Chapter 5
Seven days later, everything was as usual, without any disturbances.
Rongxiang stood outside the car, the hem of his suit jacket being held tightly by the person inside. He turned around, frowning, and said, "Hangsen, stop messing around!"
Zhao Hangsen grabbed his clothes tightly, grinning, "Xiao Xiang, let's go? Are you really staying home in mourning? A new movie is showing at Guanghua Cinema, a Chaplin film, it's the first time it's being shown today, and it's packed! I had Lao Qian save us good seats—let's go!" He pulled him along as he spoke, and Rong Xiang, unable to resist his entanglement, reluctantly turned back and got into the car.
Just as Zhao Hangsen had predicted, the area in front of the Guanghua Cinema was packed with people. Zhao Rong and his companion entered through the back door and were respectfully escorted by Manager Qian to the VIP seats in the front row. After taking their seats, the two glanced around and noticed that it wasn't time to enter yet. A few soldiers were scattered in the first-class seats in the back row, presumably subordinates of some regimental commander who had come to reserve seats beforehand.
Rongxiang then felt a sense of novelty and excitement. For nearly a year, he had been preoccupied with family matters and, apart from occasionally going out with Feng Huizhen, had not had any desire for leisure. Now that everything had finally settled down, it wouldn't be unreasonable to have some fun with Zhao Hangsen, that playboy.
The two were chatting in hushed tones when a man in a suit walked up and sat down next to Rong Xiang. They both turned to look at him. The man appeared to be in his early twenties, dressed in a suit. He had a round face, thin lips, and wore gold-rimmed glasses. At first glance, he seemed quite refined, but his refinement wasn't pure; it always seemed to be mixed with something else—yes, a touch of "warrior's air."
"Jingyuan? What a coincidence!" The courtyard was dimly lit, and Zhao Hangsen squinted to make out the person. He recognized him and, as usual, exclaimed and reached out to shake his hand: "What brings you here today?"
Fu Jingyuan shook hands with Zhao Hangsen: "I just sent the manuscript back to Beiping yesterday, so I can take a break for the next couple of days. When I came here just now, Lao Qian said you were here. I saw two people sitting here from afar, but you and your friend are about the same size, so I had no idea which one was you."
Zhao Hangsen then remembered that Rong Xiang was sitting in the middle: "Oh, this is my good friend, Rong Xiang. Rong Xiang, this is Fu Jingyuan from Beiping."
Rong Xiang and Fu Jingyuan nodded to each other. Fu Jingyuan remained expressionless, but inwardly he was astonished. A while ago, the Rong family had been decimated, leaving only this Third Master in charge of all military and financial power. Rumors were rampant, but because they were so horrifying, people found them somewhat absurd and chilling. Local newspapers in Fengtian, for their own protection, dared not publish the story. However, Fu Jingyuan, as a reporter, maintained daily contact with the Beijing headquarters and was exceptionally well-informed. He knew that newspapers throughout the country had vividly portrayed the Rong family's tragedy, and although Rong Xiang was in Fengtian, his infamy had already spread far and wide.
But the young man before him was gentle and refined; how could he be a patricide and fratricide?
While he was lost in thought, Rongxiang asked him, "Mr. Fu isn't a local, is he?"
Fu Jingyuan hurriedly replied, "No, I used to work at the Beijing Jingwen Newspaper, and later I was assigned to the Manchurian branch here."
Rong Xiang nodded: "Oh, it's a reporter."
"Yes, reporter." Fu Jingyuan realized that Rong Xiang was better off not speaking; once he started talking, his words were utterly dull.
Chaplin's films were indeed hilarious, and everyone in the courtyard was laughing so hard they were doubled over, when suddenly someone crouched down and slipped over, whispering a few words in Zhao Hangsen's ear. Zhao Hangsen's expression changed, and he hurriedly said to Rong Xiang, "It's terrible, something's come up at home, I have to go first." Then he said goodbye to Fu Jingyuan and quickly walked towards the back gate.
Rong Xiang chuckled inwardly. This wasn't the first or second time trouble had broken out in Zhao Hangsen's household. It always boiled down to his concubines fighting. These women, brought in from who-knows-where, were beautiful, but each one was incredibly shrewish, and when they fought, they'd leave everyone bloodied. Zhao Hangsen had no worries; his only concern was his small harem—his third wife was about to give birth, and her nemesis, the fifth wife, was lurking, waiting for an opportunity to gain power through her child.
