sphinxdroid

After resting a day at home, Yu Nian made a meal to reward himself, arriving at Xingyao office at six in the morning.

Meng Yuan held a printed timetable in his hand, speaking as he walked.

“Classes start at 8:00 in the morning and end at 6:00 in the evening. There is a two hours break at noon. In the morning, there is dance class and afternoon is vocal music. You can arrange the time at night. Can you do it?”

After learning the timetable Yu Nian replied, “No problem, I can handle this much.”

Meng Yuan fanned the class schedule and sighed, “Even if you can’t handle it, you have to manage. Our time is very tight. Five days later, He Qiubai from “The Sound of Nature” will come to see you. My connection with him is there, but whether this deal can be finalised or not, it still depends on you.”

Seeing that Yu Nian understood the importance, he didn’t go on, and pointed his finger on the paper. “The 30th to the 35th floors are all practice rooms. 307 and 337 are under my name. Don’t run around these days. Follow your teachers.”

Yu Nian nodded in agreement. He guessed that there was a reason why Meng Yuan specifically said “Don’t run around”, but Meng Yuan didn’t say any more, and he didn’t ask any more either. The most important thing at the moment is to train well.

While talking, two of them had reached the 33rd floor, and Meng Yuan raised the timetable in his hand. “The teacher is inside. I have another meeting to attend. See you at noon!”

When Yu Nian entered the dance room, the conversing voices inside stopped instantly, as if drawn to a sudden rest. In the vague words previously coming through, it seemed that there was his name, probably talking about him.

As if he didn’t hear anything, Yu Nian stood there and bowed, “Hello both teachers, I am Yu Nian, and I will work hard with both of you in the next few days.”

An Cheng smiled seeing the pleasing face of Yu Nian. “No wonder Meng Ge Qiang told us that we must take care of this one. Just from the appearance conditions, we can say that we indeed have a treasure this time.”

This man, about 30 years old, well maintained, raised his hand and said, “Hello, I am An Cheng, happy cooperation!”

For more than a year, he raised his hand to hold An Cheng’s hand and said politely, “Hello, Teacher An.”

Huo Xing, standing next to An Cheng, didn’t have much expression. There were faint wrinkles on his brows, and he looked serious, difficult to approach. “Huo Xing.”

Yu Nian, he smiled and said hello, “Hello, Teacher Huo.”

An Cheng held his arms, winking at Yu Nian, “Your teacher Huo is of this temperament. If you are lazy and cutting corners during practice, you will be killed.”

Yu Nian folded his hands together, blinking innocently, “If I am lazy, Teacher Huo, please be sure to scold me.”

An Cheng laughed and slapped Yu Nian on his shoulder, “This kid is good, let’s get started!”

But this morning, there was no chance for Yu Nian to be scolded. When Meng Yuan came to see the situation at half past eleven, Huo Xing was carrying a black water bottle, looking from a distance as Yu Nian was following An Chengxue’s movements. He briefly commented, “Very good.”

Meng Yuan raised his eyebrows and said proudly, “The person I chose is of course very good!” He was a little surprised, “But to be able to get this evaluation from stingy teacher Huo, what did Yu Nian do?”

Huo Xing glanced at Meng Yuan, “Willing to endure hardship, not complaining about pain, serious, smart, obedient to teacher, patient and persevering, and good physical condition.”

Meng Yuan tsked several times, jokingly, “How much benefit has Yu Nian given you, you are praising him so much?”

Seeing that Huo Xing concentrated on drinking water and didn’t reply, Meng Yuan became more serious, “There’s only five days, do you think Yu Nian will be ready?”

He would rather hear Huo Xing’s opinion on this issue.

“Before meeting him, I thought you were dreaming. After meeting him,” Huo Xing refused to give an absolution, “you can try.”

“With your words, I feel relieved.” Meng Yuan watched Yu Nian falling on the floor, getting up neatly and standing up again. Seeing him continuing to learn the movements, Meng Yuan hissed between his teeth, “It hurts just from listening to that ‘bang’.”

Huo Xing snorted, “Where doesn’t it hurt to learn dancing?”

At exactly twelve o’clock, the music stopped, An Cheng turned around, threw a white towel to Yu Nian, and raised his eyebrows, “Good job on working hard, you have learned well.”

Yu Nian folded the towels in two and wiped the sweat from his face and neck. His skin was very white, and because of the heat was flushed into a healthy pink now. His black hair was wet with sweat, stuck to his forehead, and his eyes were bright. “Teacher An and Teacher Huo also worked hard.”

His voice still had a slight gasp to it, and the arm holding the towel was trembling involuntarily. An Cheng looked at it, and the appreciation in his eyes became two points deeper.

Huo Xing walked over and said directly, “The last movement just now wasn’t stable, and when he raised his leg, it was too low and not in place.”

An Cheng spoke for Yu Nian, “The intensity of the exercise was too much, and he is just learning, by the end he had all but lost his leg strength, it’s already good to be able to lift it up, okay?”

Huo Xing’s temperament is really unbending, he frowned, “The movements must be standard, otherwise it is a waste of practice. He doesn’t have much time, and must utilize every second.”

Yu Nian spoke up with a smile at the right moment, “Thank you, Teacher Huo, I really couldn’t lift my legs this time. Next time, I will definitely meet the height.”

Huo Xing watched Yu Nian for two seconds, then hummed out an “um” and said nothing.

An Cheng turned to face Yu Nian, quietly pointed his finger at Huo Xing, and rolled his eyes.

Yu Nian pursed his lips, smiling.

After having lunch with Meng Yuan at noon, Yu Nian went back to the dance studio to find a mat and spread it out, and laid down with sore arms and legs. But after only lying down for two minutes, he stood up again and practiced the action Huo Xing had marked before till he could confirm that it was up to the standard, sighing.

After lying down this time, Yu Nian really didn’t want to move, his hands and feet didn’t feel like his own anymore. He didn’t know when he fell asleep. When the alarm clock rang, he realized that it was already one forty.

Sitting up, Yu Nian forced his limbs to move and took the elevator downstairs.

When he arrived at the practice room of the vocal music class, the teacher hadn’t come yet. After considering it Yu Nian started to do his own practice. After finishing it, he found someone standing at the door. Yu Nian quickly stood up and said, “Hello Teacher Zhao, I am Yu Nian.”

Zhao Xi was at least forty years old. She was wearing a black dress, was good tempered, and softspoken, “Sit down, let me see your class schedule, did you have dance in the morning?” Seeing Yu Nian nod, she smiled, “Dance practice is hard work. You were doing opening exercises just now?”

“Yes. Well, I don’t know if it was done right or not.”

“It was alright.” Zhao Xi asked while putting down the books in her hand, “Can you read scores?”

“Can.”

“Good,” Zhao Xi opened the book and handed it to Yu Nian, “Sing something for me with this beat.”

Yu Nian followed the beat once through by himself, then sang it accurately.

Zhao Xi nodded in satisfaction, thinking for a few seconds, and asked, “Have you learned the basics of vocal music before?”

Yu Nian did not conceal it, “My grandmother sang very well. When I was a child I used to sing along and grandma taught me a bit.”

Zhao Xi carefully analyzed, “Your vocal position is relatively forward. After the sound is emitted from the throat, it hits the hard palate. For breathing, you are using the combined thoracic-abdominal breathing method. This way of vocalization is not bad, but you – you can do better. In addition, your intonation, timbre and range are all very good, truthfully speaking, God has already gifted you your bread and butter^[1].” She pulled out a white manuscript paper and said, “Okay, let’s start practice.”

In the next five days, Yu Nian basically shuttled between these two training rooms. After dinner, he would seize the time to practice for two more hours in the dance studio.

Huo Xing realized that he was willingly staying back by himself to practice dance, and first said coldly, “So desperate?”

Seeing Yu Nian just laughed without arguing. Huo Xing didn’t say anything, but he started working overtime for free every day, staying to guide Yu Nian.

On the morning of the 11th, just after Yu Nian had arrived at Mengyuan’s office, he was stuffed with a glass of milk, and then pulled into the elevator bodily.

Meng Yuan was more nervous than Yu Nian, “Are you confident?”

