Frivolous - Chapter 30

Chapter 30

The sky had already turned overcast. A flash of white light streaked across the window, and a few seconds after the initial shock, Yu Lanzhou heard the distant thunder rolling in like crashing waves.

Whether it was calling her “Mom” or dreaming of her mother right after they had been intimate, neither was something Yu Lanzhou wanted to hear.

Then, Chen Ran made a sound as if she were about to cry. Yu Lanzhou could hear a heavy sense of grievance in her tone.

Yu Lanzhou curled her index finger and lightly brushed the sleeping girl’s nose. She slid off the bed, crouched half-way in front of her, and whispered with a trembling voice, “Am I not good to you? Why are you still complaining to your mother?”

When Chen Ran woke up at five in the morning to look for Yu Lanzhou, the door to the master bedroom was wide open. No one was there. She knew Yu Lanzhou had left again.

She returned to her bedroom and lay back down; the scent of Yu Lanzhou seemed to linger beside her. Chen Ran buried her head in the quilt and breathed it in, a happy fish intent on drowning itself in this feeling.

She reminisced about being treated with such tenderness. All the past pain was worth it. Life was worth it. The flowers, the seawater—it was all worth it.

At eight o’clock, Xu Wan sent a message: Teacher Yu wants you to return to Beijing today.

Chen Ran replied: Okay.

Though she was happy, even she couldn’t imagine what else was left in her head these days. She couldn’t let herself be too happy all at once, so she carefully hoarded these precious emotions, though she secretly wanted to show them off.

She logged into her “finsta” account, SuperLove3.1415926, and posted two high-intensity Weibo updates:

Super happy. I love her so much.

She also changed her Moments background to a blurred photo of Yu Lanzhou’s back, staring at it repeatedly. Finally, she logged onto her official Weibo account for “business,” posting landscape photos of her recent life, the song she was currently listening to, and a selfie.

After some thought, she picked one landscape photo from the set of nine and sent it to Yu Lanzhou, followed by a selfie from a different angle than the one on Weibo, and then a link to her playlist. She hoped Yu Lanzhou would review her updates like an emperor reviewing official memorials.

Chen Ran’s heart stayed warm for a while, then cooled over the next two days as Yu Lanzhou failed to reply. She dreamed of Yu Lanzhou driving her away with an icy expression. Upon waking, she continued to send various messages every day, receiving not a single response.

By the evening of the third day, she suddenly panicked. She pulled up the photo of the contract and found Clause 6: A cold war lasting more than 72 hours results in an automatic termination of the contract.

This… shouldn’t count as a cold war, right?

She quickly messaged Xu Wan and received a reply: Miss Chen, a cold war implies both parties. It’s impossible for Teacher Yu to reply to you all the time.

Chen Ran relaxed, sinking back into the rehearsal room. A moment later, Xu Wan messaged again: Miss Chen, please change your Moments background.

Chen: Oh, okay. Xu: Is it this obvious on other platforms? Chen: I’m sorry, I’ll check right now and delete anything problematic. Xu: Also… can you change your hair color? Otherwise, it’s too distinct… (Xu Wan had just intercepted a paparazzi story about Chen Ran entering and leaving Chen Xi’s villa).

Chen Ran hesitated. She remembered Yu Lanzhou’s fingers tangling in her hair the other night, twining it round and round. The other woman seemed to… somewhat like this color.

Xu: It’s okay if you don’t change it. Chen: I’ll be more careful from now on. Xu: Understood, thank you. Chen: Don’t say that.

Xu Wan replied with a “bowed hands” emoji, ending the conversation.

Chen Ran’s extra lessons with Chen Xi were proving very effective. She heard that Yu Lanzhou had cashed in a personal favor for these lessons, which was much harder to obtain than simply paying a high fee per class. Even if she were a piece of rotten wood, she had to carve herself into a flower. Especially with her first comeback performance approaching, she couldn’t afford to embarrass herself.

Luckily, Chen Xi also seemed to value Chen Ran’s talent. During her guidance, there was a hint of admiration in her eyes. Chen Ran felt that through her hard practice, both her vocals and guitar skills had improved significantly.

However, Chen Xi acted a bit strangely toward her. While correcting her vocal placement, she would use her hands. When Chen Ran instinctively flinched away, Chen Xi would grab her collar to fix her back in place. With the scent of perfume on her hands, she’d say, “Don’t move.”

Chen Ran blinked. Chen Xi asked, “Why is your face red?” “The collar… I can’t breathe.” “Really?” “Really.” Chen Xi let her go.

Finally, two days before the performance, Chen Ran heard from Xu Wan that Yu Lanzhou was still in Hanglin. Her heart began to stir again. Xifeng was only an hour’s drive from Hanglin.

