Chapter 58: Wan Yin, Look! Your Favorite Male Choir!
In the old residential complex, daily management was lax, and the main gate was left wide open during the day, only closing around ten at night, requiring a key card for entry.
Uncle Zheng, the security guard, was locking up when he happened to see Chen Shian returning. He waited for him, as he’d worked security here for years and, aside from the occasional dispute with residents, rarely had such casual, neighborly chats as with Shian.
“Just finished class, Xiao Chen?”
“Yes. Are you getting off work now, Uncle Zheng?”
“Oh, I’ve only just started. No way I’m leaving this early—these days I’m on the night shift, eight at night to eight in the morning.”
“That’s pretty tough.”
“Tough? Not at all. I just sit in the guard room, air conditioning on, playing on my phone until shift’s over. I think you students have it harder than I do. I remember you leave at six in the morning, and look—it’s so late now by the time you’re back. I’ve already started my retirement life ahead of time, nothing compared to you.”
“That sounds good.”
Shian smiled, “Uncle Zheng, you’ve skipped a few decades of detours.”
“Haha, that’s true!”
Passing through the gate and into the complex, Shian returned to Building Two and climbed the stairs. The corridor’s sensor lights flickered on in sequence with his footsteps, bathing the steps in warm yellow light, then slowly dimming after each pause.
Back when he lived on the mountain, it was hard to imagine what life would be like, with dozens of families sharing a building. Many apartments retained the same old-fashioned decor as the one he now lived in—doors a deep liver color, left open with only the security gate latched, allowing the air, sounds, and scattered glimpses from inside to drift into the hallways.
On the third-floor landing, the scent of scallions and ginger sizzling in oil floated out, mixed with the hum of a range hood—someone was cooking, though it wasn’t clear whether it was dinner or a late-night snack.
From the fifth floor, the blare of a television mingled with the bright chatter of children, followed by a woman’s gentle coaxing.
On the seventh floor, the motion sensor light flickered with a faint static crackle. Shian looked up and saw a moth, drawn to the glow, flitting wildly around the bulb.
Finally, after climbing the last step, Shian reached the ninth floor and headed for apartment 901, fishing for his keys as he walked.
He opened the door to a brightly lit home.
A sweet, cloying fragrance lingered in the air—Shian recognized it as snow fungus and lily bulb sweet soup.
The television was on. On the sofa, a languid black cat turned to glance at him, then extended a paw to wildly prod the remote, flipping through channels in a blur of images. Who knew what it wanted to watch?
“Is that how you watch TV? You’ll break it like that.”
“Meow.”
Fat Mo glared at him, thinking, Who broke the only TV on the mountain back then? This kitten was just changing channels—how could it break anything?
“Are there really that many programs?”
Shian walked over, picked up the remote in front of the black cat, examined it, and pressed a few buttons.
Then he went to check the cables behind the television.
“Meow?”
Fat Mo watched him warily.
Fortunately, Shian didn’t do anything rash. Compared to their days on the mountain, fiddling with a dish-like contraption to find channels, modern cable TV offered far more choices.
He remembered watching TV with Fat Mo back then. If the screen fuzzed, boy and cat would rush out to adjust the dish—one nudge left meant static, one nudge right, rainbow stripes. Only the most precise adjustment could bring a clear picture.
That old TV at the temple didn’t even have a remote, just a set of retro buttons—a gift from someone during the millennium.
But all of that ended when he accidentally struck the TV with a lightning technique.
The black cat snatched the remote back from Shian and continued flipping through channels with its paw.
Suddenly, the TV stopped responding.
“Meow?”
Fat Mo’s face was full of confusion. It pressed the remote harder, but the picture didn’t budge.
“Meow.”
The black cat looked at Shian.
Shian: “...”
What kind of look is that? Suspecting I broke it? You’re the one who’s been mashing the remote, you fat cat!
Luckily, the young Taoist was less clueless than the cat; he knew more about technology. He picked up the remote and pressed a few buttons, noticing the indicator light wasn’t coming on.
“Probably out of batteries...”
“Meow...”
The black cat leaned in to watch, just as lost.
Shian flipped the remote over, opened the back, and found two slim batteries inside.
“Triple-A...”
He searched the TV cabinet drawers but found none in this size.
“Sister Wanyin—”
“Sister Wanyin—”
He called twice toward the tightly closed bathroom door.
The sound of running water stopped, and a gentle female voice answered, “Ah? Shian, you’re back?”
“Yes, Sister Wanyin. Showering so late tonight?”