After taking a sip of milk, there was a little milk froth on Yu Nian’s lips, making him look even more young. He nodded, “Confident.”

Meng Yuan put his palms together, raising the joined hand over his head in prayer , “Tathagata Buddha^[2], God^[3], Lao Tze^[4] in heaven!” After that, he muttered something that Yu Nian could not hear clearly. He held the milk and sipped it with a smile in his eyes.

When he arrived in the recording studio, Meng Yuan had recovered the calmness that the ace agent should have.

“After a while you go in to figure out if your voice is opening alright. He Qiubai should still take around 20 minutes to come. Then you can perform well, I believe in you!”

Yu Nian bumped fists with Meng Yuan. “Well, I believe in myself!”

Entrance of Xingyao Building.

Qu Xiaoran sat in the co-pilot, yawned three times and gave a hippy smile, “Xie You, drive me to work!”

He went to the Xie house for dinner yesterday, drank wine till late in the evening, and simply stayed at Xie house. In the morning, ignoring Xie You’s cold face, he grabbed a ride in Xie You’s car facelessly.

Xie You’s face was covered with frost, “You can get lost.”

“Take me along first, then will get lost,” Qu Xiaoran was not afraid at all, still whispering, “Speaking of the last time you came to me, didn’t you ask whether there were any newcomers in my company recently? I thought about it and asked around. After asking, I found that there really has been a newcomer.”

Xie You moved her fingers on her lap.

“…It was signed by the agent Meng Yuan, named Yu Nian, only 21 years old.”

“Yu Nian?”

“Well, Nian for every year and Yu for abundance – ‘Long life’ – that Yu Nian^[5]. I looked at the photos, they look pretty good, and I heard that the voice was also very good. Meng Yuan is planning to let him appear in the second season of “Sound of Nature”. Someone from the program team will come to test him today.”

Having said that, Qu Xiaoran eagerly suggested, “Do you want to go and have a look as well?”

Qu Xiaoran was always worried that Xie You would be suffocated from being busy with work every day. For anything interesting and exciting he would take Xie You to it. But in every ten invitations the result was almost ten rejections .

“Good.”

“Hahaha I know you have a lot of meetings to attend but—” Qu Xiaoran froze, “Hey, what did you just say?”

Xie You didn’t bother to answer him, opened the door and got out of the car. Seeing Qu Xiaoran still stunned, he frowned impatiently, “Not going?”

“Go. Of course we go! Xie You, you are definitely not the Xie You I know!”

When the two walked into the studio, several people were already standing inside. Meng Yuan was the first to discover Qu Xiaoran, and heart jumped, and took two steps with a smile, “Why are you here, President Qu?”

Then his line of sight moved, his gaze fell on Xie You’s amazing face, and everyone was a bit strangled . “Hello, Mr. Xie! You are here too!”

Qu Xiaoran made a “hush” gesture and said in a low voice with a smile, “Don’t be alarmed, we are just here to watch the excitement, you can keep working, don’t worry about us.”

After speaking, he really stood quietly.

Xie You stood behind Qu Xiaoran, looking through the glass, looking at the microphone before Yu Nian, his expression unmoving. A middle-aged man in a plaid shirt gestured at the inside, and after Yu Nian returned another gesture, three seconds later, a very clear voice came out of the speaker.

Everyone held their breath, Qu Xiaoran raised his eyebrows in surprise, and was about to look back to ask Xie You what he thought, but found that the other party seemed to be… in a daze?

Xie You had relaxed unconsciously, leaning not very obviously against the wall. His gaze was fixed in the glass room and with half closed eyes he was fully focussed on the singing of Yu Nian. His heartbeat suddenly accelerated.

Yes, this is the voice, there was no mistake.

When he heard this sound for the first time in the elevator, he was not quite sure it was Yu Nian, until now that he heard the singing, he was sure that it was this voice.

With this pleasing timbre, it seems that time was passing by much faster. After Yu Nian had finished singing the last sentence, He Qiubai, who was standing at the front, applauded.

With glass barriers, Yu Nian could not hear outside sounds, but he could see Meng Yuan’s thumbs up and He Qiubai’s applause. He took off the headset, exhaling, and then smiled.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure from the back, and Yu Nian was slightly startled – that figure by the door just now seemed to be familiar?

But before he had time to think, he was walking out of the glass room and Meng Yuan greeted him, “Come here, let me introduce you to Qu–” Meng Yuan turned around and found that Qu Xiaoran and Xie You were gone.

At his confusion, Yu Nian reminded in a low voice, “When I took off the headset, I saw the door moving.”

Meng Yuan nodded in response, thinking that this was really just to watch the excitement. Then he smiled, “This is He Qiubai whom I have mentioned several times to you.”

Yu nian bowed slightly and said with a smile, “Hello, Teacher He.”

He Qiubai and Meng Yuan are old friends for many years, and Yu Nian was already favourable in his eyes – he answered kindly, “This young one sang very well, and lao Meng showed me your dancing video. It was also very good. I am looking forward to us working together!”

Yu Nian patted his heart with a smile, “I heard your praise, my heartbeat has finally stabilized.”

He Qiubai smiled heartily.

The deal was final. In the afternoon, someone from the show crew would come to discuss the contract. He Qiubao was entangled with Pepsi, and he could not leave for too long, so he did not stay any longer.

When the recording studio was emptied, Meng Yuan handed Yu Nian a glass of honey water, and said relievedly, “You really lived up to your confidence, the old man is very picky, you actually caught his eye in one breath, not bad.”

After drinking a glass of water in one go, a little sweat came out on Yu Nian’s forehead, and he wiped it casually. “I didn’t expect that when practicing. I was mentally prepared for the worst.” He put down the cup and hesitated for a few seconds, before asking, a little embarrassed. “Brother Meng, can I… get a bit of the salary in advance?”

Meng Yuan reacted. “Short of money? Yes, the finance department hasn’t transferred the contract money yet, I’ll have to urge them to hurry. The salary is only around five or six thousand, it’s OK to pay you the full in advance. It’s not a problem at all.”

“I have troubled Brother Meng.” Yu Nian breathed a sigh of relief – others might not have believed it, but there was only 20 yuan left in his purse.

It was still early, and the morning class still had to be attended. Yu Nian took the elevator to the 33rd floor, walking and recalling the content of the dance class yesterday. After turning around a corner, two people stopped him.

The author has something to say:

Mr. Xie: Lord Tyrant is very busy and has no time to watch the excitement and listen to songs!

Thank you for reading. I am also writing an original fiction Yra in this site – do take a look if you are interested in futeristic worlds, reborn protagonists and the entertainment circle.

If you are enjoying this work, consider supporting this translation here –

Content

Translator’s Note

[1] MTL was translating it to – “God has given you food to eat.”

[2] Tathagata is the name given to Siddharth, the one who was also called Gautama Buddha, after receiving Buddhahood, that is, after he reached nirvana. He is also the one called Amitabha Buddha – there are other buddhas is buddhism, but Tathagata is the one who was in India, and was the most well known as the founder of buddhism.

More on Tathagata – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tath%C4%81gata

More on Gautama Buddha (Siddharth) – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gautama_Buddha

[3] The pinyin in Ye He Hua – signifying YHWH, or Jeehovaa or God as his name is written in the Hebrew Bible, that is Meng Yuan here is naming the christian god.

[4] Laozi, or Lao Tze. The pinyin is laojun – this is the founder of Taoism, a chinese philosopher circa 500 BC

[5] He is explaining the particular characters here, because different characters have different meanings, but may be homophonous. Every year is Niannian (年年), abundance is Youyu (有余) that is, to have (有 – to have) more (余 – more) – so Yu Nian means More (余) Year (年), that is, signifying a prayer for him to have a long life – point to note, Yu is the surname, but the name was chosen with this meaning in mind, that is, it was matched with the surname.

September 2, 2020

Under The Lights

Content

Ruha did not know if was a breath or a light years before the lost sensation to his body limbs crashed back to himself, and while he would like to say it was because of regaining control over his sudden bout of insanity by himself, it was actually because of a literal crash sounding in the room.

“Wait!! You can’t go there right now!!”

