novellhall Chapter 31, "The Nameless Man" vs. "Ambition"
Chapter 31, "The Nameless Man" vs. "Ambition"
The next evening, on the East Third Ring Road.
Lu Han booked a Japanese restaurant hidden in the basement of an office building. It had no signboard, only a black wooden door.
Two security guards in suits stood at the door. After seeing Gao Huan and Yangyang Jin and confirming their identities, they pushed open the door.
The private room wasn't big, just a long table.
Lu Han had arrived and was sitting at the other end of the table, wearing a black turtleneck sweater and with her hair styled, looking more formal than usual.
Seeing Gao Huan enter, he stood up, a slight smile playing on his lips: "You've arrived?"
"You're here." Gao Huan took off his coat and handed it to Yangyang Jin, then sat down opposite Lu Han.
Yangyang Jin and Lu Han's assistants stayed in the rest area outside. After the door was closed, the private room was so quiet that only the hum of the air conditioner could be heard.
Lu Han poured Gao Huan a cup of tea, his movements unhurried and deliberate.
"Eat first, then we'll talk."
The dishes were served one by one. Sashimi, grilled dishes, boiled dishes, fried dishes—all beautifully presented, though the portions were small. Lu Han didn't eat much, putting down his chopsticks after a few bites. Gao Huan, on the other hand, ate quite a bit; he was indeed hungry after training all day.
Halfway through the meal, Lu Han put down his chopsticks, picked up his teacup, and looked at Gao Huan.
"Gao Huan, I'll be frank."
Gao Huan also put down his chopsticks and looked at him.
"I really like the song 'Medal'." Lu Han's tone was calm, not like he was just being polite.
Gao Huan didn't respond, waiting for him to continue.
"After returning to China, the company assigned me a lot of songs, some good, some average, and some I didn't really like." Lu Han paused, "but none of them were mine."
Gao Huan leaned back in his chair and looked at him.
Do you know what I mean?
Lu Han's fingers gently traced the rim of the glass. "Those songs, if sung by someone else, would have a similar effect. They aren't Lu Han's songs, they're 'songs sung by a singer named Lu Han'."
Gao Huan picked up his teacup and took a sip.
The tea is genmaicha, with a subtle aroma of roasted rice.
"I want you to write a song for me," Lu Han said. "You can write the lyrics and music, you name the price, and we can discuss the copyright."
The private room was silent for a few seconds.
Gao Huan put down his teacup and looked into Lu Han's eyes.
"Lu Ge, do you know my songwriting habits?"
Lu Han shook his head.
I only write stories I've heard.
Gao Huan said, "'One Meat and One Vegetable' is about my aunt, and 'Medals' are about those athletes. I can't write about things I haven't experienced."
Lu Han remained silent for a few seconds.
Then he said, "Then listen to my story."
Gao Huan looked at him.
Lu Han picked up his teacup and took a sip.
The tea had gone cold and had a slightly bitter taste.
He put down his cup, tapped his fingers lightly twice on the table, and then spoke.
"I went to South Korea when I was eighteen, all alone. I didn't speak Korean, I couldn't dance, and I couldn't sing."
Discovered at 20, I joined SM Entertainment as a trainee, training for over ten hours a day, to the point that my knees were swollen with fluid and my toenails were falling off.
"After practicing for more than a year, during one assessment, the teacher said that my dancing lacked emotion and only had movements."
Lu Han smiled slightly as he said this, a smile tinged with self-deprecation.
"At the time, I didn't understand what 'only action' meant."
I think I danced very well; my movements were standard, my rhythm was accurate, and my power was sufficient.
But the teacher said, "What you're doing isn't dancing, it's just movement."
"Later I realized that everything I did during those years in Korea was in line with idol standards."
Dancing is the standard, singing is the standard, even laughing is the standard.
The company requires us to practice in front of a mirror how many teeth to show and to what degree when we smile, until it becomes muscle memory.
Like a puppet.
Lu Han poured out the cold tea in the cup and poured a hot one instead.
The rising steam blurred his face.
"After returning to China, I thought things would be different."
But it seems the same.
Announcements, interviews, variety shows, recording songs.
The recording engineer said, "One more time," so I did it one more time, finished singing, left, and continued the next day.
He looked at Gao Huan with a very complex expression in his eyes.
"But when I listened to 'Medals,' I discovered that there were some things I really liked."
"The look in Fan Zhendong's eyes when he serves; the silhouette of Guo Jingjing standing on the diving board; you practicing your knife in the training hall, practicing the same move over and over again until your clothes are soaked with sweat."
That's yourself.
The private room remained quiet for a long time.
Gao Huan looked at Lu Han, and a thought flashed through his mind.
This person isn't just asking for songs; it's more like they're looking for someone.
Find someone who can understand what he's saying.
He needs to find someone who can turn what's in his heart into a song.
But shouldn't that person be Guan Xiaotong?
And does this young man in front of me even realize that he's just making a fuss over nothing, like that honest saying...
There are celebrities who earn 208 million a day, while many others earn less than 5000 a month on average…
Gao Huan stopped imagining things, picked up the teapot, and poured Lu Han a cup of tea. The fresh tea was poured into the cup, and steam rose.
"Brother Lu," Gao Huan said, "I can write a song. I already have an idea. It's called 'The Nameless Man'."
Lu Han's eyes lit up.
"But I need time." Gao Huan put down the teapot.
Lu Han nodded: "Any time is fine."
"Also," Gao Huan looked at him, "after you finish writing the song, I suggest you sing it in your own preferred way."
Lu Han was stunned for a moment.
"Can you do it?" Gao Huan asked.
Lu Han remained silent for a few seconds, then picked up his teacup and took a sip.
The tea was very hot, but he didn't put it down. He just held it there, as if using the warmth of the cup to calm himself down.
"Yes," he said.
There was only one word, but it was very heavy.
Gao Huan nodded, picked up his teacup, and clinked it against his.
The sound of the glasses clinking together was crisp and short.
The two stopped talking about the song and continued eating.
The food was already mostly cold, but no one paid any attention.
When they were almost finished eating, Lu Han suddenly put down his chopsticks and looked at Gao Huan.
"Gao Huan."
"Um."
Do you think I'm a good singer?
Gao Huan looked at him, thought for a moment, and said:
"You're not one yet, but you can be. I don't think you're suited to be an idol; you'd be better suited to be a singer."
Lu Han paused for a moment, then smiled.
That felt so real, like it really came from my heart.
"I've got it."
Also, don't think you can discourage me, your competitor, with just one sentence.
I still quite like Zuo Mingxing's image; at least I'm a decent person.
Unlike mine…
He said this, but didn't finish his last sentence.
After finishing their meal, the two walked out of the Japanese restaurant.
The wind was strong outside, and the night in Beijing was as cold as an icebox.
Lu Han turned up the collar of his coat, and Gao Huan put on the hoodie.
Lu Han took two steps toward his car, then stopped and turned back.
"That song."
"Um."
"No rush."
Gao Huan looked at him and said, "OK."
Lu Han got into the car, rolled down the window, looked at Gao Huan, and said, "See you later, Gao Huan."
Then the car window rolled up, the car drove out of the parking lot, and merged into the traffic on the street.