Chapter Sixty-two: Passionate Brahmin

Chengdu, Sichuan—a city known as the Heavenly Land, also called Hibiscus City and Brocade City.

The average annual temperature in Chengdu hovers around sixteen degrees Celsius, with a pleasant, slightly humid climate. The rich culinary culture of Sichuan and the warmth of its people are vividly embodied in this city: spicy chicken, green pepper chicken, bang bang chicken, marinated rabbit heads, and of course, there are always skewers and hotpot. In your leisure time, a bowl of “Heartbreaking Cold Noodles” will leave your taste buds reeling.

On the streets of Chengdu, beauties of breathtaking elegance dazzle the eyes, while the bamboo tea houses, fragrant with tea, can transport you to the refined elegance of the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove in the Wei and Jin dynasties. This city is truly a heavenly palace, a paradise on earth.

Chengdu boasts its most famous old street: Jinli.

Jinli, the old Brocade Official’s City.

In the Jin dynasty, Chang Qu once wrote in the “Chronicles of Huayang—Shu Records”: “The prefecture took over the county’s literary institutions for its own use; the county then established a new literary hall on the east road south of Yili Bridge, with parapet walls along the west city. That is the Brocade Palace. Brocade artisans wove here; the brocade washed in this river was bright and clear, while in other rivers it was not. Thus, it was named Jinli.”

Without setting foot on Jinli Ancient Street, one could never truly feel its bustling prosperity. Especially after sunset, when hundreds of red lanterns illuminate the entire street, reflecting off the traditional architecture, creating a stunning spectacle for those wandering within.

In recent years, the idol boy group “BRAVE” and the idol girl group “HOPE” have risen rapidly in popular culture, and their management company’s headquarters is located right in Jinli. Passing through the throngs of tourists on Jinli Ancient Street, turning a corner and walking a hundred meters or so, you reach the entrance to the company’s headquarters.

“Boss, want to team up for a game?”

If not occupied with rehearsals or performances, this is the kind of message Jin Fanyin receives around fifty times a day. His happiest moments are spent chewing on beef jerky while battling fiercely with his teammates on his phone.

Jin Fanyin is the captain of the boy idol group “BRAVE.” He remembers being born in an era when men rarely took photos, yet he debuted in a time when men would not leave the house without makeup, all thanks to a talent show that led him to become a member of “BRAVE.”

Jin Fanyin excels at dance and knows many instruments, including the guqin. He is loyal and talented, highly valued by the management company, and respected by other team members.

To be honest, being an artist is not easy. Especially for teenagers—what used to be called child stars in the last century are now called idols. And as idols, most inevitably carry the burden of maintaining their image.

But Jin Fanyin has no such burden. Once, he posted a photo on social media showing himself with a scruffy beard, shirtless in tattered shorts, gnawing on a watermelon rind. After gaining three hundred thousand likes, he was severely reprimanded by the company.

“You’re not just yourself; your image represents all of ‘BRAVE.’ We’re an idol group! Looking like that will cost you fans. Why not just post a naked photo?”

His manager dragged him into the office for a harsh scolding.

So, Jin Fanyin posted another photo—this time, a shot from behind, sitting completely naked while eating watermelon rind. Instantly, it garnered eight hundred thousand likes, and his fan count soared.

But the photo was quickly “404’d.” The company also received a stern warning and a fine from a mysterious government department known only as “the authorities.”

Because of this, Jin Fanyin worked without pay for an entire year and almost lost his captaincy. Yet during his year of “voluntary labor,” he was the hardest working and busiest in all the gigs, and still found time to negotiate with the company for higher salaries for his teammates. With “BRAVE”’s skyrocketing popularity, the year-end bonuses for everyone tripled compared to the previous year.

Except for him.

That is why his team adore him. Their way of showing it is by constantly inviting him to team up for games. If you’re a man, and another man asks you to play games with him every day, that’s true love. Jin Fanyin’s real “burden” is simply that his teammates invite him to play too much. Far too much.

Fortunately, he’s disciplined. Apart from gaming during holidays, he established a rule for the whole team: when there’s a performance, everyone must rehearse overtime, take every show seriously, and respect every fan.

