Chapter 24

Jingcheng, train station

The weather in July was scorching hot, but fortunately, Yan Li got off the train at night, when the temperature was relatively cooler.

Carrying his suitcase, he avoided the offers from unlicensed taxis and looked around, but didn't see anyone; just as he was about to call, he heard a shout.

"Brother Li, over here."

A slender, handsome guy in flared pants waved at him—it was his college roommate, Zhou Yi.

Yan Li had informed his close brothers after returning from Hengdian; Zhang Songwen and Lin Jiachuan were filming elsewhere, so only Zhou Yi remained in Jingcheng and volunteered to pick him up at the train station.

"Whoa, you even brought your dad's car."

Yan Li embraced his brother, then patted the black Passat beside him.

Among the four brothers, Lin Jiachuan and Zhou Yi came from the best-off families.

Lin Jiachuan's father, Lin Heping, was a professional writer and screenwriter who had created several film and television works and was somewhat well-known in the industry.

Zhou Yi was even more impressive—both his parents worked in the military arts troupe, and his mother was even a regiment-level officer with some influence in the dance world; Zhou Yi had moved to Jingcheng with his parents as a child, and though their family wasn't wealthy, it was still quite comfortable.

In comparison, Yan Li's background was far more ordinary.

His hometown, Zao City, was a small city in southern Shandong Province, and his family ran a small restaurant that barely earned a few ten thousand yuan a year—neither rich nor poor.

Their other roommate, Zhang Songwen, also had a father who worked for the government.

But due to his small-town roots and his mother's early death, his situation was somewhat miserable, placing him on par with Yan Li.

My dad went on a goodwill trip out of town, so I borrowed his car.

Zhou Yi chuckled, gesturing for Yan Li to get in; the latter felt a bit uneasy.

"Can you even drive?"

Among the four, Zhou Yi was the youngest, born in August 1982, still a month shy of turning twenty; he'd only just gotten his license last summer and had very little driving experience—Yan Li genuinely worried.

"Relax, I've been practicing every day since graduation."

Zhou Yi was confident; since his brother had come all this way to pick him up, Yan Li didn't want to dampen his enthusiasm, so he got in, heart pounding.

After driving for a while and seeing that Zhou Yi handled the car steadily, Yan Li gradually relaxed and began chatting.

"How are Jiachuan and the others doing in Dalian?"

Long-distance calls were expensive, so the brothers usually just briefly caught up before hanging up.

Perhaps because they were far away, the system hadn't triggered much information, so Yan Li only knew the two had joined a production crew in Dalian—but not the details.

"What do you expect? Just scraping by."

Zhou Yi's tone grew melancholy; back when they'd just graduated, they'd been full of ambition, ready to make a big splash.

But ideals were plump, reality was bony!

Only Yan Li himself had managed to land a role and headed straight to Hengdian to film right after graduation.

The other three had spent half a month sending out hundreds of resumes and visiting over a dozen production crews—but found no roles.

They'd graduated now; they couldn't keep asking their families for money, and just sitting around wasting away wasn't an option.

Zhang Songwen and Lin Jiachuan discussed it and joined a crew—not to act, but to work behind the scenes.

One became an assistant director, the other a script supervisor.

Calling it "assistant director" sounded impressive, but in reality, it held no real authority—just helping out with shouts and chores on set, with little room for advancement and almost no pay.

Still, at least those two had steady jobs; Zhou Yi fared worse, only picking up odd jobs.

Not long ago, he'd gone with an older student to do voice work—for extras—and earned barely enough to survive.

Of course, Zhou Yi's family lived in Jingcheng, so he had a place to stay and a car to use; even if he didn't ask, his parents occasionally helped out, so life wasn't hard.

That was the confidence that allowed Zhou to stay in Jingcheng, taking odd jobs and waiting for opportunities—if not for his family's support, he would likely have followed Zhang and Lin to join the crew, running errands.

But this wasn't a long-term solution; even if his parents didn't mind, Zhou Yi's proud nature couldn't accept living off them.

If he couldn't land another role soon, he might have to lower his pride and take on any odd job just to earn money.

Yan Li listened silently as Zhou Yi described his recent struggles, saying nothing.

