Late Night Bookstore - Chapter 24

After leaving the villa area, Zhou Ze didn’t hurry to hail a taxi but decided to take a walk on the night road by himself.

Wang Ke had said that his problem wasn’t too serious and that he only needed to sever the social ties that Xu Le had established. In truth, most of those ties were already cut.

Considering how he had treated Dr. Lin, it seemed unlikely that she would pay him any attention for the time being. As for his in-laws, he hadn’t been back to their house for several days.

The only troublesome matter might still be his bookstore since the money to open it had been provided by his father-in-law’s family.

For now, he decided to let things be. He needed some time to cool down.

Ahead, there was an overpass. Zhou Ze walked up and sat on one of the steps, taking out his phone and flipping through it casually.

By chance, Zhou Ze opened the live streaming app. Xu Le, before his death, had followed many game and beauty streamers, but Zhou Ze wasn’t very interested in any of that. Scrolling down, Zhou Ze saw that the old Taoist streamer he had watched before still hadn’t gone live.

It had been quite a while, and it seemed the old Taoist might have truly quit.

Streaming may look easy—making money from the comfort of home—but it also comes with heavy pressure. Not streaming for even a few days could quickly make a streamer yesterday’s news, let alone going silent for one or two months.

Just then, Zhou Ze noticed that there was an unread message in his account. Opening it, he found it was from the old Taoist, sent two days ago.

“Your humble Taoist has come to Tongcheng, dear. Shall we meet up?”

Attached below was the old Taoist’s phone number.

Zhou Ze frowned slightly. The message was full of affectionate emojis, and upon further inspection of Xu Le’s account profile, it became clear why—the account was registered as a female, with the location set to Tongcheng.

Xu Le had likely dabbled in streaming before as well, but his channel had never gained much popularity.

Zhou Ze finally understood the strange feeling he had: the old Taoist’s message clearly carried the implication of flirting with a fan. He had likely come to Tongcheng and was casting a wide net, hoping to meet some local fans.

Zhou Ze wasn’t interested in the old Taoist, but he was intrigued by the young man who had appeared in the old Taoist’s videos—the one who struggled to drink congee.

However, Zhou Ze still replied to the message, which was just his own phone number.

Standing up and stretching, Zhou Ze was ready to leave. He was somewhat missing his freezer.

But at that moment, his phone rang. The call was from a number in Rongcheng.

Zhou Ze answered.

“Hello, benefactor, where are you?!” The old Taoist’s voice was loud, as if he were shouting directly into the phone’s speaker. There were also sounds of a train in the background.

“Where are you?” Zhou Ze asked.

Was this Taoist that idle? Didn’t he have a lot of fans? Why did he always reply to messages so quickly? Was it possible that female fans were that alluring?

“Wait… What?” The old Taoist was startled, and after a moment of silence, he realized that the fan he had tried to meet was actually a man!

A big… dude!

Heartbroken, disappointed, crestfallen!

But the old Taoist quickly changed his tone, wailing dramatically:

“Brother, I’m starving! Please, spare me a few bottles and some food!”

……………

Zhou Ze took a cab and found the old Taoist under a railway bridge. The old Taoist was dressed in a dirty Taoist robe, his hair disheveled, and there were bruises on his face, making him look like a homeless person. He had been lying on a plastic sheet beneath the bridge.

Nearby, there was a restaurant called “Longtan Homestyle Cuisine.” Zhou Ze ordered two bowls of noodles, a dish of Kung Pao chicken, and some small fried fish for him. The old Taoist devoured the food enthusiastically.

“Brother, you’re a good man!” After finishing one bowl of noodles, the old Taoist finally slowed down and asked the owner to warm up a pot of yellow rice wine. Then, with a sheepish smile, he looked at Zhou Ze, knowing full well that Zhou Ze would have to pay for the meal since he had no money.

“How did you end up like this?” In front of Zhou Ze was a glass of water, and he hadn’t touched the dishes on the table.

“Sigh, don’t ask.” The old Taoist slurped some noodle soup and smacked his lips. “It’s just been a run of bad luck lately. Originally, I was with a film crew in Tongcheng.”

“You switched careers?”

“Sort of. I didn’t feel like streaming anymore,” the old Taoist sighed. “You know, a person needs dreams, right?”

“That’s true,” Zhou Ze nodded.

“My dream is to be able to star in a ‘Mr. Vampire’ film, whether it’s the third, fourth, fifth, or even the sixth, seventh, or eighth.” When talking about his dream, the old Taoist’s demeanor seemed to change slightly.

“And yet you ended up like this in the crew?” Zhou Ze asked, curious.

“Heh, I had a small role in the crew, but fate has a way of messing with people.”

The wine arrived, and the old Taoist poured a cup for Zhou Ze before filling one for himself. He took a small sip and squinted his eyes.

“Ah, delicious. So delicious.”

Zhou Ze picked up his cup of plain water and took another sip.

“The assistant director was no good. He tried to take advantage of a young actress. The poor girl couldn’t have been more than eighteen. She cried and refused. And I just happened to walk by, so I gave that assistant director a good beating.”

The old Taoist patted his chest proudly and said, “Making money is making money, and fame is fame, but no matter what we do, we must not go against our conscience, right? Brother, do you agree with this principle?”

“Mm.” Zhou Ze nodded. “So, you got fired?”

“No, he didn’t dare use that as an excuse.” The old Taoist grinned, baring his teeth. “There were a lot of witnesses when I beat him up. He couldn’t retaliate against me, or his own reputation would be ruined.”

“And then?”

“Then the very next night, that young actress I saved walked straight into the assistant director’s room. She didn’t come out until morning.”

