Li Qiang’s sharp eyes spotted Jiang Siyang first. "I see Xiao Jiang," he announced excitedly.
"I see him too. That white jacket is hard to miss," Zhang Jin’an said.
Jiang Siyang stood tall by the entrance, dressed in a white down jacket and cargo pants. He was half a head taller than most of the passersby. Without a hat to obscure his face, he was quite striking.
The car pulled up in front of him. Zhang Jin’an unbuckled his seatbelt, donned his hat and mask, and stepped out carrying a gift box.
The moment Jiang Siyang saw him, he greeted him with a smile. "Ge." Then, lowering his voice, he asked, "Are the people following the car gone?"
"Not yet. But once they see it's you, they won't stay for more than a few minutes. They'll be gone soon," Zhang Jin’an said, glancing toward the trailing vehicle.
"Mm," Jiang Siyang nodded.
Bending down, Jiang Siyang noticed Li Qiang in the driver's seat. "Qiang-ge came too?"
"I just followed him here," Li Qiang said.
"Oh, I’ve been meaning to look up a friend who opened a studio in Shanghai. I haven't had time to visit before, so I kept putting it off. Now that I have the chance, I’m going to handle that. Qiang-ge is just tagging along because of my business," Zhang Jin’an whispered into Jiang Siyang’s ear. "The other reason is that he wanted to come play for a few days."
"Hey, you over there!" Li Qiang attempted to cut him off. Although he couldn't hear them, he could guess exactly what Zhang Jin’an was saying to Jiang Siyang based on his expression and behavior. "Don't you dare ruin my image of professional dedication in front of Xiao Jiang."
"No, no, of course not," Jiang Siyang quickly explained. He looked back at Zhang Jin’an. "Are you guys hungry? Let's go upstairs and eat."
"I won't go up. I'll just eat at the hotel. Can't let the hotel buffet go to waste," Li Qiang said with a wink.
"This... then Qiang-ge, take these to tide you over." Jiang Siyang handed the buns to Li Qiang.
"Alright, I'm off then." Li Qiang made a 'call me' gesture with his hand. "Jin’an, keep in touch."
"Will do," Zhang Jin’an replied with a smile.
As Li Qiang drove away, the silver-white car behind them followed suit.
Zhang Jin’an checked his watch. "They really didn't stay for even five minutes. Let's go."
"Okay."
The two entered the residential complex. Several elderly men and women sat beneath a banyan tree that looked decades old. Dressed in heavy coats, they were laughing loudly at jokes passed down from who-knows-where.
With his mask and hat on, few people recognized Zhang Jin’an, but almost everyone greeted Jiang Siyang, and he responded to each one.
When they reached the front door, Jiang Siyang took out his keys. Zhang Jin’an teased him about what just happened: "Our Siyang is quite popular with the elders."
Jiang Siyang felt a bit embarrassed. "It’s nothing special. Everyone just visits each other often, so we got to know each other over time."
"That's also because you all have good personalities. Otherwise, there’d be a fight every other day," Zhang Jin’an remarked.
"That’s true. They are all very nice people." Jiang Siyang pushed open the door. "Dad, we’re back."
Zhang Jin’an saw a middle-aged man in his fifties walk out. He wore a grey wool sweater and black trousers. He didn't look old at all; in fact, his posture was remarkably upright.
Zhang Jin’an felt in his heart that Jiang Siyang had truly inherited the best genes from both his mother and father.
"You really lucked out in the looks department," Zhang Jin’an couldn't help but whisper to Jiang Siyang.
Jiang Siyang didn't quite catch his meaning. "What?"
Zhang Jin’an didn't explain further. He took off his hat and mask and gave a slight bow to Li Guo’an. "Hello, Uncle."
"I know all about the two of you," Li Guo’an said, approaching slowly with his hands behind his back. He stopped in front of them. "Even though you are an actor I like, Jin’an—and an actor my wife, Siyang’s mother, liked—and even though I don't oppose your relationship, I still can't give my approval so quickly. After all, I only have one son. Moreover, Yang-yang said you plan to go public later. That means I have to be even more cautious about this matter."
Zhang Jin’an nodded. "I understand. As a parent, you only want what's best for your child. Whatever you want me to do, Uncle, I will do it."
"Good. Straightforward. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear," Li Guo’an said, pacing back and forth in front of them. "You probably know that I used to be a soldier. I’ve shed more blood than you’ve shed tears in your acting. Therefore..."
Zhang Jin’an tensed up, waiting for Li Guo’an to state his demand.
He imagined many scenarios. For instance, being asked to stab himself. But that would lead to prison, so it probably wouldn't be that harsh.
Or perhaps being asked to write a letter of guarantee. He could do that—he could even give Li Guo’an a two-thousand-word heartfelt essay on his secret crush. Though that might not be very useful.
"Therefore..." Li Guo’an paused.
Zhang Jin’an swallowed hard.
Li Guo’an finally brought his hands out from behind his back. He was holding a large poster that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. The person on the poster was Zhang Jin’an.
Li Guo’an: "First, help me sign this."
Zhang Jin’an: "?"
Jiang Siyang: "?"
Faced with their bewildered stares, Li Guo’an didn't even blink. "What? If you don't want to sign it, Jin’an, I won't force you."
"No, no, no." Zhang Jin’an immediately set his things down, took the poster and the pen, and began to write.
Li Guo’an craned his neck to watch.
"Dad, where did you get that poster?" Jiang Siyang asked.
