Frivolous - Chapter 15

Chapter 15

In the sixth episode, Chen Ran sang “Deep Sea.” It was a song ill-suited for competition, and the band narrowly escaped elimination.

In the seventh episode, she sang “Mama.” She ranked first but was criticized by netizens as a “sob-story merchant.”

In the eighth episode the grand finale she sang “Long Memory of Wind and Flowers.” With a perfect balance of emotion and technique, she secured the runner-up position of Live Rock Sound.

On that stage, she cried, laughed, grieved, and obsessed but none of it had anything to do with Yu Lanzhou anymore.

After the competition ended, their manager, Ge Chao, gave them no time to rest.

Ode Band’s first twelve-city Livehouse tour sold out every ticket within a single minute.

Before stepping onto the stage for their very first headlining show, Chen Ran suddenly remembered the scent of the broken aromatherapy bottle in Yu Lanzhou’s office—thin and ethereal, like moonlight.

Aside from the necessary transitions, Chen Ran spoke very little during the set. When she sang “Deep Sea,” the memory of the cool touch of Yu Lanzhou’s fingers seemed to crawl up her hand as she gripped the microphone.

She sang the lyrics with a slight tremor: I have no certain future / Only a terrified waiting.

After finishing “Deep Sea,” Chen Ran became more talkative. She chatted with the audience about the weather in Beijing, the sea in Linxi, and the reputation of Hanglin as a “culinary desert.”

During the post-show signing session, a girl covered her face and said excitedly to Chen Ran, “You and Ping’an have to stay happy together!”

Chen Ran’s hand paused over the signature. Her eyes were empty, and she gave a faint smile without responding.

After participating in a second music variety show arranged by Fengjin, Ode Band’s first stadium performance was carried out with extreme success. It was rare for a young rock band to possess such massive drawing power.

In just a few short months, Chen Ran had covered a distance that took other bands years to travel. Yet she still felt the need to cynically ask herself: Isn’t this the fame and fortune you wanted?

Amidst Shi Muyang’s frequent complaints about why Fengjin wasn’t booking them commercial ads, Chen Ran felt something being rapidly cast in gold, while something else threatened to collapse overnight.

She was a discarded pawn of capital, and a discarded pawn of herself.

Like a machine, she searched for news of Yu Lanzhou every day, mechanically refreshing the social media pages of the Yu Lan Art Hall and searching the name “Yu Lanzhou.”

Nothing appeared like the old headlines: “After a Five-Year Absence, the Great Conductor Returns.”

Her days became dull and agonizing—more agonizing than her time in prison.

Su Ping’an watched as she withered away. She was even thinner than when they first met: at 172cm tall, she weighed less than 42kg.

When the physical trainer occasionally spoke harshly, saying, “Chen Ran, are you trying to die?” she wouldn’t argue. She would just smile.

Once, leading up to a concert, Chen Ran lost her voice. Ge Chao took her to every hospital in the city. She swallowed Chinese and Western medicines together, and miraculously, her voice recovered on the eve of the show.

After stepping off stage, she spat out a mouthful of fresh blood and was rushed to the hospital with a diagnosis of gastric bleeding.

Later, the makeup artist secretly complained several times that Chen Ran would scratch her own neck and arms until they bled, leaving marks like a neurotic. The artist had to suppress her disgust while applying concealer to hide them.

Su Ping’an saw it once. Chen Ran had reached her hand into the right sleeve of her stage outfit; a moment later, Su Ping’an saw through a gap that the white shirt sleeve underneath was stained red with blood.

Everyone around her knew that no matter where they performed—be it a music festival, a multi-act concert, or a formal venue Chen Ran would disappear for two or three days afterward.

But only Su Ping’an knew she was going back to Hanglin.

First class, red-eye flights, high-speed rails to remote cities—Chen Ran took them all. Then she would return with red, swollen eyes.

Su Ping’an knew she hadn’t managed to see Yu Lanzhou.

Chen Ran stood guard outside the Yu residence, seeing Yu Lanzhou’s car enter and exit several times. Even if the distance was a mere few inches, if Yu Lanzhou didn’t want to be seen, Chen Ran wouldn’t catch a single glimpse of her hair.

She didn’t use Yu Zhou to get information. It had nothing to do with Yu Zhou, and it wasn’t something that could be fixed by a few meetings.

Before going on stage this time, Chen Ran habitually searched the name again. Su Ping’an walked past her and whispered, “I have news of her. I’ll tell you later.”

Chen Ran kept thinking about it. She played several wrong notes during the show, and her high notes were unsteadily shaky.

The topic trended on Weibo: #Chen Ran Out of Tune#

Back at the hotel, Chen Ran knocked on Su Ping’an’s door. “What did you mean?”

“I just found out. A week from now, there’s a charity gala led by the Zhou Foundation. She might be there.”

Chen Ran’s heart skipped a beat.

“It’s only a possibility,” Su Ping’an reminded her. “And participants need an invitation from the host.”

“I understand. I’ll get one.” Chen Ran patted Su Ping’an’s arm. “Thank you.”

Su Ping’an flinched unnaturally and joked, “You owe me one.”

For the first time in months, Chen Ran gave a genuine, wide-toothed smile. “I owe you, I definitely owe you. I’ll pay you back.”

Later, Su Ping’an didn’t know how Chen Ran managed to get a ticket. She only knew that when she saw Chen Ran that night, the girl reeked of alcohol.

A drunken Chen Ran carefully pulled a velvet-wrapped Cartier “Starry Sky” bracelet from her coat. With bleary eyes, she smiled at Su Ping’an: “She wore this.”

