CH 2.1

He obviously had not said anything, so why was she feeling a little sad?

Presented with this sort of answer that had been interjected with several successive pauses, even the host could not help feeling cross—cross that this popular idol artiste really was not giving her due respect, not saying even one extra word.

In the end, the host also pulled one over on him. “Have you ever heard of the term ‘hand-obssessed[1]’?”

Jian Bianlin frowned, seeming not to understand. “What does that mean?”

The host stretched out her right hand. “It means to like nice-looking hands. Your agent has never told you before that screenshots are frequently taken of your hand and then forwarded around crazily on the internet? Ah, well, of course, there’s also the side view of your face—the perfect side profile,” the host teased him with a grin.

Jian Bianlin had returned to his normal manner by now, his expression impassive as he lowered his head to glance at his own hands.

The host immediately instructed, “Quick, camera, do a close-up of his hand.” The camera shifted its focus over. The fingers of Jian Bianlin’s left hand were long and slender, their bone structure clearly defined, yet not overly prominent, and their look was clean, with only a black metal ring on his little finger.

“This, here, is the focal point.” The host gave a long exhale. “From the moment he walked in, I noticed that he was wearing the ring there. Everyone, your idol is still single. Hey, hey, that wasn’t easy. I finally was able to dig something up on him.”

He lowered his eyes, wordlessly turning that ring on his little finger.

The remainder of the show was all the routine, publicity type of stuff.

The girl who was organizing items with her was watching the interview unblinkingly, practically a model example of a diehard fan. “Our Baby is the icy and dignified type. All of him emits this feeling of self-restraint and abstinence that makes you want to press him down beneath you.”

“……” Chu Jian felt a little awkward and began to muse over whether she should discuss with Tong Fei that her staff, as employees of a veteran talent agent, should be a little more immune to all the things of the entertainment industry.

She had not even pondered on this for more than a few seconds, though, before the young girl was clasping the inventory logbook against her chest. “Oh my God…”

In the final minute before the interview concluded, that person sitting on the couch proceeded according to the program plan and gave a surprise, post-program bonus to the audience. As he rose to his feet, he picked up the black baseball cap that had been beside him, put it on, and then also pulled up the hood of his hoodie, slipping it over the cap.

Suddenly, dance music began playing. All the people present became veiled in the lighting that had grown dim, leaving only the single black figure on the stage.

The background music was Drunk In Love, which had been remixed with a dance beat.

He actually would…

Someone gave an untimely cough. It was Tong Fei.

At the same time, a tall figure stepped into the room and removed the black, surgical-style face mask that had been used to conceal more than half his face. “You can’t wear slippers in here?”

When Jian Bianlin said this, he walked barefoot into the room one step at a time, his eyes surveying around.

Jian Bianlin?

That girl spun around rapidly, gawking in disbelief at the man standing near the door of the room. “Oh my God… Oh my God… My Baby! Ah, no! J-Jian, Jian Bianlin, Jian Bianlin…” the girl stammered, her complexion changing from extremely pale to extremely red. She had completely lost her head from the shock. She completely did not know how she should respond. And she completely was demonstrating a real-life reaction of a hardcore fan—one of those who searched day and night for information on their idol and, for him, would duke it out with people, rig votes so he would get on top ranking lists, and edit countless videos to upload onto Bilibili[2]… Stupefied.

“Oh”—Tong Fei gave a dry laugh—“my apologies, my apologies. This intern of mine is your longtime diehard fan.”

The sound in the background was still going.

The air in this room was already starting to seem as if it was thinning.

Chu Jian let out a cough, then said in a quiet voice, “You don’t have enough stock here. Uh… or did I count incorrectly? Where’s that miniature die?”

Jian Bianlin walked up behind her. With a single glance, he spotted the little die that she had been fiddling with earlier and picked it up between his fingers. His arm circled around from behind her to place it in front of her eyes. For some reason, that miniature die pinched between his two fingers caused her to call up in her mind that picture that had been on the television earlier. Hand-obsessed…

Um, okay. Her mind was a little muddled. She had forgotten that she had already counted it.

Chu Jian tapped the shelf cube unit with her pen, indicating that he should set it in there, and then cast another glance at his hand.

The end result was that Jian Bianlin offered up his autograph, but the photograph with him was declined.

The young girl was, after all, his hardcore fan and did not complain at all or show any disappointment. His fans all knew his style and way of doing things. Aside from attending necessary work-related events or going to the set, the thing he most liked to do was disappear off the face of the earth.

No one was to care about what he was doing, where he was, or whom he was with.

Chu Jian surmised that this was the reason that all these years, she had not really regarded him as a celebrity.

It turned out Jian Bianlin had specifically rushed over here for no real important reason. He merely drove them back to Tong Fei’s apartment and did not even go upstairs before leaving again. The two security guards downstairs of the apartment building even rather nosily stretched their necks to catch a glimpse of the person inside the vehicle, which caused Chu Jian to feel all tense and fearful that he might be photographed and be adversely affected somehow…

Before he left, Jian Bianlian also told her that he would be flying to Vienna straightaway.