This industry was brutal—only a tiny fraction became famous and rich; most were ordinary people struggling hard.

Countless graduates from the undergraduate class at Beijing Film Academy had switched careers; those of them from the lower-tier vocational class, like them, faced even greater hardship.

If he hadn't had the system, Yan Li guessed he'd be just like Zhou, Lin, and Zhang—bumping into walls everywhere.

Earning just enough to survive, waiting years without seeing any light, eventually despairing, choosing to switch careers or return home to inherit the family restaurant, vanishing completely from the industry.

But now it was different—he had a chance to break the mold and change his fate; when he succeeded, he wouldn't forget his brothers.

But these thoughts, Yan Li kept inside, never spoken aloud.

Actions speak louder than words—he hadn't made it yet; talking big would just be bragging. Better to save his strength and rise sooner…

Zhou Yi drove the car to a small neighborhood called Jimen Li near Jimen Bridge.

It was an old neighborhood, said to have existed since the 1980s, very close to Beijing Film Academy—almost directly opposite, just a ten-minute walk away.

Arriving at a building, they climbed to the third floor; Yan Li pulled out his key, opened the door, turned on the light, and saw a living room with shabby, cold décor.

He dropped his luggage on the floor, sat on the sofa, and stretched out comfortably.

"Finally home."

When Yan Li had left Jingcheng, he'd just graduated and hadn't yet moved out of the dormitory—but it was only a matter of time.

To have a place to stay upon returning, Yan Li had rented this apartment together with Zhang Songwen and Lin Jiachuan, who were still in Jingcheng.

Zhou Yi lived in Jingcheng and didn't need to share, but often came over to hang out with the brothers; especially when Yan Li and the other two were away filming, he took care of the apartment.

The whole apartment had three bedrooms and a living room, with a kitchen and bathroom; the monthly rent was only 1,200 yuan, so each person paid just a few hundred.

This rent was rare for this area of Jingcheng—its low price was naturally thanks to Yan Li's system finding a bargain.

He'd been constantly talking about renting a place, but secretly wanted to rent a good one cheaply, so naturally, the system triggered a few related pieces of information.

If Yan Li hadn't been busy heading to Hengdian to film, given a few more days, he might have found an even better, cheaper apartment.

Every time Yan Li came here, he'd wonder: even if he couldn't make it as an actor, he could still be a top-tier intermediary.

After a brief rest, Yan Li went to check his bedroom.

The rent for this apartment was cheap for a reason: besides the bathroom toilet and kitchen stove, the whole place had only one sofa, a dining table, and a few beds—no cabinets in the bedroom at all.

Luckily, his dorm supplies were still mostly complete—sheets, quilts, washbasins, and thermoses were all there; otherwise, how he'd sleep would've been a problem.

"You're quick—Songwen even made up my bed for me."

Yan Li sat on the bed and tested it, thoroughly satisfied. Lin Jiachuan was careless, Zhou Yi wasn't the type to serve others—only Zhang Songwen could be this thoughtful.

Zhou Yi leaned against the door, his expression odd: "It wasn't Old Ghost who made the bed."

In the dorm, Zhang Songwen and Zhou Yi were closest; sometimes their affection bordered on exceeding the bounds of brotherhood, and because Zhang was older, Zhou Yi had given him the nickname "Old Ghost."

"Old" meant he was older; "Ghost" meant Zhang was clever, skilled at handling people—a sly, sharp-minded fellow.

Yan Li's mind raced: "Did Dong Xuan come?"

"Mm."

Zhou Yi nodded, then immediately betrayed Lin Jiachuan: "Jiachuan couldn't keep it quiet—Xuan-jie came twice, took your sheets and such to wash them, brought them back and made the bed, and even bought you a floor fan, which she put in Jiachuan's room."

"Oh."

Yan Li fell silent for a moment: "Does she know when I'm coming back?"

"I didn't tell her."

Zhou Yi first distanced himself, then added: "But whether Jiachuan let it slip—I don't know. You know he's got a crush on Xuan's classmate."

Yan Li winced. He had his own intelligence network, sure, but they'd planted a mole right beside him.

When this Jiachuan comes back, he'll learn what it means to betray a brother—three cuts, six holes…

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(End of Chapter)