Chapter 119: Falling in Love with You Makes Me Happy!
Chapter 119: "Falling in Love with You Makes Me So Happy"
Singing "Courage" truly requires courage.
When this song by Asia’s queen of love ballads, Fish Leong, was all the rage, it seemed to play everywhere—from bustling streets to quiet alleys. No matter which street you walked down, the loudspeakers would carry the familiar melody: "Finally made this decision, no matter what they say, I don't care, as long as you feel the same certainty."
Some enthusiastic observers even ranked the frequency of this song's airplay alongside the ubiquitous "Final three-day clearance sale, don’t miss out" as the top hits of that year’s local shops.
Its popularity was so widespread that everyone from eighty-year-old grandmothers to eight-year-old children could hum a few lines. So, singing this song well and standing out was far from an easy feat.
Would Tang Zhong be able to bring a different feeling to it?
“Benben,” Bai Su scolded Zhang Heben, “don’t discourage Tang Zhong. We don’t want this hot-tempered guy getting angry and storming off.” She added, “Just listen to Tang Zhong sing. Maybe he’ll surprise us again. Last time, you said he couldn’t dance, didn’t he dance really well? Look how many people online are still sharing your dance from the Mingzhu TV Centennial Celebration—”
“Last time, it was you all who didn’t believe he could dance,” Zhang Heben chuckled. “This time, I think he can’t sing. Even if he can, it won’t be good.”
“Hmph. I believe in Little Heart,” A-KEN said angrily. “Little Heart is so cute, how could he not sing? Besides, his speaking voice is so gentle.”
Zhang Heben curled her lips. “You’d say your Little Heart’s fart smells like perfume?”
“Does it?” A-KEN sniffed hard. “I honestly didn’t catch any bad smell.”
“-------”
“Are you going to let me sing or not?” Tang Zhong smiled.
“Sing,” Bai Su and A-KEN said in unison.
“Then no more talking,” Tang Zhong said.
“Okay, quiet. Everyone, hush,” Bai Su made a shushing gesture.
Tang Zhong cleared his throat and began to gather his emotions.
Bai Su, A-KEN, Zhang Heben, Lin Huiyin, and others sat around in anticipation, waiting eagerly.
One second—
Two seconds—
Several seconds—
“Whew—” Tang Zhong exhaled. “Can you stop staring at me like that? You’re making me nervous.”
“Hmph,” Zhang Heben complained. “You’re just looking for trouble. People who can sing aren’t afraid of being heard.”
“I’m not scared of being heard,” Tang Zhong patiently explained. “I just keep wanting to laugh whenever I look at your face—”
“Why?”
“Because you look so ridiculous,” Tang Zhong said. Zhang Heben’s face was soft, plump, and fair, her big round eyes sparkling and fixed on him, her body leaning forward, the loose neckline of her white Spider-Man T-shirt sliding down to reveal a tempting cleavage and two generous mounds of creamy flesh—her expression so earnest, her chest so alluring, Tang Zhong simply couldn’t concentrate.
“Go to hell,” Zhang Heben snapped, then pounced on Tang Zhong, wrapping her arms tightly around him, her mouth searching for a place to bite—
This time, she sank her teeth into Tang Zhong’s neck.
“Benben, let go! You’re going to bite him and make him bleed,” Bai Su ran over to intervene. She was used to scenes like this.
“Benben, don’t break the skin! Oh dear, a man with a scarred face is a serious problem—”
Lin Huiyin watched coldly, sipping her plain water quietly, as if nothing happening in front of her concerned her.
“Ptooey—” Zhang Heben finally let go, spitting repeatedly. “So salty.”
“I knew you’d bite me, so I didn’t wash for two days,” Tang Zhong said, touching the marks on his neck. There were only two rows of teeth marks, no blood—she had gone easy on him.
“Gross.” Hearing that, Zhang Heben couldn’t take it anymore. She jumped up from the sofa and ran upstairs to brush her teeth.
Seeing Zhang Heben leave, Bai Su urged, “Tang Zhong, hurry up and sing.”
She also thought Zhang Heben was more likely to cause trouble here, making it hard for Tang Zhong to get in the zone.
Tang Zhong nodded. “Give me the music.”
“I got it,” A-KEN said as he went to the computer and found “Courage,” but muted the original vocals.
Tang Zhong closed his eyes, his fingers tapping gently on his thigh to the rhythm.
“Finally made this decision, no matter what they say, I don’t care—”
At first, his voice was a little awkward, a bit shy.
