...
⚹
Tickets for the performance of "Harsh Love Words" sold out immediately upon release. After all, Pei Shaocheng's star power is undeniable. Even though the neighboring "Love Words 2" boasted a dazzling lineup of celebrities, the popularity of the two shows remained neck and neck.
But anyone with a discerning eye knows that the first day of the performance is crucial because it directly determines the show's reputation thereafter.
The performance was still scheduled to take place at Yancheng Theater, but Han Shu and his team specially chose Rusheng Theater, which was only two streets away from the theater. It was also a new venue that Lu Yanchen had invested in, and it could be considered his home ground.
At the crossroads between the two theaters, the crowd chose to go left or right, and the streets and alleys were abuzz with discussion about the past and present of these two plays. Consequently, the past between Wen Yuhan and Han Shu was also brought up again, quickly becoming a trending topic on various media platforms.
Meanwhile, backstage at the Rusheng Theater, Han Shu sat on the sofa, rolling up his script. He nervously tapped his palms and kept glancing at his watch. The ashtray in front of him was piled high with cigarette butts.
"Teacher Han, would you like some water?" The assistant timidly offered Han Shu a cup of tea, but Han Shu waved it away and asked in a somber tone, "Where is the old man?"
"Teacher Liu..." The assistant swallowed hard. "He went to Yancheng Theater."
Han Shu muttered under her breath, "Why did they run over there at this time?!"
The assistant was so startled that his hand trembled, and he almost spilled tea on Han Shu. He said timidly, "Teacher Liu said that he was worried about that side, so he went over to keep an eye on it."
Han Shu snorted coldly upon hearing this: "Does he think he's something special? Doesn't he fear hurting his back with his old bones?" As he said this, he glanced at the time again, threw the script on the coffee table, closed his eyes, and rubbed his temples, as if he was worried about something.
At that moment, a loud whistle sounded behind him. Han Shu's eyes lit up, and he quickly stood up. His previously gloomy expression instantly turned enthusiastic.
"Mr. Lu, you've arrived!"
The person who arrived was Lu Yanchen, followed by a young man who bowed his head like a startled rabbit and said to Han Shu, "Professor Han."
A glint flashed in Han Shu's eyes, but a proper and polite smile appeared on his face: "You must be Xiao Chun. I've often heard President Lu mention you, saying that you have a good foundation and are smart, and that you are bound to achieve great things in the future."
Lin Chunjing's face flushed red and then paled, but finally her gaze settled, and when she looked up again, she had a bright smile on her face: "Thank you for the compliment, Professor Han. Thanks to President Lu's kindness, I am now an artist under his company. President Lu said that I should learn more from you in the future, so please give me your guidance, Professor Han!"
Han Shu patted Lin Chunjing on the shoulder with a smile: "It's good. Your choice is wise. Work hard with President Lu. With his support, I believe you will do very well."
"Thank you, Professor Han!"
Han Shu narrowed her eyes at Lin Chunjing: "Oh, by the way, I heard you want to try to get a spot in the drama academy to study in Greece at the end of the year, right? I'll tell my father about it."
Upon hearing this, Lin Chunjing's eyes lit up, and he bowed deeply to Han Shu twice. His still-childish face already showed the expressions most commonly seen in those industries.
After exchanging brief pleasantries with Lin Chunjing, Han Shu quickly pulled Lu Yanchen aside.
He glanced at the busy crowd backstage and whispered to Lu Yanchen, "Um... Mr. Lu, I wonder what's going on at the Yancheng Theater right now..."
Lu Yanchen toyed with the cigar in his hand, sniffed it, and looked at Han Shu with a smile, saying, "What do you think?"
Han Shu breathed a sigh of relief, finally feeling somewhat at ease, and said with a sigh, "That's good."
Lu Yanchen: "I have done everything I could. I hope Mr. Han will not forget our agreement."
"Don't worry, I won't cause any trouble for President Lu."
"That's good then." Lu Yanchen extended his hand to Han Shu. "Mr. Han, it's a pleasure doing business with you."
...
Chapter 89
With less than an hour to go before the premiere of "Harsh Love Words", audience members had already gone through security checks and taken their seats according to their tickets, guided by theater staff.
Unbeknownst to them, backstage, behind the scenes, the entire crew was facing a massive crisis.
The "accident" that Wen Yuhan had worried about finally happened. Just as the last rehearsal ended and the actors were busy with makeup and waiting to go on stage, the lead actor, Lin Chunjing, suddenly left without saying goodbye, leaving behind only a note tucked in his script, with only three words: I'm sorry.
