FIG CHAPTER 39

During the few days that Tan Qing was sick and resting in the dorm, the relationship between the two of them eased a little. Out of all the throat lozenges, Tan Qing only ate a few; the rest ended up with Zhu Lianzhen.

That morning, Zhu Lianzhen was half-asleep when he heard some noise outside. Thinking it was already time for class, he groggily got up, only to see that it was just seven o’clock.

“Why are you up so early?” Zhu Lianzhen’s voice was still drowsy as he poked his head out the door.

Tan Qing was putting on his jacket. “Going to practice dancing. You can keep sleeping.”

“Didn’t your fever just go down yesterday? Take another day off.”

“The teacher’s checking our progress at the end of the month. I’d better catch up to you guys as soon as possible.”

Zhu Lianzhen hadn’t stretched his limbs in days and was feeling a bit stiff. After thinking it over, he decided to go with Tan Qing.

Tan Qing had the center position in the chorus of their title track. At first, Zhu Lianzhen had held a grudge against him for taking Ji Yunting’s spot, but after watching him recently, he had to admit that Tan Qing really did have a unique talent for conveying subtle facial expressions. No wonder the company had been willing to disrupt their debut plans just to squeeze him in.

Wrapped in a down jacket, Zhu Lianzhen sat in the corner, watching Tan Qing repeat the same moves over and over, occasionally offering corrections on the details.

When Tan Qing was worn out, Zhu Lianzhen tossed him a bottle of water and asked, “Whose performances do you usually like to watch?”

Tan Qing looked at him in silence and took a sip of water.

Zhu Lianzhen sighed helplessly, realizing that Tan Qing hadn’t understood the question. In other words, he simply had no interest in idol performances and didn’t know how to answer.

Zhu Lianzhen: “Since you don’t even like this industry, there’s no real need for you to debut as an idol. Maybe trying out for a drama would get you famous even faster.”

“Wouldn’t I still have to learn everything from scratch to be an actor?” Tan Qing replied. “And I’m not doing this to become famous.”

If he didn’t like it and wasn’t doing it for fame, then what was it for? Just for money? That kind of straightforward ambition was common, but without any other driving force, Zhu Lianzhen thought people like that were likely to leave the group once they got what they wanted and go chase something else.

Ever since the boy group C.A.N disbanded, no idol group had managed to break into the international scene again. It wasn’t for lack of talent, but most groups were short-lived, releasing a few songs before jumping into quick-buck dramas or variety shows. Very few artists still had the will to devote themselves to the stage.

Zhu Lianzhen didn’t want his group to end up the same way.

Tan Qing walked over and bent down to set the bottle of water on the floor. “You seem to have always minded my attitude toward this job.”

“Mm.” Zhu Lianzhen didn’t bother to sugarcoat it.

Tan Qing sat in silence for a few seconds, then sat down beside him and said, “Does it really matter whether I like it or not?”

Zhu Lianzhen responded matter-of-factly, “You can only do it well if you like it.”

“You can still do it even if you don’t,” Tan Qing replied. “As long as you master the skills and put in the effort, even without liking it, you can still get the best results.”

Zhu Lianzhen couldn’t argue with that. The logic was sound, but he had always cared more about enjoying the process than the outcome and rarely stuck with things he didn’t like.

Without passion, could effort alone really take someone far?

Tan Qing seemed to sense his doubt. He turned his head with a soft chuckle and didn’t explain further, instead choosing to go along with his words. “Alright, I’ll try to like it.”

In a group where communication often turned into conflict, no other member compromised as easily as Tan Qing. Zhu Lianzhen wasn’t quite used to it, but in the end, he felt reassured.

Once Tan Qing had mastered the choreography for their first title track, it was time for the cameras to come in. They had to meticulously refine their positioning, expressions, posture… Any small flaw would be magnified on screen, so they repeated everything over and over until every member’s performance was flawless.

At the year-end banquet of Zuige Entertainment, they were given a chance to perform. Many producers and company artists were present to witness the results of their training.

The response was overwhelmingly positive. Some senior artists even approached them for photos, saying their future looked incredibly promising. One of them, a former member of the boy group C.A.N, gifted Zhu Lianzhen a bracelet he had worn for years. It was his lucky charm, and he hoped it would bring good fortune to this kid who loved dancing.

