Chapter 17. The day of the performance was also Fu...
The day of the performance was also the day Fu Han routinely left alone. Ji Qingyu got up early, but Fu Han still hadn't returned. She wondered how long this cold war would last.
The room was rather quiet. He woke up in bed to clear his head and then got out to wash up.
The living room was spacious and bright. Aunt Wang made red bean dumplings and millet porridge that she had cooked all night. She knew that Ji Qingyu had a performance today, so she specially made some things that were easy to digest and could replenish her energy.
"Eat more." Aunt Wang looked at Ji Qingyu. Compared to when he first arrived, he had gained a lot of weight and was no longer skin and bones, but even so, the bones in his wrists were still clearly visible.
From the perspective of Wang Sao, an older generation, Ji Qingyu seemed too frail, which was a bit worrying.
She once caught Ji Qingyu and Fu Han arguing. She left a little late, and the bedroom door was not closed properly. Fu Han had broad arms and pinned her against the wall. Ji Qingyu couldn't escape, and Fu Han lifted her chin with one hand.
Fu Hanping said calmly, "Where do you want to go this time, like you did in high school, stabbing me in the back and then pretending to be innocent and naive?"
"Ji Qingyu, you always seem so well-behaved, but you're actually more shrewd than anyone else when it comes to calculating things."
Ji Qingyu did not refute, nor did he seem to be provoked by Fu Han's words. His back was against the wall, his head was down, and his light chestnut hair fell naturally, scattered messily on his shoulders and neck, making him look very well-behaved. His skin was white but bloodless, and his gaze was slightly lowered.
His hands were behind his back, his lips were slightly pursed, and his gaze was unfocused, as if he were in a daze, with a sense of distance from his surroundings, like a drifting planktonic organism.
Aunt Wang felt there must be some misunderstanding between them. Ji Qingyu was the kind of person who would be friendly and affectionate even to small animals on the street, but Fu Han was unusually disgusted with him.
Before she could make a sound to interrupt the two, the tense atmosphere suddenly changed. Ji Qingyu tiptoed and kissed Fu Han's chin, her slippers making a slapping sound on the ground, quick and light.
He still looked like he was sincerely admitting his mistake.
Fu Han was stunned for a moment.
Aunt Wang dared not look any longer. The lamplight inside the room was flickering. She suddenly realized that Ji Qingyu was not as weak as he seemed. He knew how to deal with Fu Han and was also very clear about Fu Han's weaknesses.
Ji Qingyu slowly finished the bowl of porridge, got up to say goodbye to Aunt Wang, packed her things, and left early.
When he arrived at the performance hall, the sky was just beginning to lighten. Only then did he feel nervous. To be honest, he wasn't very confident about bringing this unprecedented experience to the stage.
He slowly recalled that the unique inspiration for fairy tales came from reading books in the school library when he was in high school. Presumably to prevent students from reading too many miscellaneous books, the school bookshelves were filled with not only dense tutoring materials, but also complete sets of hardcover bilingual Grimm's Fairy Tales in Chinese and English.
This led Ji Qingyu to read almost every fairy tale she could find in a very short time.
At that time, Fu Han had just moved his territory and occupied the library. He was resting quietly by the window, while Ji Qingyu was silently flipping through books next to him.
The two of them usually didn't bother each other, but Fu Han would suddenly lean closer and drowsily look at a couple of pages of the book. At such times, Fu Han was usually not very awake. When turning the page, his little finger would touch his wrist bone, and a faint scent of green plums would waft from Fu Han, causing Ji Qingyu's brain to start to feel oxygen-deprived.
"What's so interesting about fairy tales?" Fu Han didn't understand, his voice lazy, slow, and low.
"Then stop looking and give it back to me." Ji Qingyu frowned slightly.
“Your taste is always terrible,” Fu Han stretched, casually picked up an anthology piled on the table, covered his face to block the sun, and nudged Ji Qingyu’s leg with his knee, not too hard, and said slowly, “I’m sleepy, read me an article.”
"...Is there anything you'd like to hear?" Ji Qingyu gently exhaled through her nose, turned two pages, and Fu Han didn't speak again, seemingly already asleep. Ji Qingyu deftly took the book away and reached out to draw the white curtains closed.
It's already such a distant memory.
Ji Qingyu snapped out of her reverie, rubbed her temples, and put the past behind her.
People had already entered the performance hall. He secretly lifted the curtain from backstage, but the front row, center seat was still empty and stood out conspicuously in the crowd. Ji Qingyu looked at it for two seconds and then lowered the curtain again.
Backstage was bustling with activity, everyone was in a flurry of activity, filled with both nervousness and excitement about going on stage.
Lin Feng sat on a low stool in front of the dressing table with a half-empty bottle of cheap whiskey next to him, reciting his lines.
Nannan was already dressed in her clothes; the puff-sleeved dress was sewn by Ji Qingyu herself, using materials she bought.
The other children were doing their own thing, some memorizing music, others facing the wall.
This small stage, with only a few spectators who might just be there for the fun, was the beginning of several years of preparation for Ji Qingyu.
His palms were covered in fine beads of sweat, which made him feel excited, happy, and panicked.
That untimely person popped into his mind again.
