Zhang Jin’an parked his car in the underground garage. Although the mall was barely fifteen minutes from his home, he had never actually been there. He nearly got lost in the labyrinthine layout, making several turns before finally locating the staff elevator.
While waiting for the elevator to descend, Zhang Jin’an hummed a tuneless melody and pulled out his phone.
[Zhang Jin’an]: [Grinning Emoji]
[Li Qiang]: What, looks like you’ve arrived?
[Zhang Jin’an]: [Grinning Emoji] You’re really comfortable letting me come here alone.
[Li Qiang]: What’s there to worry about? It’s not like you’ll get lost.
[Zhang Jin’an]: It’s a pity Brother Qiang couldn’t make it. Truly a pity.
[Li Qiang]: Stop acting. Haven’t you been itching to go out on your own for ages? I bet you’re over the moon right now.
Seeing this, Zhang Jin’an’s lips curled into a smile, and his humming grew a bit more cheerful.
Li Qiang had let him go out alone today. Even though his mask and hat were pulled tight, making things a bit stuffy and hot, it didn't matter. Nothing could dampen his mood. In fact, if someone were to mug him right now, he’d probably just report it to the police instead of giving the guy a beating.
[Zhang Jin’an]: Not at all. I’m still thinking of you, Brother Qiang. I’m not used to you not being around.
[Li Qiang]: Since you put it that way, I’m coming over.
[Zhang Jin’an]: No need for that.
The elevator arrived just then, and Zhang Jin’an stepped inside.
[Li Qiang]: Remember what I said yesterday? Get off at the first floor. There’s a white corridor where the event coordinator will be waiting. He’s tall and thin—don’t mistake him for someone else. They’ll bring you back down afterward. Call me if anything happens.
[Zhang Jin’an]: [OK]
Following Li Qiang’s instructions, Zhang Jin’an took the elevator to the first floor. When the doors opened, he was indeed met with a white-walled corridor. The tiled floor looked like it had just been mopped, gleaming under the lights.
The corridor wasn't long. After a dozen steps, Zhang Jin’an reached the end and stood at a fork in the path. He spotted a tall, thin man in a gray suit standing to the left. This had to be the coordinator Li Qiang mentioned.
Zhang Jin’an walked straight over. "Hello, are you the coordinator for today’s event...?"
The man turned around. Upon seeing Zhang Jin’an, he immediately offered a polite smile and extended his hand. "Zhang Jin’an, I’ve looked forward to meeting you for a long time. You can just call me Elvis."
Zhang Jin’an shook his hand.
"I didn't expect you to arrive so early," Elvis said as he led Zhang Jin’an toward a glass door. He swiped a card to unlock it and held the door open. Once Zhang Jin’an was inside, Elvis followed. "Don't want to browse the mall for a bit?"
"No, I’m not much of a shopper," Zhang Jin’an replied.
The two walked toward a pair of elevators. The display showed one slowly descending from the third floor.
"Then I’ll take you to the lounge area first. Our event is on the first floor, but the lounge is on the fifth," Elvis said, checking his watch. "There’s still half an hour before the event starts."
Zhang Jin’an nodded. "Alright, thanks for the trouble."
"It’s no trouble at all. It’s just adding a seat. We’re more than happy to have you here," Elvis laughed. "Most of us are fans of yours. If we weren't on the clock, they’d all be over here asking for autographs."
As they spoke, the elevator arrived, and the two stepped inside.
"How long has this mall been open?" Zhang Jin’an asked.
"Construction finished in 2010, so it’s been five years. The anniversary celebration is in a couple of days, but since the next two days are the weekend, we moved the event up to today, Saturday," Elvis explained.
"No wonder the parking garage was almost full before ten," Zhang Jin’an remarked. "The foot traffic today is nothing to sneeze at."
"Yes, and since we’ve invited several celebrities, a lot of fans have shown up too." Elvis looked at Zhang Jin’an with a smile. "If they knew you were here as a special guest, there would definitely be even more people."
Zhang Jin’an waved his hand dismissively. "What guest? I’m just here as an audience member."