The old Taoist said this with a sigh, “People are pitiful. Life is hard.”

“And after that?”

“After that, the young actress accused me of groping her, of harassing her. The assistant director didn’t step in, but the director fired me from the crew.” The old Taoist kept grinning, though his smile carried a hint of bitterness.

“Let’s drink,” Zhou Ze said.

“Come on, cheers!” The old Taoist raised his glass, noticing Zhou Ze was holding a glass of plain water. He protested, “What, are you looking down on me? Come on, drink some wine. Your brother is down on his luck today, and I’m grateful for your help. One day, when I’ve got money again, I’ll repay you.”

Zhou Ze shook his head. “I’m allergic to alcohol.”

“Alright then, let’s use tea instead of wine!”

The two clinked glasses and the old Taoist downed his wine in one gulp.

All of life’s grievances, frustrations, and inequalities— all washed down with a glass of wine.

“You’re out of money?” Zhou Ze asked. Although the question didn’t need asking.

“Yes,” the old Taoist said, looking expectantly at Zhou Ze, hoping he’d lend him some money. He’d had some funds earlier in the month, but he had given them away as charity, and now that he’d been fired, he was suddenly short on cash.

“Oh.” Zhou Ze nodded.

“……” The old Taoist suddenly felt a sense of familiarity with Zhou Ze’s conversation style.

What the hell? You say “Oh,” But then why ask if I have money?

Zhou Ze stood up, went to settle the bill, and then prepared to leave. Treating the old Taoist to a meal had been more of a way to pass the time for Zhou Ze, who was feeling a bit bored and just wanted someone to talk to.

He could have gone to see Xu Qinglang, but Xu Qinglang had closed early that evening, with the shutters already down, so Zhou Ze couldn’t find him.

Now, Zhou Ze was tired and just wanted to go home and rest.

“Brother, do you own a bookstore?” the old Taoist asked.

“Mm.”

“Bookstores don’t make much money, do they?” The old Taoist spread his hand, making a few pinching gestures as if calculating something.

“Mm.”

“I think it’s actually more profitable to run a funeral goods shop.” Seeing that Zhou Ze wasn’t very interested in his “calculations,” the old Taoist gave up. Clearly, the person in front of him was born under the new regime and didn’t believe in feudal superstitions, so the old Taoist dropped the matter.

“A funeral goods store?” Zhou Ze shook his head. “Not interested.”

After all, he himself was practically a ghost. Why would he open a store for the dead?

“To be honest, I used to run a funeral goods shop in Rongcheng,” the old Taoist said, pulling out a wad of ghost money from his pocket. “Brother, thanks for the meal today. I don’t have anything good to give you, but take this stack of ghost money. Don’t rush to curse me—it can’t be spent, of course, but it carries a bit of virtue from the underworld. Keep it with you, don’t worry about bad luck, and it might bring you some good fortune.”

Zhou Ze didn’t reach for the money. Who in their right mind would carry around a stack of ghost money?

“Brother, don’t dismiss it.” The old Taoist became anxious when Zhou Ze refused, so he opened his Taoist robe and pointed to a scar on his right chest. “Back then, a stack of ghost money saved my life!”

“Alright, alright. I’ll take it,” Zhou Ze sighed, not wanting to see a grown man bare his chest in front of him, and reached out to take the ghost money.

“I remember watching your video, and there was someone in your funeral goods shop. That person found it difficult to drink congee,” Zhou Ze asked.

“Oh, him? He’s an employee I hired. Lazy as hell, just sunbathes all day and doesn’t do any work. I keep yelling at him, telling him it’s no good to be so lazy when he’s still young.”

“Was he suffering from an eating disorder?” Zhou Ze asked.

“Sort of.” The old Taoist seemed a bit down when mentioning him. “What, did you find him handsome?”

“No, I just felt a sense of familiarity.”

“Familiarity, my ass.” The old Taoist laughed like he’d heard a great joke.

Are you close with ghosts? Could it be that you are also a ghost? Hahahahahaha, you’re killing me with laughter!

The two of them walked out of the restaurant together. Zhou Ze handed the old Taoist a cigarette. Next door, a small supermarket was still open, with a fruit stand in front.

“Stay right there, don’t move. I’ll go buy you some oranges,” the old Taoist joked.

“I’ll just take two. You can have the rest,” Zhou Ze replied.

“Huh?” The old Taoist thought Zhou Ze hadn’t understood his joke. Feeling a bit deflated, he figured this bookstore owner must be a bookworm.

Zhou Ze didn’t explain.

The line “I’m going to buy some oranges, you wait here and don’t move” was from Zhu Ziqing’s “The Back¹”, spoken by the father to his son.

However, the line Zhou Ze referred to was from “Rickshaw Boy²”, where the grandfather speaks to his grandson.

Finally, Zhou Ze patted the old Taoist on the shoulder, “I’m off. Take care of yourself.”

Just as the old Taoist was about to say something, he suddenly clutched his crotch, and the smell of burning hair filled the air.

“Damn it! I’m burning alive!”

TL Notes:

1. “The Back” or “Silhouette of the Back” is a famous essay written by Zhu Ziqing, recounting a poignant memory of the author’s father, seen from behind as he hurries away after helping the author board a train. The essay is a reflection on fatherly love and the passage of time.

2. “Rickshaw Boy” (also translated as “Camel Xiangzi”) by Lao She tells the story of Xiangzi, a poor rickshaw puller in Beijing, and his struggles to survive and achieve his modest dreams, against the backdrop of a society rife with injustice and hardship. It is a significant work of modern Chinese literature.