On the flight back to Shanghai for the New Year, Zhu Lianzhen watched a recording of their performance on his laptop. The event’s dedicated cameras were steady and clear, and the transitions between shots enhanced the stage effect.

With his headphones blocking out the cabin noise, Zhu Lianzhen was fully focused. As the music reached the chorus, Tan Qing became the focal point on screen.

Zhu Lianzhen’s heart seemed to skip a beat. The plane hit a patch of clear-air turbulence, and the sudden weightlessness made his pulse quicken.

Only after the plane steadied again did he resume watching the footage. During the chorus, every member’s explosive energy and range of movement were perfectly synchronized. Any paused frame was visually striking. Their positioning was razor-sharp. Without mirrors on stage, they had relied entirely on muscle memory to hit every mark.

But it wasn’t just those technical details that stirred Zhu Lianzhen.

There were many types of idols on stage—clean-cut, cool, sexy, cute. But the most captivating trait of all was the confidence that radiated from within.

Zhu Lianzhen couldn’t quite place Tan Qing into any one category.

He wasn’t like Zhu Lianzhen, who had a desire to command the stage, nor like Fu Rong, who simply went through the motions. Tan Qing was indeed performing, but it felt more like he was performing the idea of what a qualified idol should be.

Effortless. Perfect.

Zhu Lianzhen hadn’t expected that, despite having no desire to interact with Tan Qing privately, he now couldn’t tear his eyes away from the footage.

—Does it really matter whether he likes it or not?

In Zhu Lianzhen’s view, a person shone the brightest when they poured their heart into something they loved.

But now, he realized that effort alone could also make someone shine. Maybe Tan Qing really could do what he said: achieve the best results even without enjoying it, as long as he gave it his all.

–

Zhu Lianzhen didn’t have a very pleasant New Year at home.

The businesses under Zhu Kaiping’s name had always focused on real estate development, but last year, two new companies tied to the entertainment industry had suddenly appeared. Zhu Lianzhen had overheard a conversation between his father and an assistant and learned about it by accident. He didn’t need to ask—he already knew it had something to do with him.

He was set to debut by the end of the year, so it wasn’t unreasonable for his parents to prepare in advance. But Zhu Lianzhen didn’t want them interfering too much in his life.

“I’ve said it so many times! I don’t need you to pave the way for me in everything. Your ideas don’t represent mine,” he protested, slamming his chopsticks on the table. “Since I chose this path, how far I go should be up to me!”

Zhu Kaiping had only taken half a sip of his drink before setting the glass down and scoffing, “Up to you? Bold words. In all these years, have you ever really relied on yourself?”

Though upset, Zhu Lianzhen still held a sense of deference to his elders. He could only fall silent under his father’s gaze.

“You wanted to learn dance, and we found you the best teachers. You wanted to compete, and first-class tickets were always ready. You’ve lived in luxury since birth, never lacking a single comfort. You haven’t even made a name for yourself yet, and you dare say you don’t need us?”

Tang Wen frowned, her expression unusually stern, and said to Zhu Kaiping, “That’s enough.”

Zhu Kaiping let it go, no longer bothering to address Zhu Lianzhen’s small act of defiance.

It was New Year’s Eve, after all. Both father and son knew better than to escalate things, and dinner ended without further conflict.

That night, Zhu Lianzhen stood alone on the balcony of his bedroom, watching the New Year light show on the Bund.

The world outside was full of celebration, yet he stood there in dejection.

Because of what his father had said, his face still felt as if it were burning. It took him a long time to realize it was his pride that had been wounded.

And because his father had spoken the truth, the shame and anger he felt were eventually overwhelmed by guilt.

Yes, the reason he dared to nitpick his current situation was because he had been too fortunate, had too much.

But were worries really something to be compared? Just because he was luckier than most people in the world, did that mean his frustration didn’t deserve to be voiced?

Zhu Lianzhen didn’t want to compare himself with anyone, especially not by setting other people’s ordinary or unfortunate lives against his own just to conclude that he was blessed. That didn’t make him feel content or grateful; it only made him feel worse.

There were two light knocks at the door, and Zhu Lianzhen said, “Come in.”

His mother pushed the door open slightly, her face peeking through the gap.

