Chapter Twenty: To Live with Dignity, One Must Stand Tall!

When Li Shixin received the system notification, he merely paused for a moment in the act of picking chives, glanced at the points displayed in the system, and then resumed his work. He had already expected that his recent actions would earn him a wave of applause points. Only the sheer number of applause points came as a surprise to him. Clearly, some unexpected twist had occurred, but it was obviously a twist that worked in his favor. Li Shixin wasn’t interested in thinking it through; instead, he watched as Zhang Ying deftly added the two-inch cubes of beef into the pot at the stove, then picked up a basin of water to add to the pot. He smiled and gently stopped her.

“Girl, once you’ve blanched the beef, you can’t add cold water to it. Otherwise, no matter how long you stew it, it’ll turn out tough and chewy. Whether you’re stewing beef or making beef soup, always remember: when you add water to the pot, it has to be hot.”

“Oh—”

Her basin of water intercepted, Zhang Ying pushed up the sleeves of her black turtleneck and laughed. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard that. No wonder my brother always says my beef stew isn’t tasty!”

Li Shixin slowly picked up the electric kettle, poured hot water into the pot, and, after it boiled, added the seasonings in a precise order before closing the lid. Zhang Ying wiped the sweat from her nose and smiled. “You’re an old hand at this! With that technique, you must have been cooking for decades. Before you came to Rongdian, were you a chef?”

Cracking four eggs into a large soup bowl, Li Shixin picked up his chopsticks and beat them together, shaking his head.

“My wife passed away in ’74. Since then, I’ve been the one cooking for my two children. I can’t claim to know all the fancy dishes from big restaurants, but when it comes to home cooking, I really have been at it for decades. Here, pass me the chives. You have to put the chives in before the eggs when you’re making chive and egg stir-fry, that way the flavor comes through and the eggs won’t taste gamey.”

Watching Li Shixin meticulously prepare an ordinary home-cooked dish—the chive and egg stir-fry she’d often made but never quite mastered—Zhang Ying’s wariness faded away as the kitchen filled with the yellow and green of perfectly cooked eggs and chives, the scent of pepper gently wafting through the air.

How could someone like this, a father like this, possibly be a bad person?

“Your son really is something else,” Zhang Ying said, dabbing at the tears that had formed in her eyes.

Scooping the finished chive stir-fry from the pan, Li Shixin waved his hand with a laugh. “No point talking about that rascal. By the way, girl, your brother never told me—what do you do for a living?”

With her spirits buoyed by Li Shixin’s easygoing manner, Zhang Ying tucked her hair behind her ear and grinned. “Someone my age in Rongdian? Everyone gets by in the film and TV industry one way or another.”

“After high school, I didn’t get into a good college, so I came to Rongdian to join my brother. But unlike him—he loves working on sets—I’ve always liked making things with my hands. At first, I worked props for other people. Now I’ve opened my own studio. I can’t compete with the big companies for major jobs, but I take on small props and custom costumes for productions here and there.”

Li Shixin nodded. He’d sensed that lively spark in Zhang Ying, and this job suited her.

“Your brother’s an interesting character.” Pleased with her candor, Li Shixin chuckled, then recounted his own story: how he’d faked an injury to get onto a film crew and ended up coming back with them, omitting only the part about Zhang Shuo filming videos for money.

As he finished, he glanced at Zhang Shuo, who was outside the door hounding the neighbor for rent, and lowered his voice to Zhang Ying. “Don’t tell your brother I told you—he doesn’t want me to mention it—but it’s true about my son and the cerebral thrombosis. I even brought the medical records.”

Zhang Ying burst out laughing at this bizarre twist of fate, glancing at Zhang Shuo, who was venting his frustration on the tenant outside. She doubled over with laughter, green onion in hand. At last, she patted Li Shixin on the shoulder. “You really are something—there’s nothing you won’t try! I knew my brother wasn’t being so generous out of the goodness of his heart. Now I get it!”

When her laughter subsided, she turned her back to the door and said, “But it’s good you came.”

“My brother was just like you at first, coming to Rongdian to chase his dreams. Our father passed away early, and our mother couldn’t keep him in line. He came here at nineteen. He acted for a few years without any luck and wouldn’t come home. A director once told him he didn’t have what it takes, no future in it. So he’d rather work as an extra coordinator than give up being around the set, always watching others act.

A few years ago he said he’d work for two years, earn enough to live on, then go back to acting. Back then, he put his all into everything, always with a fire in his eyes.

But lately, I don’t see that fire anymore. All he thinks about is money, like he’s just run out of steam.

You’re older and have seen more of life. You’ve had your share of hardships but still keep your spirit. When I talk to him about this, he just gets angry. If you have time, please guide him. He’s only thirty—he can’t give up on life already, can he?”

By now, Li Shixin had finished tossing the last cold dish. Hearing Zhang Ying’s request, he laughed kindly.

“You understand things better than your brother. All right, since he’s my godson, I’ll take it upon myself to look after him from now on!”

“And what exactly are you taking over now?” At that moment, Zhang Shuo barged back in, having finished his show of authority with the tenant. Hearing the tail end of Li Shixin’s words, he widened his eyes and protested.

Li Shixin lifted the cold dish in his hand. “Talking about the cold dish! I just finished mixing it, but someone splashed a ladle of water in and now it’s tasteless. So, it’s all mine.”

Zhang Shuo entered the kitchen, grabbed a pair of chopsticks, and tried a mouthful from the salad bowl. He chewed, cocked his head, and declared, “Tastes fine to me! Come on, the food’s ready, let’s eat. I still need to tidy up room 502 this afternoon.”

As Zhang Shuo swaggered to the table, Li Shixin and Zhang Ying exchanged a smile.

After the meal, Zhang Shuo went upstairs, patting his belly. Room 502 hadn’t been occupied in over half a year and needed a thorough cleaning. Zhang Ying, after swiftly clearing the kitchen, also bade Li Shixin farewell and headed to her studio.

The house was quiet, with only Li Shixin left. He returned to his room, closed the door, and opened the system interface.

Including the points he’d previously accumulated, his applause value now totaled 130,000—and it was still climbing by dozens every second. Seeing such a bountiful harvest, Li Shixin nodded in satisfaction.

This move of mine… rock solid!

Who could say otherwise?

Faced with such a huge amount of applause value, Li Shixin stroked his grizzled chin.

He still had a month of life left, enough to keep going for a while.

A lottery draw… But after seeing the odds of winning and the sorts of prizes—canes or pills you had to stick where the sun doesn’t shine—Li Shixin grimaced.

In a matter of moments, he made up his mind.

One hundred thirty thousand points, all straight into the age-reduction option.

Reduce age by one hundred and thirty days—go for broke!

That little lass Zhang Ying was right: a person should have fire in their eyes and a pillar in their pants.

To drag out a life without quality is no different from being dead.

To be a man, you have to stand tall!