Huayu: Don't force me to be a master

When Qian Lang stood on the streets of Beijing again, it was early spring of 2003.

The wind was still the same, dry and cold, with the harshness of the north, feeling like a knife against my face.

Unlike the damp cold of the South that can seep into your bones, the cold in Beijing is crisp and refreshing, just like the men here.

His rented apartment is near the Beijing Film Academy, an old 40-square-meter house that he rented last year.

Pushing open the door, I saw a thin layer of dust inside.

Zhao Tong's things have been moved out; the wardrobe is half empty, and a note has been left on the table.

"Brother Lang, I'm going to Hengdian. Let's get together again sometime."

Qian Lang crumpled the note into a ball and threw it into the trash can.

It's okay to leave.

He sat on the bed and began to plan his business.

The first thing to do is start a company.

The money I earned on set over the past few months, the money from selling songs, and the 50 yuan given to me by Liu Xiaoli, add up to a considerable sum.

The problem is that none of this money was taxed.

I didn't feel it when I was on set, but back in Beijing, thinking about those news reports about tax audits, I get a chill down my spine.

In 2003, the tax system wasn't that strict, but what was bound to happen eventually did.

He has to defuse this mine.

However, before clearing the mines, there is something even more important to do.

Liu Tao lives in the Asian Games Village area.

On the morning of the ninth day, Qian Lang found Liu Tao's house according to the address.

It's a small one-bedroom apartment, kept very clean and tidy.

When Qian Lang arrived at her house, she was cooking noodles in the kitchen, wearing her pajamas. When she saw him at the door, she wasn't particularly surprised; she just smiled.

"You're here?"

"Um."

Have you eaten?

"without."

"That's perfect, I cooked too much."

"I'm busy!"

As Qian Lang spoke, he hugged Liu Tao from behind, who was about to walk towards the kitchen!

Serves you right for pretending!

Before long, Liu Tao was clinging to Qian Lang like an octopus.

And so, Qian Lang stayed at her house for three days.

For the past three days, the sky over Beijing has been overcast. The two of them stayed indoors, watching TV, chatting, cooking, and sleeping. Occasionally they would go downstairs to buy some groceries, and occasionally stand on the balcony for a while to look at the tall buildings in the distance.

The tomb of heroes in the land of gentle pleasures!

Qian Lang indulged in a few days of decadence.

On the third night, Qian Lang received a phone call.

The visitor identified herself as Huang Jinghua.

Big shot!

However, Qian Lang ignored her.

He drinks coffee, but isn't he just after his blood?

The other party also said that Hu Jun was the one who introduced them.

Hu Jun is nothing to him.

Liu Tao felt quite sorry for him, after all, that was Huang Jinghua.

On the fourth day, Qian Lang started running around dealing with company matters.

Renting a venue, registering an address, obtaining a business license, company seal, opening a bank account... a whole host of miscellaneous tasks kept him constantly on the go.

At the same time, he started to really become famous.

Zhang Jizhong began promoting "Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils".

Promotional videos were released one after another, featuring scenes of him fighting and close-ups of him reciting lines.

More importantly, in the composition and lyrics sections of those songs, the name "Qian Lang" was listed.

People in the circle started asking about it.

Who is this Qian Lang?

Next up is Liu Yifei's "By the Butterfly Spring".

The newspapers were still reporting on it, the radio was still playing it, and Qian Lang's name appeared again.

With three roles overlapping – composer, lyricist, and actor – it's hard to go unnoticed.

When Qian Lang walks down the street, he sometimes receives stares from strangers.

He didn't care, but he knew that he was no longer that unknown nobody.

Becoming famous is both a good thing and a troublesome thing.

For example, more people are starting to apply for brokerage positions.

Qian Lang met several people in his newly rented small office, but he wasn't very satisfied with any of them.

Some are too slick, their first line being, "I can help you get a big role."

Some are too honest, answering only one out of three questions, their eyes lacking any sparkle.

Until that day, there was a knock on the door.

