Spring Night of Misty Rain - Chapter 45

Xu Huaiyu was a true bandit; by the time she finished rummaging through everything, few valuable gifts remained. Upholding the principle of protecting her own, Xu Luosu allocated quite a few items to Shen Zeyu. Shen Zeyu was so startled she declined repeatedly, until Weng Ran finally spoke up and told her to accept them.

Just when it seemed the day’s activities at the Xu house were over, Weng Ran extended an invitation to Shen Zeyu: “A new year brings a new look. Grandma and I are both getting our hair done; the hairstylist will be here in a moment.”

“I see your hair has grown quite long. Why not tidy it up a bit? It’ll make you look more spirited.”

In any other circumstance, Shen Zeyu would have firmly declined. But Weng Ran’s invitation felt different, so she simply nodded and agreed. Xu Luosu, standing nearby, initially wanted to help her navigate out of it, but since Shen Zeyu had already agreed, she let it be.

A short while later, the hairstylist arrived, and Weng Ran led them to the family’s public styling area to begin. This area was actually prepared for Grandma Xu. She enjoyed makeup and styling but hated the hassle, preferring “fragrant young girls” to fuss over her. Every time she went out for an event, she would book a specific stylist to come up and organize things; this time was no exception.

The visiting stylists had collaborated with the Xu family for over a decade. Seeing a new face, they were quite curious. The one assigned to Shen Zeyu was an auntie who specialized in Grandma Xu’s hair. She stood behind Shen Zeyu with her scissors, studying her carefully. She looked a bit conflicted. “This lady’s hair looks easy to cut, but it’s actually quite difficult.”

She sighed and looked at Old Mrs. Xu. “Teacher Xu, do you have any thoughts?”

Xu Qiongyu turned her head, looking Shen Zeyu over from left to right, and finally concluded: “The child is so sweet-looking. Just trim the front a bit, then a little off the back, and she’ll look wonderful.” She paused and added, “But you still have to follow her wishes. A-Ze, tell this auntie how you want it cut. Don’t be shy.”

The auntie understood instantly—this new face held a high social standing in the Xu household and was no ordinary guest. She looked down and asked again, “Then how would the lady like it cut?”

Shen Zeyu raised her eyes to her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were covered by curls that had grown too long; her gaze was calm. “Just as Grandma said. Just cut it shorter.”

“Alright.”

The styling process was a long one. Since Grandma and Mother were accompanying her, Xu Luosu and the others didn’t come to disturb them and went about their own business.

Xu Qiongyu was a very talkative person, and Weng Ran was no exception. The two shared a great relationship and chatted about family matters and industry gossip—like whose child refused an arranged marriage and was dating internet celebrities, or how recent policies were trending and whether Xu Qingyue’s projects could get approved.

Shen Zeyu caught snippets of it all. Naturally, they didn’t forget her in their conversation. In fact, before Xu Luosu had even mentioned Shen Zeyu, they had privately investigated her reputation in the industry and knew the films she had made.

Xu Qiongyu mentioned casually: “Oh, A-Ze, in that Dream of the South you made, didn’t Teacher Lin Xiang star in it? What was he like to work with? Was he easy to talk to? Professional?”

Dream of the South was a Republican-era drama. It told the story of Nan Meng, a genius Cantonese opera writer born into a warlord family and pampered by her older siblings. The film was based on a real, famous Cantonese opera writer who, influenced by her grandmother, loved the art and possessed a natural talent, writing scripts that made everyone who performed them famous.

But as the film industry invaded, capital intervened, and the market shifted, her scripts lost their audience. Still, she held onto her original heart, refusing to write vulgar scripts like “The Great War of King Kong and the Seven Women,” continuing instead to write of her country and her romantic ideals.

Unfortunately, times changed. The Cantonese army was defeated, and her brother, to save the family, became a traitor, allowing the Japanese army to occupy Rongcheng and demanding their theater write a play to entertain them. Nan Meng wrote a “dual-meaning” script. When they officially took the stage, the theater performed a play cursing the invaders and coordinated an assassination with the Eighth Route Army.

After the incident escalated, Nan Meng sent the others away and returned home. Under her brother’s protection, she survived but was sent to Hong Kong. She continued writing plays there, but no one dared buy them. She fell into poverty, contracted tuberculosis, and finally died on a snowy night.

The film contained the persistence of a writer and the helplessness of a broken country. Lin Xiang, a triple-threat star from the 70s and 80s, played the role of Nan Meng Ichiro’s teacher. He was demanding of her at first but ultimately became her soulmate; it was a deeply moving performance.

This was Shen Zeyu’s best work to date. Zhou Qingyang had been ecstatic after the premiere, believing she would sweep the awards. But one cannot fight against the tide. During the year Shang Qiuchi left her, Dream of the South was active in various competitions but came away with essentially nothing. The entire crew had been led on. Even if people online stood up for the film, any mention of Shang Qiuchi or Jin Ze caused it to vanish from the internet.

When the movie was in theaters, Xu Luosu had urged her entire family to see it, and it left a deep impression on them. Especially Xu Qiongyu; she had searched for reviews online afterward. Many young people wondered why Nan Meng, clearly dying, refused to bow to her family or accept help from friends.

Xu Qiongyu had praised her to Xu Luosu back then: “This director understands artists.”

“They live off ‘pride’ and ‘backbone.’ As people live longer and give up more things, they forget what they should hold onto. But these people are different; they are born to persist for the sake of something.”

Like literature, poetry, romance, and love.

Shen Zeyu, coming from such a family herself, understood this quality intimately. It was precisely this that made Dream of the South the great regret of the five major awards that year.

Hearing someone mention the work now brought a faint sting of pain. She was silent for a moment before retrieving her memories. After careful thought, she replied: “Teacher Lin Xiang is a wonderful collaborator. He was very professional on set and gave us a lot of guidance regarding opera. He is a very impressive person.”