I’ve practiced the guitar so well, I can make sparks fly. Do you want to come see my stage? My vocals have improved too. It’s okay if you don’t come. Teacher Yu, I love you.

Every time Chen Ran sent the words “I love you,” she felt a warm current flow through her. She didn’t find the words embarrassing. Being able to say them to Yu Lanzhou was a part of her happiness. As expected, she received no reply.

Meanwhile, Yu Lanzhou received a message from Chen Xi: This person you sent over is actually quite cute. Yu Lanzhou, knowing Chen Xi well, replied: Are you hitting on her? Chen Xi: If she didn’t have a little self-control, how could she stay by your side? Yu: So, how is she cute? Chen Xi: She blushes.

Ever since Chen Ran officially announced her participation in the Xifeng Music Festival, her fans, the “Little Sparks,” had become hyper-active. That night, when Chen Ran took the stage, she once again saw countless banners raised for her and countless people who had come just for her.

The festival also featured the band Ling Fu, whom she’d had friction with before. This time, Chen Ran’s fans occupied the entire front row. Chen Ran knew this required both a lot of money and a lot of love.

And she had received it. Facing so many vivid, young faces looking at her with sincere and passionate gazes, all she could do was give her absolute best. Her dark eyes shifted with the music sometimes innocent, sometimes seductive. She sang with her whole soul. During the final bows, a single teardrop like a dewdrop spilled from her eye.

The 40-minute set was rowdy and passionate. But it wasn’t entirely because of Chen Ran.

Qu Bai had appeared in the audience. She had arrived in a hurry and listened to about 20 minutes of Chen Ran’s set from the VIP section. Qu Bai had previously praised several bands in interviews, specifically highlighting Song of Praise. She had called Chen Ran a sincere kid—determined, hardworking, and possessing the aura of a diva.

On stage, Chen Ran saw Qu Bai. She gave her a quick smile before looking away. Xiao Jiahe, standing below the stage, heard the front-row audience whispering: “Who knew her face would be this shocking on the big screen? Yu Lan should really let her act in movies.” “Every smile and frown… imagine how moving she’d be in a drama.”

Others said: “Why does it feel like… she’s suddenly in full bloom? She wasn’t this vivid before.” “Me too…” “Me three.” “Is she… in a happy relationship?…”

Xiao Jiahe lowered her baseball cap and headed backstage. After the stage ended, #ChenRanMusicFestival hit the trending searches. Xiao Jiahe clicked in curiously, since she hadn’t bought any promotional spots.

Much of the buzz was due to Qu Bai, and her previous “diva aura” compliment was circulating widely again. In the trending videos, Chen Ran’s rose-pink hair glowed softly. The stage lights flickered over her smooth back as she held the microphone out to the crowd for a massive sing-along. Aside from the unconventional hair color, she truly had the presence of a late-20th-century diva.

That brief, smiling look Chen Ran shared with Qu Bai seemed to crackle with electricity. Qu Bai had watched her intently, her eyes like soft water. Road-users on the trend also caught Chen Ran’s unusual state:

“No, but really… why does CR suddenly have this ‘married woman’ vibe?” (“She’s definitely dating.”) (“Could it be QB? QB dated someone similar before…”) “Starting a rumor: A few months ago she was a pure college girl; now she’s like a sultry wife.” (“I don’t want to admit it, but she really looks like a blooming peach blossom.”)

After coming off stage, a soft, fragrant person rushed into Chen Ran’s arms. It was Yu Zhou.

“Why are you here?” Chen Ran instinctively pulled up her stage outfit to cover Yu Zhou’s face. People were everywhere in the wings; she couldn’t let too many people see her.

“I told you I’d come. Sis, did you not want me here?”

“I did.” Chen Ran actually felt a bit flustered. Her time with Yu Lanzhou felt like a dream, so surreal that she tended to overlook everything else. She felt Yu Zhou’s attitude toward her was strange—sometimes intimate, sometimes distant. She couldn’t read her mind.

Chen Ran led Yu Zhou into her van to avoid being photographed. She leaned down to Xin Xin and asked, “Are you sure there are no blue flowers? Or any other color with the initial ‘Y’?”

Xin Xin hurriedly handed her a bunch of hydrangeas and another bouquet of double-petaled sunflowers, bowing her head in apology. “I’m sorry, Miss Chen, I was careless. These two were in the corner and were blocked by the curtains. I didn’t see them.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Chen Ran took the hydrangeas and searched among the dozens of blooms for a card. When she finally saw the letter “Y,” she looked up slightly, a shallow smile touching her lips. “As long as they’re here.”

She looked at the back of the card. Still no words, but it carried a fresh yet deep, unique fragrance. However, during the walk from the backstage to the car, Chen Ran didn’t carry the hydrangeas. Just in case they aren’t from Yu Lanzhou, I shouldn’t mess things up.