This unexpected situation was something none of the crew members had ever experienced before. In addition to the intense shock and anger, there was an even greater sense of helplessness and fear.
The usually mild-mannered Xiao Yang was now like a volcano that had completely erupted, veins bulging on his neck, muttering incessantly, "I'm going to kill him... Damn it, I'm going to kill him...!"
The music director, a bearded Russian, unscrewed a bottle of vodka and blew it down his throat, then banged his head against the wall repeatedly, muttering in his long-unspoken native tongue.
Emily took a phone call in the corner, and when she returned, she said to everyone with a stern face, "Lin Chunjing went to Han Shu's place. It must be because the other party made him some kind of promise."
"Damn it!" Xiao Yang cursed, paced anxiously in place for a couple of seconds, then turned to Emily and asked, "Pei Shao... cough, does Mr. Pei know?"
Emily nodded: "Brother Cheng already knows. He said the performance schedule remains unchanged and everyone should focus on waiting for the show to start."
"Xiaochun told me before that he has always wanted to study in Greece. I guess it's because of the limited spots?"
"Holy crap, he dared to betray Mr. Pei?! That's incredibly audacious! How the hell is he going to survive in this industry after this?!"
"Well, their power over there is not to be underestimated. I guess he's been weighing things up for quite a while."
"Even so, why didn't he say so earlier?! Why did he have to disappear at this crucial moment? What else could it be but a malicious act?! What does he take us for, a bunch of idiots playing along with him?!"
"Damn it, yelling at me won't do any good!"
"Who the hell are you cursing?!"
"Stop arguing!" Emily raised her voice, crossed her arms, and glanced around at everyone before lowering her tone and speaking calmly, "My boss has always been a trustworthy person. Since he says the plan remains unchanged, it proves he has a way to resolve this. Now, everyone should focus on their duties and remain calm."
"But the performance is about to start, and now that the lead actor has run away, what can we do?"
"Yes! Or is it still not too late to revise the script? What about Teacher Wen? Is she with Mr. Pei?"
"What a joke! Even if the script could be rewritten now, who could remember so many lines?!"
"I think I'm alright."
A clear and gentle voice suddenly rang out from behind the crowd, flowing in like a clear stream in the otherwise anxious environment.
Everyone turned around in response, and were all taken aback.
Pei Shaocheng stood behind them, dressed in a black haute couture suit embroidered with subtle rose patterns, his eyes deep and unfathomable. He exuded a cold and aloof aura that intimidated people, yet at this moment he gave them a powerful sense of security.
Beside him, Wen Yuhan, with a smile in her eyes, had just buttoned the last button of her shirt. Her calm and composed demeanor contrasted sharply with Pei Shaocheng's, yet they were strangely compatible.
He looked at everyone, then smiled and shrugged: "These clothes are really nice, and comfortable to wear. Can I take them home after the performance?"
Xiao Yang stared blankly at Wen Yuhan, unable to look away from the other's spirited appearance. If he had to describe Teacher Wen at this moment, he could only say that this was the true "Han" in his heart.
Now, he finally had to admit that Wen Yuhan and Pei Shaocheng should have stood side by side.
Pei Shaocheng bent down to straighten Wen Yuhan's clothes and asked gently, "Are you ready?"
Wen Yuhan smiled and said, "To be honest, I'm a little nervous. Let me have another cigarette."
Pei Shaocheng looked at him with eyes full of longing, and whispered in his ear as if no one else was there, "Do you know how beautiful you are right now?"
Wen Yuhan took out his cigarette case, knocked out a cigarette, lit it, and squinted at Pei Shaocheng with a smile: "How about it, do I look like your Han, Andrew?"
“You are my Han.” Pei Shaocheng took a deep breath to calm himself down. Heaven knows that one day he would be able to appear on stage with Wen Yuhan. This was something he never dared to dream of.
The crowd erupted in excitement at Wen Yuhan's appearance. Only then did they realize that the person before them was once a genius who made the entire drama academy proud.
Indeed, perhaps no one in this world understands his play better or is more suited to it than the creator himself.
Pei Shaocheng's eyes remained fixed on Wen Yuhan, and he sighed inwardly, "I'm really afraid I'll forget my lines."
Wen Yuhan brushed the stray hairs from her forehead behind her head, suppressed her smile, gazed into Pei Shaocheng's eyes, and said softly, "I wish us a successful performance."
...
The theater lights dimmed, and amidst the audience's enthusiastic cheers and applause, the curtain slowly rose.
