On the other end of the line, she said with a giggle, "As Lu Xun once said: 'Argue all you want, fuss all you want, but Heaven knows I love you.'"
Zhang Jin’an replied, "Lu Xun said he never said that."
He heard a cough from the phone. "Then Master Zhang Shuyu once said it."
"Oh?" Zhang Jin’an feigned innocence. "Who is this Master Zhang Shuyu? I don't believe I know her. Oh—wait, I remember now. Isn't that my former sister?"
Instead of getting angry, the person on the other end began to laugh obsequiously, her tone completely different from her previous screeching. "Hehehe, Brother, I was wrong. I was just having a fit of madness earlier. Hehehe."
The reason Zhang Shuyu’s attitude could shift so drastically within ten minutes was entirely due to Zhang Jin’an’s understanding of her.
Zhang Shuyu had been simple-minded since childhood. As long as things didn't go too far, a single "sweet date" was enough to make her forget any grudge.
Thus, after Zhang Shuyu finished her hollow threats, Zhang Jin’an had handed the phone to Jiang Siyang, letting him chat with her for a few moments. He didn't give her a single chance to stay angry. By the time Zhang Jin’an took the phone back, her mood had fully recovered. She was back to her cheeky self, even demanding that Zhang Jin’an ask Jiang Siyang for an autograph to be sent to her university.
"Brother, have you heard that song?" Zhang Shuyu asked excitedly.
Zhang Jin’an knew that even if he didn't speak, she would keep going anyway, so he simply hung up.
"..."
Zhang Jin’an looked at his phone and counted. Three seconds later, it rang again. He picked it up.
Zhang Shuyu wasn't affected by the sudden disconnection at all; she was still in high spirits. "Hey, look at you. If you don't know it, just say so. Why hang up? So naughty."
Zhang Jin’an: "..."
Zhang Shuyu continued to ramble to herself, "Let me tell you, that song goes: 'In this world, only a brother is good—'"
Zhang Jin’an actually laughed. "Zhang Shuyu, going to medical school is a waste of your talent."
"How so?" she asked.
"You should have gone into multi-level marketing," Zhang Jin’an said. "See those health supplement commercials on TV? You’d be a perfect fit for a scammer there."
"Don't be like that. 'In this world, only a brother is good; a girl without a brother is like a blade of grass...'" Her singing grew softer until it finally stopped.
A few seconds later, her voice returned, much faster this time, rattling off words like a machine gun: "Oh, my friend is calling me. Just write my name as the sender when you mail it. I'll text you the specific address. Remember to use SF Express. Muah!"
With that, Zhang Shuyu hung up.
Zhang Jin’an lowered his hand, turned off the phone, and tucked it back into his trouser pocket. He turned to Jiang Siyang. "Siyang, sorry about that. She bothered you."
Jiang Siyang waved his hands hurriedly. "No, no, it's fine. I actually quite envy your sister. She’s very cheerful and not at all shy around strangers."
"Not shy? You didn't see her back then..." Zhang Jin’an paused. "Forget it. The past is in the past."
"Okay," Jiang Siyang replied.
Anyone hearing those words would know something had happened, but Jiang Siyang wouldn't pry. Right now, even their status as "friends" was a question mark; he had that much self-awareness.
A few minutes later, Xie Jie returned with boxed lunches. Jiang Siyang sent a text to Liu Wenping, and she returned as well. The group gathered around the coffee table, sitting on the sofas to eat. Zhang Jin’an and Jiang Siyang sat on the long sofa, while Xie Jie and Liu Wenping each took a small armchair.
When Liu Wenping heard Zhang Jin’an say the audition went well, she was beaming with joy, even giving her chicken leg to Jiang Siyang.
Jiang Siyang was overwhelmed by the favor and thanked her repeatedly. Zhang Jin’an watched this, feeling a bit of bitterness in his heart. Back when he first debuted, Li Qiang had treated him the same way. He had thought it was a reward from Li Qiang and was moved for days, only to find out later that Li Qiang only gave him the chicken leg because he was on a diet.
Thinking of this, Zhang Jin’an took a fierce bite of his own chicken leg.