The elevator stopped on the third floor, and a young man entered. He was carrying two bags of milk tea in his hands and cradling another bag in his arms—about a dozen cups in total. He was walking very unsteadily, but noticing others were present, he gave them a stiff nod.
Zhang Jin’an glanced at the "Temporary Staff" badge hanging from the young man’s neck and kindly asked, "Do you need a hand?"
"Huh?" The boy clearly hadn't expected to be addressed. He immediately shook his head. "No, no need... ah!"
Before he could finish his refusal, the bag in his arms began to tilt outward. Zhang Jin’an, quick as a flash, reached out to steady it.
"It’s fine. I’m going to the fifth floor anyway; it’s on the way." As he spoke, Zhang Jin’an took the bag from the boy’s arms.
The young man visibly relaxed and steadied himself. "Thank you, thank you so much."
"It’s nothing, just a small favor," Zhang Jin’an said. He glanced at the bags; they were all the same flavor: original pearl milk tea.
They soon reached the fifth floor. As they exited the elevator, Elvis opened the glass door for them.
"We’ll go straight ahead," Elvis said.
The young man immediately stopped and said to Zhang Jin’an, "I’ll head off first then. I can carry the rest back myself."
"Alright." Zhang Jin’an carefully placed the bag back into the boy’s arms. "Be careful."
The boy hesitated for a moment before asking, "Would you like to take a cup?"
"Me? No thanks," Zhang Jin’an shook his head. "I assume you bought these based on a head count. It would be hard for you to explain if one went missing."
The boy thought about it, realized it made sense, and nodded. "Okay. Thank you so much again. Goodbye."
"Bye," Zhang Jin’an waved.
After giving his thanks, the boy turned and left.
Zhang Jin’an watched the boy’s wobbling figure disappear around a corner and said to Elvis, "Did you invite an idol group today? That’s a lot of milk tea."
"We have some idols, but not many. The rest are actors," Elvis smiled. "I imagine some celebrity is just treating the staff."
"That’s nice." Zhang Jin’an took one last look at the room the boy had entered and said to Elvis, "Let’s go."
***
"I’m going to grab a bite. See you later."
Jiang Siyang, whose hair was currently being held by a stylist, didn't dare move. He simply waved at the host in the mirror as the man left. "See you later, Brother."
Now, only he, Liu Wenping, and a young female stylist remained in the dressing room. This girl truly had no mercy for his hair; her scissors moved with terrifying speed. Jiang Siyang blinked, and half his hair had already been trimmed.
If he hadn't spoken up in time to say the length was just right, the girl might have given him a buzz cut.
"The filming is over anyway, might as well get a haircut," Jiang Siyang comforted himself.
Liu Wenping suppressed a laugh and checked the time on her phone. "There’s still half an hour until ten. I’m going to go over the schedule with them again. You keep at it; call me if anything happens."
Liu Wenping looked around. "By the way, where’s Xie Jie? Where did he go?"
"Oh, I asked him to help buy milk tea. One cup for every staff member," Jiang Siyang said.
The thing Liu Wenping was most satisfied with regarding Jiang Siyang was that he never caused trouble; he was reliable. And treating the staff was such a standard move for him that Liu Wenping would think he was sick if he *didn't* do it.
Liu Wenping nodded. "Alright, then when he gets back—"
"I’m here—!"
"He’s back," Jiang Siyang said.
Liu Wenping turned to see Xie Jie set the milk tea on the coffee table and collapse onto the sofa, panting heavily.
"That was so heavy. Good thing the mall isn't hot, or I’d be dead right now," Xie Jie wheezed.
Liu Wenping fanned Xie Jie with her hand. "Xiao Jie, I’m heading out for a bit. Call me if you need me."
With that, Liu Wenping left, closing the door behind her.
Xie Jie got up from the sofa, walked over to Jiang Siyang, and handed him a card. "Siyang, your card."
"Oh, thanks," Jiang Siyang took the card. "Hard work."
"It wasn't too bad, just heavy. Oh, right. Let me tell you, when I was in the elevator just now, I ran into a guy. He was really kind and even helped me carry a bag," Xie Jie recalled. "He didn't look like staff—no badge. He must be a guest."