Zhu Lianzhen was amused by her cautious approach and stepped away from the balcony. “Come on in.”

Tang Wen had come to coax him, worried he was still sulking over what his father had said. But Zhu Lianzhen thought she was worrying too much. After all, he was about to enter the entertainment industry; he wasn’t so fragile that he couldn’t handle criticism.

Besides, he understood that his father had struggled at the bottom of society when he was young and had endured more than his fair share of hardship. The way he doted on his son a little excessively now almost seemed like a way of compensating for his own past.

Tang Wen smiled at him. “We don’t want to interfere. Of course we trust you. But this industry is complicated, and we’re just afraid you’ll be bullied in the future.”

“I know.” Zhu Lianzhen had no choice but to be obedient in front of his mother, and his tone naturally softened. “If I need help, I’ll tell you… but there are some things I have to handle on my own.”

Tang Wen nodded in understanding and smiled as she pinched his cheek.

 

On the third day of the Lunar New Year, Zhu Lianzhen returned to Ronggang alone.

He wanted to avoid the Tang family’s New Year gathering. What era was this, and yet the elders still clung to those tedious formalities? Zhu Lianzhen had no interest in putting on a show for them. He had never felt any pride in being born into a prominent family. That sort of thing was better left to his cousins.

Standing outside the dormitory, Zhu Lianzhen spaced out.

He remembered he hadn’t taken his keys with him when he left a few days ago.

The spare key seemed to be with Pei-jie. He could call a locksmith, but it was the holidays, and no one was likely working during all the family visits.

Just as he was stressing over this, Zhu Lianzhen heard the sound of the lock turning from inside the door, and his alertness suddenly spiked.

A second later, the door opened, and he found himself face-to-face with Tan Qing.

Tan Qing was wearing winter pajamas, completely at ease. Zhu Lianzhen was surprised to see he was still in the dormitory over the break and casually asked, “You didn’t go home?”

“Doesn’t matter whether I go or not,” Tan Qing replied indifferently.

By now, Tan Qing had been in the group for quite a while, yet Zhu Lianzhen still didn’t know anything about his family background.

From his manner and speech, it was clear that his upbringing had been good, perhaps even too good. Even when dealing with teammates who were experts at getting on people’s nerves, he had never once lost his temper. That unshakable composure inevitably made Zhu Lianzhen feel there was something a little fake about him.

However, after seeing Tan Qing’s impressive performance on stage, Zhu Lianzhen felt it was about time to accept the new member. What did personality matter, anyway? As long as he didn’t drag the team down, he was a good teammate.

Zhu Lianzhen had only eaten a few bites of airplane food that day, and now he was starving. “Is there anything to eat?”

Tan Qing: “How about noodles?”

Zhu Lianzhen shook his head. “Dumplings. I hardly had any at home.”

As he spoke, he began scrolling through his phone, calling nearby restaurants one by one. Unfortunately, most were closed for the New Year holidays, and the few that were still open weren’t willing to deliver just a single order of dumplings.

He set down his phone with a sigh of regret.

Tan Qing glanced at him. “Craving them that much?”

Zhu Lianzhen nodded.

“Then let’s make some,” Tan Qing said, heading into the kitchen to wash his hands.

There were fresh ingredients in the fridge that Tan Qing had picked up the morning before. After thinking it over, Zhu Lianzhen decided on a celery and beef filling.

Tan Qing tied on an apron and pulled out the necessary tools and ingredients. Zhu Lianzhen hovered nearby, wanting to help but not knowing where to begin, so he simply observed for the time being.

Tan Qing mixed flour with water and began kneading the dough into shape. Then came the step of strengthening the dough. He turned to glance at Zhu Lianzhen.

“Want to take over this part?” he asked.

Without hesitation, Zhu Lianzhen nodded. Since he was the one who requested dumplings, it wouldn’t feel right to sit back and do nothing. Tan Qing handed him a new pair of gloves and said, “Work the dough until it gains strength. Let me know when it’s almost there.”

“Okay.” Zhu Lianzhen calmly put on the gloves, but as soon as his fingers sank into the soft dough, a question surfaced: What exactly did it mean for dough to “gain strength”?

And how would he know when it was “almost there”?

