Chapter 379: This Is What Chu Hong Calls “Putting On a Small Performance”?!
On New Year’s Eve in Star City, the snow fell thicker than in previous years.
The old residential building was completely blanketed by the heavy snow, red lanterns swaying in the wind.
Chu Hong brought the final dish of aspic to the table.
The meat aspic quivered, a few bright green peas solidified within.
She wiped her hands on her apron, turned, and walked toward the cupboard, unhurriedly taking out three sets of bowls and chopsticks.
She carefully adjusted the angle of the chopsticks, ensuring they rested perfectly straight on the rims of the bowls.
“Old Jiang, it’s New Year.”
Chu Hong spoke softly toward the empty chair.
This habit she had kept for over a decade, as if that person had never left.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps sounded outside the door, followed immediately by a loud “thump, thump, thump” of pounding.
“Sister Chu! Big Sister Chu! Open the door!”
Chu Hong went over and opened it.
The oily aroma of fried goods rushed toward her face.
Auntie Wang from next door, holding an enamel plate, hadn’t even fully squeezed her body inside before her voice arrived first.
“Freshly fried vegetarian radish balls, just out of the pot! Brought you some to try!”
Auntie Wang set the plate on the shoe cabinet, acting like she was no stranger, craning her neck to peek inside the room.
Her gaze swept around the living room, finally settling on that empty dining table.
“Oh, haven’t eaten yet?”
Her eyes paused on the three sets of bowls and chopsticks on the table for a moment, then shifted the topic as if nothing was amiss.
“Xiao Ci didn’t come back?”
Chu Hong closed the door and took the steaming plate.
“He’s in the capital, busy with work, can’t come back.”
“Hey, young people these days, they’re all like that.”
Auntie Wang plopped down on the sofa, grabbed a handful of sunflower seeds, and cracked them noisily.
“My boy is the same, says he’s working overtime at the unit, but I think he just doesn’t want to come back and listen to my nagging.”
She leaned forward, lowering her voice.
“Sister Chu, tell me honestly, what exactly does Xiao Ci do over there?”
“I heard Old Zhang downstairs say he saw him on TV? Is he a backup dancer for some big star?”
In this old neighborhood, understanding of the “entertainment circle” was still stuck twenty years ago.
In Auntie Wang’s mind, a star had to be a familiar face from the Xinwen Lianbo news broadcast, or at the very least, the one holding the scallions in a Spring Festival Gala sketch.
Everyone else, at best, was called a “cannon fodder extra.”
Chu Hong poured the meatballs into her own plate, then grabbed a large handful of White Rabbit milk candies and stuffed them into Auntie Wang’s hand.
“He’s not a backup dancer.”
Her tone was flat, offering no further explanation.
“Ah, don’t hide it.”
Auntie Wang thought she felt her son wasn’t doing well and was embarrassed to say.
“Being a backup dancer is pretty good too! Getting a face on CCTV, that’s something to bring honor to the ancestors!”
“Later, I’ll tell my old sisters, have them keep their eyes peeled and look carefully, maybe they’ll spot Xiao Ci behind some singer.”
The more she spoke, the more convinced she became that her guess was right, her tone taking on a comforting note.
“Don’t feel embarrassed either, young people, going to the big city to make their way, just being able to earn a living is hard enough.”
“Look at my niece, says she’s a model, but turns out she just takes photos of socks for people online.”
Chu Hong smiled slightly and didn’t respond.
She turned and walked to the TV cabinet, picking up the remote.
“Let’s watch the Spring Festival Gala, it’s about to start.”
The TV screen lit up.
Joyful opening music filled this slightly cold and quiet room.
On the dazzling stage, dozens of dance performers in festive red clothes were spinning.
Auntie Wang immediately perked up, leaning her body toward the TV, wishing she could crawl into the screen.
“Hey! That one! The third from the left! His figure looks a bit like Xiao Ci!”
“No, no, that one’s too fat.”
“Is it the one holding the lantern? Oh dear, the camera cuts are too fast, can’t see the face clearly at all.”
While searching, Auntie Wang grabbed her phone, eagerly shouting in the “Happy Home, One Big Family” WeChat group.
