man with his heart in the right place longed for?
For a long time afterward, Zhuang Xiao developed the habit of bringing Pei Yan little gifts whenever he came home. Sometimes they were cheap things he had spotted and bought on impulse: a refrigerator magnet from a scenic spot, perhaps, or a miniature handmade booklet in which he wrote a few impressions from the set and sentimental little lines he would never dare say aloud to Mr. Pei…
The “Rose Bear” stood beside the bed, along with “Yanyan Bear” in its down jacket, while the temperature in the room seemed to climb.
No matter what position Pei Yan found himself in, he could always see those two little bears. One on either side, they stared wide-eyed at the tattoos shaking on his lower back and watched him cry out in bed…
Zhuang Xiao embraced him from behind and kissed him again and again. There was no need for elaborate declarations of intimacy. Their breathing already said everything…
For several days running, Zhuang Xiao left work the instant the day’s filming ended. Instead of eating the crew’s boxed meals or extra sandwiches, he rushed back to the hotel for a meal cooked specially for him.
Mr. Pei’s repertoire of home cooking advanced from tomatoes tossed with sugar to cold shredded-tofu salad, and from plain scrambled eggs to scrambled eggs with Chinese chives.
“I’m improving every day,” Pei Yan declared. “Chives!”
After about three days of this, Zhuang Xiao stepped onto the scale after dinner and found that he had gained back six jin.
“That’s impossible!” Pei Yan laughed. “I know chives are supposed to nourish the kidneys, but can they really put weight on you?”
“Three dinners cooked by you, a few hundred million descendants shot out of me, and I’ve still put on six jin.” Zhuang Xiao stepped off the digital scale, looking equally astonished.
Zhuang Xiao held him under one arm and tickled him until he laughed. “Hard to say whether you’ve eaten more than you’ve shot out!”
Zhuang Xiao leaned close to his ear. “So ejaculation makes you gain weight. Let’s have a few more rounds tonight.”
Pei Yan whispered something filthy in return.
Roughly speaking, he said that swallowing all that “chicken juice” was the best way to put on weight. You’d swallowed several hundred million of my descendants too, hadn’t you? No wonder you’d gained six jin of padding in just three days!
With a cold laugh, Zhuang Xiao stroked his head and dragged him toward the bathroom. Their shadows tangled together beneath the sitting-room lights, as reluctant to let go of each other as the men themselves. Time for a bath…
Every time Zhuang Xiao came home from filming, he brought some minor ailment with him.
That special braided hairstyle required enormous quantities of dyes and setting products. When he washed his hair, whole handfuls came loose.
The edges of his face around the hairline were red too. He appeared to have developed a mild allergic reaction.
In the bathroom, Zhuang Xiao bent forward a little while Pei Yan washed his hair and dried it with a large towel.
“Can’t you bend any farther?” Pei Yan complained. “I can’t reach you. Bring your head down.”
“Tired. Hurts. Can’t bend any farther,” Zhuang Xiao grunted.
He used to dislike saying the words tired or hurts. Now he said them quite often. It was almost as though he were acting spoiled.
“You’re not tired from filming, are you?” Pei Yan sneered. “You’re tired from last night, aren’t you?”
“That’s right,” Zhuang Xiao said.
“Your back always picks exactly the right time to give out,” Pei Yan complained. “Whenever you want to have your way with me, your back works perfectly. Never gives you trouble. Strong as an ox. Last time I wanted to have my way with you, why did your back suddenly hurt? Have you got no shame?”
Zhuang Xiao burst out laughing.
“What the hell!” Laughing too, Pei Yan reached out and scratched him like a wildcat.
After bathing, they lay in bed and looked through the news.
American websites had posted unofficial year-end award selections chosen by media outlets and film critics. As expected, Drunken Fist had been named among the year’s winners for Best Action Choreography. Pei Yan himself had been singled out for extravagant praise. The reviews all suggested that the younger generation was overtaking its elders. He could play heroes and villains equally well, showed tremendous range, and had an almost limitless future ahead of him at such a young age.
According to the critics, it was a pity that neither the Golden Globes nor the Academy Awards had a category for action choreography. That showed how the industry overlooked the brilliant artists working behind the scenes in this field. A movie with fight choreography and visual effects as impressive as Drunken Fist ought to be eligible for an award.
Zhuang Xiao stroked Pei Yan’s face and praised him from the bottom of his heart. “My wife is amazing.”
“Tsk, that sounds weird. Are you talking about me?” Pei Yan grunted.
“You can go on pretending you’re not my wife when we’re out in public,” Zhuang Xiao said.