“Mhm, went out for dinner with friends and then took a walk. I’m almost done, just wait a bit! Oh, I cooked some snow fungus and lily soup—you can have some!”
“No rush, I just wanted to ask if you have any triple-A batteries? Fat Mo drained the remote.”
Fat Mo: “?”
I just got here! How is it my fault the batteries are dead?
“The small ones?”
“Yes.”
“I think I have some in my room.”
“Okay, I’ll wait until you’re done.”
Though the bathroom door was closed, Shian didn’t want to get too close while she was bathing.
He set the remote aside and went to the kitchen, where a pot of freshly made snow fungus and lily bulb soup was cooling, which explained the sweet aroma he’d smelled upon entering.
Shian had made this soup many times himself—not only was it delicious, but it also soothed the lungs, stopped coughs, and nourished the body, especially perfect for the hot, dry weather of late summer and early autumn.
Having just eaten spicy sausages with Xiao Zhi, his throat was parched. He ladled out a bowl to taste—the flavor was excellent.
It was clear Li Wanyin was experienced; the snow fungus and lily bulbs had been pre-soaked, which prevented sourness, and she’d added a few red dates to enhance the nourishing aroma.
He filled two bowls. As he brought them out, Li Wanyin emerged from the bathroom, fresh from her shower, radiant as a lotus in clear water.
Wearing slippers, she walked to the balcony to hang up her towel and freshly washed clothes, then, remembering Shian’s request, went to her room in search of batteries.
“Triple-A... I should have some.”
“No rush, Sister, have some soup first. I’ve already served it.”
“Thanks—you have yours too.”
“I should be the one thanking you. Coming home to sweet soup every day is a real treat.”
“These are all really cheap ingredients—buy a little and you can make it many times. I used to brew a big pot for myself, but couldn’t finish it, and making less is tricky. Now, with your help, nothing goes to waste.”
Li Wanyin rummaged through her drawer and found two triple-A batteries. Changing batteries was a breeze for her, even if she wasn’t handy with light bulbs or plumbing.
Under the black cat’s admiring gaze, she replaced the batteries, and the remote sprang back to life.
“All done—it should work now.”
“Meow.”
She placed the remote in front of Fat Mo, who happily resumed flipping through channels. She took the opportunity to pet him; he didn’t run, just shot her a glare.
“Shimo really loves watching TV—it almost seems like he understands it.”
Petting the cat, Li Wanyin was delighted. She turned to Shian, “How old is Shimo, anyway?”
“At least eighteen. My master found Fat Mo at the same time as he found me.”
“Ei—eighteen?!”
Li Wanyin was shocked—he didn’t look it at all. But if he was really that old, his intelligence made sense.
“The oldest cat I ever had was a tabby who lived sixteen years.”
She sat down at the table, and the two of them chatted over sweet soup.
“You went out for dinner with friends tonight, Sister?”
“Yes, with my old college roommates. One of them is leaving Yunqi for her hometown, so we had hotpot together and went for a walk. I got back late. How was your studying today?”
“Not bad—still catching up on middle school math and English basics.”
He smiled, “How were your grades in middle school, Sister? If I have questions, can I ask you?”
“My grades were good back then, but it’s all been forgotten. I wouldn’t understand the questions now.”
“That’s a shame. You mentioned a job interview this morning—any news?”
Whether it was the sweetness of the soup or the promise of the interview, Li Wanyin’s expression was noticeably lighter.
“They said to wait for a reply, but I think I have a shot. If not, there’s another interview tomorrow.”
“Sounds like things are looking up?”
“Not really, I’ve just lowered my expectations. That way, there are more options. I need something stable—doing part-time gigs forever isn’t the way.”
“Don’t worry, Sister. You’re destined for wealth and fortune—your greatest setbacks are behind you. No need to rush.”
“Hearing that makes me happy~”
As they talked, a group message popped up on Li Wanyin’s phone.
Curious, she opened it.
It was a video.
[Wanyin, look! Your favorite tall guy! When you get rich, find one just like him! *drooling emojis* @Echo]
[Whoa! Jiayun, where did you find this video? This guy is seriously handsome! Is he doing martial arts? Looks so strong! *drooling emojis*]
[Saw it on Douyin, local feed. Looks like Yunqi No.1 High School. He’s practicing Baduanjin—handsome, right?]
Her girlfriends were chatting excitedly. Intrigued, Li Wanyin tapped to watch.
The moment she saw the handsome boy performing Baduanjin in the video, she froze.
Sh—Shian?!