For Pei Yan, the overwhelming storm of public opinion was something he could only grit his teeth and endure.
He had accumulated plenty of scandals since entering the industry. He’d never been a completely innocent, spotless figure. This affair had simply stripped away the newly scrubbed image of a righteous young hero and revealed his old self beneath it. Remove Young Hero Pei’s handsome outer shell, and there was the unruly monkey spirit again.
Nobody yet knew what would happen next, because his eldest maternal uncle, Xu Qiyue, had fled.
Apparently Xu had heard rumors from higher authorities ahead of time and boarded a plane before the investigation reached him. Rumor said he’d escaped to North or South America, taking a fortune with him.
When your life and property were on the line, what good were elder uncles and sworn brothers? All those grand declarations of brotherhood were just so much noise, empty as farts! President Xu had simply dumped the mess he’d left behind at home onto Zhang Shaochi and Pei Yan, the big monkey and the little monkey.
Instead, President Zhang and Pei Yan were now both under police orders not to leave the country. They had to remain available for questioning and investigation until the case concluded.
The internet began another year-end review of Little Bald Pei’s “glorious exploits” from the past, telling the stories with great relish. Weibo became a battlefield…
Former friends in the industry and colleagues from film crews knew to keep quiet now. Nobody wanted to get splashed with the scandal or draw fire upon himself. Old enemies seized the opportunity to celebrate, leaping about like a carnival of demons. There had never been a shortage of people in the industry willing to kick somebody while he was down or add fuel to a fire. Very few would offer warmth to someone in trouble.
Everyone fell silent, except, unexpectedly, Brother Xing.
Xing Rong posted on Weibo. Without mentioning a specific case, he said something to this effect: What entertainer isn’t just a pawn being moved around by powerful company bosses and industry magnates? How much do we really get to decide for ourselves? And those mighty men sitting behind the chessboard, controlling everything, shouldn’t just rake in the money and count their profits while laughing behind our backs, then dump the blame on the artists whenever something goes wrong. How is that right?
He hadn’t named anyone, but spectators crowded into the comments. Everybody assumed Brother Rong was referring to Pei Yan’s situation, speaking up for Yanyan and accusing the financiers behind the scenes of dirty dealings and transferring blame.
Who had ever dared openly criticize their rich sponsors before? Brother Rong clearly didn’t intend to survive in the industry anymore.
Naturally, the post made him a target. People immediately revived the scandal at the Golden Phoenix Awards in Shanghai, alleging that Xing Rong had thrown another person’s trophy in a backstage tantrum after losing an award. Some reports stated confidently that Young Master Rong and Zhuang Xiao had behaved intimately, coming and going together, suggesting that an old romance between them had been rekindled.
What old romance? Heaven knew. Gossip required no accountability.
Xu Ran, whose trophy had been thrown, liked one of the exposés on Weibo, then published a tearful post describing how unfairly he’d suffered when his trophy was damaged. He portrayed himself as pitiful and heartbroken and received countless messages of sympathy.
Xing Rong immediately fired back with another post: “Stop acting so pitiful, you drama queen. You worked yourself half to death chasing that trophy and you’re not even ashamed. Your boss has licked the skin off your feet. Have you thrown your dignity away too?”
Then he tagged Xu Ran directly and added: “Don’t make snide comments about people without naming them. If you’ve got the nerve to talk about me, have the nerve to @ me!”
Everybody watching was stunned. What a spectacle!
From then on, Young Master Rong and Princess Ran were publicly at war.
At this rate, the paparazzi at Leixing Studio might as well retire. The celebrities were increasingly eager to put on the show themselves. Two young male idols from Jiahuang had thrown off their masks and rolled up their sleeves for a public fight. What entertainment!
Neither man was easy to deal with. They’d probably accumulated grudges competing for company resources long before this. One wrote a post, the other wrote a reply, each increasingly scathing, venting accumulated resentment. Their respective fans bombarded one another with comments and insults. In the process, they actually drew some of the attention away from Pei Yan’s scandal.
* * *
Two days later, it was time for Jiahuang’s boss, Zhang Shaochi, to take the stage again.
This time the occasion was the premiere of the fantasy blockbuster Yellow River, which Jiahuang had financed and filmed the previous winter. A lavish American-Chinese coproduction with a star-studded cast, it had required expensive and complicated post-production. Its release date had been delayed repeatedly. Finally it was coming to theaters during the winter school holiday season, with an enormous publicity campaign.
With enemies closing in on every side and the company shaken by the reopened cases, President Zhang did not cancel the premiere. He went ahead with the original plans and completed the ceremony as if nothing had happened.
