Rebirth of Chinese Entertainment, the Diary of a 95 Flower

Chapter 152 I am no longer the person I used to be
Invite Zhao Jinmai and Yang Chaoyue into the living room and have them sit down.

Yang Chaoyue slowly sat down on the leather sofa, wearing the new slippers that Jiang's mother had prepared for her.

Even though I know I'm a guest, this is Yang Ge's house.

I was still a little reserved.

With her hands on her knees, she listened to Zhao Jinmai and Jiang Yueyue chatting beside her. She exchanged a few polite words with Jiang's mother and only gradually relaxed after seeing Jiang's mother return to the kitchen.

His stiff back relaxed as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze sweeping over Yang Ge's house.

It's a large single-level apartment, with a living room that's about 90 square meters, which is about the size of my old home in Yancheng.

The interior design style is a mix of modern Chinese and light luxury.

Rosewood furniture paired with Italian leather sofas.

Behind the ink-wash screen at the entrance is a temperature-controlled wine cabinet.

The floor was warm; Yang Chaoyue knew it was underfloor heating throughout the house.

The seven-meter-long balcony is enclosed with double-glazed windows to prevent noise.

Behind the large-screen LCD TV in the living room is a natural marble feature wall.

There was no main light visible; the speakers were recessed into the ceiling.

The layout is four bedrooms and two living rooms.

I was so nervous when I arrived that I drank a lot of water and went to the restroom.

I noticed that the towel racks in the bathroom are all electrically heated.

No wonder Yang said he felt embarrassed using a smart toilet to wash his bottom in the hotel suite the film crew booked.

It turns out that Yang Ge's toilet was also simple and unpretentious.

Yang Chaoyue didn't go to see the master bedroom and the side bedroom; that would be impolite.

It goes without saying that the renovation is definitely much better than the room in my hometown of Yancheng.

When I first met Yang Ge, I thought that Jiang Yang was like me, from a poor family, so he dropped out of school to work and support himself, and used the extra money to help support his family.

He soon realized that Yang Ge and he were from completely different worlds.

Order without looking at the price; just choose the recommended dishes at the restaurant.

They don't try to please others, nor are they afraid of offending people.

He interacted with people on set and made natural use of his connections and resources.

They never mention that they know anyone.

But I always felt that Brother Yang must have a wide network of connections.

Before coming here, I thought that Yang Ge's family would be well-off, but I didn't expect it to be this well-off.

No wonder Yang Ge didn't care at all about the luxurious decor in his high-end hotel suites in Shanghai and Beijing; he was the only one who felt constrained.

It turns out that Yang Ge has lived in such an environment since he was a child.

Suddenly I realized that people really can't be compared.

For some people, their birth is already the end of their efforts.

"Chaoyue, what are you doing in the bathroom? It's been going on for ages!" Zhao Jinmai's thick Northeastern accent rang out from the living room: "Come and see! Yang's sister made a sparrow out of toilet paper, it's so funny!"

Zhao Jinmai interrupted Yang Chaoyue's thoughts: "Alright, coming."

I pushed open the bathroom door and came out.

I went to the sink and washed my face with warm water.

I'm really prone to being sentimental, so I need to be more composed and not let others see my emotions at a glance.

As I splash water on my face, my breathing becomes shallow, my fingers tremble slightly, and I try to dispel the distracting thoughts in my mind, gradually clearing my head.

I lowered my head and closed my eyes, my eyelashes glistening with water droplets. As I slowly opened my eyes, I inadvertently glanced at the mirror and then suddenly froze.

As if struck by something, his shoulders tensed slightly.

His pupils dilated, he bent over, and looked up at the mirror in front of him.

Across from me was a girl who looked completely unfamiliar at first glance.

The other person had long hair, wore a gray-blue textile factory uniform, had a sallow complexion and dry skin, was also washing his face at the sink, had an old Nokia flip phone next to him, and was looking up at Yang Chaoyue.

His eyes were tired and numb. There were lint-like fibers stuck in his hair.

Behind him were rusty water pipes from the textile factory dormitory.

An old wooden door with a creaking bolt that makes a groaning sound when pulled.

On the plastic shelf were a poor-quality Clé de Peau Beauté facial cleanser and Bee & Flower hair conditioner.

Three beige tiles have fallen off.

Yang Chaoyue held his breath, his face covered in water droplets, and his throat tightened.

The image in the mirror is of myself two years ago, washing up in the bathroom of the textile factory dormitory.

Yet it doesn't feel like myself.

Strange and familiar.

I can almost smell the machine oil from the textile factory in my memory, my roommate's laughter, and the hawkers' cries on the street.

Two faces in the mirror gaze at each other across time.

One is filled with exhaustion, the other with ambition.

Yang Chaoyue raised his hand to wipe away the water droplets on his eyelashes, and his vision immediately became clear.

When wiping her face, she wiped away not only water droplets, but also the girl who would feel sorry for a ten-yuan boxed lunch.

As the bent spine lifts up.

The dry hair in the mirror became smooth, the sallow complexion became fair, and the gray textile factory uniform was transformed into an expensive Versace fur-trimmed coat.

Long hair became short hair.

The phone has changed from an old Nokia flip phone to the latest iPhone 6.

The numb and tired eyes became clear and bright, full of hope for the future.

At university job fairs, a single glance can make a job seeker's throat tighten and their words become incoherent.

"I'm not the same person I used to be," Yang Chaoyue muttered to himself in a whisper that only he could hear.

I don't want to live that kind of life anymore, where I feel powerless to change anything and just drift along.

You can't decide your own birth, but you can decide the birth of your child.

We will try our best to make sure that Dad can live in a big house like Yang Ge's house in the future.

To give my child the same starting point as Yang Ge.

If you can't become a second-generation rich kid, you can become a first-generation rich kid.

Yang Ge gave himself a chance not only to change his own destiny, but also to hope that he could change the social class of his descendants.

Genuine leather sofas won't hurt your bones; a life of comfort doesn't require practicing endurance.

and so.

We must keep up with Yang Ge's pace!

If we could go back in time, and experience once again, in that Mercedes-Benz, Li Nuo voluntarily gave him a contract worth 10 yuan, forcing him to give up the role he was supposed to play.

I won't struggle to refuse like I did before.

Instead, he would first shamelessly ask Li Nuo for her autograph, then take the agreement away and hand it over to Brother Yang.

I rubbed my eyes, and something trickled down my cheek.

It was the innocence of two years ago.

The innocence wasn't lost, it was just left forever in the textile factory dormitory, exchanged for a bargaining chip for survival.

A bitter smile appeared on his lips.

There's no time for nostalgia; it's time to put those old dreams of the textile factory dormitory behind us.

"Chaoyue, what are you doing here?" Jiang Yang came in from outside, wearing cotton slippers, and noticed that Yang Chaoyue was staring blankly at the mirror with his eyes a little red.

His face was covered in water droplets.

Something doesn't seem right.

(End of this chapter)