Huayu 2014: From Traffic Stars to Superstars

Chapter 83 The KFC Incident

When Zhang Yixing went to the restroom, Sun Honglei was eating a hamburger.

He took a bite, chewed twice, and his gaze fell on the silver briefcase that Zhang Yixing had placed next to the chair.

The box sat there quietly, like an unsuspecting child.

Sun Honglei's jaw dropped for a moment, then he put down the hamburger and reached out to pull the box to his feet.

He unzipped the suitcase and peeked inside. Inside Zhang Yixing's suitcase were ten gold bars, exactly the ten he'd said he'd give to someone born in October.

Sun Honglei hesitated for a moment, then closed the box and put it back in its original place.

Then he picked up his hamburger, took a bite, and as he chewed, his gaze drifted back to the box.

"I didn't steal from him," he muttered to the camera, his tone carrying a self-deprecating humor that suggested he had gone too far. "I was protecting him. This kid is too naive; he'll suffer in the real world. I'm teaching him a lesson."

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Although the butterfly effect allowed them to get the hamburgers and drinks immediately in this timeline, the "KFC incident" still unfolded as scheduled.

Sun Honglei grabbed his hamburger and two boxes, ran out, and drove away.

Soon, Sun Honglei got into the car, a white sedan, the engine was already running, and the car sped off.

A while later, back in his seat, Zhang Yixing, who had just taken a bite of his hamburger, stood at the KFC entrance, still clutching the half-eaten hamburger in his hand.

His expression changed from "doubt" to "confusion", from "confusion" to "shock", and from "shock" to "grievance".

He lowered his head, his mouth opened and closed, the change in the curve of his mouth seemed to be slowed down, going from open to closed, and then from closed to open again, repeating this several times.

"Brother Honglei...no way!" His voice was very soft, as if he was afraid of disturbing something, or as if he didn't know who to talk to anymore.

He stood there, at the entrance of KFC in Qibao Huibao Shopping Plaza in Shanghai, clutching half a hamburger in his hand, like a child in a white shirt forgotten by his parents at the supermarket entrance.

The photographer following him stood behind him with his equipment, the lens steadily zoomed in on his face.

Zhang Yixing's eyes weren't red, but his expression was more distressing than if he had cried. It was a kind of bewilderment, like "I thought you were real," a feeling that had been re-educated by the world.

He stood there for about ten seconds, then looked down at the hamburger in his hand, and then looked up at the direction Sun Honglei had left in.

He stuffed the last bite of the hamburger into his mouth, chewing slowly, as if trying to swallow the indescribable taste along with it.

He didn't cry.

But the image of him standing at the entrance of KFC later brought tears to the eyes of countless viewers when the program aired.

After Sun Honglei drove away, he remained silent.

His expression on camera changed from "triumphant" to "unease," and from "unease" to "regret."

He was driving, but not very fast, as if he didn't know where to go.

He glanced down at the two boxes on the passenger seat, then looked up at the rearview mirror, as if anticipating something—whether he expected a white figure to catch up from behind, or a phone call to scold him.

But there was nothing there.

He drove for about two or three hundred meters, then slammed on the brakes and pulled the car over to the side of the road.

He sat in the driver's seat, his hands gripping the steering wheel, staring at the asphalt road ahead that gleamed white in the May sunlight, and remained silent for a long time.

"I really fooled Yixing. I think that kid will go crazy. I feel like I'm a terrible person. This kid is too naive. I wouldn't feel this way if I fooled Huang Lei."

He said, his voice not loud, facing the camera, yet also as if facing the direction he had already left behind, "That kid really believed me."

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He started the car, turned around, and drove back. He wanted to go back to pick up Zhang Yixing; this thought had been clear from the moment he stepped on the brake. He wanted to return the suitcase to him, tell him, "I was just kidding," and then see him give him a simple smile and say, "Brother Honglei, stop fooling around."

But when he drove back to the KFC, Zhang Yixing was no longer there.

Sun Honglei got out of the car, stood in front of KFC, and looked around.

Zhang Yixing is not included.

"Where did this child go?" His voice was filled with panic, completely different from his previous confident "I'm going to teach him a lesson."

He stood at the entrance of KFC, clutching his phone, like a big dog that had just thrown a toy but it hadn't come back.

The photographer following him stood behind him, the camera steadily zoomed in on his face.