“Everyone turn your TVs on! Sister Chu’s Xiao Ci is going to be on the Spring Festival Gala today! Everyone help look, see if he’s dancing in the back row or holding a sign in the front!”
The phone dinged incessantly.
The neighbors in the group exploded.
[302 Old Man Liu: Really? Our compound can produce someone on the Spring Festival Gala?]
[501 Sister-in-law Li: @Chu Hong Sister Chu, give us a definite heads-up, what time roughly? Then we can pay more attention, so we don’t miss it.]
Chu Hong glanced at the constantly jumping group messages and didn’t reply.
She picked up her phone and tapped on the pinned conversation at the top.
It was a voice message Jiang Ci sent at 6 o’clock.
She held the phone close to her ear, as if this could bring her closer to her son.
The background noise was chaotic—someone shouting into a microphone, the sound of heavy objects being dragged—
but her son’s voice was steady, carrying a calmness that felt reassuring.
“Mom, I’ve eaten the dumplings, meat filling, pretty tasty. Don’t worry about me, I have a place to eat.”
“Tonight at eight, watch that program. I have something I want to say to you.”
Chu Hong replayed this voice message, only a dozen seconds long, three times.
Finally, she put away her phone.
She walked to the five-drawer cabinet in the corner of the living room.
On the cabinet sat a black photo frame, usually covered with a red cloth to keep off dust.
Chu Hong lifted the red cloth.
The man in the black-and-white photo wore a police uniform, his cap badge gleaming white under camera flashes, a simple, honest smile on his face.
Chu Hong took a clean handkerchief from her pocket and gently wiped the glass.
“Old Jiang.”
She said softly, “Our son has grown up.”
“I used to always fear he’d walk your old path, fear he’d suffer, fear he wouldn’t come back. Now I see, this kid has more of a mind of his own than you did.”
She cupped the photo frame with both hands, carefully turning it to a different angle.
Letting the man in the photo face the large TV in the center of the living room.
“Watch closely.”
“This is our son, appearing on the Spring Festival Gala for the very first time.”
The clock hand pointed to 7:55.
Auntie Wang’s eyes were sore from searching, but she hadn’t found a trace of Jiang Ci among those backup dancers.
She threw the sunflower seed shells into the trash bin somewhat dejectedly, starting to mutter.
“Sister Chu, did you remember the wrong day? It’s been almost an hour, haven’t even seen a back view.”
“These directors nowadays too, the cameras just keep pushing into the big stars’ faces, not giving the people in the back any chance.”
She picked up her phone, ready to send a message in the group telling everyone to disperse, stop looking.
Right at that moment.
The voice of the host on TV, who had been excited and somewhat noisy, suddenly lowered.
That standard, carefully enunciated broadcasting tone now actually sounded a bit more solemn.
“At this moment of family reunion for ten thousand households, there are always some people who are on their way home, or… can never return.”
Auntie Wang’s seed-cracking movements halted.
She subconsciously raised her head.
On the TV screen, all those flashy backdrops and dazzling lighting effects went dark at this moment.
The originally noisy stage fell into complete darkness.
“Next, please enjoy.”
The host’s voice echoed in the empty studio.
“The situational one-man show—‘Return’.”
“Performed by: Jiang Ci.”
Clatter.
Auntie Wang’s mouth hung open, the handful of sunflower seeds she had just grabbed all fell to the floor with a rustle.
Her eyeballs almost popped out of their sockets, staring fixedly at that line of text on the screen.
[Performed by: Jiang Ci]
On that huge screen, there was only this one name, solitary, impossible to ignore.
“One… one-man show?!”
Auntie Wang’s voice trembled.
“Just him alone?!”
This is a small program?!
Chu Hong paid no attention to the neighbor beside her who had already turned to stone.
She sat quietly on the sofa, hands folded on her knees, back straight and upright.
On the TV screen, a beam of white spotlight shone straight down from the dome.
In the center of the light circle.
A man wearing an old sweater and a pilling red scarf slowly raised his head.
That was her son.
And also the epitome of countless wanderers.
Chu Hong looked at that face, her eyes suddenly feeling a bit hot, but she held back.
She turned her head slightly, glancing at the smiling man in the photo frame beside her.
“Old Jiang.”
“It’s starting.”