Zhang Jin’an and Jiang Siyang ate intermittently, chatting as they went. They talked about everything—from the film industry to its current state, and then to recent dramas. As they talked, Zhang Jin’an discovered that he and Jiang Siyang shared a consensus on many things. This was a pleasant surprise; in this day and age, finding someone whose thoughts aligned with his was difficult.
Moved, Zhang Jin’an took another bite of his chicken leg.
For instance, on the topic of whether one should accept roles in plagiarized dramas, both agreed they should not.
Just as they finished discussing this, Xie Jie chimed in from the side, "I have a question. It should be impossible for anyone to take a role in a plagiarized drama, right?"
Zhang Jin’an and Jiang Siyang stopped talking, put down their chopsticks simultaneously, and looked at Xie Jie.
Zhang Jin’an gave a faint smile. "Oh? Then tell us, Xiao Jie, why is it impossible?"
"Because any decent person would boycott plagiarism," Xie Jie said as if it were obvious. "I think plagiarism is on par with theft. It's absolutely disgraceful."
"True. But if, as you say, everyone boycotts it, then why are there still so many plagiarized works being adapted into films and TV shows with no loss in popularity?" Zhang Jin’an held up his hand, curling one finger for each title he named. "Like *Three Days and Nights of Ten-Mile Plum Blossoms*, *The Splendid Center*, or *Ye Qiangu*—aren't those all very popular dramas, even though the original novels are well-known for being plagiarized?"
These were classic examples known to everyone within the industry. Faced with such evidence, Xie Jie was momentarily stumped.
"I guess..." Xie Jie thought for a moment and gritted his teeth. "I think those people are just doing it for the money. They'll do anything for money."
"I don't think we should blame everything on money. What's wrong with money? Saying you don't like money is just acting like a prick. Everyone likes money," Zhang Jin’an said with a smile. "If you ask me, it's all about the 'fluke mentality.'"
"Fluke mentality?" Xie Jie looked at Jiang Siyang, looking confused.
Noticing Xie Jie’s silent plea for help, Jiang Siyang immediately explained patiently, "It's when a mistake isn't discovered or stopped, so it isn't corrected. That's when the fluke mentality sets in. Once you get a taste of success, there's a second time, a third time... by the time someone wants to stop it, it's already spiraled out of control."
Zhang Jin’an continued, "Take plagiarism, for example. Do you think it's just direct copying? They’re very clever now; they use 'sophisticated blending.' Only those in the industry can tell; outsiders can't see it at all. So when investors see that a plagiarized novel's adaptation is a hit, why wouldn't they buy it? That's how one after another gets made."
Xie Jie was still confused. "Sophisticated blending? How do they copy?"
Zhang Jin’an smiled. "It's simple. Suppose I write: 'I bought some fruit today and met a dog on the road.' That's a very common sentence, right?"
"Yeah," Xie Jie nodded.
"So, if that sentence appears in someone else's writing, it's nothing. It doesn't constitute plagiarism. After all, who hasn't run into a dog?"
Zhang Jin’an’s voice was steady and deep, naturally commanding attention. It made people involuntarily stop what they were doing to listen. Not just Jiang Siyang, but even Xie Jie unconsciously put down his chopsticks to listen intently.
"But what if I write: 'I met a blind dog on the road, I helped it, it followed me home, and later I found out the dog belonged to my neighbor'? That’s a bit more specific, isn't it? Now, if someone else comes along and writes a story where they just change the dog to a cat, the neighbor to a friend, and change the first-person 'I' to the third-person, but everything else is exactly the same..." Zhang Jin’an finished slowly, tossing the question to Xie Jie. "Do you think that's plagiarism?"
"Of course it is!" Xie Jie said immediately. "The story is almost the same, and you said the wording was identical. How could it not be plagiarism? Besides, how could so many people happen to meet blind cats and dogs?"
Zhang Jin’an gave him a smile. "You can tell right now because the example is short. But think about it—if that passage was expanded, written into a hundred thousand words, would you still be able to tell?"
"This..." Xie Jie was stumped again.
Jiang Siyang patted Xie Jie’s shoulder, comforting him. "It's okay. It's not just you; I wouldn't be able to answer that either."
