Chapter Eighty-Eight: Winter Has Come, and the Fan Club Has Lost One Member!

After thanking everyone on the crew one by one for their hard work, Lee Shixin returned to the makeup room.

He changed out of the filthy beggar’s clothes and casually handed them back to Big Guy.

“Old man, why are you giving this back to me? I’m not planning to go back to picking through trash. It looks awful. Just throw it away,” Big Guy said, wrinkling his nose at the outfit he had worn a month ago.

Seeing the boy’s look of disgust, Lee Shixin could not help laughing.

Good. So he knew how to feel ashamed now.

That was good.

“Then throw it away. Stay here in Rongdian and keep working hard. Learn more on your own when you have time. I’m only an old man, and I don’t have much ability. I can only help you this far.”

Big Guy blinked, then broke into a grin. “It’s pretty good now, old man. I’ll do my best from here on out. I’m not going back to the dump. And don’t keep worrying about me. Think about yourself instead. Save enough money and get that illness of yours treated, okay?”

Looking at Big Guy, who was no longer the same as before, Lee Shixin chuckled and gave the fellow’s shoulder a pat.

“Mr. Li!”

Lee Shixin had only just put on his down jacket when he heard a shout from behind him.

Turning around, he saw An Xiaoxiao.

She had no schedule that morning, and only had a scene in the afternoon where she was bullied by classmates at school. So it was already noon before she came over from the hotel.

Seeing the misty look in her eyes, Lee Shixin smiled. “What’s the matter, girl?”

“Waaah!”

With a sob, An Xiaoxiao launched herself into his arms like a cannonball and clung tightly to his waist. “They said you wrapped up filming today!”

He patted the little head in his arms and smiled. “That’s right. You’ll have to act your scenes well from here on out.”

As soon as she heard that, tears flooded down An Xiaoxiao’s face.

The teacher, I can’t bear to see you go.

Huh?

Lee Shixin looked at An Xiaoxiao, who was crying like a fountain, and frowned. “Xiaoxiao, there is no banquet that does not come to an end. Besides... my scenes may be finished, but as the prop supervisor I still have to come back to the crew. And besides...”

He pinched An Xiaoxiao’s cheek hard and dragged her out of his arms.

“You’ve been freeloading at our place for more than a week, eating, drinking, and sleeping in Sister Ying’s bed every day. In the past week I’ve seen you seven mornings out of seven when I get up. What the hell are you crying for?”

The air suddenly went still.

An Xiaoxiao short-circuited for a moment, then scratched the back of her head.

“It really is like that.”

Lee Shixin knew that this time she was not simply slow to react.

After a month together, she had played master and disciple with him in the drama, and on set she had truly come to think of him as her teacher. She had gotten too deeply into the role.

With a helpless pat to An Xiaoxiao’s bun, he shooed her away. “All right, there’s no night shoot tonight. Go home early and eat. I’m free now, so I’ll make you something good to eat tonight.”

“Mhm, mhm!”

An Xiaoxiao nodded obediently. Her head was so stuffed with sorrow that it had all been replaced by sweet-and-sour fish, braised pork ribs, five-spice beef, and stir-fried mixed vegetables. She dashed off to report to Jiao Chendong.

“Stir-fry! No... Good afternoon, Director Jiao!”

Hearing An Xiaoxiao call out a dish name from afar, Lee Shixin could only smile helplessly.

After washing the heavy makeup off his face with remover and saying goodbye to everyone on the crew one by one, he left the set.

......

After chatting for a while with a group of old fans outside the set, and harvesting a modest wave of applause points, Lee Shixin suggested that everyone go eat together to celebrate wrapping up.

But the elders would not agree. His face was still smeared with oily makeup, and his body still carried the sour smell left behind by the costume, so they would not let him insist.

“Brother Shixin, go home, all right? You’re not young anymore! And your body’s still sick. You’ve been killing yourself these days. Old Zhou over here was worried sick just watching, afraid you’d collapse. Go home, wash up properly, and get some rest. When the weather gets a little warmer someday, we’ll get together then.”