"His wives must be fighting again." Fu Jingyuan's gaze shifted from the screen to Rong Xiang's face, his expression slightly sly, as if he were gossiping.
"Mr. Fu also knows about his family's affairs?" Rong Xiang asked seriously. The flickering light and shadow on the screen made his face look unreal.
“I know. I’ve known him for over a year. He often mentions you to me, saying that he used to hang out with you a lot.”
Rong Xiang smiled and said, "Is that so?"
"Yes."
The two continued watching the movie.
By the time the movie ended, it was already dark outside. Rong Xiang had arrived in Zhao Hangsen's car, but now that Zhao Hangsen had left, he stood at the cinema entrance, somewhat lost. Along with his loss came a sense of panic—he shouldn't have been out alone; what if someone shot him?—it was all Zhao Hangsen's fault.
At this moment, Fu Jingyuan's voice rang out from behind: "Mr. Rong, it's not too late yet, how about we go out for a casual meal together?"
Rong Xiang tilted his head slightly, glancing sideways at Fu Jingyuan. His eyes were watery, but his expression was strong and stern. He was thinking about Fu Jingyuan's suggestion. For some reason, he didn't want to be alone today, and he had a vague and terrifying premonition.
"Alright. Then I'll gladly accept your offer."
The two men took rickshaws and arrived at Shuxiang Pavilion one after the other. The waiter ushered them into a private room and served them tea and menus. Fu Jingyuan pushed the menu towards Rong Xiang, who shook his head and pushed it back, feeling uneasy.
Later events proved his sixth sense to be remarkably accurate. The third master of the Rong family was always a recluse, and on one rare occasion when he went out alone, there were more than one gun aimed at him.
One dish after another was served. Sichuan cuisine is known for its strong flavors, and the aroma wafted onto Rong Xiang's face, making him involuntarily swallow. The Rong family's chefs were only so-so, so he usually didn't have much of an appetite at home. Seeing Fu Jingyuan pick up his chopsticks, he also took a piece of meat and put it in his mouth.
Rong Xiang's sudden outburst of coughing startled Fu Jingyuan. He guessed that Rong Xiang must have choked on chili powder, but he didn't know how to relieve it. Seeing Rong Xiang covering his mouth and nose with his hand, coughing incessantly with his back bent over, he had no choice but to quickly call the waiter, give him water, and pat his back. After a flurry of activity, Rong Xiang finally straightened up. Wiping his face with a damp towel, Rong Xiang was clearly quite embarrassed, his face flushing red in layers, extending from his cheeks to his neck.
"It's really my fault. I didn't ask you beforehand if you could eat spicy food before bringing you here."
"Where," Rong Xiang said, his mouth still burning.
Fu Jingyuan couldn't tell if he was happy or unhappy, but he felt that he seemed shy, which suddenly made him feel amused. So he decided to tease him: "Then let's not eat this. How about I treat you to ice cream?"
Rongxiang was delighted to hear this and couldn't wait to get up and leave: "Alright then."
Fu Jingyuan went out with him with a smile. Fortunately, he didn't live on a salary, so he didn't feel bad about giving up the large table of untouched dishes.
The ice cream shop was right next door, a place usually frequented by female students. Now that it was late, the owner was preparing to close. But then two men came in, each ordered a plate of ice cream, and sat down to eat it with great seriousness.
Rong Xiang quickly ate a plateful, the heat in his mouth subsiding, making him feel so comfortable he almost cried. Pushing the plate away, he smiled politely at Fu Jingyuan and said, "I'd like to eat more."
Fu Jingyuan turned around and held up one finger to the shop owner, who immediately shook another plate and brought it over.
Rongxiang finished the plate, his tongue numb with cold. Wiping his mouth, he remembered something else: "Mr. Fu—"
Fu Jingyuan waved his hand: "Just call me Jingyuan."
"Then I'll gladly accept your offer. Jingyuan, could you please take me home one more time?"
Fu Jingyuan took off his glasses: "Of course."
Rong Xiang couldn't help but glance at him a few more times. It turned out that after Fu Jingyuan took off his glasses, he had a face with prominent and deep features, thick eyebrows and big eyes, and a rather respectable appearance.
Fu Jingyuan, unaware of Rong Xiang's thoughts, wiped his glasses, put them back on, and immediately transformed back into a refined gentleman.
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