A beam of cold, white light shone on Wen Yuhan, following his slender figure as he slowly walked into the pale red smoke of the stage area. Lonely, ethereal, and mesmerizing, it was breathtakingly beautiful.
He gently closed his eyes, paused for a moment, then slowly opened them again, looking up at the huge, retro-styled chandelier at the top. With his uniquely clear voice, he chuckled lightly, a playful and self-deprecating tone, and uttered the first line of the entire play:
"I'm back."
The audience was immediately drawn to the unfamiliar yet beautiful face on stage, and even forgot to talk to each other and guess who it was.
In an inconspicuous corner at the back of the second floor, an elderly man in a suit with white hair trembled upon hearing these words, his cloudy eyes instantly revealing a myriad of emotions: fear, worry, confusion, regret, nostalgia, admiration... and a fleeting hint of pride.
Finally, his lips parted, and in a hoarse voice only he could hear, he uttered, "Xiao Han..."
He gripped his cane tightly, trying to get up to see more clearly. But he was stopped by an annoyed spectator behind him: "Sir, you're blocking the way."
The old man apologized repeatedly, but his eyes remained fixed on Wen Yuhan on the stage before he sat back down in his chair.
As the cello played its deep, slow narrative, the old man leaned his cane against the wall, then buried his face in his withered hands and broke down in tears…
His name was Liu Zhengju, and he was once the person Wen Yuhan respected most in his life. He was also the one who personally pushed him into the abyss, the instigator.
...
A note from the author:
It's almost over, sob sob sob
Chapter 90
Before this, Pei Shaocheng had never seen Wen Yuhan on stage as an actress. Even after the two finalized this contingency plan last night, Wen Yuhan simply lit one cigarette after another, silently reading the script, sitting there from late at night until dawn.
Looking at the expressions and movements on the stage, each one seemed to be possessed by the soul of the character, Pei Shaocheng couldn't help but feel a chill in his heart. His Xiao Han was truly born for the stage and for drama.
He wandered through the dusty, abandoned theater like a lonely ghost. Sometimes he would sit blankly on the stone steps, gazing into the distance; sometimes he would laugh wildly and write words in any place he could reach; sometimes he would follow a butterfly that only he could see to the dusty prop room and talk to himself in front of the mottled mirror.
His every smile and gesture captivated the hearts of everyone present. They were eager to immerse themselves in the world of this madman, yet they discovered that the strange sense of boundaries was not merely a distance created by the stage.
“I’ve picked out a spot for myself in Nanshan, and I’ve even thought of my epitaph.” He said, bending down to pick out a relatively long cigarette from the pile of discarded cigarette butts on the ground, lighting it in his mouth, and slowly exhaling smoke into the mirror. “Take it easy, there’s a great artist creating something here.” As he said this, he rested his elbows on the table, pressed his forehead against it, and chuckled to himself.
In the background, an excavator roared and tore a large hole in the theater wall, letting in blinding light that shone directly on him.
A deep, magnetic voice rang out from the other end of the mirror, cold and arrogant: "But you can't afford that place, not even a small urn."
He looked up at the sound and saw Andrew standing in front of him, looking down at him like a god. Below his open collar, there was a dark red kiss mark left from the night before.
“Who gave you this detestable personality, Andrew?” He chuckled to himself. “To have so many lovers at the same time doesn’t make any sense. This play needs to be changed.”
Andrew walked up behind him, bent down and wrapped his arms around his slender waist from behind, then rested his head on his shoulder and gave him a vicious bite: "Don't you know who gave it to you?" Andrew's voice was like a devil's whisper. He looked in the mirror with him and laughed, "Don't change it. You know this play won't sell at all. They're going to raz the theater to the ground. It's so desolate here that even a cockroach wouldn't want to crawl in. It might be a better place for your grave than Nanshan."
His body trembled with pain from the bite, his neck arched upwards, and his breathing became unsteady: "Don't come out at this time. I have an appointment to meet an investor tonight."
“That’s a fraud.” Andrew ignored his protests and continued to sniff the pale skin beneath his claws like a lion. “But he’s another scumbag who denies everything once he gets out of bed. You’re an artist, not someone to be trifled with.”
“Consider it a sacrifice for art.” As he spoke, a cigarette butt fell from his lips. “Besides, you have no right to tell me what to do. Works that never see the light of day are nothing but a stack of waste paper. Are you really willing to accept that?”
“I only appear when I’m supposed to. If you really want it to be born, you don’t have to stay here all the time.” Andrew said, suddenly grabbing Han’s neck and forcing him to look in the mirror. “Take a good look at yourself and see what you’ve become.”