She offered her praise and then asked tentatively, “Does Grandma Xu like Teacher Lin Xiang very much?”

Xu Qiongyu waved her hand, looking a bit embarrassed. “Oh… I wouldn’t say ‘like’ exactly. It’s just that song he used to sing: ‘Green mountains reflected on the pale lake~ watching the water colors match the mountain light~'”

“I think it sounds so lovely.”

Xu Qiongyu sang a short segment, and Shen Zeyu recognized it immediately. “Is it ‘In the Middle of the Water’—the one with ‘a pair of beautiful silhouettes’?”

Xu Qiongyu nodded quickly. “Yes, yes, yes! That’s the one! It’s such an old song. You know it too?”

Shen Zeyu nodded. “Yes, a little. My grandmother liked it quite a bit.”

Xu Qiongyu asked immediately, “Then does your grandmother like Teresa Teng? Oh, I’m absolutely crazy about her…”

Shen Zeyu followed her lead: “She likes her too.”

The styling room was filled with laughter. Weng Ran, seeing the “grandmother and granddaughter” pair chatting so happily, suggested with a smile: “How about this—it’s been a while since we’ve had a sing-along at home. What if we do some KTV after dinner tonight?”

Xu Qiongyu strongly agreed, even clapping her hands. “Good, good, good! I think that’s a great idea.”

“Then everyone will sing tonight.”

While they called it KTV, it was actually singing together in the family’s home theater. Xu Qiongyu was extremely focused on visuals and audio; in her spare time, she enjoyed listening to Blu-ray discs in the media room. This room was luxuriously decorated—one hundred square meters with twenty seats, all leather 4D-standard recliners with built-in massage functions.

After dinner, everyone went down to the fourth floor. When they arrived at the media room, the equipment was all set up, and the household aunts had already sliced fruit platters for each seat.

As soon as Shen Zeyu sat down, she heard Grandma Xu tap the microphone and say to her, “A-Ze, let’s sing ‘In the Middle of the Water’ together.”

To be called out before even getting comfortable… Shen Zeyu stood up and sighed. Beside her, Xu Luosu handed her a microphone, full of encouragement: “Senior, fighting!”

No ‘fighting’ at all!

Despite her thoughts, she honestly took the microphone, coughed lightly to test the effect, and said shyly, “I’m not very good at singing. Grandma, please lead me if I go out of tune.”

Xu Qiongyu said happily, “Oh, you’ll sing just fine today. Come, come, it’s no problem.”

As she spoke, she clicked on the song. The MV appeared on the big screen, the guzheng intro began, and Xu Qiongyu raised the mic to sing sweetly: “Green mountains reflected on the pale lake, watching the water colors match the mountain light…”

She had a very good voice. Even at her age, it didn’t sound old at all; her singing was melodious, moving, and full of emotion. The family all knew Grandma had a great voice, so when Shen Zeyu’s voice joined in, everyone was momentarily stunned.

When she sang, her pronunciation was different from her speaking voice. Normally, Shen Zeyu’s voice was positioned more toward the front, sounding a bit “tender.” But when she sang, it was different—she used nasal resonance, making her voice somewhat deep and husky. It sounded gravelly and very sexy.

Xu Luosu’s eyes instantly lit up. She sat beside her, propping her chin on her hand and watching her with eyes full of stars.

“In the Middle of the Water” was a very old Cantonese song that demanded a lot of emotion from the performer. Shen Zeyu knew a bit of Cantonese opera-style vibrato, which, combined with the nine tones of Cantonese, made the singing even more passionate. Her voice and Grandma’s sweet tone paired together with a natural rhythmic vibration; they were a perfect match.

When the song ended, Grandma Xu still wanted more. She turned to Shen Zeyu, looking very happy. “Do you know ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’?”

This was the first song from one of Teacher Lin Xiang’s oldest albums. To know a song that old… and she claimed she wasn’t a fan.

As it happened, Shen Zeyu did know it. She nodded. “Mhm, I do.”

Grandma Xu jubilantly selected the song. As the two sang again, Weng Ran leaned over to Xu Luosu and whispered, “Where did you dig up this little antique?” These songs weren’t things a child could know without daily immersion in the family home.

Weng Ran was curious and couldn’t help asking, “Did you tell her Grandma likes Lin Xiang?”

Xu Luosu turned to her mother with a helpless look. “I didn’t say a word.”

And it was her first time hearing Shen Zeyu sing too! Xu Luosu thought for a moment and added: “Besides, she doesn’t need to do those things.”

She didn’t need Shen Zeyu to “cater to her family’s interests” or “win them over.” She only needed Shen Zeyu to be as comfortable and secure as possible in her home.

Weng Ran pulled back slightly. In the dim media room, using the light from the big screen, she studied her daughter’s expression. Xu Luosu was gazing at Shen Zeyu with a very steady look.

Weng Ran gave a soft “tsk.” She glanced at Shen Zeyu, who was holding the mic and awkwardly spinning in circles as she danced with the old lady. She pulled her gaze back to Xu Luosu, her expression softening. “You really like her that much?”

Her voice was very low, almost lip-reading level.

Xu Luosu poked a piece of kiwi and put it in her mouth. She thought about it and said, “I don’t know.” As she spoke, she propped her chin on one hand and turned back to Shen Zeyu, her eyes shimmering. “But I just feel like everything she does is so cute.”

Weng Ran: “…”

Although she was happy her daughter finally had some normal human emotions, a look like that… it really was quite an eyesore!

She began to understand a little bit why her husband had cried so much when Yue-yue came out—crying and then wiping his tears, thankful that the partner was a girl.

That was her feeling right now: troubled, very troubled.