A Gong-Perspective Collection of Short Stories - Chapter 2

Among the bands at the entrance of Nanping Alley, ONE—while perhaps not the most famous—always managed to garner a few extra words of conversation whenever mentioned.

Not only was the lead singer handsome and a great vocalist, but the band also featured a bassist whose child was already two years old, a drummer who got into fights every other day, and a rotating door of guitarists that changed time and again, making the whole setup sound like a makeshift stage crew.

Still, that wasn’t exactly the reason why an ‘underage-looking’ kid would show up at their door one day.

Charles’s bulging cheeks, stuffed with grilled skewers, froze mid-chew. The blonde-braided drummer held his skewer in disbelief as his gaze shifted from the bar owner to the kid: “This brat is the guitarist you found?”

He was referring to You Xingge, who looked excessively young.

The band’s performance had already ended. The bar’s back door opened out onto a street where a food stall at the intersection was billowing smoke. The owner, wearing sleeve protectors, was busy running back and forth while the guys were happily feasting. At that moment, the bar owner brought over a kid carrying an instrument bag, claiming this was their new guitarist.

Charles rubbed his eyes.

The kid was good-looking with black curls, but his age seemed way too young.

He looked at the curly-haired boy behind the owner with some hesitation, only for the other party to actually flash him a brilliant smile.

Oh my god, it was practically blinding.

Charles clutched his chest with the hand still holding the skewer.

“Of course,” the bar owner said. Bright and moving, like a Gypsy girl from a lyrical music video, she spoke in a coquettish voice and gave You Xingge’s shoulder a reassuring pat.

“I’ve tested him for you, I’m super thoughtful,” she said, pushing You Xingge down onto a seat at the food stall’s table. The red plastic stools were truly uncomfortable. “Trust Little You. We happen to be short-staffed, and you have to realize, it wasn’t easy for your boss to find a new guitarist for you guys.”

She winked at You Xingge, who was looking up at her.

It was only then that Cheng Jiye, having just grabbed two bottles of beer from the stall, heard what they were talking about. First, his eyes met the slightly choked-up gaze of his drummer, and then he met the smiling face of the owner, Du Qiao.

Her blatant look was full of hints. After all, following the departure of one guitarist after another, the band had gained a reputation for having bad feng shui. The recruitment notice had been posted for a month with no takers, they absolutely could not let this one escape.

Cheng Jiye understood. He sized up You Xingge, his gaze unable to help but linger on the boy’s face a bit longer: “Are you an adult?”

He had actually wanted to ask this earlier; he had spotted the kid while on stage and noticed how young he looked, wondering how he’d managed to sneak into the bar.

Being stared at, You Xingge revealed a smile: “I am. I graduated from university this year.”

The young man carrying the instrument bag smiled with a warmth that radiated a clean freshness even through his white T-shirt.

No wonder he was so unguarded.

Cheng Jiye placed the beers on the small square table.

The blonde-braided drummer scratched his head: “Fine, as long as you’re an adult. Go to rehearsal tomorrow, and I’ll see what your level is like.”

If his level was no good—worse than the worst of the three guitarists they’d already cycled through—then even if Sister Du Qiao had tested him, it wouldn’t work, he muttered to himself.

Mhm, being good-looking isn’t enough either.

The curly-haired youth thought for a moment and spoke confidently: “No need. I can play right now.”

How is this kid so direct? Li Gu, sitting on the other side of the table, also sized him up.

Cheng Jiye met You Xingge’s serious face. Those deep chestnut eyes held a sincerity, as if this were something very important to him. Cheng Jiye was momentarily stunned but still spoke: “Wait until tomorrow. It’s too late today.”

It was already nearly midnight.

He reached out his hand: “I’m Cheng Jiye, the lead singer.”

Alright, Qidian male lead.

You Xingge shook his hand, a smile surfacing in his deep chestnut eyes as if flecks of starlight had been kneaded into them.

Cheng Jiye couldn’t help but look at him a bit longer.

“Charles.” The casual, blonde, mixed-race drummer flashed a grin.

