chapter 3
Chapter 3
Wu Ai’s goal was simple: first, to earn a useful identity through hard work; then, to use that identity to achieve his initial capital accumulation; and finally, to inherit his mother’s company and break into a larger market.
Madam Zhang’s words sounded sarcastic, but in reality, she was assigning him a task, guiding Wu Ai forward.
When he arrived at the entrance of OASIS bar, the neon sign’s light happened to fall on Wu Ai’s wind-chilled, reddened face.
He pushed open the door, and a blast of cold air mixed with drifting music rushed out to greet him. Behind the bar, Old Xin was wiping glasses.
“Weren’t you supposed to have an exam today? What brings you here at this hour?”
Old Xin’s voice was a bit hoarse, a mark of years spent in smoke and alcohol, yet it carried a familiar warmth.
Wu Ai set his guitar case on the bar and tapped the counter with his fingertips. “Did pretty well on the exam. Came over to earn some rent.”
“That’s great!”
Old Xin’s eyes lit up, and the glass in his hand clinked loudly against the bar.
“Now our bar can boast a university student as a Resident Singer. When you get into the Communication University of China, I’ll hang your photo on the wall as our signature!”
Wu Ai waved his hand and smiled as he walked toward the stage. “Don’t jinx it. Let’s wait until I get the admission letter.”
The microphone on stage was still warm. He tuned his guitar, cleared his throat, and glanced over the audience.
A few scattered customers sat at tables, most of them chatting quietly. The atmosphere was relaxed.
For the first song, he chose JJ Lin’s “Jiangnan.” As the familiar melody began, even those who had been looking down at their phones raised their heads.
His voice was even purer than in recordings, carrying a youthful clarity. Applause erupted from the audience, and some guests even waved money, wanting to tip him.
Suddenly, someone in the corner shouted, “Great song! Sing another!”
Wu Ai looked up and met a pair of smiling eyes.
The girl wore a denim jacket and had her hair in a high ponytail. She waved at him, a glass of untouched soda water sitting on the table.
After singing two more folk songs, Wu Ai stepped off the stage.
As soon as he reached the bar, Chen Qi handed him a glass of iced cola, the tab already pulled for him.
“Qi-jie, what brings you here?” Wu Ai took the cola and took a sip, the cold stinging his teeth.
“Your mom asked me to keep an eye on you. I figured you’d be here.”
Chen Qi raised an eyebrow, her tone teasing. “How old are you now, still sulking at home like a kid.”
Wu Ai rubbed his nose, a bit embarrassed, and only then noticed the girl sitting next to Chen Qi.
The girl wore a black trench coat and was tall-about 172 centimeters, he guessed. She only looked up when she heard the commotion.
Her features were as delicate as a painting, her eyes bright as if filled with running water. Naturally long lashes cast faint shadows beneath her eyes, and beneath her elegant nose was a cherry-like mouth.
“Oh right, let me introduce you to a friend.”
Chen Qi tugged the girl’s arm. “Shi Xian, my best friend from high school.”
Hearing her name, Shi Xian trembled slightly and spoke softly, “Hello, I’m Shi Xian.”
“Hello, I’m Wu Ai.”
Wu Ai quickly reached out his hand. When his fingertips touched hers, he felt only a chill.
“Haven’t we… met somewhere before?”
He felt these eyes were familiar, but no matter how he searched his memory, he couldn’t find the matching scene.
Shi Xian’s face flushed instantly. She quickly withdrew her hand and stared down at the buttons on her coat.
“Maybe. Perhaps we ran into each other somewhere.”
“Alright, alright, no need for an interrogation.”
Chen Qi, seeing everything clearly from the side, laughed and smoothed things over.
“Shi Xian is a good girl, don’t bully her. She’s two years older than you, so you should call her ‘big sister.'”
Wu Ai scratched his head, looking even more awkward. “I just thought you looked familiar, that’s all.”
“Alright, we just came to see you. We won’t keep you from work.”
Chen Qi smiled, glanced at her phone, and said, “Go home early, stay safe.”
Saying that, she pulled Shi Xian up, waved to Wu Ai, and turned to walk out of the bar.
As soon as they pushed open the bar door, a gust of cold wind swept in.
“So, what do you think? My childhood friend isn’t bad, right?”
Chen Qi tightened her coat and turned to ask Shi Xian, “He’s handsome, sings well, just a bit stubborn sometimes.”
Wu Ai’s looks were above average. He inherited height from Old Wu (180 cm) and Madam Zhang (170 cm), and he reached 185 cm early on.
He had a relaxed, unruly air, and naturally carried a hint of roguish charm – a high, straight nose and well-defined lips.
Shi Xian nodded without speaking, but her ears turned quietly red and her fingers unconsciously twisted the hem of her trench coat.
“I’m telling you, I’ve watched Wu Ai grow up,” Chen Qi continued, getting more enthusiastic. “You can talk with him sometimes. Who knows, maybe you’ll really get along.”
“I don’t think so,” Shi Xian quickly lowered her head. “I still have to prepare for IELTS. I don’t have time…”
That was what she said, but her heart was pounding.
Back home, Shi Xian changed her shoes and hurried to the kitchen, excitement written all over her face.
“What’s wrong, Xian?”
Shi Xian’s mother, who was making soup, was startled, almost dropping the ladle into the pot.
“Why are you in such a rush? Did something happen?”
Shi Xian grabbed her mother’s arm, her eyes shining brightly.
“I just… I just saw Wu Ai!”
Her mother’s hand paused, and it took a few seconds for her to react.
“I can’t believe it… After all these years, you two actually ran into each other again. Does he… still remember you?”
Shi Xian’s shoulders slumped at once and she gently shook her head. “He asked if we’d met before, but I didn’t dare say… It seems like he doesn’t remember me anymore.”
“Well, it’s been so many years. You two were just kids back then.”
Her mother sighed and patted her head. “It’s alright. If it’s meant to be, you’ll get to know each other again.”
Meanwhile, Wu Ai didn’t finish his resident singer gig until eleven o’clock.
“You did well today. The customers all praised you.”
Old Xin handed him four hundred yuan in cash, hesitated a moment, then added another two hundred and tucked a pack of cigarettes in as well.
“Take these, the cigarettes will help you relax.”
Wu Ai took the money, holding it in his hand.
His student status at Media University clearly paid off. Old Xin knew college students were hard to find and wanted to give him a little extra to keep him around.
His daily wage rose from 400 to 600 yuan thanks to a student premium – the first step in his plan to earn more.
“Thanks.”
Wu Ai thanked him, stuffed the money into his pocket, and strolled back to his apartment at Sanlitun SOHO with his guitar slung over his back.
The room was pitch dark, with only a bit of light from the streetlamp outside filtering in. He collapsed onto the bed, rolled over, and fell asleep.
Life as a resident singer was a kind of interesting monotony, but the now-familiar figure in the audience seemed to give it all a different meaning.
Shi Xian always sat in the corner, ordered a cup of hot milk, listened quietly to his singing, and then slipped away without ever saying a word to him.
Until the fifth night, just after Wu Ai finished singing “If Love Is Forgotten” on stage, a sudden commotion broke out below.
“What’s wrong with having a drink with your brother? Why pretend to be so pure!”