Ruha turned around. The little rabbit who had just rushed in was trying to keep his voice stable, despite the frustrated tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

The addressee of this rebuke paid no heed to the words, instead striding past Ruha and smiling at the people in the chaises.

“You must be director Zyxin?” The speaker was a young male humanoid, his red feathered wings, three on each side the only deviation from the human figure. “Its such a pleasure – Lonahan should have mentioned me, yes?”

“You don’t have a token – ”

“Perhaps we should get these unrelated parties out of here?”

The young man was smiling in an exaggerated manner, rising his eyebrows as Ruha stared back at him, refusing to move his gaze. His lips lost its arc as Ruha snorted rather audibly, pressing a palm over Titi’s shoulder.

Since the story tastes are similar here as on earth, of course there will be trash like here too.

The poor rabbit was badly trembling, face half buried in one of his colleague’s – one with petal like hair and four arms – waist. He seemed to breathe easier as Ruha started to rub his head gently.

There was a darkening bruise on the strigati’s back. Looking at the two burly, six handed guards who had followed that youth in, Ruha thought he knew what that crash was.

“I don’t take pleasure in meeting those who abuse my staff.” The director had obviously noted the same, and several of his tentacles were raising rather threateningly, before the young girl with a scaly, metallic skin pressed over one of them gently. “Nor in those who has so little professionalism as to come three days late.”

“With staff like these, no wonder director Zyxin lost Cyenna.”

This was one of the muscles. Ruha could only tell that it hit a particular sore point in the director, as his pale blue skin suddenly turned violet. Beside him the woman had stiffened too, her own tail with a sharp needle end raising up high.

“Let’s not talk about these unpleasant matters.” The young man laughed. “Director, I will bend my head for being late – though, I must say that you are wronging me. I obviously had a date with Rykhra already – is it my fault that Lonahan forgot to tell you? Besides you haven’t found your Shaon yet – aren’t you waiting for me?”

The coy tone was so ridiculous that Ruha could barely listen to all of it, and the director was obviously even more disgusted – of this Ruha was certain, for a simple fact – this arrogant peacock had come to audition for the role of Rizha Shaon.

No, no. Peacocks are nice. Must not insult peacocks.

Rizha Shaon was one of the major characters in this movie – not close to the leads by screen time, perhaps not equal to even some of secondary major characters by that – but by plot, and his significance in the story as a whole – Rizha Shaon was possibly the most important character in this movie, more than even the main lead.

The character Ruha was about to audition was meant to be a parallel to this Shaon in the lead character’s eyes, so in the script he had there were some parts to this hidden lead. Even from that partial script Ruha knew that this character was the root of the entire psychological spectrum of the story – perhaps only second to the main lead in difficulty level of representation.

And this was the character this boy wanted to play.

Ruha’s previous life had taught him that a gifted artist did not mean a genteel character necessarily, in fact, success in the glamour world often meant a reveal of the ugly heart hidden underneath a pretty skin. But, he also knew, and believed from his acquired experience of walking the world that held more shadows than the sparking lights seen from afar – that a certain amount of professionalism, focus and respect for the art was needed to have even a modicum of success in the first place.

In this boy there was nothing but an empty husk tottering on money.

The director probably knew it too. “Auditioning is one thing, but to get the role you need to perform.” He sat back down, more from the hand pressing on his shoulder than from his own willingness – Ruha could guess that the Lonahan named by this boy was likely an investor. “There is another audition going on right now so – ”

“He can wait, of course.” The boy looked back at Ruha with a laugh, gritting his teeth when Ruha stared back placidly. “Or leave, if he is in a hurry – you are doing minor roles today, right? Anyone can do those.”

The director was turning purple again. Ruha hoped people in this era did not have problems with blood pressure.

“I will like to watch, if I may.” He sent a smile at the boy, the kind he had learnt while preparing for a role of a serial killer, a practising empath who pushed the victims into growing a Stockholm syndrome for him prior to the murder – the boy went white at the smile, flinching back ever so slightly.

“S-sure.” The boy looked away quickly, words stuttering suddenly. “Watch and learn – I am never stingy about helping newcomers anyway – stay – stay if you want to.”

The staff member with petal hairs pulled Titi away, moving to a corner when the strigati refused to leave the room, directing a tearful glare at the boy – Ruha followed them, moving to the same corner, rubbing the rabbit’s head again while they waited for the boy to start.

“Audition for Rizha Shaon.” One of the staff called out, an electronic document floating out the desk – or perhaps that was a larger version of a SPIRIT, Ruha considered, since the desk was brightly lit with a number of data running over its surface – “Participant number – ”, the staff remembered that the boy had no token, and continued after a pause – “participant Drei Fynna.”

The floating document blipped in blue thrice then returned inside the desk, a copy fluttering over to the boy, to Drei Fynna, disappearing in his left earing. He seemed to pay no attention to it, closing his eyes for a moment, before beginning.

He turned slightly sideways, letting the light from the glass wall he was facing form rippling shadows on his tilted face. Shoulders tight, palms fisted, he said, “Trash belongs in trash. Beasts belong with beasts. This house has been dirtied enough.”

He paused for a moment, shoulders seeming to bend inward. After a moment he raised his face, still looking away from towards where his body was facing. “Throw it to the northern forest.” His voice was hissing. “And burn those rags. The sigil of this house is not for a monster to carry.”

At this point the scene was over. Drei Fynna straightened, looking clearly self-satisfied as he turned to the director expectantly.

“Well, we will let you know later.” The director was expressionless.

“Let me know?” Drei Fynna raised an eyebrow. “Director Zyxin, you have been postponing this work for well over a year because you couldn’t find a suitable Shaon – now that you have seen my acting, you will ‘let me know’? Heh, do you even know yourself what kind of Shaon you are looking for? Or do you think you can get me to lower my prices by dragging this on? You – how precious do you think your movie is?”

“It is precious enough to be priceless for me.” Director Zyxin said. “But then that is true for all my works and I certainly do not expect you to share that sentiment. Since you don’t wish to wait, then I will tell you right now – if necessary I will postpone this for a century, a millennia, but I certainly will not give this role to one who can not even present one hundredth fraction of Shaon’s heart. Now, I still have other auditions to cover, so…”

“Not even a hundredth fraction, you say?” Drei Fynna’s teeth were gritted. “Good. Good. Then I want to see what kind of acting can catch your eyes. This one, right?” He turned to Ruha with a furious look. “Since your eyes are so high, let’s see what kind of acting gets any of your roles – what are you standing around for?” He barked at Ruha, a snarl twisting his lips. “There are people waiting after you – you watched till now, now show what you learnt – move your feet already!”

Ruha stared back blankly for a moment, before turning his eyes towards the director. He was glad to see the director was not turning violet like before, though even on his jellyfish like face, the signs of irritation were clear.

“You harassing rest of my auditees will not make to change my mind.” Director Zyxin said, nodding slightly apologetically at Ruha.

“Harassing?” Drei Fynna laughed, the twisted snarl taking away whatever beauty he could have boasted of. “I just want to see the what the future of our industry looks like – besides, I do want to know where I fell short of your taste, Director Zyxin, surely you won’t begrudge me this opportunity for self-examination?”

Ruha caught a muttered you actually know the word self-examination coming from the staff with petal hairs beside him. He smiled to himself slightly, before looking at the director.

“I don’t mind him watching.” He said. “Director, shall I begin?”

He had known it at the very beginning, as soon as this Drei Fynna had turned his head – this boy did know the basics of acting, perhaps could have moved through the gestures fluidly enough to get by in some other movies where the focus was not so severely on the characters’ psyche, perhaps even in this movie a role with a more regular psychogeography could have been suitable for him – but he could not do, could not be, Rizha Shaon.

Drei Fynna did not understand Rizha Shaon.

He almost felt a sort of pity for this boy – for all that he had learnt how to stand beneath the lights, he had not learnt the very basic task of knowing the characters.

Characters were not learnt. They were not books. They were people, and the actor had to meet them like people – had to know them first from the outside, stalk each of their movements, their actions – and then the actor would haunt them from the inside, knowing their inner most heart, grasping their hidden thoughts. And the actor had to remove himself, just that little bit, kill his own presence just enough so that the character would never know that another person was hidden in their bones – the actor was the changeling child, the doppelganger who walked in the character’s skin, the shadow that created the real object.