“Li Gu.” The bassist with a two-year-old daughter looked like an unkempt uncle with a scruffy beard, but he nodded with unexpected steadiness.

“And there’s the keyboardist, keyboardist, keyboardist,” Charles chimed in. “Our Teacher Chen Qing is busy tonight and just left. At tomorrow’s rehearsal, we’ll introduce you.”

You Xingge’s gaze lingered for a moment on the empty seat.

The midnight barbecue stall was filled with the atmosphere of street life. The spot where they sat was secluded, and the bar across the alleyway only showed a few flickers of light and shadow.

Then, You Xingge seemed to remember something: “That’s a coincidence. When I came out with Sister Qiao just now, I think I saw him.”

“I’m You Xingge,” he added.

Quite a personality in that name, Cheng Jiye thought, his hand pausing as he reached for a skewer.

The seductive owner had left at some unknown point. Now, the three band members plus the newcomer You Xingge were huddled around the small square table. The smoke from the stall’s grill wafted upward, cutting through the midnight chill. The blonde drummer was incredibly curious about You Xingge and kept peppering him with questions.

After all, based on You Xingge’s demeanor and the hand signals Du Qiao had given him before leaving, Charles could more or less guess that You Xingge’s level must be quite good. Since he was about to become the new member of the band anyway, there was no harm in asking more.

Fortunately, the curly-haired youth seemed to have a good temper. No matter what was asked, he didn’t get angry. Eventually, Charles became delighted, slapping You Xingge heavily on the shoulder and saying: “You kid, why do you tell everything? Keep a tighter lip. The outside world isn’t like us. We’re all good people, but the outside is different.”

You Xingge curled his lips into a smile.

Charles was truly drunk, his face was flushed. Seeking agreement, he shifted his gaze to Cheng Jiye. Cheng Jiye looked a bit lazy at this moment, his long legs stretched out from the red plastic stool with nowhere to put them.

You Xingge looked at him and realized that this Qidian male lead was quite different off-stage compared to on-stage.

On stage, he was so arrogant he made people want to drag him to bed; now, he seemed to be drifting away from his surroundings, radiating a sense of total indifference.

His heart stirred, but on the surface, his eyes simply curved.

When Cheng Jiye nonchalantly met his gaze, he could only see the smile of the youth in the white T-shirt and jeans, rendered by the night.

Truly a student fresh out of society.

He shifted his legs into a more comfortable position before finally answering Charles.

It was very late by now. Li Gu said if he didn’t leave, his ‘better half’ would pull him by the ears, so Charles laughed and let him go.

Not far away, the barbecue stall owner also seemed ready to pack up. Cheng Jiye suddenly looked up and asked You Xingge, who was struggling through a mountain of skewers with Charles: “Have you heard of ONE before?”

How could he not have heard of them? You Xingge nodded: “I have.”

“Then what’s your reason for coming to ONE?” Cheng Jiye asked. His narrow, deep eyes squinted just as they had on stage. His features leaned toward the cold and sharp side; when he asked this, he looked a bit serious.

Their hospitable drummer, who was busy stacking lamb chops onto You Xingge’s plate, looked over:

“Aiyya, it’s late. Better to eat first and ask tomorrow.”

You Xingge thought for a moment and said: “I was so poor I didn’t have money to eat, and I happened to see the recruitment notice.”

Although he had swapped the order, what he said was nonetheless the truth.

Charles choked beside him, though it was unclear if it was from You Xingge’s words or the meat on his skewer. The scruffy bassist took the opportunity to snatch a skewer from both his and Cheng Jiye’s hands while they weren’t looking.

Cheng Jiye raised an eyebrow at his words: “Being in a band doesn’t make money these days.”

Sometimes you even lose money.

“I know,” You Xingge said. “I’m joking.”

He continued slowly: “It’s because I just arrived in Qicheng. The job I went to check out turned out to be a pyramid scheme. I had no choice, I’d already promised myself I’d set down roots in the land of Qicheng.”

He shrugged.

Too many people came to Qicheng for development these days. It was a mixed bag, especially in the South City District, which was a chaotic mess filled with all sorts of people and pyramid schemes.