"The current state of the cultural industry—or rather, the entire industry—is that it's very hard to legally define plagiarism," Zhang Jin’an said, resting his elbow on his crossed leg, his hands clasped and his index finger tapping his chin. "Even if a work is labeled as plagiarized, as long as there isn't a formal court ruling or official determination, the production companies won't care, even if everyone can see it. Their mindset is: the fighting and the lawsuits are between the two authors; it has nothing to do with them. They don't care who the original creator is or who the plagiarist is. They only care if the work can be finished before it gets banned and if it can generate enough hype. In fact, the more controversial a work is, the happier they are, because the hype will be even higher."
After Zhang Jin’an finished, everyone fell silent.
Seeing this, Zhang Jin’an laughed. "Don't be like that, everyone. We're just discussing. Why so serious? Say something."
"Sigh..." Xie Jie let out a long breath, his spirits dampened.
Noticing that the person beside him had also lowered his head, Zhang Jin’an couldn't help but shake his head with a smile.
Although he and Jiang Siyang shared some common thoughts, they were different in many ways. Through their conversation, Zhang Jin’an had realized that Jiang Siyang was much more sentimental than he was.
And not just by a little bit.
Zhang Jin’an sighed inwardly. *He’s definitely going to suffer for this in the future.*
While thinking, Zhang Jin’an shifted closer to Jiang Siyang. The gap that could have fit another person was now less than twenty centimeters. At this distance, Zhang Jin’an could smell the scent coming from Jiang Siyang. He didn't know what the stylist had sprayed on him, but it was a faint mix of grapefruit and orange.
Zhang Jin’an nudged Jiang Siyang’s arm with his elbow. "What's wrong, Siyang? Why the silence?"
Only then did Jiang Siyang look up, staring straight at Zhang Jin’an.
Looking at Jiang Siyang’s face from such a close distance, Zhang Jin’an only had two questions in his mind: *Why does this face even need makeup? Is he just afraid the cosmetics will go to waste if he doesn't use them?*
Jiang Siyang had no idea what Zhang Jin’an was thinking. He just lowered his eyes and said, "I just feel sorry for those authors. There are too many plagiarized works that are more famous than the originals. When people mention a story, the first thing they think of is the plagiarized version."
He really was sentimental.
Zhang Jin’an smiled. "Don't be so discouraged. Being popular doesn't necessarily mean it's good, and being good doesn't necessarily mean it'll be popular. Talent and fame aren't always equal. This is the era of big data. People only look at the numbers. Plagiarized works can buy bot accounts and advertisements to boost their data, and then they become popular. Data can be faked, and fame can be manufactured, but talent cannot. It’s survival of the fittest; those people will be weeded out sooner or later."
"Yeah," Jiang Siyang replied softly.
Seeing him like this, Zhang Jin’an stood up and reached out a hand to Jiang Siyang. "Come on. There's still some time before your performance. I'll take you for a stroll."
Jiang Siyang was clearly taken aback, but he quickly took Zhang Jin’an’s hand. After using the leverage to stand up, he let go.
Zhang Jin’an put on his hat and mask. Jiang Siyang also donned his hat and mask, putting on the denim jacket he had arrived in to cover his stage outfit.
Zhang Jin’an took the staff pass from Liu Wenping, who was still eating slowly. "We're heading out for a bit."
Liu Wenping glanced at Zhang Jin’an’s watch. "Is an hour enough?"
"Plenty. We're not buying anything, just looking around. Even half an hour would be enough," Zhang Jin’an said as he walked toward the door, only to be called back by Liu Wenping.
"Jin’an, take off your hat. The words on that hat are a dead giveaway."
"Yes, that's exactly how I recognized you," Jiang Siyang nodded from the side.
"Won't it be easier to recognize me if I take it off?" Even as he said this, Zhang Jin’an took off the hat and placed it on a nearby coat rack. He asked Jiang Siyang, "Siyang, do you have another hat?"
"No," Jiang Siyang pointed to the one on his head. "Only this one."
Zhang Jin’an thought for a moment. "Forget it. We'll go buy a hat first. Anyway, my face is covered, and people don't know I'm here. Let's go."