“Exactly, Brother Shixin. Hurry back and take a break. Get your health back first. There’s still a long winter ahead!”

Everyone knew how hard he had been working lately. After a flurry of persuasion, they bundled Lee Shixin into a taxi and then went their separate ways.

Lee Shixin did not stubbornly insist.

After these busy days, he had finished his scenes, and all the fatigue in his body had come crashing down at once. A body in its sixties, after chewing through several peak bubblegums, had finally reached its limit.

It was only because he had been rejuvenated three times. If he had worked this hard back when he had just fled the hospital, he could guarantee that he would have dropped dead on set by now.

For the next few days, Lee Shixin stayed cooped up at home and did not even step out the door.

Every day, aside from making two meals for the Zhang siblings and An Xiaoxiao, he rested like an old turtle hibernating through winter.

Before, while he had been running wild, he had not felt much. But once he had nothing to do, he began to feel oddly restless. All day long he was alone at home; he did not feel like playing on the computer, and even the television was boring to watch.

During that time, he called Wang Hai twice to ask about the new production. The reply was that the project was only in its startup phase, and from casting to assembling the crew to actually beginning filming, it would take at least until after Windborne Flying was released.

Upon hearing that there would be no acting work in the short term, Lee Shixin hurriedly poured all of the more than forty thousand applause points left in the system into the life-span option, leaving himself a balance of a full one hundred and twenty days.

But once he had life again, he suddenly seemed to lose his soul and no longer knew what to do with himself.

In a daze, the loneliness of an isolated old man came surging over him like a tide.

This state lasted until the sixth day after wrapping.

A cold front swept through, followed by a heavy snowfall that blanketed Rongdian.

After the snow, the gloom over the city dispersed, and the sky turned a clear, deep blue. Once the sun came out, the temperature rose slightly.

Early that morning, after seeing off the Zhang siblings and An Xiaoxiao, Lee Shixin drew back the curtains in the living room and looked outside. His spirits lifted at once.

What glorious weather!

He stretched his body, listening to the creaks and groans of his old bones, and let out a long breath.

Fully restored!

It was time to live it up again!

As an old man, what could not be missing?

Wealth?

Status?

Fame?

The applause of the fans?

Exactly. None of them could be missing!

Hearing the morning weather forecast on the television say that temperatures were on the rise, Lee Shixin stroked his stubble.

Since the temperature had straightened itself out, this old man had to get fired up too!

Come out, my old fans!

At once, Lee Shixin took out his old mobile phone, opened the fan group chat that had been flooded with karaoke links, winter health tips, and inspirational self-help drivel, and sent a voice message.

“Everyone, do you have time today? Yesterday’s payment has already come in. My treat. Shall our band of old fellows have some fun?”

One second passed.

Ten seconds passed.

Five minutes passed...

Outside the window, crows flitted playfully to and fro. The group chat grew cold.

Damn it.

As perhaps the first celebrity in the country to speak up in a fan group only to be met with a dead silence, Lee Shixin took a devastating blow.

Just as he was about to tag everyone or send a red envelope to recover a shred of his idol dignity, Wu Ming sent a six-second voice message.

“Brother Shixin, I’m afraid not today. We’re tied up here and can’t get away.”

While Lee Shixin was still confused, another ten-second voice message from Wu Ming popped up on the screen.

“Sister Zhou had a heart attack a little after four yesterday afternoon. She’s gone. We’re... all at the funeral home now, seeing Sister Zhou off on her final journey.”

Hearing that, Lee Shixin froze.

Looking out at the bright sunlight over the snow-covered winter city, then back at the fan group where Zhou Chuanfang’s profile picture had turned permanently gray, his heart gave a jolt.

Along with the harsh winter had come the thing he feared most: his old fans were beginning to thin out because of the unbearable cold.

Thinking again of Aunt Zhou, who had once been pulled into the fan club by Wu Ming’s pyramid-scheme-style sales pitch, then spent her days knitting sweaters outside the set and even gave him a red scarf, Lee Shixin pressed his lips together.

“Which funeral home?”