Ji Qingyu wondered how Fu Han was doing and what he was doing. Was he reading the letter Luo Sheng left behind, or was he still working? If he didn't come today, would he come tomorrow? Ji Qingyu wasn't expecting anything, but she just hoped that Fu Han would keep his promise so that she wouldn't always be worried.
There were more people than expected, nearly a hundred in total. He went through all the details in his mind again. They had gone over the process again and again and were very familiar with it. Ji Qingyu gradually relaxed.
"The positioning and dance moves have been practiced repeatedly, so there's no need to worry." Ji Qingyu checked the time as music started playing on stage. "Photography is not allowed during this performance, so even if we mess it up, there's no need to worry about leaving a bad impression."
Lin Feng tossed the whiskey into Ji Qingyu's arms: "Take a sip if you're nervous."
Ji Qingyu gripped the bottle tightly, hesitated for a moment, then leaned against the table and took a big gulp. The pungent liquor warmed his body, but he coughed violently, his eyes burned, and his cheeks flushed. The alcohol made him less clear-headed.
The audience became lively, and the light and shadow on the stage were like a spotlight gift box, indicating that the first act was about to begin.
"Have you heard? It seems to be directed by Ji Ran's brother. I don't know if it's true or not."
"I wouldn't have come if it weren't for the fact that a bunch of kids were lining up here."
"..."
"I'd like to see how rock and fairy tales can be combined. And if Ji Ran's songs are really written by this person, then this ticket is worth it."
"She's already married into a wealthy family, what's the point of pursuing ideals and dreams?"
"Alright, alright, let's begin!"
As the light and shadow fell, Nannan walked onto the stage, bowed, sat down at the piano, and pressed the first key.
The bass hummed, and the deafening sound made the whole place go wild. Ji Qingyu, wearing a rabbit ear mask, strummed the strings.
"Is this Ji Ran's brother? Wasn't he supposed to be in poor health? How come he's playing bass so energetically?" Someone in the audience exclaimed softly, their eyes fixed on Ji Qingyu. The drumbeats were intense, and the atmosphere was heating up.
"How can he play the piano?!"
Ji Qingyu only wants to do what he likes. He is content as long as his songs can be heard. When he is on stage, he doesn't remember anything except himself and the guitar in his hand. He is always calm at such times.
The audience gradually fell silent, holding their breath. Someone murmured, "Why can't we take pictures? I really want to record it."
"It's turned from black to road..."
"I've gone from hating to liking."
"Oh my god, he took off his mask, he's so handsome."
Ji Qingyu silently went through the process in his mind. Everything was going smoothly. There were still a few songs to go. If he could maintain his momentum, he would be able to complete the work well.
Plastic props and cardboard shimmered under the lights as Lin Feng appeared, dressed in a fitted costume with a hat covering most of his face, and whistled.
"This person is so professional! Where did you hire such a high-priced actor?"
Lin Feng has a unique talent that allows him to easily dominate the stage.
Ji Qingyu's face turned even redder. He finally gained some confidence and dared to glance down at the audience, only to find that there was someone in the empty seat, arms crossed, with a nonchalant and indifferent look on his face.
It was Fu Han; Ji Qingyu recognized him at a glance, even out of the corner of her eye.
His fingers trembled, escaping his lips; his heart felt like it was being gripped by an invisible hand; he shrugged, and sweat began to bead on his back.
Halfway through the performance, Lin Feng suddenly stopped. He froze on the stage, his gaze fixed on the audience. Lin Feng's gaze was like a scorching hot iron. The audience looked puzzled, but Fu Han suddenly stood up.
In the darkness, Fu Han's expression was one of disdain. The lights were dim, and a faint beam of stage light reflected off his face. Fu Han's hands were clenched into fists.
Lin Feng seemed frozen in place, completely unmoved by Ji Qingyu's reminders. He then quickly jumped off the stage to leave, but Nannan shouted from the stage, trying to stop him. Ji Qingyu was also caught off guard by this sudden turn of events.
A gasp rippled through the audience as Ji Qingyu's piano playing went out of tune. Everything was like a domino effect, irreversible from the moment the first domino collapsed.
Ji Qingyu was still bewildered. Lin Feng was about to rush to the door when Fu Han took a big step and grabbed him tightly.
Fu Han's eyes were more dangerous than ever before, seemingly filled with uncontrollable rage. He laughed in an instant, and Ji Qingyu stopped playing. The scene was in chaos, but he could only see Fu Han's hand, which was trembling uncontrollably at his side.
Lin Feng's face was deathly pale. Fu Han ripped off his oversized cowboy hat, revealing his entire face. His hair, which was stuck to his forehead, was disheveled, and his eyes were bloodshot, as if they were on fire.
On the stage, too far away, Ji Qingyu couldn't hear Fu Han's words clearly. Squinting, she watched his lips move. He only uttered two words, yet Lin Feng and Ji Qingyu froze simultaneously. A bone-chilling cold enveloped Ji Qingyu. The knot in her heart, which had been elusive, was suddenly untied, loose and teetering on the brink of collapse. Fu Han had said:
"Mother."
How could that be...
Ji Qingyu also stood up. His legs could barely support him, and he had to hold onto the piano stand next to him to keep from collapsing.
A note from the author:
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