Chapter 56: All Because of the Spring Festival Rush

As the end of the year approached, the performances of Guilty Crown at the Forest of Lights came to a pause, since Xia Shamo would be returning to her hometown in Sichuan with her mother. In just over ten days, Cheng Xiaoyu, Xia Shamo, and Chen Haoran each earned more than twenty thousand yuan. Of course, Cheng Xiaoyu had Chen Jinglong slip a little extra to Xia Shamo, so her share exceeded thirty thousand.

Chen Jinglong was happy to hand out the money—on the night Cheng Xiaoyu and Du Xingdou played together, the bar’s takings doubled its previous record. Chen Jinglong made a handsome profit and couldn’t stop grinning, even giving Cheng Xiaoyu and Xia Shamo a generous bonus at the end.

Xu Qinning’s entire extended family, more than a dozen people, went to Hawaii for the New Year. Before leaving, she extorted a hot pot meal out of Cheng Xiaoyu. Su Yuxi went along too, though she had always been immune to all things decadent; even food was a mere indulgence for her. But she seemed genuinely happy watching Cheng Xiaoyu and Xu Qinning enjoy their hot pot.

Fu Xiyue sent Cheng Xiaoyu a message, saying that Liu Huaming wanted to invite him to dinner. Cheng Xiaoyu had no idea what Liu Huaming was up to, but he had not the slightest fondness for her, so he made excuses, telling Fu Xiyue they could talk after the holiday.

Time moved on in its orderly way, and Cheng Xiaoyu lived according to his usual routines.

On the twenty-eighth day of the lunar month, Cheng Xiaoyu’s whole family was set to travel to the capital. The Su family’s roots were in Beijing; his grandfather and grandmother were both still alive. Grandfather Su Dongshan had once held a ministerial rank, and both his eldest uncle and third uncle now worked in ministerial departments in the capital.

His uncle, Su Changqing, had had the most successful career, now serving as Vice Minister of the Department of Publicity, overseeing news and publishing. But at over sixty, he was approaching the end of his career, with retirement only two or three years away.

His third uncle, Su Changwei, was Deputy Director of the Library Division in the Ministry of Culture—a deputy office-level post without much real power.

Of the third generation—the same generation as Cheng Xiaoyu—only Su Changqing’s eldest son, Su Buyun, age thirty-five, had entered government service, now serving as deputy director of the Propaganda Department under the State Administration of Radio, Film, and Television. The rest mostly worked at Shanghe Records’ Beijing office, just getting by.

With the Spring Festival rush, even business class tickets were hard to come by, so the family ended up on different flights. Cheng Xiaoyu and Su Yuxi only got seats in economy, while Su Changhe and Zhou Peipei took a business class flight half an hour later. (Domestic flights generally do not have first class.)

Cheng Xiaoyu and Su Yuxi, boarding passes in hand, walked one after the other toward the gate. Today, Su Yuxi wore a dark blue, preppy toggle coat, a light gray embroidered sweatshirt over a ruffled shirt, and a blue Scottish plaid skirt mostly hidden beneath the coat, revealing only her long legs in black tights. Fortunately, she never wore heels, or she would likely have appeared taller than Cheng Xiaoyu.

Her indigo hair hung loosely down her back, and she wheeled a small silver suitcase in her right hand.

Cheng Xiaoyu silently followed a few steps behind, counting how many people deliberately sped up to overtake Su Yuxi just for the chance to turn and look at her. By the time he’d counted thirty-something, they had reached their departure lounge.

Su Yuxi casually picked a row of sparsely occupied seats, while Cheng Xiaoyu went to the nearby bookstore to buy something to read. He didn’t intend to buy any serious books—there was no way he could focus on a plane—so he picked up two magazines known for their abundance of beautiful women: “Men’s Glamour” and “Stylish Gent.” Though winter had settled over China, the glossy pages were filled with alluring stars in revealing outfits, and Cheng Xiaoyu couldn’t help licking his lips as he flipped through.