She heard that Yu Lanzhou hadn’t even shown up at the gala.

The starting bid for the bracelet was 800,000 yuan. It quickly climbed to 1.5 million, then 2 million. Eventually, only Chen Ran and one other person were left bidding.

Chen Ran finally won it for 15.1 million yuan.

When Su Ping’an found out, she rushed to Chen Ran’s home, grabbed the lunatic by her collar, and demanded, “Where did you get 15 million? Huh?” Her voice was full of frustrated anger.

On the surface, Ode Band was famous, Chen Ran was famous, and they had played several stadium shows. But after venue rentals, sound, lighting, stage costs, Fengjin’s cut, and the other members’ shares, the money Chen Ran actually touched wasn’t as much as people imagined.

Money came easily and yet with great difficulty to Chen Ran, but it was certain that it left her very easily.

“I borrowed it from Ge Chao.” As she said this, Chen Ran was packing her things. She was moving from the rented luxury flat back to a small apartment.

“Ge Chao is that nice?” Su Ping’an didn’t believe she would lend Chen Ran that much money. She pressed her, “What did you promise her?”

Chen Ran laughed softly and didn’t answer.

Su Ping’an still remembered the radiant look on Chen Ran’s face when she first moved into the luxury flat. Back then, Chen Ran had held a beer and told her with sparkling eyes, “I’ve always dreamed of floor-to-ceiling windows where I can see the moon.”

She had rarely seen Chen Ran that happy.

She couldn’t help but curse: “Chen Ran, you’re really sick. Truly.” To love someone so unreachable.

Chen Ran put down her clothes and leaned against the wall, looking at Su Ping’an.

Actually, there was one thing Su Ping’an didn’t know. The reason the price of the bracelet was driven so high was that the person bidding against her until the very end was Zhou Jingting.

While Zhou Jingting bid with perfect composure, Chen Ran was mentally calculating everything she could possibly give up. When Zhou Jingting called 15 million, Chen Ran, quite undignifiedly, bid just 100,000 more.

Just as Zhou Jingting was about to raise her paddle again, she received a call. She glanced at Chen Ran, smiled, gave up the bid, and stood to leave.

Chen Ran would always remember the way Zhou Jingting looked at her—like one amuses a pet cat.

When the hammer fell, Chen Ran’s savings were reduced to ashes. Or rather, reduced to a single bracelet.

That was when she realized once again the distance between her and Yu Lanzhou was more vast than heaven and earth realized through the person of Zhou Jingting.

Zhou Jingting was a refined beauty, like a classical poem. She wore half-rimmed silver glasses and exuded high intelligence. Her entire being was infused with the composure and nobility that only immense wealth could cultivate. Like Yu Lanzhou, her eyes held a hint of impatience for the world, though hers was more restrained.

Chen Ran began to regret. She had long begun to regret.

What was all that about making Yu Lanzhou “see the emotions clearly”? What was all that about “no rush”?

She, Chen Ran, simply wasn’t worthy. Not worthy.

If she had abandoned all dignity back then if she had given up trying to stand beside Yu Lanzhou as an equal… If she hadn’t wanted to walk a “clean” path… If she had accepted even Yu Lanzhou’s pity, her charity, any emotion at all… Would she feel better now?

She stopped standing guard at the Yu residence. She was in debt and had to pay it back before her reputation collapsed.

Ge Chao handed her a third variety show—a relatively obscure travel show. While the rest of the band rested, Chen Ran was a guest for two episodes.

She was young and lacked seniority, so she smiled for all the other guests and took on the bulk of the physical labor. One day, Chen Ran spent the whole evening in the kitchen preparing dinner for over a dozen people.

During the meal, an older actor who had won major awards, Lei Xinyi, started hooting: “Such a beautiful view, but no music makes it a bit dry. Chen Ran, aren’t you a singer? A rock singer? Why don’t you howl a few lines to liven things up for everyone?”

Chen Ran had just come out of the smoky kitchen, her eyes tearing up from the fumes. She waved her hands. “Teacher Lei, rock isn’t really suitable for this setting. Next time, when there’s a bonfire or alcohol, I’ll sing for you.”

“What’s wrong with this setting? Or are you saying we’re not worthy of hearing you sing?” Lei Xinyi stood up, pointing at her. “Come on, sing a couple of lines.”

Other guests tried to smooth things over: “No need, we’ll just play some music on the speakers. Chen Ran’s been busy all day.”

Lei Xinyi crossed his arms, his face darkening. Seeing the tears in Chen Ran’s eyes, he said, “Why make it look like I’m bullying her? It’s just a couple of lines. Fine, forget it! If you won’t sing, don’t sing!”

The atmosphere was tense. Chen Ran stepped forward and apologized. “No, no, it’s fine. I’ll sing one.” She turned to get the microphone.

Lei Xinyi turned his head away, his expression filled with contempt: “Don’t bother. To be honest, Chen Ran, even if you stripped naked right now, no one would look at you.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Chen Ran’s hand froze. The faces of everyone who heard it froze as well.

Embarrassment? Was it embarrassment? It felt more like humiliation.

All this time, Chen Ran had deliberately ignored her situation. As if by not thinking about it, it wouldn’t be humiliating anymore. But now, her precarious position in the entertainment industry had been torn open by words, forcing her to face it.

Like a dog. Like a clown.

Chen Ran turned her body away, facing away from the cameras. When she turned back thirty seconds later, the tears in her eyes were gone.

That night, she looked up at the sky over the grasslands, but she could no longer see the moon.

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