Chu Jian gauged the timing. It would approximately work out that by the time he returned, she would be back at home in Shanghai already. She breathed out secretly in relief.

But unexpectedly, three days later, something arose that brought the two of them together again.

Jian Bianlin’s father worked in a shipyard, and though he was about to retire, he still continued to diligently toil away. According to his father’s own words, he liked boats, and he liked making boats. It did not matter how much his son was earning; he just liked being a labouring commoner. However, it was also because of this that right before his retirement, an incident occurred. Jian Bianlin’s father fell from a nine-metre high metal scaffolding and, shortly after arriving at the hospital, was listed in critical condition.

An urgent phone call was made to the both of them.

The two were both still in Beijing. While she was still somewhat caught up panic, he had already set up all the arrangements for their trip back and booked the flight tickets. It was his agent who drove them to the airport. When the plane took off, she looked at him apprehensively and asked, “Jian Bianlin? Are you doing okay?”

He had been looking out the window. As he turned his head back, out of habit, he knit his brows together, not answering her.

This was possibly one of the seldom moments where his mind was unsettled.

And it was because he was feeling unsettled that he could not allow himself to speak, for fear that his mood would affect Chu Jian, who was there beside him, and cause her to be even more anxious and upset. Chu Jian’s greatest weak point was that she was overly compassionate and softhearted. She wished she could take everyone’s pain and suffering onto herself, and she would put herself too much in other people’s shoes.

But it was also because of this that all these years, he had never truly lost her.

Because she was too tenderhearted and too easily gave in.

“If you’re sad, how about you talk to me?” She did not dare speak too loudly. The flight attendant in the first class cabin had been looking in their direction the entire time.

He gave an “mm-hmm.” “What do you want to talk about?”

Huh? Me? Isn’t it, I’m the one keeping you company by talking to you? Chu Jian was somewhat bewildered. “Anything… I guess.”

After handing the menu with his selections checked off to the flight attendant, who was showing extreme interest in the two of them and had pricked up her ears to listen in, Jian Bianlin remarked, “That day I saw a flower arrangement in your home. I remember you’re allergic to pollen and never buy flowers?”

“Oh, the flower arrangement… My mom bought it.” Her eyes flitted away to look somewhere else.

“Your mom doesn’t like lilies.” Offhandedly ticking off the foods that she liked to eat as well, he once again handed the paper to the flight attendant while, in passing, saying to the attendant, “Thank you.”

“Oh, right. Right. I remembered wrong. A senior sister[3] [senior, female schoolmate] from my uni days brought that over. I was in Macau, remember, so she gave it to my mom. You say, my mom is kind of weird,” Chu Jian mumbled. “She obviously doesn’t like lilies herself, but she just had to go and arrange them in the vase. I’m guessing it was because I wasn’t at home those few days, and she wanted to satisfy some sort of itch that she had for flower arranging…”

“Senior sister? Why don’t you think about that again?”

Noticing the flight attendant looking hesitantly at him, he returned the gaze with an inquiring expression.

The flight attendant asked in a small voice, “Could I have your autograph?”

Jian Bianlin nodded. Normally, when he was out and about and encountered fans or such, even though he did not take photographs with anyone, he was not stingy about giving out autographs since, to a certain degree, he respected all ordinary people.

The flight attendant immediately handed over a pen and photograph of Jian Bianlin.

Holy smokes, she’s truly a fan. The notebook she carries on her has his picture sandwiched in it? Chu Jian was stunned.

Completely unperturbed by any of this, he removed the pen cap, spun the pen in a half-circle, and signed his name. “You’re done thinking?”

At this point, having eavesdropped on the entire conversation, the flight attendant was actually also beginning to eagerly await Chu Jian’s answer.

“… It was a senior brother[4] [senior, male schoolmate] who gave it to me.”

[1]手控 “shou kong.” Translated literally, this means “hand controlled.” In Chinese slang, to say you are “XX 控” or “XX controlled” means that you really, really like XX, often to the point of self-admitted obsession. To be a “shou kong” means that you are obsessed with nice-looking hands.

[2]B 站. This literally means “B Site” and is the nickname for 哔哩哔哩弹幕视频网, which goes by the English name, Bilibili (see bilibili.com). This is a Chinese video-sharing site with a characteristic feature where users can submit comments/subs that will show up in real-time on the video like a moving “bullet.”

[3]师姐 “shi jie.” This literally translates as “senior sister,” and here, it means “senior academic sister.” It is how you would address a senior, female fellow schoolmate.

[4]师兄 “shi xiong.” This literally translates as “senior brother,” and here, it means “senior academic brother.” It is how you would address a senior, male fellow schoolmate.