He didn’t recognize many Chinese celebrities, but on the cover of “Men’s Glamour,” a woman in a black bikini-style romper, her ample, fair bosom half-concealed by sheer fabric, one finger resting on her pink lips, was featured under the title “Sun Jingyao’s Emerald Dream.” The photo instantly imprinted her in Cheng Xiaoyu’s memory—her figure needed no further praise, but her face, rare and striking, was anything but ordinary, a blessing for the face-blind.

After paying, he tucked the magazines under his arm and left the bookstore, only to see a sharply dressed businessman approaching Su Yuxi to strike up a conversation. Cheng Xiaoyu couldn’t be bothered to intervene; otherwise, Su Yuxi would only use the opportunity to pick him apart under the pretense of “watching the show.” He found a seat at a distance and began leafing through his magazines. The content was even more risqué than he’d expected, making him silently resolve to subscribe for the whole year.

On the plane, Cheng Xiaoyu boarded behind Su Yuxi. The quality of flight attendants in China was generally high; even the one at the cabin door, judged by Cheng Xiaoyu’s critical eye, was a solid nine out of ten. As they passed the business class section, he spotted the same elite businessman who had tried to chat up Su Yuxi, seated on the aisle. He even saw him nod and smile at Su Yuxi, who remained expressionless.

Finding their seats, Cheng Xiaoyu took the aisle spot, Su Yuxi sat in the middle, and a middle-aged woman occupied the window seat.

Unconcerned about Su Yuxi’s opinion, Cheng Xiaoyu continued reading the racy “Men’s Glamour,” with content rivaling “Playboy.”

Once the plane took off and reached cruising altitude, someone tapped Cheng Xiaoyu on the shoulder. Looking up, he recognized the elite businessman from business class.

Before Cheng Xiaoyu could speak, the man smiled and said, “Excuse me, handsome, I know the lady sitting next to you. Would you mind switching seats with me? I’m in business class.”

Cheng Xiaoyu silently gave this thick-skinned fellow some credit; it was a well-honed tactic. Still, he didn’t think this well-dressed, handsome twenty-something would get anywhere with Su Yuxi. Thinking longingly of the spacious business class seats and the beautiful flight attendants, he hesitated before saying, “Alright.”

Before he could stand, Su Yuxi, who had just been resting with her eyes closed, spoke a single word in German: “As (Don’t you dare).”

Cheng Xiaoyu could only smile wryly and settle back into his seat, telling the man, “Sorry, bro, I want to sit next to the beauty too, you know.”

The businessman clearly didn’t understand German, and since Su Yuxi hadn’t turned around, he didn’t realize she and Cheng Xiaoyu knew each other. Undeterred, he tried negotiating with the lady by the window.

On hearing she could switch to business class, with better meals, the lady eagerly stood up and swapped seats with him.

Briefcase in hand, the businessman settled in with a smile, opened the window shade, and began his attempt at conversation. “It must be fate, beauty, for us to sit side by side on the same plane. It’s a blessing earned over centuries.”

Su Yuxi kept her eyes closed, showing no inclination to respond.

Undaunted, he pressed on, “I promise I’m not a bad guy. I’m an executive at MiaoPu, the leading university forum. The hottest campus belles and fairy goddesses online got their fame on our site; now they’ve all signed with top agencies and are about to release albums. Would you be interested in entering show business? I know several big record execs—I could introduce you.”

Su Yuxi didn’t so much as lift an eyelid, continuing her feigned nap.

Seeing his target was a tough one, he switched tactics and struck up a conversation with Cheng Xiaoyu. “You heading to Beijing, buddy?”

Though Cheng Xiaoyu was reading, the man’s voice was loud enough to catch every word. Turning, he replied dryly, “Do you think I’m going to jump out of the plane halfway?”

The businessman didn’t mind the sarcasm, perking up at the chance to chat. “Student? Heading home for the holidays?”

Cheng Xiaoyu, bored and with nothing better to do, set aside his magazine and played along. “Yeah, first year at S Sports Academy. Worked a part-time job over winter break, saved up for the ticket, now heading back to Beijing.”

“Not bad! With your build, do you do discus or shot put? I never worked during college, too busy being student council president at Renmin University for four years—kind of regret not getting that experience.”

