Chapter 7: Poverty-Stricken
Xi Leng repeatedly assured Luo Jiayan that he was fine, just tired from work and wanting some quiet time alone.
He was indeed very tired.
Luo Jiayan’s worries of many days finally settled, the biggest issue resolved, and the small incident with the arrow fletching also faded away.
Xi Leng kept his right hand in his trouser pocket, appearing as if nothing had happened, seeing Luo Jiayan off to his car and waving goodbye with his left hand.
But a gust of night wind blew away the feigned calmness. Xi Leng took out his right hand, looked at it, furrowed his brows, and hurriedly went to a nearby convenience store.
Xi Leng moved through the aisles with a clear purpose, only picking up a box of band-aids and a bottle of iodine, not even glancing at the snacks and drinks.
Having obtained what he needed, he immediately went to the checkout.
The person by the freezer froze for a few seconds, watching him turn and walk away, having narrowly avoided a fan encounter.
He hadn’t expected that after leaving the archery range and coming to the convenience store to buy a bottle of water, he would run into this male fan again.
Min Zhi quietly followed him.
The reticent young man was talking to the cashier. It was the first time Min Zhi had heard him speak so many words at once. His pronunciation was clear, and his voice was crisp and pleasant.
He asked for a pack of Marlboro Black Ice Blast.
It was also the brand he smoked most often, his favorite flavor in the summer heat.
Min Zhi, intrigued, casually picked up an item from the shelf as cover, continuing to observe the activity at the checkout counter.
The cashier enthusiastically promoted: “Handsome, would you like a box of mints? Endorsed by Min Zhi, a mixed pack of three flavors with a bonus photocard. They’re sold out at all the nearby stores, we’re the only ones who still have some.”
Mint and candy were both things Xi Leng liked, so he replied: “Sure.”
He took out his phone, ready to pay, but the number the cashier quoted made him doubt his ears.
Xi Leng paused, his lips pressing together slightly: “…These mints cost 45?”
He could buy two packs of cigarettes for that price.
The cashier didn’t hear him clearly and only asked him what he said after scanning the mints. Xi Leng, hiding his injured hand, could only use his left hand to push aside the iodine and band-aids he hadn’t paid for yet: “I don’t need these anymore.”
His left hand wasn’t his dominant hand, and he almost failed to stop them from being scanned.
The wound on his palm wasn’t serious, he could treat it at home. Buying a whole new bottle of iodine and a whole box of band-aids just for this one use wasn’t cost-effective.
He was already poverty-stricken, and now unexpectedly attacked by the mint candy assassin, he had to be even more frugal.
He declined the plastic bag, stuffing the mint candy assassin into his pocket, out of sight, out of mind, then pushed the door open and walked out with a complicated expression.
To catch the bus, he had to cross an intersection. Even at nine o’clock at night, the traffic was still heavy and bustling.
He was only two or three steps away from the crosswalk, but he stood motionless for a long time, seemingly merging with the streetlight beside him.
The car accident from his past life was still vivid in his mind. The strong wind from speeding vehicles whistling past him, the deafening noise in his ears, the brightly lit bustling street seeming to spin wildly, he couldn’t focus, his vision blurring.
After dying once, he had become even more attached to life. Whether it was muddling through or being poverty-stricken, he was unwilling to let go.
So, he couldn’t take the next step, his feet as if glued to the sidewalk, only constantly adjusting his breathing, trying to calm himself, resisting the frantic flashbacks and auditory hallucinations.
He opened the mints and tried two, they were sweet.
Worthy of being candy worth half a hundred-yuan bill.
The photocard shimmered gold. He held it up to the streetlight, seemingly admiring the idol’s handsome photo, but thinking: Can I resell this? So I don’t lose out too much.
Xi Leng thought aimlessly about trivial matters, trying to distract himself, then opened the cigarette pack, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it in the night breeze.
The scarlet flame flickered by his lips, making his skin appear even more bloodless. He narrowed his eyes, held the cigarette between two fingers, and exhaled a satisfying puff of smoke.
The scarf around his neck was caught by the wind, a soft blue corner fluttering upwards.
Five minutes later, he crushed the cooling mint beads in his mouth, feeling refreshed, but once again had to face the road alone.
Thinking of delaying a bit longer, he turned to find a trash can to throw away the cigarette butt, when he saw a low-key black luxury car driving towards him along the path he had just taken, slowing down, and stopping right beside him.
He stubbed out the cigarette butt on the trash can, his eyes involuntarily falling on the strange car.
The dark car window slowly rolled down. He first saw the dark gray denim sleeve, exquisitely faded. Then, the driver leaned over, revealing a handsome and chiseled face, turning in the right direction, the shimmering earring on his left ear appearing again like a hallucination.
Min Zhi’s lips parted slightly: “Get in.”
Xi Leng froze imperceptibly, completely unprepared, completely unexpected.
…What should be the reaction to being invited into a car by your idol?
Unfortunately, the fake fan Xi Leng, who was certain he would never meet Min Zhi a third time in this life, had no such knowledge reserves in his brain.
Even if he could take out his phone and search on the spot, he probably wouldn’t find such a bizarre event…
The walking “powder keg” of the entertainment industry had appeared out of nowhere, inviting him into his car. It couldn’t be that he was short of fuel and just happened to find him pleasing to the eye.
Min Zhi honked the horn.
Xi Leng understood and recalled the unexpected three thousand yuan—come to think of it, the two-hundred-yuan delivery fee was also thanks to Min Zhi.
In a way, Min Zhi was his god of fortune.