Hearing this, a smile brewed in Cheng Jiye’s deep eyes, like a ripple of water in the night, though it wasn’t very obvious.

This kid actually has some awareness; at least he didn’t get scammed into a pyramid scheme.

By the end of the meal, Charles was hammered. Finally, the owner came down from upstairs, saying it wasn’t safe for him to go home like that and telling him to just crash in the lounge above the bar.

The night wind fluttered. The beautiful owner had just led him away; You Xingge watched her back as she gracefully took him upstairs, looking somewhat lost in thought.

Cheng Jiye raised an eyebrow, thinking to himself, Is Du Qiao really that charming?

He’s staring without blinking.

Unexpectedly, the guy beside him spoke: “Did Sister Qiao use to train? Her movements are so agile.”

You Xingge wore a pensive expression.

Cheng Jiye paused: “She’s learned a few things.”

He and Du Qiao had been friends for many years; it wasn’t strange for him to know this.

As for You Xingge, he had already started calling her “Sister Qiao” so quickly.

He’s quite a self-familiar fellow.

Cheng Jiye reached a conclusion in his heart. He then scanned You Xingge—the man hadn’t brought anything except an instrument bag, appearing so clean and efficient it was as if he’d been eyeing this place for a long time. He spoke: “Where do you live? I’ll take you back.”

It was already past 1:00 AM. A chilly draft was creeping into people’s collars.

If he didn’t take You Xingge, it would be hard to even find a taxi at this hour.

You Xingge paused: “It’s a bit far from here.”

“It’s fine.” Cheng Jiye took his keys from his pocket. The motorcycle parked at the bar’s side door was clearly his destination.

You Xingge raised an eyebrow, recognizing it as a Harley from this era. This type of heavy motorcycle was often associated with being wild and untamed. The book mentioned that Cheng Jiye could ride, and he rode very well.

“Get on.” Cheng Jiye straddled the bike and tossed a helmet to You Xingge. His movements were efficient, his black hair was blown back a bit by the wind, revealing his well-defined profile.

“Cool, like a TV drama,” You Xingge commented. Without any hesitation, he straddled the seat behind Cheng Jiye and put on the helmet.

” I’ll take that as a compliment.”

The two of them went back and forth.

“But,” Cheng Jiye heard the person behind him speak, his voice carrying a faint, blurry hint of laughter in the wind: “Do I hold your waist or your shoulders?”

Is there a difference?

Cheng Jiye said: “Whatever you want.”

So, the man unhesitatingly reached out and held his waist.

Tsk.

Cheng Jiye: “I suggest you hold on tight.”

In truth, the Harley’s performance was very stable; it would never throw someone off. Amidst a gust of wind brought by the powerful roar of the engine, the motorcycle carried the two of them out of the bar’s back street.

The cold wind scraped the streets and blew against the two men. Only then did Cheng Jiye remember to ask: “By the way, where do you live?”

The wind was too loud, the night wind of the city at midnight scraped against You Xingge’s face like a knife. He narrowed his eyes comfortably, not quite hearing what Cheng Jiye said: “What?”

“If you don’t know, I’ll take you for a lap around Qicheng first, alright?” Cheng Jiye said with a calm expression, casting his eyes down.

“That won’t be necessary,” You Xingge finally realized what Cheng Jiye was saying, his eyes curving. “West City Hotel.”

Cheng Jiye remembered something: “You’re still staying in a hotel?”

You Xingge: “I just got to Qicheng three days ago, and I only found out yesterday I was scammed, eh.”

His voice sounded a bit depressed.

Cheng Jiye didn’t say anything.

In the biting night wind, he took You Xingge through a prosperous half-circle along the Qicheng River. The water lights reflected on the road, and that familiar, bone-scraping sense of indulgence surged from his core again.

Cheng Jiye liked everything that brought excitement—including rock music, motorcycles, and alcohol.

He could feel the pressure on his waist; the other party was looking around a bit. He could even feel the stray strands of hair blown by the wind; it was itchy. You Xingge seemed a bit excited.

First time on a motorcycle?

He inconspicuously prepared to slow down a bit, but the person behind him noticed something, a voice full of laughter coming through: “Go faster.”

