Chapter 87: The Little Girl’s Difficult Journey

Most of the people in the bar were students from nearby schools. These young people had an impressive ability to embrace new things. Especially with “A Flower”—its catchy lyrics, playful lines, and Yan Xu’s exaggerated stage movements—soon the audience began to hum along. The line “You look like my uncle” quickly became a chorus for everyone.

Zhou Huimin watched Yan Xu on stage, his playful gestures bringing a faint smile to her lips. She knew well his talent for songwriting, but she hadn’t expected him to come up with such a song. It carried no profound meaning, no tales of love or heartbreak, no complaints about society or its ills. It was as if he were simply narrating the mood of a bored man. And yet, such a simple song was immediately memorable—the melody and lyrics sticking in one’s mind.

Though this kind of song would likely draw criticism or scorn from many music critics, the audience’s reaction made it clear that there was a wide market for such music.

“Are you... Miss Zhou Huimin?” As Zhou Huimin gazed dreamily at Yan Xu’s performance, a voice suddenly spoke up beside her.

The young girl next to her had stopped crying. Being so close to Zhou Huimin, and with the backstage lights bright, she could clearly see her face now that Zhou Huimin had dropped her disguise.

“Are you alright?” Zhou Huimin asked, tacitly acknowledging the girl’s question.

“It really is you! I love your songs so much.” The confirmation filled the girl with excitement, instantly drying her tears. She nearly squealed with delight.

“Hush!” Seeing her so worked up, Zhou Huimin quickly covered the girl's mouth, glancing around warily, afraid of being recognized.

“Oh, sorry! I’m sorry!” The girl realized her mistake and lowered her voice. “I’m a fan—could I have your autograph?”

“Of course.” Zhou Huimin nodded. The girl pulled a small backpack from behind her, rummaged for pen and paper, and Zhou Huimin signed her name in a flourish.

“Is the man on stage your boyfriend?” the girl asked quietly, having noticed Zhou Huimin’s gaze fixed on the man who had come to her rescue.

“He sings well too. Is he also a singer? The song he wrote is so interesting. I wonder how he came up with it.”

“He’s my boss.” Zhou Huimin’s cheeks colored at the girl’s praise, but she neither confirmed nor denied the question.

“So he’s Yan Xu? He looks even more handsome than in movies—I almost didn’t recognize him!” The girl had clearly seen Yan Xu’s film, though she hadn’t immediately connected the actor to the man before her.

“You saw his movie?” Zhou Huimin asked. Yan Xu had only acted in one film, “The Rainy Night Butcher,” and in Taiwan, it was rated for adults—no one under eighteen allowed. The girl, though dressed maturely, looked only fifteen or sixteen at best.

“I watched it in Japan. The censorship there isn’t as strict as in Taiwan.” The girl explained quickly, reading Zhou Huimin’s confusion.

In early Japanese cinema, age ratings mainly controlled nudity and sexual content but were lax about violence and horror. Theaters didn’t strictly enforce age limits, and many R-rated films could be watched with an accompanying adult.

“Were you traveling in Japan? Is it a fun place?” Zhou Huimin’s interest was piqued; she had never been to Japan. In fact, this trip to Taiwan was her first time leaving Hong Kong.

“My stepfather is Japanese, so I attend high school there,” the girl replied.

“Then why did you come back to Taiwan?”

“My family isn’t well off, and we have a lot of debt. I started working at a restaurant when I was fourteen. Later, because of an ID photo, I met a famous Taiwanese singer who said he could introduce me to the music industry. I used my savings from working to come back, but I’m still too young to sign a record deal. I can only take small gigs and perform here and there.” The girl sighed, but her gloom quickly faded, replaced by a look of determination.

“These small shows are valuable, though. They sharpen my skills, enrich my experience, and give me stage confidence. I believe that when I’m old enough to sign a record deal, I’ll definitely succeed.”

“If you have a dream, you’re bound to succeed.” Zhou Huimin looked at the girl, realizing how lucky she was in comparison—after all, she had met him. Her gaze drifted to Yan Xu on stage as she spoke.

No matter how animated the two women’s conversation became, Yan Xu remained completely immersed in his performance. The audience’s chorus and their enthusiastic response filled every cell in his body with excitement.

No wonder so many people loved the stage—the feeling of being embraced by the crowd was exhilarating, like gulping down an ice-cold Sprite after a game of basketball in the heat of summer. Every pore tingled with freshness.

“...Because you look like my uncle.”

As the final strum of the guitar faded, Yan Xu’s song ended. Yet the audience seemed unable to shake off the passion of the moment. Some whistled, others applauded, and some shouted for an encore.

“The next song is also an original—‘The Couple Sitting at the Alley Entrance.’” Seeing that the next performer wasn’t ready and enjoying himself on stage, Yan Xu simply cleared his throat and continued.

“Boom boom boom, la la la la... The couple sitting at the alley entrance, hugging each other tightly, motionless, as if time has nothing to do with them. What kind of feeling is this, could it be love? La la la la...” Yan Xu knew his own strengths—high notes were not for him—so he chose catchy tunes.

This song, “The Couple Sitting at the Alley Entrance,” is by Natural Roll. Its casual melody is fresh and light, vividly depicting the adorable gestures of lovers in love. It makes people smile and reminisce about the sweetness of their own romances.

“This song is wonderful! Have you heard him sing it before?” the girl asked Zhou Huimin, her eyes brimming with admiration. To be a director, an actor, a songwriter and composer, a decent singer, and to run several companies—he was truly a genius.

“No,” Zhou Huimin shook her head, murmuring to herself. “You think you know him so well, but he always manages to surprise you with something new.”