Jin Fanyin always told his teammates, “We may not make much money, but our fans are far poorer. If someone’s willing to eat instant noodles for half a month just to see you perform, what’s a little more sweat or a few less hours of sleep?”

After ten hours of rehearsal in the dance studio, when everyone else collapsed on the floor, Jin Fanyin—sweat-soaked himself—would come in with dry towels and bottled water for everyone, and squat down to wipe the sweat from the wooden floor.

“It’s still not enough!” he would say as he cleaned. “Look at the girls from ‘HOPE’ next door—some are two or three years younger than us, yet they train even harder, and injuries are routine. I’ve never heard them complain.”

“Boss, you’ve got a crush on HOPE’s Sun Xiaoming, don’t you?” someone teased. “Last time when people online were calling them ‘green tea’ girls, I saw you defend Sun Xiaoming on social media.”

“You’d better stop with that nonsense, or the company will cancel my contract and I’ll retire early! You won’t have me as your captain anymore,” Jin Fanyin replied with a wry smile.

“That won’t do! If you leave, who’ll bring us water and towels?” another boy chimed in.

Someone else added, “But you can still join us for team battles.”

“Boss, remember to come see us!” Their teasing was laced with brotherhood.

“If you keep roasting me, I’ll cancel break time and we’ll keep rehearsing!” Jin Fanyin threatened, putting on his poker face.

A chorus of mocking groans rose from the rehearsal room.

That evening, when Jin Fanyin was called to the big boss’s office, he was still practicing with the others. Sweaty and clad in a plain T-shirt, a towel draped around his neck, he walked the quiet corridor, mind racing through recent events—what trouble could he have caused?

Was there a problem with the tour? Did a reality show investor pull out? Being an artist meant trouble was never far away. Breaking news, bad news, even blackmail—these things became routine.

The boss’s office was huge—big enough to fit the entire “BRAVE” group standing inside. As he reached the door, he saw a figure coming from the other end of the corridor. The rhythmic clack of high heels echoed, like the beat of a strong young heart, reverberating in Jin Fanyin’s ears.

That commanding stride—it must be Sun Xiaoming, the captain of “HOPE.”

“BRAVE” and “HOPE” were known as sibling groups. Jin Fanyin was the mischievous, unreliable older brother; Sun Xiaoming, the mature and thoughtful younger sister. Yet she seemed to hold little regard for her “brother.”

As expected, Sun Xiaoming approached briskly, her ponytail swinging, dressed in a light brown sweater and dark plaid skirt—an outfit from their seventeen-week chart-topping single, “Song of the Universe.” She looked fresh from the stage, her performance makeup still intact.

“Hey, you were called here too?” Jin Fanyin greeted her.

“Yes. Our show just ended—came straight here from the stage, didn’t even have time to remove my makeup.” Sun Xiaoming, expressionless, dabbed at her brow with an oil blotter. “Usually it’s the manager who calls us. This time, the boss wants both captains—must be something urgent.”

“Did he message you on WeChat?”

“Yeah, why?”

“WeChat messages are only ‘somewhat trustworthy,’ never ‘completely.’ Otherwise, why call it WeChat? If it was truly urgent, he’d call.”

Sun Xiaoming shot him a glare. “Let’s hope it’s not bad news.”

Jin Fanyin was calm. “If I’m in trouble but someone else is here to share the blame, I’m fine with it.”

“Who says I’m sharing anything? ‘HOPE’ girls never get in trouble!” Sun Xiaoming retorted.

“The economy’s bad—maybe the company’s going bankrupt and we’re being disbanded?”

“Don’t jinx it!” Sun Xiaoming stomped on his foot with her heel. “Get out of the way!”

Clutching his ankle, Jin Fanyin grumbled, “That hurt! I was only kidding.”

“Don’t block the door, then—go in or move aside!”

Sun Xiaoming brushed past and knocked on the door.

A man’s voice answered, “Come in!”

She pushed the door open, and they stepped into the office.

The boss’s office was not only large; his desk was almost big enough to use as a conference table. To the left of the desk stood a stranger—a short-haired boy about their age, dressed in a pale blue, traditional-style robe, as if he’d walked off a period drama set.

The large executive chair was turned away from them. Upon hearing them enter, it swiveled around.