Drei Fynna had learnt the character’s outside – the words and gestures. But he never really saw Rizha Shaon, the person, never knew the how it felt to be under his skin and bones, never saw the broken insides that were barely holding this character up for the most part of the movie.

Ruha was not sure he knew it well enough himself – after all, his script did not have all the scenes for Shaon. But the bit he had seen had been breath taking in its devastation.

The director had sighed and nodded, but Ruha was not looking at him. He was looking at the man who had been silent.

Almost as though he was invisible to all but Ruha.

Ruha would have thought he was seeing a ghost, and not least because how his gaze seemed to return to this man over and over again, and always found him looking at Ruha himself, intent, unblinking, unwavering – if not for the fact that one of the staff members had clearly passed a document twice towards him, and both the director, and his companion, probably an assistant director, had looked at the man several times during this debacle.

But Drei Fynna, or his hired muscles, who had left the room earlier or perhaps by now they would have attacked the director for refusing their master – none of them seemed to see the man.

Ruha had not lost control after that first sight, though all his senses seemed to revolve around that man constantly still. The man was beautiful – Ruha knew this in the same way he knew he existed in this moment, despite all the impossibilities – but he could not describe what it was that made him feel that this man was beautiful. He had long hair too, the length was probably longer than Ruha’s own, and the silver tresses were pulled back in a loose braid that fell over his right shoulder. His face – Ruha could only tell that his face looked human yet there was something in the bones that made him very not human. He had high cheekbones and very pale, almost translucent skin – much like Ruha had thought about his new body, this man’s skin seemed to be like marble, albeit far more vibrant with vitality. His eyes –

His eyes were bright, in a very literal sense, because like Ruha’s own, and indeed the only other person in this world that Ruha had seen with similar eyes in this, admittedly, very short time of being here – the outer ring of his irises were golden, then black with a gold pupil at the centre – and the glow seemed to simmer, as though drawing away all lights from the room even from this distance.

It was not that he looked like Ruha. It was also not that he did not look like Ruha.

Parts of a whole. The thought floated through, all too fast for Ruha to grasp at it properly. This person and himself were like two broken parts of a whole, one with ridges where the other carried gaping scars, and the jagged edges could fit into each other seamlessly, creating an uninterrupted whole – and this was the root of combined familiarity and unfamiliarity though Ruha could only feel it in an innate sense, not able to get a far enough distance to understand in an objective framework. This sense of recognition and alienation was part of his own existence, throbbing with his own vitality – Ruha knew and perceived this person in the same way, at the same moment that he perceived his own presence and existence, and in the same way that one could not perceive themselves in the way they perceive another being – Ruha could not grasp at this half-a-mirage of comprehension of who this person was.

He was resting with a leg on the other, dressed in a white suit without a tie, and two buttons of his shirt open, silent throughout and his eyes not moving away from Ruha for a single moment since Ruha had entered this room.

Ruha looked away, letting the weight of that gaze burn his skin as he walked to the centre of the room. “Audition for Nydryn Xyan.” The voice of the staff floated to his ears along with the answering document that floated in his SPIRIT, his eyes closed as the bastard prince who will be killed soon rose to stand in his skin. “Participant number twenty nine.”

It was a large hall room he was standing in. Xyan had known this hall room from afar, known he would never step in it – yet now, guards were dragging him in, he barely caught his balance as they pushed him in place before the throne.

In the room with glass walls that had water flowing down itself and creating ripples of shadows on all its occupants, the young boy standing in the centre seemed to stumble forward, barely catching himself. When he looked up his eyes seemed to tremble, looking up at a point higher than himself. His fingers twisted against his trouser, white and trembling, lips pale, before he straightened up, shoulders shuddering not to bend inwards, spine straight.

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September 2, 2020September 3, 2020

The Second Sweet Cake

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The elevator stopped on the 51st floor and Xie You stepped out. Hearing the movement, the secretary looked up and found that the person was Xie You. She hurriedly stood up, her^[1] hands pressed against her lower abdomen, her back tightened, “Good morning, Mr. Xie!”

Xie You stopped, “Mn^[2],” his voice was cold, “Is Qu Xiaoran here?”

The secretary stared at the marble floor and did not dare to raise her eyes properly, “President Qu is in the office now, do you need me to take you there?”

“Good.”

The secretary walked quickly to Xie You’s side to lead the way, not daring to say a word.

She came to Xingyao for so long, and it was not the first time she had come across Xie You looking for Mr. Qu, but her heart beat faster every time – from fear. As for the rumors of Mr. Xie’s amazing beauty, she had not been able to take a look, the momentum of the other party always suppressing all desire of raising her head.

Closing the office door, Xie You raised his eyes to look at the person sitting behind the desk, and took a closer look. As expected, this person had fallen asleep resting on his chin again.

Xie You tapped on the desk with his fingers, “The teacher called you.”

“Which question!?” Qu Xiaoran stood up straight for a while, and after being confused, he became angry. “Fuck, Xie You, can you fucking stop this trick every time? Laoji nearly got a heart attack, are you planning to take responsibility of my funeral ?”

Xie You sneered, “Then can you not sleep in the office every time?”

“All right, all right,” Qu Xiaoran grabbed his somewhat long hair, and weakly sat down again. “Why did you come here today? Don’t want to drive or still have any important documents left for checking?”

The invitation card was sandwiched between Xie You’s distinct fingers, “My mother asked you to come over for a meal in a few days .”

Qu Xiaoran was sitting with his legs crossed, waiting for Xie You’s words to finish, and reached out to accept the invitation, smiling, “Okay, tell auntie, I must be there.” After speaking, he whistled.

Seeing Xie You frowning, Qu Xiaoran hurriedly sat up straight, with a flattering smile, “I heard the financial magazine that used your photo as the cover with your interview has sold countless copies, selling out directly? This sales boom directly kill the popular traffic under my hand, Mr. Xie, do you have any comments?”

Xie You: “No.”

Qu Xiaoran was accustomed to Xie You’s indifference. He took his mobile phone to open Weibo on his own, reading it with eloquence.

“A netizen named ‘IAmMrs.Xie’ commented on your Weibo. ‘I missed this one. I don’t know how long it will take to see my husband’s stunning face again! I want to save this copy, pass it on to my descendants, show my grandson when I are old, and tell him – this is your grandpa!”

After hearing this, Xie You frowned and corrected, “I am not her husband.”

Qu Xiaoran knew that this playmate since his childhood was like an automatic air conditioner on the surface, living beings could not get within ten metres of him, but in fact, inside he was extremely innocent and pure.

“Yes, yes, of course you are not!” He winked, teasing, “Our President Xie-ah has to keep safe all his virginity for his future true love!”

Xie You was too lazy to speak, “I’m leaving now.” He walked a few steps outside, thinking of something, and pretending to ask casually, “Your company is going to hire new people?”

Qu Xiaoran was happily flipping through the comment section of Weibo with his mobile phone. Hearing that he looked up blankly, “Our company is about to recruit new people? Why don’t I know?”

Xie You said in his heart, you knowing this will really be strange, sure enough, I should not have asked this one this question. Without waiting for Qu Xiaoran to say anything, he waved his hand, leaving directly.

When the secretary saw him coming out, she quickly pressed the elevator.

Yu Nian had not expected to run into the same person again..

He paused, then walked into the elevator with his expression unchanged. He was determined not to stare, but after a while, he could not help glancing at the man through the mirror.

Maybe… he won’t be discovered?

The other party’s facial features were three-dimensional, with deep eyebrows, and slightly thin lips. With a cold aura, there was a feeling of sharpness. The shirt button was buttoned to the top, and the tie was neatly tied, and even the raised knot of adam’s apple looked particularly sensuous.

Xie You loosened his black tie a little with his right hand, and met Yu Nian’s eyes in the mirror, “Good looking?”

The voice is also very nice… No, I was found!

Sensibly aware that the other party was expressionless, but not unhappy, Yu Nian simply looked back at him openly, smiling sincerely and praised, “Well, really good looking.”

