Chapter Twelve: The "Tang Dynasty" Bar

"No need, it won’t take much time, and it actually saves quite a bit," Lin Qihua replied with a smile. "Mainly, I just want to stay on your good side, Dongzi, so you’ll put your heart into finding me a job."

Han Dong rolled his eyes and helped him set the table, sighing, "Qihua, were you a woman in your past life? You’re so good at housework—don’t be surprised if you attract plenty of women just because of that."

Lin Qihua chuckled nonchalantly. "My parents were hardly ever home when I was growing up, so I picked up these things on my own."

"This is delicious, really delicious. It’s been ages since I’ve had such good homemade food," Han Dong exclaimed, popping a bite into his mouth. "Don’t worry, I’ll do everything I can to help you find the job that suits you best."

"Thanks, Dongzi," Lin Qihua said, smiling as he picked up his bowl and chopsticks and began to eat.

"Cut the act," Han Dong shot back, rapping Qihua’s head lightly with his chopsticks. "Just settle in for now. Cooking is great if you have the time, but what’s crucial is figuring out how to improve yourself. That’s the skill you need to survive in this city. All the instruments in the studio are yours to use. My band won’t bother you. I know you’re really good, but you need to practice daily. This isn’t like working with a professional agency—you need to know a bit of everything if you want to make it. You write songs too, right? Spend more time on that. If you can’t write something great, try arranging or adapting songs, and make them more tailored to live performances. In live shows, you have to grab the audience’s attention in an instant, so aim for lots of variation and keep the rhythm tight. Slow, sentimental ballads don’t have much of a market here."

"I understand," Lin Qihua nodded. Han Dong had been in the scene ever since he’d been fired from his company. He knew the business inside out, and with his solid foundation from the training camp, he’d carved out a decent niche for himself—forming a band, picking up gigs, not only supporting himself but also hoping for that one big break. That was the dream of every underground band. Where there is light, there is shadow; for every shining star on stage, there are countless bands below, quietly enduring, arranging and adapting music, working behind the scenes. There’s no right or wrong, just the way of the world. Lin Qihua had met Han Dong a few times before, so he was familiar with the scene.

After dinner, Lin Qihua took charge of washing the dishes—something Han Dong, a confirmed bachelor, would never touch—while Han Dong retreated to his room to start contacting people he knew. Although he had a wide network, not many were truly well-informed or willing to help. Judging by his shifting expressions, it was clear this wasn’t going to be easy.

When Lin Qihua finished cleaning the kitchen and settled into the living room with a cup of tea, Han Dong finally emerged from his room. He slumped onto the sofa, drained his tea in one gulp, and gasped, "People brag so much, but when you really need them, they’re as useless as sick chickens."

"Don’t worry, Dongzi, we can take it slow," Lin Qihua reassured him.

"You think I came up empty? You must be underestimating me," Han Dong replied smugly. "Hurry and get your things together—we’re heading out soon. I found a place that’s perfect for you."

"Then why were you complaining?" Lin Qihua was baffled.

"I’m just annoyed at those people who act all high and mighty but vanish when there’s real trouble. I had to swallow my pride and ask that woman for help," Han Dong grumbled, still looking put out. "But I went all in today, and finally got a satisfactory answer."

"Alright," Lin Qihua replied, though he was curious about who this "woman" was to Han Dong. He didn’t dare ask, though, and just grabbed his guitar and followed Han Dong out the door. He had two guitars: one electric, which he used for practice, composing, and most performances; and an acoustic that his father had bought him in middle school, which he still played comfortably, though it had its limitations. The acoustic was especially handy since it could be played anywhere.

"The job I found for you is as the lead singer in a house band at a bar," Han Dong explained as they walked—the place wasn’t far from where they lived. "This bar is one of the biggest in the area. It’s packed every night, and the clientele is much better than most places—no shady characters, just quality guests. The stage and equipment are all top-notch, so it should suit you well. The band’s lead singer was injured recently and will be out for a while, so they’re urgently looking for a temporary replacement until he’s back. Most singers wouldn’t care for a short-term gig like this, but for you, it’s ideal. Plus, if you perform well, you might not even have to leave when the original singer returns. Big bars usually have three or four bands rotating, depending on the night. It all comes down to your abilities."