"From your Uncle Lin’s house. Don't worry, I didn't tell them Zhang Jin’an was coming. I told them you were taking the poster to get an autograph," Li Guo’an said.
Jiang Siyang said nothing more.
Zhang Jin’an’s handwriting was beautiful. Even while using the wall as a backing, every stroke was sharp and elegant.
"Good handwriting."
Hearing the praise from his future father-in-law, Zhang Jin’an felt a surge of secret delight and became even more meticulous with his writing.
After signing his name, Zhang Jin’an asked carefully, "Uncle, would you like me to write a message?"
"Is that okay?" Li Guo’an asked.
Zhang Jin’an nodded repeatedly. "Of course it is."
"Then write: 'May all your wishes come true and may you be in good health,'" Li Guo’an said.
"Alright." Zhang Jin’an finished it in a few quick strokes and handed his own poster back to Li Guo’an with both hands.
"Good writing, good writing," Li Guo’an muttered, looking it over several times. "How many years did you practice?"
"I started in the third grade and continued until the end of my second year of high school," Zhang Jin’an answered truthfully.
Li Guo’an rolled up the poster. "Since the New Year is coming up, we haven't written our door couplets yet. How about..."
Jiang Siyang coughed twice. "Dad. Let's go inside and talk. It's almost noon; you must be hungry."
Evidently, Li Guo’an didn't catch Jiang Siyang’s drift. He scratched his head in confusion. "I'm not hungry?"
Jiang Siyang couldn't tell if his father was faking it or was truly that oblivious. He could only take a deep breath. "Dad, *I'm* hungry."
Li Guo’an: "Oh, alright then. You two come in and sit. It won't be long."
Seeing Li Guo’an about to leave, Zhang Jin’an quickly picked up his gift. "Uncle, this is for you. I chose this specifically; I hope you like it."
"You're a guest, I can't possibly take your things. No need, no need," Li Guo’an demurred.
"It's fine, it's just a small token of my appreciation. I'm imposing on your hospitality today, Uncle; I’d feel terrible if you didn't accept it," Zhang Jin’an said.
"...Alright then, I'll take it." Li Guo’an took the bag and pulled out the item inside. He couldn't take his hands off the military greatcoat, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. "This is good. This is very good."
"I'm glad you like it, Uncle," Zhang Jin’an said with a smile.
"You two watch some TV for a bit. I'm going to go cook," Li Guo’an said.
"I can help," Zhang Jin’an offered, moving to follow.
"No need. You're a guest, how could I let you help? Just sit. Yang, entertain him well," Li Guo’an said as he turned into the kitchen.
Jiang Siyang led Zhang Jin’an to the sofa and went to pour some water.
Zhang Jin’an looked around the room, already thinking about what gifts to bring in the future, when a glass of water appeared before him.
"Thanks," Zhang Jin’an said.
"You're welcome." Jiang Siyang sat down beside him. "Ge, what do you think of my dad?"
"Your father is very interesting." Zhang Jin’an stared into the clear water. "It seems now that the script I prepared was far too long. There's no need to talk to him like that at all."
Jiang Siyang placed his hand over the back of Zhang Jin’an’s. "My dad really likes you. He wouldn't crack so many jokes with anyone else."
Hearing this, Zhang Jin’an felt a bit more at ease. He began to idly stroke Jiang Siyang’s fingers.
"By the way, Siyang, what do you think about that matter?" Zhang Jin’an suddenly remembered the conversation they hadn't finished on WeChat.
"I don't mind," Jiang Siyang shook his head. "The fact that you came here today means the matters on my end are settled. Whether we go public later or keep things as they are, I'm fine with it. Those stalkers are indeed detestable; a slight mishap could cause a traffic accident. They need to be taught a lesson."
Zhang Jin’an smiled. "Alright, then it's settled."
The two chatted for a while before eventually going to the kitchen to help. Once five dishes were served on the table, the three men took their seats. Li Guo’an opened a bottle of baijiu, and they each took a small sip, not daring to drink too much.
Li Guo’an shared some stories from Jiang Siyang’s childhood. Zhang Jin’an listened intently, finding Jiang Siyang more and more endearing the more he heard.
After the meal, the three of them cleared the table together. Then, Li Guo’an called Zhang Jin’an into the bedroom.
As soon as Zhang Jin’an entered, he saw two photos hanging on the wall. One was a rectangular wedding photo in a gold frame, about sixty centimeters long. A young Li Guo’an was arm-in-arm with an elegant woman in a red wedding dress; both were smiling sweetly.
Hanging beside it was the other photo—the woman’s funeral portrait.
Li Guo’an offered Zhang Jin’an a cigarette.
Zhang Jin’an waved it away. "I don't smoke. Oh, I’ve smoked for roles, but I’m not addicted."
"Oh, I see." Li Guo’an didn't insist and lit the cigarette himself.
"Jin’an, I made things a bit difficult for you today."
"Not at all," Zhang Jin’an immediately denied.
"When Siyang told me about the two of you, to be honest, I was very surprised." Li Guo’an exhaled slowly. "Were you always... like this?"
Zhang Jin’an neither nodded nor shook his head. "Let's put it this way, Uncle. Personally, I feel that gender is just one of many criteria for choosing a partner, much like height. Some people like tall partners, some like short ones, and for some, height doesn't matter at all because their focus isn't on that. You can't say any of them are wrong, can you?"
Zhang Jin’an had worked as a host before, but he could swear that no hosting gig had ever made him more nervous about saying the wrong thing than this moment.
Li Guo’an remained silent for a full minute. The cigarette burned, its scent permeating the entire bedroom.