His expression changed from regret to worry, and then from worry to self-doubt, wondering if he had really done something wrong.

He got back into the car and, instead of chasing Zhang Yixing, drove aimlessly forward.

He didn't know where Zhang Yixing had gone; all he knew was that the child who trusted him was now nowhere to be found.

Unbeknownst to him, Zhang Yixing was walking towards the subway station at that moment.

Zhang Yixing stood in the subway station for a long time.

He stood in the crowd at the subway station, like a lost child.

People passed by him, some glanced at him, but no one stopped.

He stood there, amidst the crowds at the Shanghai subway station, clutching his task phone.

He stood there thinking for a long time, and then made a decision.

He walked into the subway station passage, stood in an empty corner, cleared his throat, and began to sing.

There was no accompaniment, no sound system, and not even a lyric booklet.

He sang "I Believe I Can Fly," a classic English song he practiced countless times during his EXO days.

At the time, he had just lost his gold bar box to his trusted older brother, Sun Honglei, and was penniless, forced to rely on "performing" in the subway station.

Raising money to buy subway tickets.

As he sang this inspirational song, his eyes welled up with tears as he recalled the promises made when the alliance was formed.

But his voice was a little hoarse at that moment. After singing a few lines, someone stopped, glanced at him, and then left.

After singing a few more lines, a girl in a school uniform stopped, took out a five-yuan bill from her schoolbag, and placed it on the ground in front of him.

Then came the second, the third, the fifth, and the tenth.

Someone recognized him.

"Are you... Zhang Yixing?" A young girl wearing glasses stopped and stared at him for several seconds, her expression one of disbelief, as if to say, "Isn't this the idol I know?"

Zhang Yixing glanced at him, but didn't answer, and continued singing.

The girl took out her phone, filmed a video, and posted it on her WeChat Moments with the caption, "I ran into Zhang Yixing busking at the subway station. What's going on?"

The post on WeChat Moments was screenshotted and posted on Weibo within minutes, and then forwarded thousands of times. The incident escalated much faster than Zhang Yixing had imagined; in just over ten minutes, —Zhang Yixing busking in the subway—had become a trending topic.

Someone laughed in the comments: "Is this what 'Extreme Challenge' is all about?"

'

Some people commented with sympathy: "How could this child be so pitiful?"

One person angrily commented: "Sun Honglei! Give me back Sheep Xing's box!"

'

One commenter analyzed, "He was probably recording a show; the production team wouldn't really let him busk alone in the subway station."

Meanwhile, others were moving toward the old dock.

When Huang Lei arrived at the meeting point, his shirt was already soaked with sweat.

His electric scooter ran out of power halfway through the journey. He pushed it for nearly a kilometer along the roadside before finding a place to charge it. An elderly man living by the roadside kindly helped him take out the battery, charged it, and even poured him a cup of herbal tea.

Huang Lei sat under the shade of a tree in front of the old man's house, holding a cup of cold tea, and reflected on life to the camera:

Sometimes you just have to accept your fate. No matter how well you calculate, if the battery is dead, it's dead.

Doesn't this resemble life? You think you've planned everything out, but then a small accident disrupts all your plans.

In middle age, the most important thing is to learn to coexist with unexpected events.

After recounting his feelings, Huang Lei downed his herbal tea in one gulp, patted his thigh, stood up, grinned at the camera, and said, "Alright, I've rested enough. We still have a long way to go. When you reach middle age, if you fall, you have to get up on your own. Nobody waits for you."

He returned the teacup to the old man, thanking him three times. The old man waved his hand, saying, "It's nothing, it's nothing," and then reminded him—

He said, "The battery has been charging for more than half an hour, that should be enough for you to get to the city."

Huang Lei put the battery back in the old man's car, plugged it in, and turned the handle; the dial lit up.

He waved to the old man, got on his old man's motorcycle, and slowly turned onto the main road.

"This kind of 'old man's electric vehicle' is a type with a huge market," he said to the camera as he rode, "economical, environmentally friendly, and energy-saving, especially suitable for us 66-year-olds."

Before he finished speaking, the indicator light on the dial flashed twice and then went out completely.

The car stopped again.

Huang Lei looked down at the instrument panel, then looked up at the long asphalt road ahead, and remained silent for three seconds.

"6

Okay, I take back what I just said.

"6

He parked the old man's car on the side of the road, got out, and pushed it away.