Jiang Siyang glanced at the bags on the table. "Did you give him a milk tea?"
"I offered, but he wouldn't take it. Said it would be hard for me to explain if a cup was missing," Xie Jie shrugged.
Jiang Siyang was a bit surprised. "That person sounds quite nice."
"We’ll probably see him later anyway. I’ll point him out to you then," Xie Jie added. "It would be great if you two could become friends. It’s all fate, after all."
Jiang Siyang thought that was a possibility, but then he wondered, "Do you know who he is?"
Xie Jie immediately said, "No idea. He was wearing a mask and a hat."
"..." Jiang Siyang choked for a second. "Then how are you going to point him out?"
"I still remember his other features," Xie Jie said proudly, listing the traits he recalled. "He’s about the same height as you. Even with the mask, I could tell he has a good face shape—must be a handsome guy. If I still can't tell, I’ll look at his clothes. Everyone’s wearing their own clothes today, and they won't change. I remember what his clothes looked like."
Jiang Siyang finally heard something practical and grew interested again. "Oh? What were his clothes like?"
Xie Jie: "He looked very rich."
Jiang Siyang: "..."
Jiang Siyang opened his mouth to speak, but seeing Xie Jie’s sincere expression, he simply patted Xie Jie’s shoulder. "Alright, you worked hard. Go get some rest."
"Sure," Xie Jie went back to sit on the sofa.
As Jiang Siyang watched Xie Jie return to his seat, he felt the likelihood of this working out was low. Based on the traits Xie Jie described, five out of ten people in the mall would fit the description.
Still, it would be nice if they found him; if not, it wasn't a big deal.
Jiang Siyang took out his phone and opened Weibo. He hadn't been on the app since his post yesterday and didn't know how things were going.
When he opened it, he saw that not only the reposts but also the comments had exploded. The red unread notification was constant, and his follower count had risen significantly.
Jiang Siyang marveled; this was the effect of a "Big Boss."
Of course, the Big Boss effect wasn't limited to the internet; it brought a lot of other things too. Originally, Jiang Siyang was supposed to come straight here this morning, but because of yesterday’s sudden event, he had been called back to the company for a brief meeting. The gist of the meeting was for Jiang Siyang to seize the opportunity and try to have some interaction with Zhang Jin’an while the heat was still there.
To put it bluntly, they wanted him to ride the coattails of Zhang Jin’an’s popularity.
Jiang Siyang felt the company was overestimating him. First, he wasn't the type to chase clout; he had no interest in becoming famous through anything other than actual acting skills. Second, and most crucially, how could a thirty-second-tier actor like him have any interaction with a first-tier Film Emperor? Forget being friends—even running into him would be a challenge.
It wasn't like Zhang Jin’an would just wander around aimlessly.
Jiang Siyang had looked at Zhang Jin’an’s Weibo. Besides himself, Zhang Jin’an followed many humor bloggers, and his posts were like those of an average netizen—scrolling down, it was all miscellaneous "Hahahahahaha"s.
The mutual follow was probably just a whim of Zhang Jin’an’s; he likely saw him as an entertainment blogger and hit follow on a lark.
"It’s hard..." Jiang Siyang sighed.
"What? Does it look bad?" The young stylist hurriedly stopped her hands.
"No, no," Jiang Siyang immediately explained. "I just ran into a difficult problem. I wasn't talking about you."
"Oh... that’s good," the stylist visibly relaxed and continued curling his hair.
Jiang Siyang opened that specific Weibo post. The comments below had reached 13,000, and the top-rated comment actually had more likes than his entire post.
Curious about what was going on, Jiang Siyang clicked on the top comment and instantly felt a jolt of energy.
[@Siyang’s Little Quilted Jacket—Sliced Noodles]: My reaction right now is the same as Siyang’s: Is this real?
[@Zhang Jin’an] replied to [@Siyang’s Little Quilted Jacket—Sliced Noodles]: szd
Zhang Jin’an had personally come to comment. No wonder the likes were so high.
