Chapter Seventy: The Charitable Dancer

Chapter Seventy: The Philanthropic Dancer

A child wishes to care for his parents, but they are no longer there. This was a regret that haunted Zhang Le in his previous life.

Now, in this world, Zhang Le’s parents were alive and well, and he had an elder brother. The family’s bonds ran deep, and their relationship was harmonious. Because of this, Zhang Le cherished his family all the more, holding these ties close to his heart.

Having been reborn, with memories from both lives now fused together, his feelings for his family had only deepened, not faded. He called home often and regularly sent money, no matter how much he earned—he never once stopped.

Especially recently, Zhang Le had wired five hundred thousand in one go back home, keeping only a bit of pocket money for himself. This was why, when Lin Guofu looked into him before approaching, he found that Zhang Le had only about two hundred thousand at hand.

He gave Yang Xin’er songs without accepting a cent. The songs he performed brought in little income. Of them, “Ephemeral Fireworks” earned the most: for writing, composing, and singing, Chen Ke paid him one hundred thousand.

A hundred thousand wasn’t much for Zhang Le back then, but it wasn’t little either. In these days, with the record industry in decline, selling a song for several tens of thousands was already quite decent. Besides, for a blockbuster’s much-anticipated theme song, there were plenty willing to pay out of pocket just for the opportunity, let alone receive payment.

However, after “Awaiting Return” became a box office hit, Chen Ke and Zhou Run each gifted him a one hundred thousand yuan red envelope. That was generous enough.

His biggest earnings actually came from the reality show “With You All the Way.” Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to send so much back home.

Of course, the main reason was that before, Zhang Le simply had no money to save; now, it was that he couldn’t keep any saved.

In this life, he was born into a poor family—so much so that only one of the two brothers could go to school. There was nothing for him to save. In his past life, Zhang Le was a solitary man with no family burdens, a typical “moonlighter” who spent whatever he earned, never caring where the money went.

Whatever he earned, he spent, and often had no clue where it all went.

After appearing on “With You All the Way,” his performance fees shot up to four hundred thousand, and now with the release of “Crazy Stone,” his quote had soared further to six hundred thousand.

Yet, if you told anyone, no one would believe that Zhang Le’s total assets didn’t even reach a million.

A million could build a mansion in his hometown, but it wasn’t enough to buy an apartment in Yanjing, and Zhang Le’s expenses had increased as well. So when Yang Xin’er brought up buying a home, Zhang Le lacked confidence.

“Are you homesick?”

After breakfast, Yang Xin’er glanced at Zhang Le. She could tell something was off since his phone call.

“Mm.” Zhang Le nodded, then continued, “I haven’t been back in years. Honestly, I want to go back every year, but every time I think of how little I’ve accomplished, I feel ashamed. I’m afraid to face them, especially my brother.”

Yang Xin’er didn’t interrupt, choosing instead to be a quiet listener. She could see Zhang Le needed to let his feelings out.

“My brother’s name is Zhang Huan, two years older than me. My father named us with the words ‘le’ and ‘huan’—joy and happiness—hoping we’d both live joyfully,” Zhang Le said, lost in memory. “When we were young, we really were happy. But as we grew up and became more aware, that carefree happiness faded, and we had to face difficult choices.”

“My brother’s grades were excellent. He wasn’t a top scorer, didn’t get into Yanjing or Tsinghua, but he made it into a good university. Sadly, my father’s health was poor—serious illnesses now and then, minor ones constantly. Our family simply couldn’t afford to send both brothers to school.”

“We fought over who should go, even came to blows,” Zhang Le looked at Yang Xin’er, eyes moist. “But we weren’t fighting over who got to go—we fought over who wouldn’t. My brother said, ‘The eldest is like a father; I’m the big brother, I should take responsibility for the family.’ I couldn’t win against him, or rather, I didn’t have his resolve deep down. He gave up college, went out to work, and supported my education.”

“But I’ve been out of school for so long and achieved nothing. I’m afraid to see them, especially my brother.” Zhang Le shook his head, calmed himself, and continued quietly, “When I became the top scorer in Bashu Province, there was disagreement over what university to choose. It was my brother who persuaded my parents in the end.”

“Back then, I stubbornly applied to the Film Academy—not because I loved film, or wanted to save Chinese cinema seeing its decline. I just saw how movies made tens of millions, hundreds of millions, even billions at the box office, and naïvely thought directors must make a lot of money, and quickly. I only wanted to earn a lot, fast, to change my family’s life. That was all.”

“For people like us from the mountains, even if you graduate from a prestigious university, you just find a job and work for others. How much can you make working for someone else? A hundred thousand, a million? Nowhere near as much or as quickly as making movies. But after I studied film, I realized how unrealistic I’d been. Directors could make money, but most just struggled at the bottom. It’s so hard to succeed here! And with my temper, it was even harder.”

“If not for meeting you, if not for Feng Lei’s help, I might not have even had enough to eat. I must have done something right in a past life for Heaven to favor me and let me meet you!”

“My luck was truly meeting you,” Yang Xin’er whispered, resting in Zhang Le’s arms.

It was the first time Zhang Le had spoken to her about his family. From his words, she could feel the great burden he carried.

Yet, under such pressure, Zhang Le still held to his principles and never compromised for money or fame. With his talent, even if he didn’t rise quickly, he’d never have struggled this much unless he had insisted on his integrity.

Yang Xin’er admired him all the more for it.

They sat together quietly in the apartment for a while, calming their hearts, then headed to the studio.

With “Crazy Stone” a box office smash, the studio was full of joy, and everyone’s spirits were high. The film’s success meant a bright future for the studio.

“Director Zhang, Teacher Yang Li is here to see you,” a staff member said, knocking and entering.

“Yang Li?” Zhang Le was puzzled. “Which Yang Li?”

“The famous dancer, Yang Li,” answered the staffer.

“The philanthropic dancer, Yang Li?” Zhang Le asked in surprise. Seeing the staffer nod, he said at once, “Please, show her in!”

Yang Li was a renowned dance artist in China, with an excellent international reputation. She was passionate about charity, taking part in and organizing countless charity performances. Her network in the arts world was vast, and her influence significant.

Though in her forties, Yang Li was well maintained—she looked barely over thirty. Her bearing was unique, her dress imbued with a strong national style, yet still fashionable, blending perfectly with her temperament and giving off an artistic aura that felt like a refreshing spring breeze.

“Teacher Yang, welcome! Please, have a seat,” Zhang Le greeted her warmly.

“Director Zhang, it’s a pleasure,” Yang Li replied politely, nodding. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry for dropping in unannounced,” Yang Li went straight to the point as she sat. “A few days ago, I saw your ‘Crazy Stone’ in the cinema, and ever since, a particular dance from the film keeps replaying in my mind. I’d like to bring it onto the stage.”

“The Thousand-Handed Guanyin!” Zhang Le exclaimed in surprise.