The expiration of the lease and the day of the finals were both at the end of the month. It could basically be said that Qingchu would finish the competition and then would be evicted from the rental house by the landlord.
Ji Sheng started collecting his luggage one week ago but procrastinated until finally putting it all away till the day before the competition.
Ji Sheng, who had finished packing, pounded his waist, turned around, sat down on the suitcase and looked up to find Xie Xuanming standing at the door for who knows how long. Ji Sheng was taken aback for a moment and then smiled: “When did you come, why didn’t you say anything?”
Xie Xuanming said, “Just now.”
His face was absolutely blank. Ji Sheng swayed back and forth gently and asked, “Sad?”
He joked again: “You need to pack, so as not to be too embarrassed when the landlord throws you out.”
Xie Xuanming lowered his eyes, neither agreeing nor refusing.
“People always have to part.” Ji Sheng comforted him, “It’s not that we won’t contact each other again. I’ll be the first to contact you if I start a band in the future.”
Xie Xuanming finally moved and said, “Don’t sit on the suitcase and sway, you will fall.”
“How can I!” It would be better if he didn’t say it, but since he did, Ji Sheng swayed almost triumphantly, “I have long legs and I can stand up as soon as I need to.
“Look, it’s okay to sway like this… damn!”
Ji Sheng happily lost his balance, falling over, and the suitcase fell down with a crash as well, the flimsy zip breaking and clothes scattering everywhere, while Ji Sheng lay on the floor in a mess.
Xie Xuanming’s expression finally changed from gloomy to helpless.
“I said you would fall.” He wanted to add a few words to scold him but when Ji Sheng looked up and smiled at him, he couldn’t scold him at all. He reached down and pulled Ji Sheng up, then squatted down to put the scattered clothes back into the suitcase.
Ji Sheng also wanted to help, but Xie Xuanming’s movements were neat and organised and there was no chance for him to intervene.
Retracting his hand, Ji Sheng simply sat down, propped his head and watched Xie Xuanming pack up, his eyes smiling.
“Xiao Xie is really like a little wife, so sensible and beautiful.”
Xie Xuanming paused and said, “I don’t help for free, I want to get paid.”
“Ah, I’ve just praised you.” Ji Sheng lowered his head, “Did Su Jing teach you kid bad things, what do you want?”
Xie Xuanming slowed down his movements and said clearly: “I will help you pack up and you will sing for me.”
“You really don’t wrong yourself, it’s very expensive to order me to sing.” Ji Sheng raised his eyebrows, “Okay, what do you want to listen to?” ”
“Love song, ah~” Ji Sheng chuckled, “You wrote it yourself… Could it be that you want to hear your little first love sing and come to me for a mood?”
Xie Xuanming patted his clothes a few times: “Will you sing or not?”
The gentle song rose in the narrow room, and beneath it, the 18-year-old quietly raised his eyes and stowed the intently singing 19-year-old in a treasure box of memories.
On his wrist, the hands of a fancy modified watch spinned, quivering, as the young man who could not keep time became eternal in his love.
On the day of the finals, Qingchu appeared with a new song “Monster in the Box”.
They announced their disbandment before the start of the performance, calmly plugged in the instruments amidst the regretful wails of the audience and started the performance as always.
Every year, countless bands are formed, perform and disband.
Qingchu was only a small part of that vast tide.
They formed silently, went through many difficulties and finally had a pretty beautiful ending before disbanding.
When the melody started, Xie Xuanming waited for the beat and leaned closer to the mic.
We are all monsters trapped in boxes
Every day trying to bang our heads against the wall
Insults are sucked into the lungs with the air
Chains of discipline and love work together as partners
We will eventually be shattered to pieces
Dying with our backbones pointing to heaven.
Xie Xuanming sang with all his might, abandoning his musical skills and personal style, leaving only the catharsis of emotional outburst.
The audience was so infected by his passion that many shouted themselves hoarse, and a few of the older audience members who had watched Qingchu all the way from the bottom to the top shed tears unconsciously.
At the end of the song, Xie Xuanming ignored the noise in the audience and turned around, showing his thin stubborn back to the audience.
He looked straight above him, towards the drums of God and the low chants of demons.
The stage lights spread from the cluster in all directions.
When thousands of beams of light came, Xie Xuanming opened his arms and leaned back slightly in a sacrificial posture.
The audience reached their hands, ready to welcome the fall of the rebel.
But Xie Xuanming did not leap down in the end, he only opened his arms unhesitatingly, like a fledgling eagle stretching its wings and gliding into the sky, or like the lonely and painful cry of the undead, embracing his lover in the void.
When Ji Sheng woke up, his vision was blocked by grey and black striped pyjamas.
The moment he opened his eyes, Xie Xuanming happened to get out of bed and stood in front of the small couch. Ji Sheng slept on his back today, his head coincidentally aligned with the unmentionable organ.
Ji Sheng was stunned for a moment, then quickly closed his eyes.
Although his reaction was not slow, the terrifying protrusion under the loose pyjamas still caused a great impact on his brain.
Not everyone had the experience of waking up and facing someone’s reproductive apparatus next to them.
Anyway, Ji Sheng chose to sound the SOS alarm in his heart, wishing that his brain would be able to forget that startling glimpse.
He closed his eyes and pretended to be dead until he heard Xie Xuanming’s footsteps gradually move away and the wardrobe door open.
Ji Sheng squinted and opened his eyes slightly; Xie Xuanming, with a towel and clothes in his hands, entered the bathroom.
Hearing the sound of water, Ji Sheng sat up and combed down his fluffy hair.
Good God, when did this guy develop so well?