Jiang Siyang was stunned, but then he thought that there were many impersonator accounts on Weibo; it might be a fake.
So, Jiang Siyang clicked on the name and saw the profile picture: a meme of Squidward on the phone with small text saying, "Not here, don't cue me."
Jiang Siyang silently backed out.
Yep, it was Zhang Jin’an alright. In the entire entertainment industry, only he would use that as a profile picture.
Jiang Siyang remembered Liu Wenping once telling him that Zhang Jin’an had a photo album specifically for memes. If you chatted with him, you could never win a meme battle.
He truly deserved his title as the number one person voted by netizens for "Please stay away from the fandom."
Jiang Siyang looked at the comments below. The replies to Zhang Jin’an were mostly playful: "Sir, please stay away from the fans' lives, okay?", "LMAO, the Big Boss already knows fandom acronyms hahahahaha," and "The Big Boss personally entered the fray, it’s locked in, locked in."
There were some internet terms Jiang Siyang didn't quite understand, like that "szd."
"Xie Jie," Jiang Siyang called out. Xie Jie, sitting on the sofa, immediately looked up. "What is it, Brother?"
Jiang Siyang’s hair was now half-curled. It wasn't overdone; just the tips were slightly curved, giving it a textured, dimensional look.
"I remember you follow idols?" Jiang Siyang asked.
"Yeah, I do," Xie Jie said. "That’s the reason I applied to an entertainment company."
Jiang Siyang’s eyes lit up, and he quickly asked, "Then you must know fandom slang, right?"
"Of course, it’s a required course," Xie Jie stood up and walked over to Jiang Siyang. "What’s up?"
"Then let me ask you, what does 'szd' mean?" Jiang Siyang asked.
"szd? It means 'shì zhēn de'—it’s real," Xie Jie answered fluently. "It’s an acronym."
"Oh..." Jiang Siyang said thoughtfully. "Are there a lot of acronyms online?"
"Yeah, there’s also awsl, zqsg, nsdd, nmbs... plenty," Xie Jie said.
The stylist was doing the final setting work, using a comb to lift a lock of Jiang Siyang’s hair back before letting it fall naturally.
"What does 'awsl' mean?" Jiang Siyang asked curiously.
"Ah, 'ā wǒ sǐ le'—I’m dead. This one has spawned a lot of variations, like 'A-Wei is dead,' 'A-Wei’s mass grave,' 'A-Wei is dead through and through'..."
Jiang Siyang nodded. "I didn't expect there to be so much subtext."
Xie Jie gave a modest smile. "It’s not really subtext, just something everyone says for fun."
Jiang Siyang continued, "What about zqsg?"
Xie Jie answered without hesitation, "Zhēn qíng shí gǎn—true feelings. Following a star with true sincerity."
Jiang Siyang: "nsdd."
Xie Jie: "Nǐ shuō de duì—you’re right."
Jiang Siyang: "nmbs."
"Nǐ mā b—" Xie Jie immediately clamped his mouth shut, successfully swallowing the words just in time. He cleared his throat. "You don't need to know that one. Anyway, anything and everything can be an acronym..."
Under Xie Jie’s tutoring, Jiang Siyang memorized quite a few fandom acronyms during his hair styling. Xie Jie remarked that he was the best student he’d ever taught, learning very quickly.
"I’m back." When Liu Wenping opened the door and entered, the stylist had already left. She saw the two of them huddled around a phone, passionately discussing something.
Liu Wenping thought they were discussing some serious academic terms; they were so focused they didn't even notice she was back.
But as she drew closer, she heard:
Xie Jie said with great emotion, "Sasaeng fans are just sasaengs—stalking cars, following artists. They aren't even considered fans anymore."
Jiang Siyang looked up in confusion. "Then anti-fans don't count either?"
Xie Jie: "Of course not. They’re haters. How can they be fans? Fans my foot."
Liu Wenping: "? What on earth are you talking about?"
***
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Unable to be Arrogant [Entertainment Circle] | Chapter 9 | It’s Real | Novela.app | Novela.app