But it is also very rude to always look at the other party so unreasonably. Yu Nian took out his mobile phone and lowered his head. After thinking about it, he sent a WeChat message to his senior, saying that he had successfully signed a contract and would take him out to eat together when his senior would be free.

Standing two steps away, Xie You’s face was tilted halfway to a side, looking a bit unnatural, and his ears were slightly red.

If Qu Xiaoran was there, he would definitely jump up in shock – My prodigious junior Xie You, you can actually feel shy?

After coming out of the Xingyao Building, Yu Nian took his old-fashioned bicycle. He lifted his long legs and sat firmly in the car. While riding in the direction of home, he made plans in his heart.

Meng Yuan had handed him a set of keys. It was a two-bedroom and one-drawing room apartment. This residential area was ten minutes away from Xingyao Building. He could live there during the contract period.

His own home was in the west of the city, and it took an hour to come here, not counting the time lost in traffic jams. The training course would begin in three days, and he had to move in as soon as possible…

At this time, Yu Nian vaguely noticed that someone was looking at him. Turning his head, he found that across a green belt, a black Aston Martin was also waiting before a red light.

Yu Nian was stunned for two seconds when he saw the person sitting in the back seat clearly, then nodded politely and smiled.

Xie You looked at the white shirt sleeves Yu Nian had rolled up through the half open car window. His eyes inadvertently swept over the bicycle whose chain was rusted and should have been scrapped already, and finally turned his attention back to Yu Nian’s face, nodding cold and restrained.

The red light jumped to the green light, and traffic started moving again.

Yu Nian did not have many things of importance to move. Some small bits and pieces he had been using since childhood, a few pots of flowers, a box of sheet music, a box of clothes, and two boxes of books were more or less all of it. In order to save money, he moved back and forth several times by himself, and it took a day to complete everything.

When he received a call from Meng Yuan, saying he was going to come and visit his new place, Yu Nian knew that the other party probably wanted to see his living condition, but he did not refuse.

The next morning, Meng Yuan arrived at Yu Nian’s apartment.

His eyes had dark circles and he did not have much energy, “Do you mind if I borrow the bathroom to wash my face with cold water? I stayed up all night last night, I am already too old to continue like this …”

Yu Nian heard him mention that he had stayed up all night, immediately changed the zhong^[3] tea, and started to steep a pot of nong^[3] tea, “Of course I don’t mind, you go ahead and do whatever you need to.”

With permission, Meng Yuan went into the bathroom with his eyelids drooping, only to rush out within a minute.

Yu Nian had just put down the tea can in his hand and was about to ask what was wrong, when he suddenly saw what Meng Yuan was holding.

At this time, all sleepiness and exhaustion had run away from Meng Yuan’s face, and his eyes were shining, “This, this…Is this a tangled lotus ceramic plate from Yun^[4] kiln?!”

For more than a year, he blinked his eyes, “It is a blue-white porcelain with tangled lotus pattern, but it’s a fake^[5]. I bought it at the antique market for forty-two yuan.”

Meng Yuan cautiously held the tangled lotus plate, “I thought as well, it must be fake, if it is genuine, at least three to four hundred thousand, how can it be used for holding soap in the bathroom… but it is so good! Look at this underglaze, how beautiful!”

Yu Nian nodded in agreement, “Well, I don’t understand this very well, I just bought it because I thought it looked good.”

Meng Yuan looked at it for a while, and walked back holding the plate, while sighing. “The more you look, the more real it is. You are lucky, this imitation has a lot of skills in it!”

After washing his face, Meng Yuan became more energetic. He sat on the sofa and looked at the tea set that Yu Nian had made tea in with a close eye. “This celadon^[6] tea set is also a fake? This imitation is also very good. You see, the texture is delicate, the shape is dignified, the glaze is cyan^[7], and the pattern is also elegant. The tea is brewed, and the hue is beautiful. Not bad, you are very skilled.”

Yu Nian handed a cup of tea to Meng Yuan, and smiled unembarrassed. “The elders in the family used to like making tea. They studied tea utensils and tea sets, so I saw and learnt a bit.

After drinking a cup of nong tea, Meng Yuan pinched his eyebrows, “Came today to see if you are used to living here.”

Yu Nian put down the cup and listened to him carefully.

His focussed look is a very comforting sight for Meng Yuan, his face getting better. “The second reason is to tell you about my preliminary plan.”

Meng Yuan’s tone was serious, and he tapped his fingers twice on his knees, “I have carefully read the information you filled in these past two days. You can’t dance and have not received professional vocal guidance. We must pay close attention to these two aspects. Your teachers have already been arranged by me for you, and the timetable has been sent to your inbox. Take a look when you have time. Don’t be late for class.”

Yu Nian nodded in acquiescence. “Okay, I must study hard.”

“You must study hard.” Meng Yuan pretended to be mysterious, whispering, “I grabbed a spot for you in a show!”

Yu Nian laughed, his eyes bending like crescent moons, and he lowered his voice too, “What program is it?”

Meng Yuan kept up the suspense, “Guess?”

Yu nian really did not have a clue, so he gave in directly. “Brother Meng, I really can’t guess. You tell me the answer to this riddle?”

Meng Yuan cleared his throat, cocked the corners of his mouth, “He Qiubai is a familiar name, right?”

“I know, the “Sound of Heaven” that was red the year before last, and the “Sound of Nature” – that was on fire last year are all programs made by him.”

Meng Yuan saw that Yu Nian did his homework, and didn’t say anything unrelated anymore. He said bluntly, “It’s him, he is preparing for the second season of “Sound of Nature” this year, and I put you in.”

Yu Nian was really surprised.

He had heard from his senior brother Qi Zhe that Meng Yuan was one of Xingyao’s two pillar agents, and many celebrities had to be respectful and call him “Brother Meng” when they met him. Had a very high vision when it came to selecting people, but correspondingly, the resources in his hand were also excellent.

“Is this surprising?” Meng Yuan leaned back on the sofa and looked Yu Nian in the eye. “I signed you, and we are tied together for at least these five-year of contract period. You don’t have to think far now. Don’t worry, concentrate on the training class, let’s take it step by step.”

Yu Nian also knew he was right, he poured another fresh cup of tea and offered it to Meng Yuan with both hands, “As you^[8] say.”

The two chatted for a while. Meng Yuan got up and walked around in the living room. He saw that on the balcony, in addition to two pots of flowers, Yu Nian had also grown a pot of green onions at home. He wondered, “You can cook? “

“Well, I can do the simple recipes. If there is a chance, will Brother Meng like to taste my craft?”

Meng Yuan agreed readily. He was more certain that he was very accurate in picking the right artist, and that his family’s Yu Nian would only get better with time. Just moved in, and the room furnishings are clean and tidy, not to mention, can even cook by himself!

“It’s good to be able to cook. This is also a good point. Your public image has not been decided yet. I will consider the data again…”

As he was about to leave, Meng Yuan’s gaze suddenly froze, “No, this flowerpot you grow onions…” He was puzzled, “Fake blue-white porcelain plum branch pattern jar^[9]?”

Yu Nian’s face did not change, “Well, yes, fake.”

The author has something to say:

Mr. Xie: Lord Tyrant is never shy!

Nian Nian: Well, this is a fake.

Thank you for reading. I am also writing an original fiction Yra in this site – do take a look if you are interested in futeristic worlds, reborn protagonists and the entertainment circle.

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Translator’s Note

[I am on wordpress free plan, so I have no access to any plugins, hence, the notes can not automatically connect here – you need to keep the numbering in mind and check up the notes accordingly – sorry for the trouble.]

The first two paragraphs use the male character for the third person pronoun – but all subsequent passages mentioning this secretary in this chapter use the female character. SInce the male character pronoun is also used to signify third-person without mentioning a specific gender, I decided to translate all the pronouns for this secretary to ‘She’.

The onomatopoeia actually is ‘En’, signifying an ascent, or an enquiry or an acknowledgement depending on the circumstance. It’s essentially a wordless humming sound. But in english such a sound is usually expressed through ‘Mn’ or ‘Hmm.’ I went for the first one as the sound is closer to ‘En.’