He pushed the door open and left, with Jiang Siyang following close behind. Zhang Jin’an swiped the card, and the two of them exited. They walked through the corridor and pushed open a yellow door, entering the mall. The noisy hum of the crowd hit their ears.
Only now did Zhang Jin’an truly see what the mall looked like. It was shaped like an infinity symbol (∞) and had eight floors, each teeming with people.
Zhang Jin’an walked quickly to the railing and leaned over, looking up. The roof was made of transparent glass, reflecting the blue sky.
The weather was truly beautiful today—an immense azure. Zhang Jin’an could even see a few white clouds.
"Can we go to the roof?" Zhang Jin’an asked the person who had walked up beside him.
Jiang Siyang looked up with him. "I don't know. Should we go to the eighth floor and try?"
Zhang Jin’an looked down and smiled at Jiang Siyang. "I was just joking. It clearly wasn't meant for people to stand on. If we try, we might just 'die.'"
Though he couldn't see Jiang Siyang’s mouth, Zhang Jin’an was certain he was smiling based on the curve of his eyes.
Zhang Jin’an rested his hands on the railing and looked around. The sixth floor was the dining area, lined with food stalls. No wonder it smelled so good the moment they opened the door; the scent was wafting from there.
The fifth floor was the sports section, filled with various athletic brands. In the past, sports floors in malls were just places Zhang Jin’an passed through to get to the elevators; he never looked at them.
But now was different. The spokesperson for a certain brand was right next to him. How could Zhang Jin’an not join in the fun?
At a glance, Zhang Jin’an spotted Velove. Two posters were plastered at the entrance, both featuring Jiang Siyang—one on the left, one on the right—and they were versions that hadn't been released online yet.
Without a second thought, Zhang Jin’an grabbed Jiang Siyang’s wrist and pulled him toward the Velove store. "Come on, let's go check it out."
Jiang Siyang had been focused on searching the fourth floor for a general store. He had just spotted a shop that looked like it might sell miscellaneous goods when, before he could react, he was pulled away. His gaze was immediately drawn to the hand on his wrist. By the time he remembered to remind Zhang Jin’an about buying a hat, they were already standing in front of the Velove store.
Once they reached the entrance, Zhang Jin’an let go and began to tease Jiang Siyang with a smile. "Look, what's this?"
Jiang Siyang wasn't really listening to what Zhang Jin’an was saying. His eyes were fixed on Zhang Jin’an’s hand as it dropped to his side. It wasn't until Zhang Jin’an called his name again that Jiang Siyang looked up with a startled "Ah." Seeing the posters of himself on both sides, he realized why Zhang Jin’an had brought him here. He wanted to slip away immediately, but Zhang Jin’an was quick, grabbing his arm and pulling him back.
Looking at the hand gripping his arm, Jiang Siyang stammered with a hint of embarrassment, "This... weren't we going to buy a hat? Why are we here?"
"What else? To see a star," Zhang Jin’an said with a laugh. "They have hats here too. We can just buy one here. Come on, let's go in."
Before Jiang Siyang could speak, he was pulled inside.
It was that hand again.
This time, Zhang Jin’an was holding his forearm, so the hand was even closer to Jiang Siyang.
Jiang Siyang pursed his lips.
He had noticed long ago that no matter who the director was, every one of Zhang Jin’an’s film or television works always included a close-up of his hands.
They didn't favor them without reason; Zhang Jin’an’s hands were truly beautiful.
A black strap, a white dial with a moon phase complication—the watch contrasted against his skin. Just as they appeared on television, the lines of the back of his hand were rugged, his knuckles long and powerful. A few veins on the back of his hand spread like vines toward his forearm, disappearing into the flesh.
Jiang Siyang couldn't remember if it was last year or the year before, but an entertainment blogger had once compiled a collection of screenshots of actors' hands. It had trended on the hot search list. The top comment featured a picture of Zhang Jin’an’s hand. The caption was short, but it was highly acclaimed with over forty thousand likes. Compared to other comments that were dozens of words long, it was a single, lethal strike.
Seeing them now with his own eyes, Jiang Siyang felt that those words were absolutely correct. There was no better description.
—Zhang Jin’an’s hands were deadly sexy.
***
