Chapter 4 The Unique Supreme (Part 1)

In Cen Ye's memory, his family almost always frowned upon seeing his guitar. It wasn't just his stern and silent father but also his elder brother, who had always treated him warmly, and even his gentle and fragile mother. His mother would secretly call him and plead in a soft voice, "Xiaoye, stop doing that, stop being stubborn, come back to Shenyang early and find a stable job, alright?"

Cen Ye could rage against his father, but he often felt all his strength sap away when dealing with his mother, a pain of being misunderstood. He could only respond irritably, sometimes even losing his temper before hanging up the phone.

His mother asked for his card number, wanting to give him a little subsidy for his meager living expenses, but he refused.

Every night, the 23-year-old Cen Ye lay in the top bunk in the small room he shared with Zhao Tan, beside a guitar that wasn't very good but had cost all his savings. His hands behind his head, he stared into the pitch-black distance, feeling as if there was a hole in his heart that could never be filled.

Fortunately, after forming the Chaomu Band, they gained some fame in Changsha, although performance opportunities were still too few, and music festivals and tours were still out of reach. But Cen Ye believed, his heart cold yet filled with confidence, that it was only a matter of time. The year after next, or even next year, they would surely be appreciated by the public, even by professional producers, and they would certainly make something of themselves.

At this thought, Cen Ye's chest warmed, and he fumblingly took out a cigarette from his pocket, bit one, and was about to light it when Zhao Tan, lying on the bottom bunk, spoke out, "Damn it! Don't smoke in bed, if you cause a fire we can't afford to pay for it."

Cen Ye replied, "I haven't even lit it yet!" Sliding down in an instant, he sat on Zhao Tan's bed, smoking and tapping his fingers rhythmically on his knee.

Zhao Tan watched his expression and asked, "Did you come up with a new melody?"

Cen Ye gave a cool smile, his fingers still trembling as if they couldn't stop. Zhao Tan sat up, putting a hand on his shoulder, "What inspired your muse today?"

Cen Ye's fingers suddenly stilled.

Not until Zhao Tan inquired did he realize that a melody had been echoing in his mind, preventing his heart from ever truly calming down, keeping him restless throughout the night.

A vision flashed past, a girl sitting by the piano, her face serene, her gaze entranced.

"Every day I can reach the climax of inspiration automatically," Cen Ye said.

Zhao Tan laughed, "Get lost."

After finishing a cigarette, Cen Ye decisively got up, donned the thick military coat they had bought cheaply from the market—cool and also warm—and moved to the only small table in the room. Turning on the desk lamp, he pulled out some sheets of paper and a pen, and began to write melodies.

Zhao Tan played with his phone for a while, and seeing it was half past two, he said, "Hey, go to sleep early, we have a performance at Heika Bar tomorrow night."

Cen Ye, without turning his head, replied, "Mhm." Zhao Tan knew he couldn't persuade him and quickly fell into a deep snore. The only things left awake in the low apartment were a narrow window and a small lamp, shining all night long in the enveloping winter chill.

When Zhao Tan woke up well past dawn, he was startled to see that lean figure still hunched over the table. "Holy shit!" He jumped up and grabbed Cen Ye by the shoulder, "Do you not care about your health? Another all-nighter?"

Cen Ye finally leaned back slowly, the usual dark circles under his profound eyes making his pale face appear even paler. His slender fingers played with a pencil as he smiled faintly and said, "I'm off to sleep now—I've finished writing." He yawned deeply, seemingly transforming into a lifeless dog, and slowly climbed into bed. The moment he hit the mattress, even and prolonged breathing could be heard almost instantly.

Zhao Tan had no choice but to pick up a few sheets of paper from the desk and softly sing a few lines of melody, a smile gradually appearing in his eyes.

However, Cen Ye couldn't sleep for long today; there was work to be done, and he had to go to the famous Heika Bar for a rehearsal well in advance. By the time all the work was done and the bar had started its evening business, it wasn't yet time for their performance. Amidst the lively music, Cen Ye actually dozed off on a sofa in the corner of the bar. Knowing he was exhausted, his bandmates didn't call him, thinking to let him sleep a little longer before their performance began.

Zhang Hai, the keyboardist, was the oldest among them, twenty-eight or twenty-nine, and an old hand in the business, though he hadn't made much of a name for himself. A local from Xiangcheng, with average skills but a wide network, the opportunity to perform at Heika Bar had been mainly orchestrated by him. Zhang Hai arrived early, which was rare for him; he wore a bright, shiny leather jacket, a cheap cigar clenched in his mouth, rough skin, gaunt yet spirited. Seeing Cen Ye sprawled on the sofa, he frowned and cursed, "We're about to perform, and this kid is sleeping?"

Huizi, not their dedicated drummer and also playing for another band, would always arrive on time for each practice and performance, showing his commitment. Being in a new band without any background, finding the right members was never easy. Leaning next to Zhang Hai, Huizi's bad smile surfaced, "This kid didn't play too hard last night, did he?"

Zhao Tan replied, "Don't talk nonsense. He had inspiration last night and wrote a piece all night. It's pretty good. We'll rehearse it carefully later."

Everyone then sighed, "This kid..." It seemed they were accustomed to it.

Zhang Tianyao took his time in the restroom today, only coming out after changing his clothes. As he approached, everyone noticed something different about him. His hair had been washed and blow-dried, the usual frizz gone, looking smooth and sleek. His face was also scrubbed clean, looking even whiter than usual, as if he had applied some powder. He also wore a branded white shirt he usually couldn't bear to wear, with black trousers that hugged his butt tightly.

"Oh my goodness!" Zhang Hai exclaimed, "Yaozi, are you in heat today?"

Huizi said, "He's in heat every day."

Zhang Tianyao proudly stroked his hair and sat down beside them, saying, "Quit the bullshit. I'm just taking today's performance seriously."

Zhao Tan laughed, "Looking sharp."

Zhang Tianyao pointed at the still slumbering Cen Ye, "Am I better looking than him?"

Zhao Tan nodded, "He's nothing."

The group burst into laughter.

Just then, Huizi elbowed Zhang Tianyao and said with a "Hey!" while nodding towards the door.

So Zhang Tianyao, Zhao Tan, and Zhang Hai all followed his gaze quietly.

Cen Ye had been sleeping in a daze, dreaming at times that he was back in Dongbei, walking through thick snow, looking at the dry and twisted branches that felt both familiar and strange, sweet yet painful. At other times, he heard the chatter of those guys next to his ear, especially Zhang Tianyao, whose voice was frighteningly loud. Cen Ye also heard him boasting about how handsome he was and snickered in his heart: Handsome? I could pull out a single hair that's tougher than him.