"I understand. I’ll do my best," Lin Qihua nodded.

What Han Dong didn’t mention was that the owner of this bar was no ordinary person. In fact, anyone who could open a bar here wasn’t ordinary, but this owner was especially formidable. Rumor had it that several people who’d tried to muscle in on the bar had come away with nothing but trouble, and now no one dared to mess with the place. Fortunately, the bar’s style was unique, so there was no real competition, and it held a special position in the area.

For Lin Qihua, a bar with such backing meant fewer troubles. More importantly, if he performed well and caught the boss’s attention, he might be introduced to entertainment agencies, and that could save him a lot of detours in the coming year. That was Han Dong’s real reason for swallowing his pride and making promises.

After about ten minutes, they arrived at their destination. The bar’s design was strikingly unique, standing out among its neighbors. To Lin Qihua’s surprise, two stone lions stood at the entrance. Above them, the name "Tang Dynasty Bar" was written in bold, flowing calligraphy—imposing and elegant.

The doors were already open, and inside, staff bustled about. A man who looked like a manager noticed them and came over politely. "Can I help you? We’re not open yet."

"We’re here to see Manager Tan, about the lead singer position," Han Dong replied courteously.

"Oh?" The manager was briefly surprised, glancing at both Han Dong and Lin Qihua. Saying nothing more, he spoke into his walkie-talkie, then led them to a corner table. "Please wait here, Manager Tan will be with you shortly."

"Thank you, we’ll wait," Han Dong said with a smile.

The manager nodded and returned to his work, while Han Dong took the opportunity to introduce the bar’s layout to Lin Qihua.

"This bar covers 3,000 square meters, with two floors arranged in a ring," Han Dong explained, gesturing around.

Lin Qihua looked around as well. The two levels weren’t simply parallel; there was a difference in height, and tables and chairs were scattered artfully throughout. Each table had a semi-circular wooden screen, offering privacy without blocking the view. The center was surrounded by tables, with a small stage set against the left wall. "Small" was only in comparison to a full concert stage—it was still substantial. There was a complete set of band instruments and thoughtfully arranged stage lights, giving it a professional feel.

"This is the bar’s stage. Every night, the bands rotate here—usually three bands, each with their own style. Of course, there are breaks, and during those, you can rest or practice in the adjacent room. It’s both the lounge and the rehearsal space," Han Dong continued.

"Got it." Lin Qihua had never been to a bar before; the management at his old company was strict—no drinking, no bars, nothing of the sort. Only top-tier stars were given a bit of freedom. Even then, celebrities getting drunk or causing a scene at bars was a staple of entertainment gossip—a "scandal" in the industry.

Soon, a young woman in a business suit strode over: neat short hair, an impressive figure—impossible to ignore.

"Sister Mei," Han Dong, usually so nonchalant, stood up respectfully at her arrival.

"Dongzi?" She recognized him. "Lian already called me. You’re here for the audition?"

"Not me," Han Dong replied with a smile, gesturing to Lin Qihua. "This is my friend, Lin Qihua."

"I thought so. Someone with your reputation wouldn’t settle for our bar. If it were you, there’d be nothing more to discuss—you’d have the job on the spot. Can’t let go of your own band, can you?" Sister Mei quipped, half smiling.

"Nothing like that—just used to drifting around, picking up gigs. Qihua, this is Sister Mei, the general manager here," Han Dong said, pulling Lin Qihua forward.

"Hello, Sister Mei." Though he wasn’t sure why Han Dong was so tense, Lin Qihua greeted her politely.

"You’re surprisingly young," Sister Mei looked him over. "Good looks, good build—you’d fit right in at an entertainment company. So why come here, and just for a temporary job?"

"Young people need experience," Han Dong offered with a forced smile.

"Don’t give me that, Dongzi. I know you well enough—you can’t lie to me. Tell me the truth," she chided.

"I’ll explain," Lin Qihua said, stopping Han Dong. He looked up at Sister Mei. "I was just kicked out of ‘Huayi.’ I can’t sign with any company for a year, but I don’t want to waste that time. So I asked Dongzi to help me find somewhere I could keep singing, that’s all."

"I see," Sister Mei replied, folding her arms, which only emphasized her impressive figure. "I think I may have heard about you."