Times of Our Lives - Chapter 40

After a year, Bear Baby finally became an associate director in their film crew. Director Zhang had carefully mentored him, almost always bringing him along to shoots. To celebrate his promotion, Bear Baby specifically found a time to invite Xie Meng and Ji Qinyang for dinner.

 

“Thursday doesn’t work; I have a social engagement with the developer,” Xie Meng, who had successfully transitioned from intern to full-time after nearly a year, said. “Friday is fine.”

 

Bear Baby immediately agreed: “No problem. What about Ji Qinyang?”

 

Xie Meng smiled, “The performance is on Saturday. He should be out of his retreat today.”

 

Ji Qinyang, after finishing work, would spend several days in a sort of rejuvenation, not able to function without sleeping for three days and nights. As the band grew in size, he became busier, and every decision required careful consideration.

 

Bear Baby had previously discussed the future of the band with him. He believed that one shouldn’t put all their eggs in one basket and that setting up a studio required consideration from multiple angles.

 

“If you want to become a big name,” Bear Baby said as he lit a cigarette, “You can’t just stick to one band.” He gave an example: “If your lead singer goes solo or if someone in the band sells it to an entertainment company, and they don’t follow your path because you’re not famous enough, wouldn’t that be a disaster?”

 

Ji Qinyang handed Xie Meng the chopsticks and asked the boss lady for some wine: “If someone who works behind the scenes becomes too famous, then what’s the point of working behind the scenes?”

 

Bear Baby clicked his tongue: “It’s different. When I say ‘famous,’ I mean skill. Even if you have the talent, it’s a shame if you can’t fully utilize it due to the band’s limitations.”

 

Ji Qinyang drank his wine without speaking. He was in a similar position to Bear Baby, both working behind the scenes and involved in creation, with the goal of creating something eternal, immortal, and classic. Therefore, he could completely understand what Bear Baby was saying.

 

After Xie Meng ordered the food, he looked at Bear Baby and asked, “What about you? When will you be able to make your own film?”

 

“I want to,” Bear Baby said, chewing on his cigarette and ruffling his hair. “When I’m satisfied with a script, I can’t secure investment. When I get the investment, the script looks like junk, and finding actors is also a problem. The ones I like are too famous.”

 

Xie Meng knew he was referring to Zheng Ming, who became a domestic film emperor at 19, entered Hollywood at 22, and now at nearly 25, made only one film a year, always choosing the roles. Having won numerous awards both domestically and internationally, he was highly sought after.

 

Bear Baby sighed: “He’s moving too fast. I’m running barefoot trying to catch up, filled with the bittersweetness of Kuafu chasing the sun.”

 

Xie Meng almost spit out his drink when he heard the Kuafu reference, coughing as he said, “Aren’t you mutual followers on Weibo? Why not ask him if he’d like to be in your film?”

 

Bear Baby gave him a resentful look: “If your idol is too excellent and you’re just a *si, would you dare to pursue them?”

 

“…” Xie Meng thought for a moment and realized he didn’t have an answer.

 

Ji Qinyang suddenly reached over and pinched his neck: “What are you daydreaming about? Your idol is right here.”

 

Xie Meng smiled and nudged him playfully.

 

The three of them ate until late at night. Ji Qinyang’s phone suddenly rang. Qi Fei’s loud voice could be heard even without the speakerphone.

 

“Yi Mei Da Da!” Qi Fei shouted. “The crabs from Suzhou are here. I’ll send some to you and Xie Meng.”

 

Unlike other single people, Qi Fei had just graduated and married Gu Meiyan. The young beauty was still in her junior year, and they didn’t hold a wedding banquet. Instead, they planned to travel for their honeymoon and enjoy their time together.

 

Ji Qinyang and Xie Meng later learned that Gu Meiyan’s family was very well-off; they owned several chain restaurants in Suzhou.

 

Qi Fei happily said: “My sister will graduate in a year. She’ll come to Beijing to visit you then.”

 

Ji Qinyang: “Sure, I’ll organize a band performance for you to celebrate your marriage.”