The photographer followed behind, carrying his equipment, the lens steadily focused on his sweat-soaked back.

Huang Lei pushed the car for about 500 meters before finally seeing a bus stop sign on the roadside. He locked the electric car to the railing next to the sign and boarded a bus that had just pulled into the station.

"I don't want this thing anymore," he said to the camera. "Whoever finds it is lucky."

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The bus swayed and rattled for nearly an hour, passing through residential areas along the way. Occasionally, a few elderly women carrying shopping baskets could be seen chatting by the roadside outside the window.

Huang Lei leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes, and his expression was as calm as that of a middle-aged man who had just "made peace with himself." The sense of relaxation that came from "I accept it, so I don't need to rush anymore" spread across him, making him look several years younger than the person in front of him who was pushing a cart and was covered in sweat.

Meanwhile, Huang Bo had already entered the subway station, and Wang Xun jogged after him, calling out, "Brother Bo, can you swipe my card for me? I don't have any money."

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Huang Bo didn't turn around and strode towards the turnstile, his tone carrying a firm, teasing tone that said, "I'm going to teach you a lesson today." He replied, "What do you want from me? I don't have any money. Figure it out yourself."

"You have money in your card! Could you swipe it for me?"

"That's my own money, why should I give it to you? Go talk to the production team."

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Wang Xun stood outside the turnstile, watching Huang Bo swipe his card to enter the station. He froze on the spot, his expression like that of a golden retriever abandoned by its owner at the entrance of a pet store.

He wanted to go in, but the turnstile stopped him. He wanted to go back, but the people in line behind him were watching him.

He stood at the turnstile for about ten seconds, then turned around and walked dejectedly toward the manual ticket window, even though he had no money on him.

Fortunately, a kind person swiped his card for him.

Huang Bo had already reached the platform. The subway arrived, he boarded, and found a seat.

He showed off the gold bars in his box to an old man and sang a song for a child, winning 100 yuan from the parent.

A young girl walked over from another carriage, sat down next to him, glanced at him, then glanced at him again, and then froze.

"Are you...Professor Huang Bo?"

Huang Bo glanced at her; the girl was carrying two lunchboxes, her expression somewhere between "I want an autograph" and "I'm about to faint." He smiled: "You know me?"

The girl nodded vigorously: "I've seen all your movies! I've watched 'Crazy Stone' several times!"

5

Huang Bo looked at her lunchbox: "Haven't eaten yet?"

'

"Yeah, I just left the company and am going home to eat."

Huang Bo was silent for two seconds: "Then you eat first, don't go hungry."

.

The girl paused for a moment, then opened the lunchbox. Inside were beef and dried bean curd strips, which looked quite appetizing.

Then, on a sudden inspiration, he said, "Teacher Huang, you can have it. I can buy more."

Huang Bo, with a bright smile, accepted the offer with a touch of embarrassment.

Wang Xun eventually boarded the subway, but he couldn't find Huang Bo.

He was squeezed into the middle of the carriage by the crowd, standing the whole way, holding onto the handrails with both hands, like a tree planted in the carriage, with a calm acceptance of his fate, as if saying, "I will never be in the same group as Huang Bo again."

When the final mission message was sent to everyone's phones, Gao Huan was drinking ice water in the back seat of a Cadillac.

He glanced down at the screen, which was Wang Zijian's lawyer-like tone: "Gentlemen, the real gold bar war has begun."

Next, the person with the most gold bars is eliminated, the person with the fewest gold bars is eliminated, and the person with the same number of gold bars is eliminated. The person with the most gold bars among the remaining players wins!

Tonight at 8 PM, we will determine the final winner! Eight hours to go, everyone keep going!

'

After reading the message, Gao Huan locked the screen and didn't rush to do anything.

He mentally reviewed the approximate number of gold bars each person had: Wang Xun should have 18, he himself 20, Zhang Yixing 10, Huang Lei and Huang Bo each had nearly 30, and Luo Zhixiang around 23.

As for Sun Honglei, Gao Huan thought about it and wasn't sure. That person is too unpredictable; you can't use normal logic to deduce his identity.

-

"Master, let's go pick someone up first," Gao Huan said.

The car turned a corner and headed towards the location posted by Luo Zhixiang.

Show Lo was so badly injured by chicken feathers and droppings that he was barely recognizable. Standing by the roadside, his coat was covered in white fluff, and he looked like he had just escaped from a chicken farm.