Chapter 5

Jiang Yi came to MIT for research, not to make friends. Taking care of the professor’s nephew was merely a way to repay his teacher’s kindness.

He joined the research group before he was legally an adult, studying alone in Beijing. Professor Chen had helped him a lot, both in life and academics. It was only right to repay him.

Even though his perception of Yang Youran had changed, it didn’t affect his attitude. When Yang Youran mentioned wanting to cook for him, Jiang Yi agreed.

Jiang Yi had been cooking alone in a foreign country for three years. He was the only Chinese in the lab, and cultural differences made him somewhat aloof. Occasionally, he would dine with classmates and teachers, attend parties and school dances, but overall, he wasn’t a sociable person.

Considering Yang Yunran’s poor English, Jiang Yi bought a Pixar animated film, which might be easier for him to understand. Cinemas are crowded during Christmas, and Jiang Yi doesn’t have many choices.

Yang Yunran set up his equipment and live streaming account. He positioned his computer’s camera towards a white wall, sat on a single chair, and wearing a microphone, sang and played guitar, live streaming and recording simultaneously.

His voice was similar to the original singer’s, lacking only in breath control and technique.

With no background noise, Haliyeh quietly watched from his dog bed. Yang Yunran wore a white wolf mask, covering his features tightly to maintain anonymity. He sang his own lyrics and composition, “The World,” the most widely recognized piece he wrote as the theme song for a youth-themed movie about pain.

Ironically, the song became famous, but the movie was so obscure that it couldn’t be found.

After performing once, the live stream didn’t attract much attention, with few viewers. Yang Yunran saw a comment asking, “The host sings so well!! What song is this? I’ve never heard it before.”

Yang Yunran replied after finishing the song, “It’s called ‘The World,’ I wrote both the lyrics and the music myself, dedicated to the lost youth. If you like it, please follow me, I’m Haliyeh.”

Yang Yunran earnestly stated his online nickname.

With no one visiting the live stream, Yang Yunran ended it and edited the video slightly, adding subtitles. Using the registered ID “Haliyeh,” he published the song on various platforms.

Having carefully reviewed the original singer and the management company’s contracts, unlike the unfair treaty he signed in his youth, the original singer had a family lawyer review it before signing with the management company. Therefore, Yang Yunran had considerable freedom, with most terms benefiting him, and there was no issue with anonymously posting the video.

After finishing all this, it was already 2 AM. Yang Yunran held his electric guitar without plugging it in, strumming lightly for a while. A silent and uninspired melody floated in his mind.

Yang Yunran tried for a while, then frustratedly set the guitar aside.

This state of losing inspiration lasted for over two years. It wasn’t that he couldn’t write songs at all; relying on his skill, Yang Yunran could still produce passable works. But he could no longer find that dazzling, almost divine feeling of inspiration he had experienced before.

Yang Yunran’s career was sustained by his previous success. Despite having written many songs that could sustain him for a lifetime, he disliked reheating old dishes and perpetually chased after new and higher forms of glory.

In his past life, Yang Yunran had achieved great success and earned enough money to last a lifetime.

During these uninspired two years, Yang Yunran tried various methods—praying at temples, burning incense at Taoist temples, even worshiping the Four-Faced Buddha in Southeast Asia. His boss even suggested he adopt a child monk, saying, “XX and XXX both did it, and suddenly their careers skyrocketed, becoming famous everywhere.”

Yang Yunran replied cautiously, “Isn’t this risky and prone to backfire?”

The boss dismissed his concerns, saying, “Come on, everyone in our circle has one. Have you seen anyone face problems?”

Yang Yunran almost believed it and was about to contact a Thai monk when he heard news that XX had died in a car accident—a person his boss had previously mentioned had adopted a child monk.

This incident frightened Yang Yunran, causing him to stand up the monk and instruct his assistant to book the earliest flight back home. He stayed home for three months, secluded and created two mediocre songs.

This period made him emotionally unstable, very irritable, and he often had sleepless nights. Yang Yunran started drinking heavily.

Unexpectedly, he found himself in another world, still reheating old dishes, singing his former hit songs.

Yang Yunran put away his guitar pick and began reading a book. He got so engrossed that he forgot to turn off the reading light and fell asleep on his books.

The next morning, Zhao Youmo came to help him walk the dog. Yang Yunran was awakened by the noise, had a cup of coffee, and continued reading.

An hour and a half later, Zhao Youmo returned with the dog, surprised to find him earnestly studying in the living room.

Bending down to feed the dog, Zhao Youmo asked, and Yang Yunran heard his voice and removed his headphones.

Zhao Youmo: “Sorry, did I disturb you?”

Yang Yunran: “No, do you have plans tonight?”

Zhao Youmo turned and said, “I have a dinner appointment.”

Before Yang Yunran could speak, Zhao Youmo quickly added, “But I can still come to help you walk the dog! Don’t worry.”