 

Qi Fei laughed heartily on the other end of the line, indicating that Ji Qinyang’s promise was not to be taken lightly; he would remember it.

 

Bear Baby asked after Qi Fei hung up: “High school classmates?”

 

Xie Meng nodded with a smile: “We’ve been friends for almost ten years.”

 

“That’s impressive,” Bear Baby agreed, then suddenly changed the subject: “So, it’s been almost five years for us too.”

 

Ji Qinyang looked at him warily: “What do you want?”

 

Bear Baby: “Hehe, let’s eat the crabs together!”

 

Xie Meng: “…”

 

In late autumn, heating in Beijing starts in mid-December. Banks are incredibly busy at the end of the year with year-end settlements and preparing for a good start to the new year. Xie Meng was running around with developers, often negotiating late into the night.

 

As he came out of the real estate office, it had started snowing. Xie Meng pulled up his coat collar and went with Chu Kanglin to get the car.

 

Chu Kanglin, who had joined the bank two years earlier, was now a department head.

 

“Today’s discussions went well,” Chu Kanglin said, lighting a cigarette and lowering the car window. Xie Meng sat in the passenger seat and fastened his seatbelt.

 

“If you close this deal, your year-end bonus will look good,” Chu Kanglin said, reversing the car and glancing at Xie Meng with a smile. “So, any plans to move up next year?”

 

Xie Meng modestly replied, “I still have a lot to learn.”

 

Chu Kanglin laughed: “High achievers know how to talk.” He asked Xie Meng for his address, surprised, “You’re still living near the school?”

 

Xie Meng nodded: “Yes, I rented it a long time ago.”

 

Chu Kanglin raised an eyebrow: “With your girlfriend?”

 

“Not really,” Xie Meng added with a smile. “It’s just that I rented it with friends.”

 

Chu Kanglin said “oh” and didn’t ask further. When he was about to drop Xie Meng off at his doorstep, he noticed someone standing outside the neighborhood in the heavy snow.

 

“Who’s that person…” Chu Kanglin muttered.

 

Xie Meng squinted for a moment and then suddenly said, “Mr. Chu, please drop me off here.”

 

Chu Kanglin asked, “You don’t want to go inside?”

 

“No need,” Xie Meng had already unfastened his seatbelt. He said shyly, “Thank you, Mr. Chu.”

 

“Don’t mention it,” Chu Kanglin unlocked the car. “Good luck. Keep up the good work.”

 

Xie Meng got out of the car. The snow in Beijing was different from that in the south; it could accumulate quickly. He walked, stepping through the snow towards the neighborhood entrance, with Chu Kanglin keeping the headlights on to illuminate his path.

 

Halfway there, Xie Meng waved to the man standing at the neighborhood entrance.

 

Chu Kanglin lit a cigarette, watching as Xie Meng approached the man. The man removed his scarf, revealing strikingly colored hair and a handsome face.

 

Ji Qinyang wrapped the scarf around Xie Meng’s face and nodded towards the car.

 

Chu Kanglin only realized what was happening when the two had disappeared from view. He moved his fingers, noticing with a “hiss” that his cigarette butt was almost burned out.

 

Zhang Ganggang had been in a war zone for almost a year, sending Xie Meng an email almost every month. The emails were brief, mostly containing photos—some Xie Meng had seen in newspapers or magazines, others were new.

 

Below the photos, Zhang Ganggang occasionally added comments.

 

“There are seven or eight-year-old kids there with guns, and their marksmanship is better than mine.” The image showed a child holding a gun heavier than himself.

 

Zhang Ganggang sometimes complained: “The internet is bad; I can’t even check Weibo. I have to write emails on the rooftop… If a bomb fell while I’m up there, I’d be finished qaq.”

 

“My laptop was destroyed in an explosion last week, and everything in the C drive is gone… Oh well, there wasn’t much anyway.”

 

In his most recent letter, Zhang Ganggang finally mentioned Han Dong: “How is Grandpa Han?”

