Huayu97: Starting with Wu Song Fighting the Tiger

"Who's talking nonsense?!" Kang Honglei stamped his feet in frustration, looking at Liu Xiang who was still cuddling with the tiger. "This kid has a fierce look in his eyes, that kind of reckless courage like Wu Song! Trust me this once, let him go to Wuxi for the audition, or I'll take my assistant director position from you!"

Zhang Shaolin, unable to resist his persistent pestering and hearing his seemingly miraculous explanation, finally relented: "Alright, alright, let him come. But let me make this clear from the start: if he fails the audition, you'll have to take him back yourself. Don't cause me any more trouble."

After hanging up the phone, Kang Honglei slapped his thigh with joy, almost bending the iron railing next to him. He shouted to Liu Xiang, "Kid, it worked! Director Zhang wants you to audition in Wuxi!"

Upon hearing this, Liu Xiang's hands trembled, and she almost pulled out the tiger's fur. The tiger grunted in dissatisfaction, and Liu Xiang quickly smoothed its fur, her heart overflowing with joy.

Emerging from the zoo, Kang Honglei waved his hand dismissively: "Come on! I'll take you to get some new clothes! We can't go to see Director Zhang in this shabby military overcoat; it'll embarrass our 'Water Margin' team!"

Kang Honglei hailed another taxi. He sat in the passenger seat, and Liu Xiang sat in the back. With the car window open and the wind blowing in, Liu Xiang felt light and refreshed. In 1997, in Xidan, Beijing, imitations of Pierre Cardin clothing were just becoming popular. Kang Honglei led Liu Xiang into a shop with a sign that read "Boutique Men's Clothing".

As soon as the proprietress saw people arrive, she immediately raised her voice and shouted, "Gentlemen, would you like to see these suits? They're the latest style, so fashionable!"

Kang Honglei picked out a navy blue suit for Liu Xiang. The fabric felt smooth to the touch. The proprietress was as sweet as honey: "This suit is tailor-made for this young man! He looks more dashing than a movie star!" Liu Xiang looked in the fitting mirror and almost didn't recognize himself. It turned out that he could look so presentable after dressing up.

Kang Honglei paid without saying a word. Liu Xiang looked at the price tag and her heart pounded. This money was enough for her to eat steamed buns for several months.

After buying the suit, Kang Honglei took Liu Xiang to eat hot pot. The copper pot was glowing red, and the slices of mutton cooked quickly in it, with a delicious sesame sauce.

Liu Xiang ate heartily, while Kang Honglei piled meat on his plate and instructed, "Get a good rest tonight, make sure you're well-rested. Tomorrow we'll take the train to Wuxi and try to land the role of Wu Song!"

Liu Xiang, his mouth stuffed with mutton, nodded vigorously, his eyes welling up with tears. In all the time he'd been in the capital, no one had ever treated him this well, except for Old Zhou.

That evening, Liu Xiang, carrying a suit jacket, returned briskly to his "home," a basement room of less than ten square meters. This basement was shared by three people. Besides him, there were two roommates: one named Zhang Yang, who was idle and spent his days wandering the streets, unable to find any decent work; and the other named Zhao Dong, who was cowardly and worked odd jobs at a small restaurant, earning a meager living.

The basement had no windows and was perpetually musty. The three beds were crammed together. Liu Xiang carefully placed his suit jacket on the bedside table, gently adjusting the hem before lying down. Exhausted from a long day, he fell asleep almost immediately, even dreaming that he was wearing the suit and acting as Wu Song fighting the tiger on camera.

He was fast asleep, but Zhang Yang next to him tossed and turned, unable to sleep. The kid had been eyeing Liu Xiang's suit, and seeing that Liu Xiang was sound asleep, he sneakily got up, tiptoed over, and slipped the suit on. Surprisingly, it fit him quite well. Zhang Yang admired himself in the small mirror for a long time, already harboring wicked plans.

He was thinking of wearing it out to show off tomorrow, and he didn't plan to return it anyway, since Liu Xiang was leaving soon.

He was admiring himself when Zhao Dong, who was in the opposite bunk, woke up and spotted him immediately. Zhao Dong shuddered in fright, quickly closed his eyes, and didn't dare to breathe. A little while later, Zhang Yang took off his suit jacket, crumpled it into a ball, stuffed it into his blanket, and then lay down to sleep.

The first thing Liu Xiang did upon waking up the next morning was to reach for his suit jacket on the bedside table—it was empty! His heart skipped a beat, and he turned to Zhang Yang, asking, "Did you see my suit jacket?"