This is translated as Seed tea (Zhong Cha) – likely tea made from more young buds, or made for a gentler flavour. The second one is directly translated as Strong tea (Nong Cha) – obviously a tea that has a strong flavour for getting rid of sleepiness. The way this sentence was framed, I felt that these two types of tea are called by these words – that is these are proper nouns rather than acting as adjectives, so I kept the pinyin.

This is a specific pattern. The exact translation would read – “tangled lotus branch plate that has come out of Yun kiln”. You can see the images here in this google search https://www.google.com/search?rlz=1C1CHZL_enIN805IN808&sxsrf=ALeKk02liYWb3WyKuRdrq2YRQCgOJ7wRDQ:1598302265560&source=univ&tbm=isch&q=%E7%BC%A0%E6%9E%9D%E8%8E%B2%E7%BA%B9%E7%9B%98&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjl4qD227TrAhWLYMAKHXzHBosQsAR6BAgKEAE

According to this search result, nearly all these plates are from Qing dynasty – which is also when this style of porcelain reached the height of its technical excellence. Wikipedia tells that the Yuan dynasty also had such porcelain, in fact this was when the blue and white porcelain started to become popular in the courts . https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yuan_dynasty#Ceramics

Now, Yun kiln seems to be a specific centre where such porcelain was made well – a google search leads me to mentions of Yuzhou yun kiln (Yuzhou is a place name, and was one of the two main places for making Jun ware historically. Yun kiln automatically mean Yuzhou Yun which was likely the name the of the centre making these Jun ware.) and jun ware – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jun_ware and that Jingdezhen ware which was the blue-white porcelain maker for the court from Ming dynasty (it was established in Yuan dynasty but since Ming dynasty made porcelain only for imperial use) onwards, also present replicas of jun ware during Qing dynasty – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jingdezhen_porcelain

Jingdezhen ware are porcelain with an underglaze of blue and white (and they have existed from Tang dynasty onwards, though only shards are found – but these were not Jun ware – replicating Jun ware but in the glaze of blue-white porcelain only happened in Qing dynasty. Also Jun ware was first found from Song dynasty period, lasting till Ming dynasty – which was also when blue and white porcelain gained value in court. So Jun ware was a specific type of pottery that probably came to be later or at the same time around blue-white porcelain, but did not continue for as long. At present of course, this is a line of antique with very high value.) – links given here show that original jun ware was found from Song dynasty onwards – and this was not blue-white porcelain.

This plate is probably Qing period, since it seems that Yuzhou Yun kiln used to produce Jun ware themselves – and jun ware could not be blue and white till Jingdezhen produced replicas based on Jun ware but with the technique for blue-white glazing, and this was only in Qing period – so likely such a replica when produces by a kiln that could produce original jun ware has much higher value and artistry compared to a blue-white replica of jun ware made elsewhere, even if in the same period.

Also if you are like me and never read up on Chinese dynasties prior to this moment, you may find this useful – https://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/chem/hd_chem.htm and https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dynasties_in_Chinese_history

The MTL is imitation – which also fits in here, but ‘fake’ is a better synonym for the connotation in author’s afterword – so I changed it.

The pinyin is Qingxi. Also a specific type of glazed porcelain – either a jade green, or a glaze with minute cracking pattern on it. Point to note – this is older than the blue-white porcelain, because as the wikipedia page below mentions – this kind of porcelain was popular in the courts before being replaced by the blue-white ceramic of Yuan Dynasty. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Celadon

MTL says ‘blue and green’, the pinyin is Qing. This is the colour of jade, more to green than to blue, though it can vary. I am using Cyan because this is the shade that is exactly in between blue and green.

The MTL is ‘I listen to you’. This is not a phrase said in english – so I changed it, but its not really possible to express clearly how respectful Yu Nian is being – he is being very polite, not is a flattering sense, but rather for him this is the regular way of behavior – point to note about his attitude, he is constantly using the more polite form of ‘You’ – Nin, rather than Ni.

Image for Blue-White porcelain plum branch pattern jar from google – https://www.google.com/search?rlz=1C1CHZL_enIN805IN808&sxsrf=ALeKk015T4M2knVsoS-e9cdmvEpfT8jIRg:1598306546072&source=univ&tbm=isch&q=%E4%BB%BF%E7%9A%84%E9%9D%92%E8%8A%B1%E6%A2%85%E6%9E%9D%E5%A4%A7%E7%BD%90&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi6vK7v67TrAhXHasAKHSHVD4oQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1280&bih=529

September 2, 2020September 2, 2020

At First Sight

Content

When one faces a constant stream of the unknown and the unusual, then at a point they will lose the enthusiasm of being surprised, will turn numb to the sheer amount of unfamiliarity. Ruha would like to argue that was not the case with him, that he was simply too devoted to going through the script to truly appreciate the novelties of travelling in this future of an unknown number of billions of years, and with good reason too, since the script, even though it was only a partial piece and not the whole thing, was still of a length that Ruha could not have hoped to even finished reading all of it, much less remember everything, if not for the fact that he had multiple memory related neurological and psychological issues, that he had apparently brought over with himself even post-death. As it were, by the time he was to disembark from the… vehicle, because he did not know any similar contraption of earth that could correspond to this thing, Lephis called it dura, and Ruha was not sure if it was a nick name for this particular vehicle, or a common name for all vehicle of this nature, and by that he meant a three dimensional polygenic object that glided through air and had more room on the inside than was obvious from the outside – Ruha was so overwhelmed with the amount of information he had registered on this travel, and with the constant flow of data from his brain accompanying these large amount of stimuli – that he was past numbness, and facing the risk of passing out from another migraine attack if he could not silence his head.

“I will wait outside.” Lephis told him, nodding at what Ruha supposed was the entrance. It looked like a wall of water… or mercury, actually, flowing upwards. “Once you enter, you should see further instructions on your SPIRIT.”

Ruha nodded, then hesitated, before saying, “You don’t have to wait. I want to try going back by myself. This… er… it drives automatically, right?”

“Yes.” Lephis braught forward his own SPIRIT, a silver design embedded in his skin on the back of his left hand. “Then… here, scan the key. When returning you just need to select the destination you are going to, here, this is the address book, see?”

Ruha watched carefully, a bit wry at how easily Lephis agreed to let him handle this… dura, it really doesn’t look like a car and had it not been self-driven, I wouldn’t the first thing about driving this thing, despite his obvious awareness that Ruha had never driven before.

“If you feel confused about any part of handling the dura, or your SPIRIT, call me.” A six fingered palm patted Ruha’s head, brushing through his hair for a moment. Lephis had insisted of leaving his hair untied – the people at audition may want to give you a minor make-up or dress change, it is best to keep yourself in the most natural condition so that they know what they are working with – Ruha had not understood why tying his hair would take away from the natural condition, till he had seen other people while in the drive. The ones whose head embellishments could come close to what he considered hair often kept the said part of their body in shapes and forms that… Ruha decided he loved open hair, he absolutely adored keeping open hair. And the few, very few individuals whom he saw with recognisably humanoid structure, including hair, all kept their tresses long and open, similar to Ruha himself.

“My SPIRIT is marked as your emergency contact.” Lephis reminded him.

“I will call if needed.” Ruha smiled at his caretaker, whose tails had gone back to whipping back and forth in a quick movement, that Ruha supposed was a marker for both delight that Ruha was capable of being independent, and also a result of worry at leaving Ruha alone.

An authentic example of overprotective yet very capable parent. Just a few billion years after that particular species of parenthood existed in earth.

Nodding in farewell, Ruha breathed out a small sigh and neared the veil of uninterrupted liquid flowing upwards. As he neared it, a small beep came from his SPIRIT, and the veil rippled slightly, one area reversing the flow and starting to move downwards. Ruha stepped through that portion, half expecting to get wet, and was relieved when he emerged completely dry, in a large circular hall like structure where he could see a number of other… people sitting and walking around, very likely other participants for the audition, despite their varied specie, from the extensive types of bodies present, because Ruha could see, even from afar, his perceptions and sense organs had a greater range and accuracy now, something he had noticed as soon as waking up, a black metal with symbols, numbers, from his quickly spinning brain, attached to… well, everyone did not have a recognisable hand, so… better to call those forelimbs.