Zhang Shaochi sat smoking in his executive chair behind his enormous desk. He stared hard through one layer after another of drifting smoke, trying to see what lay ahead, only to find the world more opaque than ever, the haze practically blinding him…
Life itself had become an absurd fantasy blockbuster.
The little monkey had left him. Now his sworn elder brother had betrayed him too.
He was the King of Hell who cared about money above people. He had never expected to discover that someone else valued money over people even more than he did, someone who had stabbed him brutally in the back, leaving him staggering and bleeding.
“Brotherhood” was a load of fucking nonsense.
“Keep an eye on the press section. Take good care of all the journalists. Give them the best treatment. Don’t slight anyone.”
“Yes, Deputy Director Chen should be attending later. Confirm that with him again. We need to greet him properly.”
“Has Zhuang Xiao arrived? Call him. Call his manager… Make sure he comes. He absolutely has to.”
“Who’s asking? Which outlet wants a red envelope? … I have never handed out red envelopes for a movie. Tell them they can run their stories if they like. If not, don’t bother!”
Zhang Shaochi’s voice was hoarse, roughened by smoke.
Every so often his fingers trembled, scattering cigarette ash across the floor.
Should I admit defeat?
Have I lost?
He couldn’t admit defeat and would never surrender. He wouldn’t give other people the pleasure of laughing at Jiahuang. His company was still powerful and wealthy. He could afford a few movie releases and premieres, each more lavish than a Golden Phoenix Festival or even some Golden Crow Festival.
Sitting opposite President Zhang on the sofa in his office was Pei Yan’s mother, Xu Qishang.
They’d been glaring at one another across the room all morning, almost without speaking.
Today’s film premiere was scheduled for the Capital Theater across the street from Jiahuang headquarters. Colorful decorations surrounded its entrance, and a thirty-meter red carpet had been laid for celebrities and guests. A very tall billboard stood outside, advertising a “Special Solo Performance Marking Forty Years on Stage for Celebrated Jingju and Kunqu Artist Ms. Xu Qishang.” Its huge photograph of the magnificently costumed “Consort Xu” was breathtaking.
During the day the theater would host Jiahuang’s film premiere. That evening, Ms. Xu Qishang would stage her special performance.
The lobby was filled with congratulatory flower baskets. President Zhang had sent two of them himself to wish Consort Xu a successful performance. They were all family, after all.
Only a couple of days earlier, Xu Qishang had gone in person to confront another member of the family, Xu Qiyue. The place was empty. President Xu’s villa in the outskirts of Beijing had been locked up.
Several groups of cheated creditors had already come looking for him. The main gate had been dented by blows. Every window on the ground floor was broken. Red paint had been sprayed over the building, and several large funeral wreaths had been left at the entrance…
Xu Qishang had been so furious she almost spat blood.
She walked around the villa in search of the culprit, but there was nobody to be found. Luckily, half a bucket of red paint had been left near the door. She picked it up, climbed onto a ground-floor windowsill, and flung the remaining paint into the living room, soaking the expensive imported sectional leather sofa.
* * *
Pei Yan pushed open the office door and came inside, looking for Zhang Shaochi. He saw his mother too.
Xu Qishang’s eyes were swollen and reddish. She hadn’t even put her makeup on yet, and she plainly hadn’t slept.
“Mom, why don’t you go home and rest? You’ve still got your performance tonight,” Pei Yan said.
“How can I think about performing? I’m upset too,” Xu Qishang answered.
“Mom…” Pei Yan said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing to me?” Xu Qishang was even more distressed. She couldn’t bear seeing her son bullied.
She looked up at President Zhang. At last she couldn’t hold back the question she’d been wanting to ask. Why hadn’t he spoken up earlier?
“Zhang Shaochi, if you’d told me any of this sooner, if I’d known, I’d never have let Yanyan enter those fight tournaments. What did he need to fight for? His life was on the line! And I never would have let him join your company. You just kept hiding things, hiding things, hiding things!”
“What do you mean, my company?” Zhang Shaochi gripped the burning cigarette butt in his palm and glared with reddened eyes. “Was I the only one involved? Whose name is Jiahuang registered under? Isn’t it Xu?”
“Yes! Xu Qiyue did it. I didn’t know. If I’d known I’d have slapped him twice and dragged Yanyan back home with me!” Xu Qishang cried angrily. “Of all the people to cheat, you had to cheat your own family. You had to hurt my Yanyan!”