The man who entered was a young man, about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, wearing a dark jacket, with his hair neatly combed and a professional smile on his face.

"Mr. Qian, my name is Song Zhe, and I'm here to apply for the position of agent."

Qian Lang was drinking water when he heard the name, and his hand trembled slightly.

Song Zhe.

He looked up at the person in front of him.

He has a refined and gentle appearance, but his eyes hold a hint of shrewdness, a hint of ingratiation, and a bit... something hard to describe.

Qian Lang put down his water glass and slowly stood up.

"Your name is Song Zhe?"

"Yes."

"Which Song? Which Zhe?"

"Song refers to the Song Dynasty; Zhe refers to philosophy."

Qian Lang stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed and pointed to the office door, saying...

"Get out of here!"

Song Zhe was stunned for a moment.

Is there anything else you want to say?

just.

"If you don't leave, I'll hit you!"

Qian Lang spoke with a cold glint in his eyes.

This guy... I really want to beat him up.

Some people might disgust him at most, but this person makes him want to hit him.

This is the real-life version of Ximen Qing.

If it weren't for Baoqiang's good fortune, things might have turned out differently...

Song Zhe left, somewhat flustered, because Qian Lang had already swung the chair around.

Qian Lang also thought of someone: Wang Baoqiang from 03!

If he were to sign Baoqiang now, Wang Baoqiang's fate would be completely changed.

However, Qian Lang looked at the company, which was now penniless, and shook his head.

The time is not right!

The company was still going through the procedures, and Qian Lang's business license had not yet been issued. However, Ning Hao returned two days later.

When the call came in, Qian Lang was in his office looking at resumes.

Ning Hao said on the other end of the phone.

"Hey prodigal son, I'm back in Beijing. Want to hang out?"

Qian Lang went without hesitation.

Even if Ning Hao doesn't contact him, he'll still contact him.

The meeting place was a small restaurant near the back gate of Beijing Film Academy, a place I used to frequent when I was in school.

When Qian Lang arrived, Ning Hao was already sitting inside, in a window seat.

It's not mealtime yet, so there aren't many people in the restaurant.

Qian Lang went in and sat down opposite him.

It's been almost a year since I last saw Ning Hao, and he's changed a lot.

I've lost weight, gotten darker, and... well, I'm feeling down.

This guy is clearly not doing well.

"How's business? Waiter, let's order!"

As Qian Lang spoke, he called for a waiter.

"Sigh, I'm about to go downhill."

Ning Hao sighed with a wry smile.

Just then, the waiter came over.

Qian Lang skillfully ordered several dishes.

Braised eggplant, shredded pork with sweet bean sauce, poached chicken, and a candied sweet potato.

"Four more beers, please."

As Qian Lang spoke, Ning Hao watched quietly.

He only spoke with a smile after Qian Lang had ordered the food.

"You prodigal son, you've become a big star."

"Hey, everyone else might not know, but you know, you big star? Haha, I'm just a fart!"

Qian Lang said dismissively.

He was actually speaking from the heart.

There are at least 800,000 celebrities like him in the Chinese entertainment industry right now, and many more will disappear in a few days.

"You should be content. Look at me!"

Ning Hao pointed to himself as he spoke.

Only then did Qian Lang take a good look at Ning Hao.

The clothes were old, the cuffs were worn white; the hair was a bit long and needed a trim; there was some black under the fingernails, as if the person had just finished some work.

"Are you crazy? You're just faking it for me. Let me tell you, no matter what, you have to pay back that 500 yuan. It's been a year already."

Qian Lang said speechlessly.

He didn't believe Ning Hao was so poor that he couldn't even afford new clothes.

Just then, the dishes and drinks were served.

Ning Hao didn't say anything, and just downed a glass of wine.

Then they started talking non-stop.

"I'm fucking a mess!"

"Look at my clothes, I'm not in the mood to change them, and I still have 500 yuan to pay back."

"My script was thrown out of the office, you know? They said it was utter nonsense!"

"Let me tell you, throughout 2002, I was the boss!"