Cheng Jiye raised an eyebrow and smiled.

If nothing else, You Xingge was quite to his taste.

The Harley was as reliable as its advertisements claimed. After accelerating, the wind seemed to peel away from them instantly. All that could be felt was the piercing sound and the cold, carrying a primitive, wild aura that made the blood shiver.

You Xingge liked this feeling just as much.

It felt like being in an open field with the wind blowing—no one around, only the wheat grass rustling.

So—as the piercing wind passed through him, You Xingge tightened his grip on the man’s waist, feeling his heart boil for a moment, whether due to a physiological or psychological reaction. His eyes held a bright smile in the night.

Cheng Jiye.

He silently repeated the name in his heart.

I hope you can make my life in this book more interesting.

He revealed a smile. Even in the pitch-black night, those deep chestnut eyes were very bright, like the shimmering ripples on a river of chocolate.

Soon, after a large tail-flick, the motorcycle turned into the street and came to a steady stop in front of the hotel.

You Xingge took off his helmet. Just as he was about to get off, Cheng Jiye called out to him: “There’s a room next to mine. Do you want to rent it?”

“I haven’t even become your guitarist yet,” You Xingge said.

“It’s only a matter of time.” Cheng Jiye believed he wouldn’t be wrong; some people were born with the kind of skin that was suited for music.

“Sure, take me to see the room tomorrow while you’re at it.” You Xingge got off the bike and answered very straightforwardly.

Cheng Jiye raised an eyebrow: “Aren’t you afraid I’ll scam you?”

“I trust you.”

The credit of a Qidian male lead was still reliable.

Hearing him be so blunt, Cheng Jiye sized him up twice as he took the helmet.

He really isn’t afraid of being scammed.

“Anyway,” You Xingge’s eyes were filled with a bright, sincere smile, and he didn’t forget to turn back and wave as he walked away, “Thanks, bro.”

the young man’s curly hair was blown a bit by the wind, looking impossibly beautiful.

Bro—

Cheng Jiye chewed on the meaning of the word and let out a bit of a laugh.

He really is self-familiar.

Only when he saw You Xingge’s figure gradually be swallowed by the hotel did Cheng Jiye snap back to his senses and ride away.

Behind him, You Xingge had already gone to the second floor of the hotel. He could see Cheng Jiye leaving through the stairwell window; he quietly lowered his eyes.

The gaps in the hotel’s lattice were covered in a layer of dust, like the color of a smoggy sky.

When he had opened the book “Lecheng,” the sky had looked just like that.

Back then, he hadn’t expected he would travel into the book. When he read it, he had even silently complained that the story was such a cliché—just a story about a man pursuing his musical path in an era when records still had a lingering glow, from a destitute bar singer to a well-known national singer. The time span was very long, almost to the point of being a mundane account.

What had allowed him to keep reading was the character of the male lead, Cheng Jiye—who was not cliché at all.

You Xingge had always admired people with sharp edges and abundant talent.

Now that he had met the real person, there was one more thing.

He wanted to sleep with him.

Unfortunately, the character of You Xingge was just an insignificant supporting character in this story, taking up very little space. He was the male lead’s friend, brother, and follower during the band period—any of those descriptions fit—and in the end, he was destined to part ways with Cheng Jiye.

After the band disbanded, You Xingge had a falling out with Cheng Jiye, gave up music, and turned away to vanish into the mundane sea of people. According to the book, from that point on, he never contacted Cheng Jiye again for the rest of his life.

His last appearance was at the very end when he passed by a brilliant screen showing Cheng Jiye winning some international award. By then, Cheng Jiye in his thirties looked much steadier and more dazzling than back then, while You Xingge—who had also been a band member—was lost in the crowd. He only stopped for a moment under the screen before clutching his groceries and plunging into the sea of people.

Just as he had passed through that period of Cheng Jiye’s obscurity, his departure was also silent and unnoticed.

A few willow catkins drifted in from the night, settling on the last step of the stairwell. The room service person leading the way with the key urged him on a bit impatiently. You Xingge didn’t mind; he just quickened his pace.

It was a very ordinary night.