“Did I cheat him? Your family took every advantage and now you’re playing innocent!” Storm clouds swirled in Zhang Shaochi’s eyes. “Yanyan’s a star now, an enormous star. He’s made plenty of money. Only now that he’s famous do you say you regret letting him enter the industry. When he wasn’t famous, everybody was desperate to make him a star. If it hadn’t been for Xu Qiyue, you think I’d have put an entire company’s resources behind promoting him?”
“No matter how badly you want to be famous, you can’t earn that money at the cost of your conscience. You can’t destroy another family’s child!” Xu Qishang declared. “I know my Yanyan isn’t like that. He doesn’t think the way you and Xu Qiyue think. You go make your fortunes and my son and I will live our own lives. Why did you have to drag us into it?”
“Does being mixed up with us dirty your skirts?” Zhang Shaochi asked coldly. “What happened in that tournament is obvious enough. Wasn’t it all so your son would win?”
In anger, both spoke recklessly and hurt each other more deeply. Ultimately none could bear betrayal from behind. The blow had landed hard, and everybody was left wounded and unwilling to accept it.
“Mom,” Pei Yan said, stopping their argument.
Enough.
There was no need to dispute the facts anymore. Eriletu had been “disobedient,” refusing to follow the bosses’ orders about which fights to win or lose and declining to participate in fixed matches. So he was to be taught a lesson. As luck would have it, that day’s opponent was President Xu’s own nephew. Naturally the investor’s nephew had to win… The original scheme had been very simple: make the stubborn young fighter lose and take a beating. Nobody had expected Pei Yan to fight so fiercely that the victim would be disabled for life, leaving the incident impossible to cover up.
Pei Yan slowly crouched before his mother and lowered his eyes. “Mom, what happened had something to do with me. I can’t simply blame other people. I was the one who did it.”
Xu Qishang’s eyes immediately filled. “It’s Xu Qiyue’s fault! He’s the biggest bastard of all. It had nothing to do with you!”
“Mom.” Pei Yan shook his head and interrupted her. “Let me be completely sincere. First, I could have won that fight without any rigging. I was capable of winning. Second, I really shouldn’t have fought the way I did. I regret it so very, very much.”
Xu Qishang stared at him.
After only a few days apart, something about her son’s expression had changed. He wasn’t quite the boy he had been before.
Pei Yan continued, “I think if Brother Xiao had been in that ring instead of me, someone like Zhuang Xiao would never have disabled a person with one kick. Zhuang Xiao fought in tournaments too, and he’s so far ahead of me in martial arts I couldn’t even carry his shoes. In all these years he’s never kicked anyone into a disability. He wouldn’t have done it… In the end it was my own fault. I know I was wrong.”
It was easy to proclaim that benevolence and chivalry were the heart of one’s martial principles, never imagining a mistake that would make those slogans ring hollow. Some wrongs could only be regretted and amended afterward. The loss itself could never be undone.
At least their studio hadn’t taken money from his eldest uncle. They’d separated from Jiahuang’s circle, and there were no longer business or financial dealings between them. They owed each other nothing.
When her little monkey lowered his head and admitted, “I know I was wrong,” Xu Qishang’s heart ached so terribly she began to cry.
This stubborn, proud, precious boy, who cared more about his dignity than anything else. When had he ever admitted wrongdoing to anyone?
Xu Qishang dabbed her nose with a handkerchief and straightened her skirt. Even after an argument she held her back perfectly straight. “Yanyan, I just feel our family owes A-Xiao’s family so much. We owe his father an apology… Another day we should visit him, take him out for a meal, and apologize properly. As for money, we should compensate them as much as we can. Xu Qiyue, that bastard, has run away. From now on, we can pretend we’ve never known him. If he won’t pay, we will.”
Pei Yan sighed.
“Haven’t we already paid with something from our family?” he said. “I gave myself to Brother Xiao.”
“You think you’re worth much?” Xu Qishang immediately rolled her eyes. What a cheap thing to say.
“Maybe I’m not worth much, but I gave myself with all my heart,” Pei Yan mumbled, frowning.
* * *
The fantasy blockbuster’s premiere began outside the Capital Theater.
Reporters crowded in from every direction, and fans cheered in great waves.
During its private industry previews, critics had torn the film to shreds. The characters were weak, the plot full of holes, the expensive visual effects left audiences unmoved, and the massive crowd scenes looked like synchronized gymnastics in a sports stadium. Nevertheless, this was a star-studded holiday blockbuster. The promoters had managed to bring Hollywood star Jason Banner in person, creating a grand spectacle and drawing enormous attention. Films of this kind always found their audience. During the New Year holidays, people could sit for two and a half hours eating popcorn without needing to use their brains.