Tan Qing had already left the kitchen, and Zhu Lianzhen felt too embarrassed to call him back for a demonstration. So, he tried to reason it out from the words alone.

Strength = Force.

Gain strength = Apply force?

Half-convinced, he raised his fist and punched the dough.

The texture… it seemed like he was on the right track!

So, Zhu Lianzhen began throwing left and right hooks at the dough, punching away like he’d stumbled upon a new method of stress relief. His mood inexplicably improved.

“Hyah hyah hyah!” Zhu Lianzhen quietly added his own sound effects. “Prepare to die!”

He was so absorbed in the scene he’d created that he didn’t notice Tan Qing standing silently behind him, watching the whole spectacle. After observing for a while, Tan Qing finally spoke, unable to hold back.

“Did it do something to offend you?”

Zhu Lianzhen jumped in surprise.

“Huh? Didn’t you say the dough needed a beating?”

“I said to knead it.”

“Oh…” Zhu Lianzhen looked down at the dough. “Was my method wrong?”

Tan Qing chuckled and went to retrieve another pair of gloves. “I’ll take care of the rest. You chop the celery.”

Zhu Lianzhen: “Should I chop it really fine?”

Tan Qing nodded, but after glancing at how Zhu Lianzhen was holding the knife, he changed his mind. “Forget it. Go wash the strawberries.”

Zhu Lianzhen looked surprised. “You’re putting strawberries in the filling? What kind of weird flavor combo is that?!”

“…” Tan Qing stared at him. “Wash them and just eat them.”

“Oh, I misunderstood.” Zhu Lianzhen realized Tan Qing just wanted to send him away, probably because there wasn’t anything he could help with.

Before leaving, Zhu Lianzhen tore off a piece of dough to play with, shaping it into a tiny hedgehog.

Kneading the dough, mixing the filling, folding the dumplings, boiling them… Tan Qing handled everything skillfully. It didn’t take long before he served a plate of dumplings on the table.

Zhu Lianzhen didn’t even bother dipping them in vinegar. He quickly ate two, just to fill his stomach a bit.

The TV had been on the whole time, replaying this year’s Spring Festival Gala, but neither of them was watching. It was just there to add a bit of liveliness to the atmosphere.

While eating, Zhu Lianzhen asked, “Have you not gone home at all since the start of the holiday, or did you just get back recently?”

Tan Qing: “I’ve been here the whole time.”

Zhu Lianzhen guessed he might have had a conflict with his family, or maybe his family just didn’t care. In Zhu Lianzhen’s circle of friends, situations like that were pretty common.

“Do you have winter break homework?” Zhu Lianzhen asked.

“I already finished it.”

Zhu Lianzhen hadn’t even started his yet. He planned to rush through it in the last few days before school started.

After eating and resting for a while, Zhu Lianzhen saw that it was already dark outside. He pointed to the plastic bag by the door. “I bought fireworks.”

Tan Qing turned off the TV and went to put on his coat.

One thing Zhu Lianzhen had noticed about Tan Qing was that he was obedient. He knew it wasn’t exactly a flattering way to describe someone, but he couldn’t think of a more fitting word.

If it had been any of his other teammates, whether it was about eating dumplings or setting off fireworks, they would’ve insisted on voicing their own opinions first. Everyone was self-centered like that, and conflicts over trivial things happened all the time.

Tan Qing, on the other hand, prioritized going along with other people’s choices. Zhu Lianzhen didn’t know if that was his way of protecting himself in a new environment or if it was just his personality.

There wasn’t a suitable place to set off fireworks inside the company grounds, so Tan Qing took him outside and found an empty plot of land. There were no flowers, grass, or trees nearby, so it was relatively safe.

Zhu Lianzhen had bought three kinds of fireworks. First, they set off the “smoke bomb.” After lighting it, they waited for a long time, but only a little puff of colorful smoke came out. It was basically a dud.

Next was the “parachute” firework. The two of them tilted their heads up, waiting for it to fall back down, but a gust of wind blew it straight out of sight.

“Sigh.” Zhu Lianzhen felt disappointed. Luckily, there was still a big bundle of sparklers left, which were fun. He picked them up and split them evenly with Tan Qing.