In the van, Chen Ran took off her stage jacket and asked Yu Zhou, “Did you come from Beijing? How was the show?”

“Same as always. Very enchanting, very good~” Yu Zhou stared at her with bright eyes. “I came from Hanglin. Mom and you were both in Hanglin, so I came back. The driver dropped me off; can I ride with you later?”

“I’m going back to the hotel.”

“But you don’t have other schedules for now. Sis, are you going back to the old estate?”

Chen Ran’s phone buzzed, and her heart skipped. She didn’t rush to answer Yu Zhou, checking the message first. As her intuition suggested, it was from Xu Wan: Teacher Yu wants you to come to the Jiayuan Villa tonight.

It was the place Xu Wan had arranged last time. Chen Ran replied: Okay.

She looked up at Yu Zhou. “I have to review the performance and re-arrange some songs with the band later. I won’t be going to the Yu estate.”

“Oh… okay.” Yu Zhou looked down at her nails, her thumb pressing against her index finger. “One more thing… Mom wants me to change my name…”

Chen Ran froze. her first reaction was to go along with Yu Lanzhou’s wish. She glanced at Xiao Jiahe in the front seat, then said to Yu Zhou, “Didn’t you want to change it before?”

Yu Zhou gave her a deep look, her voice low. “But I don’t want to be her tool. I don’t want to be called what she says or change just because she tells me to.”

“What did she say?” When Chen Ran said “she,” her tone was tender.

“She said as long as it’s not Yu Zhou, any name is fine. It’s up to me. I don’t even have to use the surname Yu.”

Chen Ran said, “You can look at it from another angle. It might not be about being a tool. Getting rid of a name that belongs to someone else… isn’t that a form of freedom?”

“Anyway, everything can be discussed. She isn’t… that hard to talk to.”

“Sis, you’ve really become biased.” Yu Zhou looked at her deeply again. “If I change my name, you’d be happy, wouldn’t you?” Because it vaguely represents the end of Yu Lanzhou and Zhou Jingting.

Chen Ran felt a flicker of awkwardness; it felt like Yu Zhou was cutting into her. But rationally, Yu Zhou changing her name was indeed a good thing. Chen Ran stopped talking.

A moment later, Yu Zhou added, “I should change it. Because I want her to be happy too.”

Chen Ran looked at her in the dim light. A dark trace appeared in Yu Zhou’s eyes—a look that didn’t belong to someone her age.

“Sis, I’ll head back first. Tonight’s performance was great, especially Bonfire.” Yu Zhou seemed to want to lighten the mood, asking with a half-smile, “Can you get me an autograph from Qu Bai later?”

Chen Ran nodded and said yes.

Inside the Jiayuan Villa, Yu Lanzhou sat on a rosewood armchair, staring blankly at her right hand. This hospital visit still hadn’t identified the cause of her hand’s involuntary trembling. She was beginning to feel a vague self-loathing.

On the phone on her table was a “work-leaving” video of Chen Ran: she was wearing a white shirt under a black oversized coat, her legs bare and smooth. Her rose-pink hair was eye-catching under the lights, her lips a youthful, seductive red. Her sharply defined jawline made one want to reach out and touch it. She looked both wild and pure.

Her arms were full of orange flowers as she crossed the zebra crossing to greet fans behind the barricades. Fans were shouting: “Great job, Chen Ran! Get some rest!” They were all vivid, young, beautiful girls.

Watching the video and comments, Yu Lanzhou seemed to forget for a moment that Chen Ran was hers. Then, she remembered.

Chen Ran’s love for her seemed shallow and inexplicable. She should have known that with a face like that, Chen Ran could lure anyone. But she… she only wanted Chen Ran to lure her with that face. To lure her with happiness, joy, tears, obsession, and attachment.

Rustling sounds came from outside. Chen Ran was lingering at the door. Didn’t you say you liked me? Didn’t you say you’d do anything? Why are you hesitating now? Whose likeness are you using to love me?

After dozens of seconds, Chen Ran knocked twice. Yu Lanzhou didn’t answer. Two more knocks. Yu Lanzhou watched the door warily.

Across the door, Chen Ran said, “Teacher Yu, I’m coming in.” She pushed the door open.

Yu Lanzhou watched Chen Ran walk toward her, step by step. She relaxed her posture and signaled for her to sit beside her. Chen Ran complied.

Yu Lanzhou reached out and hooked her chin, her deep-sea eyes gazing into Chen Ran’s for a long, quiet time. She slowly leaned toward her lips as if to toy with her. Chen Ran joyfully closed her eyes, only to hear an icy question the next second:

“Chen Ran, do you just want to mess with everyone?”

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