Cheng Xiaoyu, keeping a straight face, lied, “I do judo. Coach says I might make the national team. Hoping to win a gold for our country in London 2012.”

Catching a slight twitch at the corner of Su Yuxi’s mouth, the man assumed he’d finally piqued her interest. He eagerly fished out an ornate card holder, pulled out a business card, and passed it to Cheng Xiaoyu across Su Yuxi. “Athletes like you deserve more coverage on our site. I’m good friends with Liu Yunfei, this year’s sanda champion. We’re thinking about organizing a cross-discipline martial arts contest and streaming it online—should get a lot of buzz.”

Cheng Xiaoyu accepted the delicate wood-inlaid card, replying, “No-holds-barred fighting? Great idea—you could call it ‘Showdown at the Forbidden City’ or ‘Sword Duel on Mount Hua.’”

But the businessman’s attention was fixed on his business card. Watching Cheng Xiaoyu casually slip it into his pocket, he said, “Take a closer look—that card has some history.”

Cheng Xiaoyu examined it, but saw nothing unusual. He read aloud, “Vice President, China Internet Association; Chief Operations Officer, MiaoPu.com; Vice President, China College Internet Alliance; Honorary President, Renmin University Alumni Mutual Aid—Wang Dongliang.”

The businessman gave him a “you’re teachable” look, but cut him off. “Don’t bother with the titles. What I meant was, didn’t you notice the calligraphy? That’s a piece by master calligrapher Xu Beihong.”

Cheng Xiaoyu scratched his head, smiling, “Sorry, I’m a sports major. Not much for the arts. Didn’t recognize it.”

Just then, a tall guy in the row ahead turned and said to Cheng Xiaoyu, “There are a lot of scammers these days, cheating people on flights. Better be careful.” Though his words were for Cheng Xiaoyu, his eyes were on Su Yuxi.

Cheng Xiaoyu, sharp as ever, realized this guy was also trying his luck with the beauty, hoping for a chance in the ensuing chaos. Grinning, he said, “I don’t think Wang here’s a fake. That watch he’s wearing—I just saw it in the magazine. Costs tens of thousands.”

Wang Dongliang silently praised him a thousand times, thinking this kid might act simple, but he had a good eye. He raised his wrist, showing off his Longines. “Just something to wear for fun. After New Year’s, I’ll get a gold Rolex.”

The tall guy scoffed, “A Rolex? That’s so tasteless. My dad wears a Piaget. Even this Omega I’ve got is pricier than yours.” He took off his watch and handed it to Cheng Xiaoyu.

Cheng Xiaoyu quickly tugged down his cuff to hide his own Chopard, then took the Omega and examined it. “Didn’t see this model in the magazines. Not sure it’s better than Wang’s.”

The tall guy flushed with anger. “If you don’t know, don’t talk nonsense. Those rags you read wouldn’t have anything good anyway.”

Cheng Xiaoyu, unfazed, handed the watch back. “Sorry, I don’t really know much. You’re both rich, that’s enough, right?”

Wang Dongliang, hearing Cheng Xiaoyu subtly disparage the sudden appearance of this young rich kid, felt as comfortable as if he’d eaten a ginseng fruit. “Ignore him. Couldn’t even get a business class seat, yet here he is showing off.”

In truth, Wang’s own business class ticket was a last-minute deal from a friend at a travel agency—expensive, but the only way he could get back to Beijing for the holidays, with half the cost reimbursed by his company. Now, it felt worth every penny.

The tall guy, fuming, fell silent.

Cheng Xiaoyu steered the topic to the internet. Eager to show off, Wang Dongliang answered every question, giving Cheng Xiaoyu a crash course on the cutting edge of China’s tech industry, which proved surprisingly informative.

Though Wang Dongliang was somewhat noisy, he had real knowledge. Chatting idly, two hours passed quickly. When the tall guy in front asked them to keep their voices down, they ignored him. Su Yuxi remained with eyes closed, resting.

At last, as the sweet voice of the flight attendant came over the speakers, Cheng Xiaoyu glanced out the window and saw the grand silhouette of Beijing coming into view.