Reporters leaned over the barriers with their microphones outstretched. Little-known celebrities hired to support the event danced and posed along the red carpet, reluctant to leave.
The final red-carpet arrivals were Zhuang Xiao and Jason, the film’s two leads. Both tough guys walked down from the far end of the noisy carpet in striking black suits and deliberately dark sunglasses. They strode past the cameras with stern faces, prompting shrieks from the crowd.
Afterward the actors went inside the theater to interact with reporters and fans onstage.
Pei Yan spent the whole day hiding in a corner beside the stage backdrop, secretly looking out at everyone, especially Brother Xiao.
He wasn’t in this film, and there was no reason for him to be onstage today. With scandal raging around him, he shouldn’t come out and make a spectacle of himself.
If he appeared, he would cause trouble for both Zhuang Xiao and President Zhang. People had already mocked Zhuang Xiao for blocking the paparazzi convoy in the street. Plenty of voices attacked the two men’s relationship, calling Zhuang Xiao unfilial: how could he be romantically entangled with Pei Yan when he had grudges against two generations of Jiahuang’s leaders? Was he trying to drive his own father to an early grave?
Zhuang Xiao looked so handsome onstage.
When he smiled he had a dimple, but his presence was commanding. He could hold an entire stage.
Thanks to the success of Dragon Battles Heaven’s Pass and all his appearances during awards season, Zhuang Xiao’s fans were out in enormous force, even louder than those of the more highly paid Jason Banner.
Jason didn’t speak the language. He’d managed to learn only “ni hao” and “wo ai ni,” and that was all.
Zhuang Xiao acted as an impromptu translator and played jokes on him. A timid young male fan at the edge of the stage asked Jason to sign his T-shirt. When Jason turned to ask what the boy had said, Zhuang Xiao translated into English: “The kid says he’s Bruce Lee’s relative, knows how to use nunchaku, and wants to challenge you right here. He says you won’t stand a chance.” Jason exaggeratedly covered his head with both hands and jumped back several steps, sending the auditorium into peals of laughter…
The two leading actors left the stage, and comic supporting performers came on to sing and dance. The leads had gone to change costumes and would soon return dressed as the mighty medieval warriors from their film.
The audience went wild. This was the event’s main attraction.
Zhuang Xiao wore a long black wig, his braid falling over his shoulder, with makeup paint covering his face. His upper body was bare. He’d been in love and happy this past year, and all the weight he’d once lost had come back. He radiated masculine vitality.
The stage featured a special set for the two stars to perform a few of their heroic stunts and recreate famous moments from the movie. An extremely tall structure had been erected and thick foam landing mats laid across the floor. Were they really going to fly through the air?
On the large screen, beautiful red rocks and green cedars filled an enormous canyon. The scenery looked spectacular.
From behind the curtain Pei Yan stared. The promoters meant the stars to recreate the movie’s stunts onstage: leap into the canyon, draw a bow and shoot in midair like Hou Yi bringing down the sun, spin through several revolutions, then land safely on the mat.
It was tremendously difficult, though for Zhuang Xiao it was a simple matter.
Still, Pei Yan looked up at the height. As a professional, he couldn’t help worrying about the safety of a temporary rig.
He took two steps forward, stopped, then quietly retreated into the shadows at the side of the stage…
Biting his lip, he suddenly felt desperately sad, torn between choices, not knowing what to do. At any other time, he’d have gone straight over.
The stunt crew were fastening a harness onto Zhuang Xiao and arranging the safety ropes. Previously, whenever Pei Yan was present on a production, that was his job. He didn’t trust anyone else to do it. He’d personally secure Brother Xiao’s ropes, inspect every nearby precaution, and make absolutely certain it was safe before letting him jump.
Flashes erupted across the audience.
Zhuang Xiao looked over his shoulder, as though searching for someone.
Pei Yan ducked farther behind the curtain, terrified that a camera would catch him.
Zhuang Xiao looked back again. This time he saw where Pei Yan was crouching. He pointed directly at him and beckoned with one finger.
Pei Yan froze. What are you doing?
Zhuang Xiao was partly silhouetted against the lights, his expression hard to read. He beckoned again: Old Pei. Come here.
Pei Yan hesitated. The cameras had already turned toward him, exposing his hiding place. In a low voice he protested, “What are you doing? I’m not coming out!”
“Old Pei, come here. Help me with the ropes,” Zhuang Xiao said.
Pei Yan had no answer.
In full view of everyone, every spotlight, gaze, and camera at the venue was now trained on the two of them. Pei Yan thought he might go mad…