It was similar to the metal token hanging on his own wrist, that has appeared the moment he had come through the liquid veil… portal? door?

Ruha looked around, found an empty bench. Walking over to it, he found, to his great delight at the moment of sitting down, an automatic backrest rising up, and both the seat and the backrest were quite fluffy and squishy, though Ruha kept his brain firmly from talking about what kind of material it was.

He was finally getting control of his brain, though the progress was slow.

He sat there for a moment, looking around, and then got up again. Walking over to a round couch where two people with antlers were sitting with a bunch of electronic pages strewn over their laps, Ruha extended the black token, mimicking the action from another person who had just come in through the liquid veil.

“Twenty nine… Ruha, right?” One of the antler person ran their SPIRIT over his token, smiling slightly as they looked up.

“Yes.” Ruha smiled back, taking the token that they returned. The other antler person pulled out a page from their SPIRIT and handed it to Ruha.

“Its to keep a record of the attendees.” They explained, as Ruha blinked at the page hovering in his palm, before waving his SPIRIT over it. The page with gold luminescence blipped a blue light thrice in quick succession, before forming a copy of itself. Ruha watched as the new copy touched his SPIRIT and vanished… er, no, entered his SPIRIT… and the original was taken back by the antler person.

“When you go in for your turn remember to give only the token to Titi – ah, right, you wouldn’t know – that’s the strigati with the files in audition room.”

“The only one with any files, in fact.” The second antler person added helpfully, looking way too gleeful. “Poor bunbun, and he had a chance to get out of logistics too.”

“Well it can’t be helped.” The first one was more genuinely sympathetic for this absent… bunbun, rabbit? “Tulia asked for that spot, and Titi can’t refuse him anything, ever. Remember to give only the token, now, the receipt is for you to keep.”

Ruha nodded, and smiled again, faintly relieved at getting an opening for leaving the conversation around what increasingly seemed to be this Titi’s poor emotional choices. He returned to his previously chosen squishy chair, looking up as a part of the wall lighted up, someone with five tails exiting from it.

“Eighteen.” An androgynous voice sounded, the number appearing over that lit up area of the wall, and Ruha saw a person with hair like petals and tantacles for lower limbs getting up – he counted nine tentacles before that person disappeared through the walls.

Species, shape, form – none of them seemed to be a criteria for the audition. In his own time Ruha had been familiar with green screen acting that was a necessity for a multitude of non-humanoid forms in movies, particularly for works in speculative genres – he wondered if now some similar technology was used to change the actor’s visual shapes in to the desired form.

Or. He thought, lips twitching at the thought. The audience of this world and time doesn’t care about realistic representations – they only want to see the acting and can appreciate that irrespective of the varied visuals of the actors.

Leaning back against the soft cushion at this back, Ruha returned to the script. The tropes this story played with were not particularly different from what the stories of his past world – in fact, perhaps the greatest unusual factor for him was the span of the film. Though Ruha supposed, that had in it been in his old world – such a story would have been more common in a novel, and would have faced much criticism from the more mainstream readership, given that it was set in a world of shifters, the lead character was firmly in the grey zone of morality – Ruha thought it was leaning more towards darker grey, and that was being generous to this character – and the primary relationship focus was around a pair of half-brothers.

And even his partial script made the highly sexualised nature of most scenes very obvious, along with a large number of scenes showing a variety of penetrative and otherwise sexual interaction between characters. Coupled with the equal density of blood, gore and death present in the scenes – Ruha could guess that the censor board here likely had very different filtration and rating system, that was if a censor board existed at all.

If not for the complicated plot based around social and political hierarchy and the constant movement of character psychology that were the core of the story, based only on the scene descriptions, Ruha would have thought he came to act in a porn film.

As it were, he found himself wishing he could have access to the whole script. The character growth of the most characters were obvious even in this partial script, but naturally he could not appreciate the entirety of their psyche without knowing all the characters equally. And that was another part that he loved about this script – each character had to be understood from other characters’ perspective of theirs, what they themself felt was nearly always an amalgamation or a reflection, often both, of the other characters’ perception of them. Likely that was why even for a minor character’s audition the script was this long – the character Ruha was supposed to represent was meant to be a parallel of another major character in the lead character’s eyes, and so Ruha’s script, along with an overview of the part preceding his scenes, also included several scenes for the lead and this other major character.

Ruha could tell that these scenes were chosen carefully, meant to be the key for creating the parallel in his character depiction.

He really wanted to see the whole thing.

Perhaps, if he could successfully get in the crew, he could ask someone to help him get one. Minor roles like this did not have much chance to make such requests, but from the antler people he saw earlier, Ruha thought this crew is likely to be a friendly one, and may not mind his request. And if his acting was suitable enough for this world for him to pass the audition, he knew he would be good enough to satisfy the director.

It depended on taste, at this point. Ruha knew nothing of this world’s preference or demands for acting techniques. All he could present was what he had known in his old world – but given the story had enough familiar nature for him to consider where such a story would have found a market in his previous life, Ruha was reasonably confident that the aesthetics of this world was something he could grasp hold of.

He wondered, absentminded suddenly, who would be playing the lead. This was one of the more complex characters Ruha had ever come across – not a hero, for most of his actions could not be considered ethical or moral, irrespective of whether its in the context of the spectator’s world, or the world in the movie. But he was not an anti-hero either, certainly not a villain, for each of his actions had a long inheritance of injustice against himself, and was needed for him to exist as himself.

Ruha suddenly realised that in his hurry to get his new found life moving, and to avoid thinking about his present situation, he had completely neglected doing any research regarding the industry he was trying to enter. While he supposed that it would have to be an actor with proven capability, he knew nothing of the kind of saturation there was in this entertainment industry of this world.

Reminding himself to check up on at least a general overview of the situation after returning, Ruha looked down at the script again, sighed and closed his SPIRIT. He could barely focus on the written words now, firstly because he was too involved in fine-tuning the psyche of the character he would be presenting soon, and secondly because he did not need to look at it again. In fact, right after going over it once, Ruha could have recited the entirety of the piece of script he had, punctuations and footnotes included.

He had always thought this was more connected to his physical body, than with his mind, but since carrying that ability past death and rebirth, Ruha had had to reconsider.

He did not know the exact source of this. The doctors he had consulted had told him it was a combination of hyperthemesia and eidetic memory. A few had mentioned that it could be related to his synesthesia. None had been able to give him a solution.

At least the doctors acknowledged that exceptional memory, irrespective of the exact nature of scientific name, was more trouble than it was worth, particularly in a case like his, where Ruha remembered, was incapable of forgetting or having the memory fade the slightest bit from the exact moment when it was forming in the first place, every infinitesimal fraction of any given second in his life.

Life in a literal sense. Ruha could not fall into deep sleep. Could not faint, could not be hypnotised – or rather, his body could be, but his senses would stay awake, and record everything for him in real time sans any control on any of his limbs and organs.

At times he had wondered that he was not insane. At other times he had been certain of being insane.

Ruha had not tried to fall asleep after coming here, but given the familiar capacity of his brain that only seemed to expand upon rebirth, he had little hope of finding any success here either.

“…known this, then we would not have tried at all.”

“True, true. With Lylan here, none of us have a chance at all.”

Ruha blinked, startled out of his reverie at the loud voices. In a couch diagonally to his left, five or six people surrounded one person who was laughing at the words spoken just now.

“Really now, Tianni.” The person in the centre – Ruha guessed that was the Lylan the prior speaker was touting, male humanoid, from his voice and shape, in fact Ruha could not identify his non-human characteristics from here, so he could be a future version of humankind for all he knew – spoke, voice clearly satisfied. “Winning an audition depends on the director’s taste, you know.”

“Anyone with eyes would know that you are best person for this.”

“Right? You don’t have to be so polite with us, we have also been in this field for a few years now, everyone can see for whom this role is.”

Ruha stared blankly at this conversation before looking away, lips twitching despite himself.

Apparently, foot licking to climb up existed here as much as it had on earth.

“You, are you a new one?”

Ruha wondered if he had stared at that group for too long to receive this attention, and reminded himself not to give in to his inner desire of rolling his eyes. Looking at the speaker’s irritated eyes – four eyes, two on each side of the nose, her nose, because this person’s figure was rather like a humanoid female’s – Ruha wondered if his face gave away his feelings.