Yang Yunran noticed he was dressed more carefully than usual today: “I wasn’t asking about that. I wanted to ask you, who are you having dinner with? Is it a date?”

Zhao Youmo looked embarrassed: “Not exactly, not my date… I met someone on an app and we just chatted.”

Yang Yunran: “Are you not dating anyone?”

Zhao Youmo lowered his head and replied, “Not yet, not officially…”

Yang Yunran asked him like a mentor, “Zhao Youmo, do you think love can bring you something—like freshness, excitement, inspiration?”

Zhao Youmo didn’t know why he was being asked this, but he answered, “I don’t know… maybe happiness, fulfillment, someone to talk to.” When he felt most lonely and lost, he downloaded a dating app to chat with people, making him feel less alone.

“Ah, I see…” Yang Yunran suddenly realized. Maybe he lacked dopamine, the happiness and fulfillment he needed; he couldn’t find his own muse of inspiration, so he couldn’t produce satisfactory work.

He wanted to change careers but couldn’t bear to give up something he had once loved deeply from the bottom of his heart. He decided to give it another try. If it didn’t work out, he would earn some money, get his diploma, and switch to another industry. After all, as long as he could eat, he would be fine.

“What app are you using?” Yang Yunran asked Zhao Youmo to recommend it to him. He downloaded one—a same-sex dating app. Yang Yunran created an account and scrolled through various styles of men’s photos, but none were satisfactory.

Seeing Yang Yunran swiping quickly, Zhao Youmo said, “There are more Chinese users on this one. I have another app with more Caucasian users. Would you like me to recommend it to you?”

“Forget it,” Yang Yunran replied after swiping for a few minutes. He glanced and thought none compared to Jiang Yi. He lost interest. “No need to recommend it to me. Building a new relationship is too troublesome and a waste of time.”

When it came to muses of inspiration, he might as well use the ready-made scoundrel Jiang Yi.

In the late afternoon around five o’clock, Yang Yunran closed his book and asked Jiang Yi to come pick him up. Yang Yunran sat in the car and watched him, feeling quite satisfied. The two went to have Western food together, with Jiang Yi paying the bill, and then they headed to the movies.

“Shall we watch an animated film?” Yang Yunran felt lost when he received the movie tickets.

“Yes,” Jiang Yi said, “there were no other tickets left.”

“Alright.” Yang Yunran went to queue up for soft drinks and popcorn. After about fifteen minutes, they squeezed into the crowded theater. The children’s theater was packed everywhere, and their seats were quite isolated. On Yang Yunran’s left sat a hefty man weighing three to four hundred catties, and on his right was Jiang Yi, next to a couple. In front of them, a group of screaming Caucasian kids filled the air.

The viewing conditions were terrible, and Yang Yunran tried his best to shrink into himself and lean towards Jiang Yi.

Seeing his discomfort, Jiang Yi glanced sideways and quietly said to him, “Let’s switch seats.”

“What?”

“Let’s change seats.”

Yang Yunran moved to sit next to the couple, while Jiang Yi ended up next to the hefty man.

As the movie started, Yang Yunran put on his 3D glasses and initially managed to focus, but later found it hard to concentrate due to the intimate sounds coming from the couple beside him.

How could a couple be so affectionate in a children’s movie theater? His ears grew hot and embarrassed, and he curled up against Jiang Yi.

Jiang Yi, sensing his unease, slightly leaned away and whispered to him, “Don’t lean on me to sleep. Watch the movie seriously.”

The laughter in the theater was too loud for Yang Yunran to hear clearly. Perplexed, he looked up and asked Jiang Yi, “What did you say?”

The warmth brushed against Jiang Yi’s ear as Yang Yunran spoke softly, as light as a feather.

Jiang Yi lowered his head to speak closer, but accidentally brushed his lips against Yang Yunran’s cheek. Yang Yunran’s skin was soft, carrying the warm caramel scent of popcorn. Jiang Yi froze for two or three seconds, not realizing what had happened.

Yang Yunran was taken aback, thinking Jiang Yi was trying to kiss him.

However, Yang Yunran wasn’t ready for that and felt a bit flustered and awkward. He tactfully leaned close to Jiang Yi’s ear and said, “Jiang Yi, the couple next to me is kissing. I think they’re quite rude!”

Jiang Yi calmly responded with a “Hmm,” placing his hand on Yang Yunran’s head gently, pushing him away. “Watch the movie.”

As the laughter subsided in the theater, Yang Yunran understood him clearly this time and nodded. “Okay, I won’t behave uncivilized in the cinema!”

Jiang Yi continued watching the movie with a blank expression, stealing a glance at Yang Yunran from time to time.

In the stuffy theater, Yang Yunran took off his knitted hat, his hair messy, his face slender with a pointed chin, happily munching on popcorn.