Unlike Zhu Lianzhen, who waved both hands in circles through the air, Tan Qing didn’t show much interest in the fireworks. He simply held the sparkler, watching it burn out, leaving behind faint wisps of smoke.

Zhu Lianzhen noticed his calmness and thought maybe this kind of thing was too childish for Tan Qing, so he suggested going to buy a confetti cannon.

“At this hour, the stalls are probably all closed,” Tan Qing said. “If you want to set one off, you can wait until tomorrow.”

Zhu Lianzhen shook his head. “These past couple of days, fireworks have been everywhere back home. I’ve seen enough.”

“So that’s why you didn’t stay there any longer?” Tan Qing asked.

“Not exactly. No way it’d be just because of that,” Zhu Lianzhen replied. “There’s not much I can say to my family, and I still have to visit relatives for New Year’s greetings. It’s kind of annoying, so I just wanted to come back here and have some quiet time alone.”

The sparkler in Tan Qing’s hand burned out. When Zhu Lianzhen handed him the lighter, he heard Tan Qing say, “I’m sorry.”

“Hm?”

Tan Qing smiled faintly, his voice carrying a hint of guilt. “Originally, you could’ve enjoyed some peace and quiet after coming back. You didn’t expect me to still be here. I must be in the way, right?”

“Not at all,” Zhu Lianzhen denied.

“It’s fine. You can be honest with me.” Tan Qing held the lighter but didn’t light another sparkler. “When you first walked in, I could tell you weren’t in a good mood. If you need me to leave for a while, just say so. It wouldn’t be an unreasonable request.”

Zhu Lianzhen hurriedly said, “I didn’t think you were in the way! I was in a bad mood because I was hungry… and then you made dumplings for me.”

After saying that, he added in a very quiet voice, “Thanks.”

Tan Qing glanced at him. “But you still don’t look happy.”

Really? Zhu Lianzhen hadn’t realized what kind of face he was making. Maybe he did look that way. Pei Qiao always said his emotions were written all over his face. It was a habit he should fix.

“Since it’s the New Year, if you have worries, it’s better to try to say them out loud. Think of it as a way to leave the old behind and welcome the new.” Tan Qing lit a sparkler and added with a small sound, “Ah, sorry, I don’t mean to pry into your private matters. I just hope you can feel a bit more at ease, maybe talk to your friends about it.”

Zhu Lianzhen pressed his lips together.

He had a lot of friends. Given how popular he was, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say he could summon a crowd with a single call. But as for people who truly understood him or resonated with him? It felt like there wasn’t a single one.

Zhu Lianzhen slowly turned the sparkler in his hand. “Forget it. The things that trouble me would probably seem like trivial stuff to others. If I started complaining, they’d just think I’m being dramatic.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“How is that good…” Zhu Lianzhen frowned.

“The things that trouble you are all small things. If the problems that bother you are always simple, that means there aren’t any bigger troubles making things difficult for you. Isn’t that a good thing?”

As soon as Tan Qing finished speaking, the sparklers in both their hands went out one after the other, and silence fell around them.

Zhu Lianzhen froze for a moment, his lips slightly parted, not knowing how to respond.

Yeah, thinking about it from this perspective, it really was a good thing.

But at this point in his life, Zhu Lianzhen still didn’t understand what it truly meant to be “carefree.”

A teenage boy, sheltered and pampered, still had plenty of free time and the confidence to be different. He absorbed an endless stream of nourishment, instinctively longing for independence.

“Doesn’t that just mean I haven’t grown up?” Zhu Lianzhen said.

Perhaps all young people were like overconfident flowers, thinking that as long as they escaped the greenhouse, they could become unshakable stones in a storm.

Tan Qing chuckled, reached out to light a new sparkler for him, and said in a low voice, “It’s good if you don’t grow up.”

One sparkler after another burned away. Zhu Lianzhen grew a little impatient and simply lit the last small bundle all at once.

A large burst of flame flared up in front of his hand, dazzlingly bright, so he turned his face away.

His gaze landed on Tan Qing’s face not out of intention, but simply because the other happened to be looking at him too, and so Zhu Lianzhen forgot to look away.

In that moment, he seemed to realise that Tan Qing was different from anyone he had ever met, different even from the person he used to find annoying.

Yet before this subtle feeling could take shape, it had already vanished in the glow of the fireworks.