 

Xie Meng wasn’t sure how to answer. Over the past year, Zhang Ganggang’s photos had increased in number, covering locations from Egypt to Syria and then to Israel. The most recent ones were from Iraq, and even Xie Meng, an outsider, could see the changes in Zhang Ganggang’s state of mind.

 

From once vibrant to now filled with cruelty and despair.

 

Zhang Ganggang captured images of city ruins, bodies covered with white cloths along roads after car bomb attacks, and the quiet, sacred churches in Israel after the artillery ceased.

 

He occasionally photographed a flower or a tree growing among gravel or the endless wilderness.

 

Xie Meng organized these photos and sent them to Han Dong. He included Zhang Ganggang’s message but received no reply.

 

As the New Year approached, Han Dong finally got in touch.

 

“I’ve switched jobs to Huawei,” Han Dong said during a video call with Ji Qinyang in the afternoon. The background showed Beijing Capital Airport: “In the overseas equipment maintenance department.”

 

Ji Qinyang raised an eyebrow: “To the Middle East?”

 

Han Dong smiled without denying it.

 

Xie Meng had just finished making dumplings and entered the room, with Ji Qinyang offering him a seat.

 

“Have you decided?” Xie Meng asked Han Dong.

 

Han Dong replied, “I decided a long time ago.”

 

“Stay safe,” Xie Meng said, not saying much more. “Keep in touch and remember to email.”

 

“I know,” Han Dong nodded. It seemed he was preparing to board. Before ending the call, he looked at Xie Meng and said quietly, “I’ll be spending the New Year abroad, so I’m letting you know in advance.”

 

Xie Meng smiled: “Happy New Year.”

 

“Happy New Year,” Han Dong waved at the camera.

 

The day before New Year’s Eve, the band held their last New Year’s Eve concert. Ji Qinyang had been so busy these days that he barely had time to sleep. The concert drew over ten thousand fans.

 

The square rented by the band was nearly overcrowded. Despite the cold, Qian Mo performed on stage in just a T-shirt. Ji Qinyang took Xie Meng to the roof of an abandoned factory opposite the stage.

 

“Just watch from here,” he said, wrapping himself and Xie Meng in a blanket. “There will be fireworks later.”

 

After listening for a while, Xie Meng asked, “Did you write all of these?”

 

Ji Qinyang replied, “Yes.”

 

Xie Meng asked, “Did you record them?”

 

Ji Qinyang said, “They’ll be recorded after the New Year. I’ll bring them home then.” He took out his phone, logged into Weibo, and Xie Meng saw that the band’s Weibo page was approaching 3 million followers.

 

“Usually, it’s Wen Tao who manages it,” Ji Qinyang explained. The page featured previews of new songs and concert photos, with several songs having over ten thousand shares.

 

After browsing the homepage for a while, Xie Meng suddenly said, “You’re really amazing.”

 

Ji Qinyang was momentarily stunned, realizing what Xie Meng meant. He kissed the back of Xie Meng’s head and smiled, “That’s nothing. Your year-end bonus isn’t much less than mine this year.”

 

Xie Meng didn’t speak. He turned his face and returned the kiss on Ji Qinyang’s forehead.

 

“By the way,” Ji Qinyang remembered something. He asked Xie Meng to sit down, went downstairs, and brought up a guitar. He tuned it and strummed gently.

 

Xie Meng, wrapped in the blanket, sat in a chair, looking at him with a puzzled expression.

 

Ji Qinyang held the guitar, cleared his throat, and said slowly, “Now it’s Mr. Xie’s exclusive concert time.”

 

Xie Meng couldn’t help but smile and clapped his hands.

 

“Happy New Year,” Ji Qinyang sang softly while playing the guitar. “I love you, Mr. Xie.”

 

That night, on the rooftop, Ji Qinyang sang more than ten songs just for Xie Meng, all of which the band had never performed before.

 

As he sang the last song, fireworks exploded in the square below, lighting up the winter night sky over Beijing.

 

Xie Meng looked down at Ji Qinyang, who was sitting cross-legged and singing quietly.

 

In that moment, Xie Meng felt as if his entire world was contained within the song performed by Ji Qinyang.