Zhang Yang rolled his eyes, stubbornly retorting, "Who saw your tattered suit? Whose fault is it if you didn't put it away properly?"

Zhao Dong, standing next to him, hunched his shoulders, his eyes unconsciously drifting towards Zhang Yang's bed.

Zhang Yang said arrogantly, "Don't think you're all that just because you bought a suit!"

Upon hearing this, Liu Xiang's anger flared up instantly. This suit was his only hope for the audition in Wuxi. He rushed over, pulled back Zhang Yang's blankets, and there lay the navy blue suit, nestled inside. Liu Xiang yanked it out; good heavens, the sleeves were all crumpled and wrinkled.

The two started tearing at each other, and unexpectedly, the suit got a hole in it.

"You fucking want to die!" Liu Xiang's eyes reddened. He had tolerated Zhang Yang stealing his steamed buns and robbing him of his change before, but this time, it was his Wu Song dream!

Zhang Yang was no pushover either. He reached out to snatch the suit, shouting, "It's just a tattered suit! You want to fight me? Is it really worth it!"

Now Liu Xiang was no coward. He grabbed Zhang Yang, pulled him by the collar, and swung his big fist at him.

The foundation laid by the Songshan Martial Arts School was no joke. Zhang Yang was immediately beaten black and blue, with blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He rolled on the ground, clutching his head, and kept shouting, "Brother, I was wrong, brother!"

Zhao Dong had already shrunk to the corner, his hands covering his head, not daring to look at anything.

Liu Xiang, panting heavily, looked at the torn suit in her hand, her heart sinking. She needed it for her trip to Wuxi; what was she going to do?

He arrived nervously at Kang Honglei's hotel, still clutching the tattered suit in his hand, wanting to apologize to Kang Honglei. Seeing his appearance and glancing at the suit, Kang Honglei immediately understood. Instead of scolding Liu Xiang, he patted him on the shoulder: "It's no big deal, come on, come inside with me."

The two entered the room, and Kang Honglei took out a suit from the closet. It was also navy blue, and the material was even better than Liu Xiang's. "Here," Kang Honglei said, handing the suit to him. "I bought this when I first entered the industry. I only wore it once. We're about the same size, so it will definitely fit you."

Liu Xiang was stunned: "How can that be!"

Kang Honglei took the tattered suit from his hand, shook it, grinned, and said, "This? I'll take it back, mend it, and wear it myself. What haven't we men worn? A tattered suit is nothing."

Looking at the suit in his hand, then at Kang Honglei, Liu Xiang felt a lump in his throat and almost burst into tears. He gripped the suit tightly, his mind filled with only one thought: this time in Wuxi, he must land the role of Wu Song and never betray Kang Honglei's trust.

When the two arrived at Beijing Railway Station with their luggage, the sun was high in the sky, and the station was packed with people. There were villagers carrying snakeskin bags on their shoulders, cadres in shirts, and college students carrying military satchels. The noise of the crowd, mixed with the train whistles, was so loud it could lift the roof off.

Liu Xiang leaned against the railing and looked out, her eyes filled with a sea of ​​heads. She couldn't help but click her tongue in amazement: "This Beijing train station is truly packed with people."

Kang Honglei, with a cigarette dangling from his lips, was about to offer one to Liu Xiang when he pulled his hand back halfway through, slapping his forehead: "Look at my memory, you don't smoke." He turned around and bought a bag of peanuts and two packs of Beijing instant noodles from the snack vendor, then handed them to Liu Xiang, "Have something to eat on the way, we can chat while we eat."

The two could finally sit down in peace for a while. Kang Honglei lit a cigarette and went over the things to note for the audition in Wuxi with Liu Xiang, saying that Director Zhang looked serious, but he actually loved acting skills the most. Liu Xiang ate peanuts and listened to Director Kang's instructions, but her eyes couldn't help but glance out the window.

The green train clattered away from the platform, and the scenery outside the window gradually changed from tall buildings to field ridges. The dry winter fields stretched into the distance, with wisps of smoke rising from distant villages, and even the air was filled with the earthy, rustic fragrance. Liu Xiang leaned against the train window, her mind a jumble of thoughts.

Liu Xiang suddenly felt that being able to embark on a dream about Wu Song in the winds of the 1990s was the most wonderful thing.

He looked at Director Kang beside him and felt a strange sense of reassurance.