Many can sing. Whether good or bad, almost everyone can sing. But few have the courage to stand in front of others and sing.
“As long as you feel the same certainty, I’m willing to follow you to the ends of the earth. I know it won’t be easy—”
Tang Zhong gradually fell into the mood.
He thought of sunshine, the roof of Henshan Prison, the free wind, distant green hills and waters, and the towering chimney of the brick factory eternally spewing black smoke—
Tang Zhong had loved fighting, dancing, learning to use stones as darts to shoot birds with a lame uncle, lock picking and sheep herding, concocting aphrodisiacs—
He loved Tang poetry and Song lyrics, enjoyed calligraphy. Like countless young students, he also loved listening to music and singing.
During the winter and summer breaks, when familiar inmates were transferred or sent to work, Tang Zhong would climb up to the prison roof alone, clutching a cassette player, pockets full of tapes from Andy Lau, Jacky Cheung, Waterwood Years, or Fish Leong, playing one side, then the other, over and over—having a cassette player was a big deal at the mountain school he attended; he was the high, rich, and handsome star of the school.
Everyone has a coming-of-age period. Back then, Tang Zhong would sometimes stare at the sky or stars with a foolish, dreamy expression, pondering questions like why we live, where we come from, and where we’re going—questions that sounded profound but were really nonsense.
Fortunately, those questions had no answers, but today he could give Bai Su a surprise.
We all need courage
To believe we can be together
In the crowded crowd I can feel you
Your true heart resting in my palm
-------
Tang Zhong finished singing but heard no applause.
It was a blow to his confidence. He remembered winning first place in the New Year’s singing contest in his first-grade class at Henshan Middle School—though there were only thirty-five students in the class, seven of whom performed, one sang the children’s song “Counting Ducks,” another sang the revolutionary anthem “The East is Red.”
He smiled awkwardly. “See? I told you I wasn’t good. You didn’t believe me. I was just humming nonsense. No formal training, and haven’t sung for a long time—”
“Little Heart!” A-KEN suddenly shouted.
He jumped off the sofa and lunged at Tang Zhong.
Tang Zhong leaned to one side, letting him—no, her—crash onto the sofa.
Even so, he was ecstatic, shouting as if in the throes of ecstasy, “Little Heart, you’re a genius, a genius! I love you so much, I really love you!”
Tang Zhong completely ignored A-KEN’s confession and turned to Bai Su, his eyes shining like a hungry wolf, asking, “Do you think I sang well?”
“Very good,” Bai Su said. “Raw and natural.”
“What does that mean?”
“Do you smoke?” Bai Su asked.
“No.”
“Drink?”
“Occasionally.”
“You’ve lived in the mountains for years, so your voice is naturally pure, giving a clean and transparent feeling, untouched by pollution. Just now, you put your emotions into it—I was easily drawn into the song’s mood. You sang so well it almost made me cry.”
“Am I really that good?” Tang Zhong was surprised. “I’ve always been shy about singing. Even when my dorm mates dragged me to karaoke, I refused—except for that one award at school, no one’s ever said I sing well. I just thought I was bad.”
Thinking of Tang Zhong’s background, Bai Su sighed. “There are many talented horses in the world, but they need a good judge to appreciate them. You grew up in prison; who would understand your talent? But has Xu Sanjin ever heard you sing?”
“He did ask me to sing once, but I didn’t agree,” Tang Zhong smiled. “And when we were together, we mostly talked about dancing. He taught, I learned. At other times—we were both busy.”
Perhaps because his life had been so harsh, Teacher Xu Sanjin was a solitary man. He had been bullied in prison, and Tang Zhong had helped him once. So Xu told Tang Zhong he could dance and asked if he wanted to learn. Tang Zhong thought dancing was cool and a great way to impress girls, so he agreed.
But once, when Tang Zhong gave Xu a small bottle of erguotou liquor, Xu drank it all in one go, his eyes reddened, and he began to cry, grabbing Tang Zhong’s hand and asking if he could sing “Falling in Love with You Makes Me So Happy.”
Tang Zhong agreed, but Xu never heard it—he was already dead drunk, slumped under the table like a lifeless dog.
Later, Tang Zhong learned that “Falling in Love with You Makes Me So Happy” was his wife’s breakthrough hit. He had written the lyrics and music alone, choreographed the dance for the music video, and starred as the male lead. In the video, they were a perfect match, gazing at each other with eyes dripping honey.
Later, he killed her.