Pei Yan sprawled comfortably across the bed, limbs spread in every direction, searching the internet for more compliments about himself. Who didn’t enjoy beautiful words of praise? Everyone did. Drunken Fist had performed very well at the North American box office during its three weeks in theaters. For the quiet period between the end of winter and the beginning of spring, its attendance was particularly impressive. The movie would soon be released in mainland China too, even if both Chinese-born leads were, for their own reasons, abroad and unable to attend the domestic premiere.
The publicity team had kept its lips sealed. The public remained in the dark, left to make guesses from rumors and scattered clues.
Pei Yan could also guess who had stabbed him so viciously in the back at the company during his lowest point, presenting President Zhang with that detailed gossip exposé and nearly provoking Zhang Shaochi into a full-blown confrontation with him.
That “original-sin dossier” had contained many intimate details from the early days of his relationship with Zhuang Xiao, even secretly taken photographs of them behaving affectionately on set. All of those incidents had happened during the production of Dragon Battles Heaven’s Pass. It was obvious whose publicity team was best placed to strike from the shadows. Within the company, the divisions under different directors routinely poached each other’s talent and undermined each other. There was only so much cake to go around. If they could kick Pei Yan out, their own side could grab a few more slices…
Meanwhile, the faithful fans of the Zhuang and Pei camps kept falling in love with each other all through the cold winter. Every now and then they lobbed pink atomic bombs across the internet, enthusiastically creating affectionate topics on their own. One day somebody drew a fan illustration of Yanyan Baby riding a little white lamb, horns on his head, to bring Brother Xiao a New Year gift. Another day someone wrote a short fanfiction extra in which Brother Xiao made a bowl of noodles with gravy on set to warm Yanyan up. There were plenty of things like that.
During the most difficult years, fans could be the loveliest people in the world, quietly continuing to cheer for you. Even if you disappeared, exiled yourself, or wandered to the farthest ends of the earth, they made you believe they would follow you there. Even when you were ready to give up on yourself, they still weren’t ready to give up on you.
Zhuang Xiao watched Pei Yan.
The man lying on the bed, aimlessly scrolling on his phone and watching television, did not look especially excited or happy. Instead, he was admiring other people’s success through a screen.
Xiangjiang Satellite TV was airing the domestic version of The Amazing Race in its weekend variety slot, but the two of them were not among the guests. There was no way they could take part now. They had missed this season and could only watch everybody else running around happily in the program…
Mr. Pei shouldn’t have to live this way. He should not be reduced to this.
Three days would be fine.
Three months might be fine.
But three years? The next twenty years? He shouldn’t have to spend any of them like this. Zhuang Xiao had no intention of letting Yanyan endure that kind of disappointment.
Xu Qishang called, worried that nobody was looking after her son over there.
“Look how rosy and healthy I am! What are you worrying about?” Pei Yan rolled over on the bed and grinned into the video call. “Your Majesty, take a look. Have I put on weight, Your Humble Son?”
“What weight?” Xu Qishang said. “I can’t see any difference.”
“I really have gotten fatter,” Pei Yan said cheerfully.
He could hardly tell his mother anything too outrageous about all the protein he’d been fed every night.
Xu Qishang looked back at her husband and made little noises and pointed gestures, signaling to Old Mr. Pei to come over and look at the screen. Old Mr. Pei refused. With his head lowered, he walked away and left the room.
Xu Qishang turned back, lowered her voice, and stretched out the syllables. “He’s a-n-g-r-y. Not happy.”
“Angry with whom? Me?” Pei Yan asked.
Xu Qishang pursed her lips. “Who do you think?”
Pei Yan shrugged. Well, I’m just this shameless.
“This has turned into quite a serious affair. Surely that can’t be a good thing?” Xu Qishang said. “Zhang Shaochi called me personally and talked for ages. He asked me to help persuade you to hurry home before you ruin your filming schedule and your future.”
“What did you tell him?” Pei Yan asked eagerly.
“What could I say?” Xu Qishang snorted. “I gave him a good scolding!
“Of course your mother doesn’t swear when she scolds somebody. That would be so uncivilized! I’m a civilized woman. I just asked Zhang Shaochi why he suddenly remembered to ask me to persuade you. Where had he been before all this happened?
“Why did that little monkey run away? Why did he flee all the way to America? Wasn’t it because you hurt and bullied him? Wasn’t it because you drove his friend away? Why are you so good at breaking up other people’s happiness? Why do you behave like that? What’s wrong with you? How come I never noticed this particular character flaw when you were little? Other wealthy bosses, once they make their fortunes, start thinking about good deeds, giving back, and having monuments built to their virtue. But you go out of your way to stir up trouble! When I have some free time, perhaps I’ll build President Zhang a shrine outside the gate of our residential compound and count up all the wonderful things you’ve done for us over the years!”