Xi Leng quickly changed his expression. Remembering that he had just smoked, he pulled at his collar to fan himself twice before opening the door and getting into the car.
Unexpectedly, a faint, fresh, and sweet scent of tar mixed with citrus and mint lingered in the car, a familiar tobacco aftertaste, yet not from him.
Min Zhi’s window was half-open, the breeze from the moving car diluting the already faint smell of smoke.
The Weibo account named “X.L.” had last been online two months ago. Whether it was Zhu Minglang’s private messages or comments, there was no response.
The occasional paintings posted on the Weibo were mostly hand-drawn oil paintings. The blogger was like a primitive person detached from the times, no captions engaging with fans, no internet slang or emojis, and no contact information for commissions.
Sensing a hint of aloofness, Min Zhi asked the person beside him: “Are you a painter?”
Xi Leng shook his head slightly: “Just someone who paints, not a true artist.”
Even the best wine needs advertising. A brilliant musical genius needs a stage to shine. This person who painted didn’t hold exhibitions or manage their Weibo, in this era, it was hard to imagine them making a name for themselves.
Min Zhi casually asked another question: “Are you short of money, so you’re working part-time at the archery range?”
So, this person had already noticed him at the archery range. Xi Leng understood and replied: “Yes.”
A simple “yes.”
Min Zhi was almost driven to laughter by his terseness. Then he thought, if this fan was overly excited and started screaming and taking selfies in his car, that would be a headache. In comparison, being cold and quiet was acceptable.
“Little artist, let me see your painting hand.”
Since he said he wasn’t a painter, Min Zhi added a prefix.
Xi Leng, sitting in the passenger seat, naturally extended his left hand.
“Are you left-handed?”
One lie needs a hundred lies to cover it up.
Xi Leng decisively switched to his right hand.
Min Zhi wasn’t in a hurry. While waiting at a red light, he glanced over and saw a conspicuous scrape on his delicate palm, likely from the fletching of an arrow. He had noticed the sharpness of the fletchings the first time he visited the archery range.
“You don’t take good care of your painting hand?”
Xi Leng remained silent, not responding. After several interactions, Min Zhi had confirmed his taciturn nature and didn’t need his reply. Quiet was good.
The red light was long, enough for Min Zhi to take a plastic bag from the glove compartment and toss it to the passenger seat.
Xi Leng was slightly taken aback.
Inside the bag were the iodine and band-aids he had abandoned.
This time, he finally spoke, still concise: “Thank you.”
Remembering his fan persona, Xi Leng turned his head and said sincerely: “Thank you, Min-shen.”
Politeness didn’t exist in Min Zhi’s world, and he didn’t reply with “you’re welcome.”
But his peripheral vision drifted to the right, seeing the aloof face tinged with admiring smiles, like spring wind melting snow, precious warmth bursting forth from behind layers of clouds. The more he looked, the more pleasing it was, the corners of his lips curving upwards.
Xi Leng added a bit more fan-like excitement to his expression and asked tentatively, with a hint of anticipation: “Min-shen, are you taking me home?”
Before Min Zhi could answer, Xi Leng first gave his address, ending with “Thank you, Min-shen.”
“…”
Min Zhi rarely had such moments of speechlessness. With mixed feelings, he silently continued driving. Having finally encountered the little male fan again, he had some things to discuss.
He had bought the autograph on Xianyu with a cash meet-up last time, so he couldn’t see the seller’s name, phone number, or address. He couldn’t just privately message the person on Xianyu and ask, “Do you want to join me on a reality show because reselling my autograph caught my attention,” could he?
If he had Zhu Minglang handle it, he would find out that the one reselling the autograph was indeed this artist male fan. And even after that, he still planned to invite him on the show? Was he bewitched?? Explaining to that idiot Zhu Minglang would be such a hassle.
Thinking of this, Min Zhi couldn’t help but frown, feeling extremely irritated. Just then, Zhu Minglang’s call came in. His phone was playing the navigation, and there was nothing secretive about a call with his manager, so he put it on speakerphone.
“Boss!” Zhu Minglang’s voice echoed in the enclosed space, clearly reaching both of their ears. “I’m baffled, have I been blocked or something? Your male fan isn’t replying to my messages at all, or do I just look like a scammer?”
Xi Leng frowned, discreetly taking note.
“…Hey, can you contact him?” Zhu Minglang continued speculating. “Didn’t you see him in person at the airport? You said you gave him an autograph, you only gave him an autograph, you didn’t do anything else, right?”
Zhu Minglang was highly skeptical of Min Zhi’s alleged fan-serving behavior. To refuse such a good opportunity to chase stars on the company’s dime, he could only think that his boss must have scared the person away.
The more Xi Leng listened, the more things seemed wrong. Seeing the scenery outside the window changing to his neighborhood, his hand involuntarily reached for the door handle, ready to leave at any moment.
Min Zhi was genuinely amused by Zhu Minglang’s nonsense this time, retorting without any regard for the other person in the car: “Yeah, I was overcome by lust, harassed, threatened, and stalked him, happy now?”
Xi Leng and the person on the phone fell silent simultaneously.
Min Zhi hung up irritably, with enough force to suggest venting, and soon after, the car made a sharp turn, stopping with a stylish flick of its tail at the entrance of the old residential complex.
Xi Leng gently pulled the door handle, encountering obvious resistance.
Min Zhi let go of the steering wheel, turning his head, his lips parting and closing, the metal stud moving on his tongue particularly conspicuous.
“Which building, I’ll walk you up.”