Recalling that protruding piece with a strong sense of presence, Ji Sheng ‘tsk’ed slightly, and some unique unwillingness pertinent to men surged into his heart.
But he quickly balanced it out.
No matter how well-developed you are, what’s the use?
You don’t use it anyway.
You still have to get up early in the morning and take a cold shower.
Ji Sheng yawned, got up from the couch and went downstairs to the guest bathroom.
Xie Xuanming, how could he become so unlovable from head to toe, including his unmentionable organ?
Ji Sheng sniffled; where did Xiao Xie, the good wife and mother who would pack his things with his eyes downcast, go?
Miss him so much.
For the next two weeks, Ji Sheng was preparing for the Double Twelve Light Festival.
He was temporarily added to another band, performing as a secondary drummer.
“A secondary drummer? That means there’s a primary one?” Ji Sheng asked on the way to the practice room.
“Not really.” The agent said calmly, “It’s actually two drummers but the other company wouldn’t have it. So I told them about adding a musician, and the organiser automatically set the primary and the secondary according to the celebrity list position.”
Ji Sheng: “…”
Ji Sheng: “Then the other party didn’t know that I was also a drummer.”
“What about the rehearsal?”Ji Sheng was shocked, “I play alone? No joint practice?”
“In fact, there is no need to rehearse.” The agent said indifferently, “The organiser has made preparations, and the other company is also full of confidence, and can guarantee that there will be no mistakes in any case.”
“What are they going to do?”
“Play the recording without turning on the mic.” The agent’s words were concise.
Ji Sheng: “…”
Ji Sheng: “Okay.”
He ducked his head and absentmindedly spun his phone.
The agent looked at him from the rearview mirror: “Do you still have to practise? The boss said you could go straight back to the villa and rest.”
He didn’t even let him practise during rehearsals.
What kind of impression does Xie Xuanming have of Ji Hui?
He was really too arrogant.
Ji Sheng raised his eyes, smiled at the agent in the rearview mirror and said lightly: “I will practise, why won’t I practise. Even if you are fake drumming, you have to make a qualified fake drumming.”
“Okay.” The agent stepped on the accelerator and sped out.
After two weeks of practising alone, Ji Sheng went to the scene of the Double Twelve Light Festival.
In the past two weeks, not to mention that he had not rehearsed with the band he would cooperate with, he had not even met the musicians of that band once. If it weren’t for the agent’s reassurance that there would be staff guiding him at that time, Ji Sheng would even wonder if he would miss the show because he didn’t know anyone.
The stars of the Double Twelve Light Festival gathered, and the fans and spectators waiting in the audience excitedly held signs, talked and shouted, and the preparation area behind the stage was also very lively.
“Is Emperor Xie coming this time?” A little idol asked in the dressing room for mish-mash paste coffee(1).
“How is it possible?” A little paste actor replied, “If Senior Sheng comes, he won’t come. They are incompatible like fire and water.”
“My God, I thought it was a rumour.”
“Of course not… but I heard people say that Emperor Xie talked to the director and stuffed someone into the party.”
“Who the hell is he? For Emperor Xie to personally step out for him, impressive.”
“Some 18th tier guy surnamed Ji, he was on a hot search before… he looks a bit like Ji Sheng, you know.”
“Got it.” The little idol understood in seconds, “What’s his performance? A hundred people chorus, a group of sixteen sketch?”
“Can someone from Emperor Xie do the same kind of show as us paste? A proper band performance, as a drummer, with a fixed mic and a fixed camera kind of thing.”
“So good… can the 18th tier play drums?”
“Who can’t fake it, put a recording, it is the same thing if I do it, or you do it, or whoever…”
While they were talking, a staff member quickly walked to the dressing table next to them and said to the young man who was reading the program list: “Mr. Ji Hui, what can I do for you?”
Her voice was quite loud and clear, and the little idol and the little actor froze.
The two looked at each other and saw a face seven or eight points similar to Ji Sheng’s in the corner seat.
Reacting to the fact that the person they were discussing behind his back was listening on the sidelines, the little actor and the little idol were so embarrassed that they sheepishly stopped talking.
The little idol thought unconvincingly: really, it is the 18th tier, sitting there for half a day without being recognized by anyone.
The little actor said sourly: There is special staff here, Emperor Xie is generous.
The two of them were so sour that you could almost feel the smell wafting off the screen.
But there was one thing that they were right about. This staff member was indeed specially assigned by the director’s team to take care of Ji Sheng after Xie Xuanming mentioned it. The agent told Ji Sheng that he could find her if he needed anything.
At the moment the babysitting staff member had a smile on her face and an overwhelming sense of helplessness in her heart.
This kind of good-for-nothing artists with powerful backers were the most difficult to please, each one more incompetent and more temperamental than the other.
She was ready to be made to suffer but she had the professionalism to meet this young lover of the movie star with a smile, no matter what kind of fit he was going to throw.
Unexpectedly, the little paramour was surprisingly polite.
“Hello, can I ask you for one thing?”
Ji Sheng, who was looking down at the programme, raised his eyes, and the glittering tear mole was dazzling and bewitching.
The staff was dazed for a moment.
Even if it was a good-for-nothing, it was still a beautiful good-for-nothing, no wonder Emperor Xie threw a lot of money stuffing him in…
She returned to her senses: “Please tell, I will help if I can help.”
The beautiful good-for-nothing smiled slightly and his slender fingers tapped on the corner of the program list.
There was the name of the performance he was about to star in, followed by a word written in big letters—“pre-recorded”.
“I’m sorry to say this, but can you turn my mic on later? Please.”
- Artists who are not popular, yet or anymore