But the person in the chair was not the boss! It was another youth, also in a pale blue robe, but with longer hair and a silver earring in his left ear.

“Jin Fanyin and Sun Xiaoming, right? I like your songs—I’ve saved quite a few on my phone,” the youth with the silver earring stood up.

“Who are you two?” Sun Xiaoming asked uneasily. “Where’s the boss?”

The boy standing by the desk pointed to the ceiling.

Sun Xiaoming looked up—and nearly shrieked, hands flying to cover her mouth. The two-hundred-pound, portly boss was stuck to the ceiling as if glued there, drenched in cold sweat, with fat drops falling to the floor. He’d clearly been there a while.

Jin Fanyin stepped protectively in front of Sun Xiaoming. “Who are you? What do you want?”

The long-haired youth raised his right hand, moving his fingers. The door behind them banged shut and locked with a click. Sun Xiaoming instinctively rushed over to the door, twisting the handle, but it refused to budge.

“What are you doing? Why lock the door?” Sun Xiaoming shouted.

“We hoped to discuss something with your boss, but ran into a little problem.” The boy with the earring replied, “So we decided to talk directly to you two. After all, this matter doesn’t really concern your boss.”

“What do you mean?” Jin Fanyin asked.

“Let me introduce myself first,” the youth said. “My name is Taishang Xiaojun, and this is Huasheng. We come from a place where mortals, immortals, and spirits all live together.”

“Hello, police? This is—” Sun Xiaoming was already speaking into her phone, too busy to listen.

Suddenly, her phone flew out the window, instantly disintegrating into countless pieces that hovered motionless in the air.

Taishang Xiaojun said calmly, “Didn’t your parents teach you to look someone in the eye when they’re speaking?”

Before he’d finished, Jin Fanyin was also yelling into his phone: “Hello? Hello! Police? There are two lunatics—”

Instantly, Jin Fanyin’s phone grew red-hot and impossible to hold, clattering to the floor in a burst of sparks.

He looked at Sun Xiaoming’s floating phone parts outside, then at his own, now smoking on the floor, and shouted, “Why the double standard?”

Huasheng replied, “I heard Samsung phones catch fire more easily.”

So these two were definitely behind this! Jin Fanyin glared at them, furious.

Sun Xiaoming cried, “What kind of sorcery is this?”

Taishang Xiaojun said, “Don’t you kids know to respect your elders? Want me to turn you into your phones?”

Sun Xiaoming blushed scarlet, instinctively covering her chest and skirt.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Jin Fanyin protested. “If I get turned into my phone, I’ll end up as roast pork!”

“Fair? My foot!” Sun Xiaoming stomped hard on Jin Fanyin again. “You deserve to be burned!”

Her stiletto heel struck home, making Jin Fanyin see stars. “Sun Xiaoming, not so hard! If you don’t kill me, your shoes will!”

Taishang Xiaojun’s tone softened. “Time is short. If you don’t mind, let me explain. Simply put, we need both group captains and all members to drop everything. ‘BRAVE’ and ‘HOPE’ must come with us for a while.”

“What?” the two exclaimed. “Impossible! Our schedules are booked until next year. Do you know how much money the company loses if we cancel?”

Taishang Xiaojun turned to Huasheng. “That line sounds familiar. Where did I just hear it?”

Huasheng nodded thoughtfully. “Right! The last person to say that is now cooling off on the ceiling.”

Jin Fanyin and Sun Xiaoming fell silent.

Taishang Xiaojun continued, “As I said, we come from a place where humans, immortals, and spirits live together—a land called Shengpingning. What you saw just now was a simple trick. We reveal ourselves because your world is about to face an unprecedented catastrophe. We could stand by and let humanity perish, but instead, we choose to join forces with you to face this crisis together.”

He briefly explained how changes in the moon’s orbit could cause global floods, and why “BRAVE” and “HOPE” were chosen.

Jin Fanyin’s blood surged at these words. “Whoa! Isn’t this saving the world? I’ve never done anything more meaningful. I’m in!”

Taishang Xiaojun and Huasheng were about to nod in satisfaction.

“What do you mean, you’re in? You can go if you want,” Sun Xiaoming snapped. “Count me out!”