Pei Yan lay on his stomach and laughed, imagining Zhang Shaochi’s face going blue. You could offend anyone in the world, but you absolutely shouldn’t offend Ms. Xu.
“And then?” he asked.
“Then he didn’t dare ask me to speak for him again. He was afraid I’d march over to his company to give him another talking-to,” Xu Qishang said.
Whatever happened, in front of outsiders she would fight to defend her son and her family’s dignity.
Xu Qishang’s voice sank. “What are you going to do from now on? …What are your plans?”
“Take things as they come,” Pei Yan said.
“Where exactly are you staying?”
“A hotel,” he answered. “Brother Xiao’s filming here, so I’m staying at a hotel to keep him company.”
Xu Qishang had nothing to say to that. Old Mr. Pei suddenly appeared at the doorway, clearly eager to offer his very important opinion, and pointed a finger. Ms. Xu turned and hissed at him, sending him straight back. Nobody had asked him to interrupt. Who set the tone in this household? Who was in command?
“My dad wants to scold me, doesn’t he?” Pei Yan stuck out his tongue.
“He’s not going to scold you. He just thinks you’re a silly boy who left his brain behind when he fell in love and got tricked and cheated,” Xu Qishang said awkwardly. “He wants to scold your friend.”
“Why scold him? He never tricked me into going anywhere.” Pei Yan turned his phone away and lowered the volume. Zhuang Xiao was right there in the hotel room and must have heard everything.
Zhuang Xiao lowered his eyes and remained silent for a long moment. Of course he had heard. Then he walked straight over.
Pei Yan turned the screen facedown, but Zhuang Xiao took the phone from him and set it upright on the bedside table, facing Ms. Xu.
Xu Qishang immediately straightened up. She placed both hands neatly in front of her, as though she were about to take the stage and needed to prepare for battle.
“Hello, Auntie. I’m Zhuang Xiao,” he said. “I’m terribly sorry we’ve made you worry. This time it really was my fault.”
Pei Yan was so embarrassed that he kept tugging at his arm. Come on, what are you doing? Stop talking about this!
Zhuang Xiao continued, “Last time I broke my promise to have dinner with you and Uncle Pei. That was my fault too. I never expected that our next ‘meeting’ would happen this way. This time, I’m still the one responsible. I’ve thought everything through now. I’ve apologized to Yanyan and asked him to forgive me, and I hope you can forgive me too.”
“Mm. Oh…” Xu Qishang made a couple of little noises. This boy can apologize smoothly enough afterward, can’t he? Such a sweet talker. But I’ve lived long enough to meet plenty of pretty, empty embroidered pillows with sweet mouths.
“Well, if my baby wants it, what can I say?” Xu Qishang smiled tactfully. “Yanyan is impulsive, childish, and a bit thoughtless. Help me look after him.”
“I know. I’ll work hard, make movies, earn money, and take good care of Yanyan,” Zhuang Xiao said.
“All right. You’ve promised me now,” Xu Qishang said. “But don’t make your promises too grand. The more you say, the harder it is to live up to them. I’ll judge you by what you do afterward… I just scolded Zhang Shaochi. Do you think I’d be afraid to scold you?”
Pei Yan covered his face and collapsed into the bed. Aaaaah!
“I understand.” Zhuang Xiao nodded. “I know Yanyan is wonderful, truly wonderful. I don’t want you to think, or for him to think someday, that his life became worse because he chose to be with me. He used to be a young master spoiled by so many people. Now that he’s with me, I’ll make sure he’s still treated like a young master. He was already famous before, with so many people who loved him. I want him to stay famous with me, keep pursuing his career without losing any opportunities, and have just as many people who love him as before…
“When I’ve finished this stretch of filming, the crew will go back to mainland China to shoot the second half. I’ll take Yanyan home then. I’ll stay with him in China. Both of you can rest easy.”
By the time Zhuang Xiao had finished that long speech, even Pei Yan had fallen silent. He said nothing for a long while.
“Mm. Oh…” Xu Qishang raised her eyebrows, surprised. “You’re coming home together? Then… then that’s wonderful! Oh, I nearly forgot. That huge mattress you two had, your uncle and I… well, we slept on it. I’m terribly embarrassed about that! Why don’t you buy a new mattress? I’ll pay for it. I can certainly manage that tiny favor for you!”
Zhuang Xiao struggled to maintain a straight face and glanced at Mr. Pei. Heh.
Pei Yan held Yanyan Bear up over his face. There was no way he could arrange his features into a solemn, dignified expression. This would have to do!
Author’s Note: This chapter is basically a little “extra” inserted after the reunion, pure sweetness. The main story continues afterward.