“Can’t you talk?” This one had a tail and cat ears. Ruha could not figure out the gender.

“Who is your agent?” The first one seemed impatient now. Ruha sighed to himself.

“No agent.” He said.

Someone scoffed at the words. “Twenty nine, right?” The cat eared one glanced at the token on him, laughing. “Right after Lylan.”

Ruha looked at the said silent figure at the centre. “Wish you luck.”

“You!” Ruha could not figure out which one had made the snarl. “What do you mean?”

“Forget it.” Ruha watched as Lylan snorted, finally making a sound. “Its good for newbies to be confident.”

Ruha watched him standing up. The black token was gleaming, likely the signal that it was his turn now.

“Of course, overconfidence can be rather self-defeating.” He heard the drawl passing by him, the voice twisting for a moment, obviously irritated that Ruha wasn’t watching him. “You still have the chance to learn this lesson early in your career, though, so I will congratulate you beforehand.”

“You are too kind, a thing like this, why waste your breath?”

“Yeah, like he would know to be grateful.”

“What are you saying? Lylan is so kind, what can we do?”

Now I am sure these group have human genes. Ruha thought to himself, trying not to laugh. Perhaps some of them are even full humans.

Feeling quite cheerful at the familiarity, Ruha flicked at his SPIRIT, checking if it needed to be silenced, or if that was the default. He flipped through all the functions, mind mostly on the character he would present soon. By now he had a clear image of the role, could fall in to it at any moment.

After a while, he was not certain how long, Ruha saw his token lighting up. Getting up, he saw the group from before was watching him, and laughing to themselves, still huddled around their leader, who seemed to have returned just now.

They might have said something to him, though Ruha did not pay attention, walking through the lit up part of the wall – checking that his number was showing up on the top of it – he walked in, coming to stand in another circular room, divided halfway through with thick blue glass, and Ruha could see the silhouette of about five or six people through it, three sitting and others standing around.

On this side of the divider there was a desk where a person… this is Titi, right?

He, because the antler people said it’s a he, indeed had certain similarities with rabbit, in fact his body, though standing upright, was covered with white fluff like that of a rabbit and had the same glasslike eyes and the long ears of that small mammal from earth – though his ears was were three pairs instead of one, and his eyes were a bright electric blue rather than red. Also, he had wings, bird like, with feathers and all, also three pairs, that were significantly larger than his actual body size, though, Ruha thought, that wasn’t saying much, considering this bunbun is only upto the height of my waist.

“Token?”

His voice was like a child’s. Ruha went forward, handing him the token, watching as the rabbit scanned it quickly over a machine, and Ruha’s SPIRIT glowed once in response.

“Best of luck.” The rabbit, Titi, smiled at him, looking up. His teeth were not like rabbit’s though, if anything, it was like that of a feline. “Do you want to rub my head for luck?”

Ruha blinked, opened his mouth, closed it, looking at the eager look and the tilted forward head of the waist high rabbit person, Strigati, he reminded himself; bowing down, he rubbed the fluffy head gently, scratching behind the ears.

It was as soft as it looked, and from the pleased whine from the rabbit, the fluffball enjoyed it too.

“You are very good.” Titi grinned up. “Do your best, I hope you will join us in the crew.”

“Are you harassing this one too?”

Ruha turned around. The voice had come from behind the glass. Titi grumbled at the voice.

“I am not.” He called back, lowering his voice and muttering, “You are just jealous you didn’t get rubbed. Well, see you later.” The last bit was at Ruha.

Nodding and smiling in response, Ruha walked past the divider. He was already falling in his character’s skin, pushing away all straying thoughts. The room was wider on this side of the glass divider, more than Ruha had expected. The walls were all glass from floor to ceiling, with silent water gliding down constantly, the fountain likely set on the outer side. On the wall directly opposite to where Ruha was standing, several large chaises were set, and all three of its occupants were watching him.

Ruha knew he should be greeting them, should introduce himself. As it were, he could not move his eyes from where it first fell, dragged almost out of his own will as though captive to a magnetic force of the same magnitude that had kept his earth tilted on an unwavering axis.

This person was the closest to a human that Ruha had seen till now, somehow feeling it within himself that they were the same kind. Yet, he was the most alien, otherworldly among everything he has known as well, and not only for the strange attraction that was keeping Ruha’s attention bound. It was that familiarity. Ruha knew he could not have seen him in his previous life, or even anyone similar to him – for nothing and no one could come close to be compared to this man. And his brain and memories, that had not truly fell silent till he had come here, was finally empty of all thought, was blank of everything but a sense of connection to this complete stranger that seemed to vibrate within Ruha’s bone marrows.

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Content

September 1, 2020

Of Sinners

The hand slid down slowly, fingertips pressed against glistening skin ever so lightly. Sarathiel’s eyes followed its trajectory, his knuckles trembling from how tightly he was grabbing at his robes. He felt himself swallow past the dryness in his tongue, as Dantalion’s fingers caught on Sytry’s hardened nub, and the long digits flicked the reddened nipple with a callousness that had both Sytry and Sarathiel flinch – the former from sharp pleasure, the later from the sight.

There was a low chuckle brushing past Sarathiel’s earlobe, the heat spreading down his spine. As Dantalion proceeded to pinch and tug harshly at the abused nub again, Sytry’s keening filling the room in response – he could not help but close his eyes, trying to push down the hot flush at the thought, anticipation, of a similar treatment awaiting for himself.

“Eyes open.” The amused voice nipping at his ears had no waves, as though its owner had not slapped Sarathiel’s cheek just now, as though he wasn’t choking Sarathiel on his fingers right now. Sarathiel could barely gasp out a cry, much less make an actual answer. All he could feel were the rough callouses on the fingers that rubbed and tugged on his tongue, and the hand that burned white hot on his thigh, dragging up his disarrayed robe ever so gently.

“You wanted to watch.” Roseier’s voice fell into a purr. “Isn’t that right?”

Sarathiel would have wanted to refute him. But even if his mouth had been free to form words, he knew he could not, not when it was true.

There’s no reason to hide away from sin. He reminded himself, in between breathes that caught every now and then, in tandem to Rosier’s exhales against his ear. Rather to face it and turn away – that is the true nature of virtue.

In front of him Sytry had fallen between Dantalion’s thighs, chocked sobs sounding from where the dark-haired demon fucked into his throat. Sarathiel felt his own breath stuttering at the sight. Dantalion moved with a harshness that left Sytry reeling every time, the pale demon having no way to retreat with his head kept in place under his lover’s grip.

Sarathiel wondered, almost absently, what Dantalion’s seed tasted like, heard Rosier laugh and knew that the demon had read his mind.

A sharp sob rushed up his chest as shame burned on his tongue that was still suckling at the invading fingers, and before Sarathiel could regain his composure, of what was left of it at least, he heard a broken mewl sounding from his right, from his companion that he had been trying to ignore because he could not possibly look another angel in the eye right now.

Kushiel was sprawled on his front, red robes pulling at his throat while the rest of him was flushed bare. Sarathiel felt himself whimper as Belias pushed in the second marble on the string inside Kushiel, the mirror behind them showing him clearly how the angel’s reddened entrance glistened with saliva, trembling as the marble caught on the tight, puckered edges before being forced inside. Kushiel groaned again, and Sarathiel could see him crying even as he twisted his own nipples, the abused nubs a dark red against his pale flesh.

He is punishing himself. Sarathiel thought. Punishment means he has taken pleasure where he should not have.

“Then how shall you punish him, angel of discipline?” Rosier whispered against his ear, Sarathiel’s thought ringing loud to all of the room’s occupants. He saw Kushiel’s body trembling, sharp sobs spilling out for a single moment, before he went back to biting his lips, pressing his face against the soft bed.

Sarathiel felt his spine arching as Rosier’s finger, finally, pinched at his nipple, the other hand thumbing at the tip of his cock that was safely secured behind its silvery cage, never to be removed lest he spilled his seed and fell from heaven. He felt his toes curling as Roseir’s fingers pulled away all of a sudden, before sinking in within his moist passage with a sharp violence that made his muscles spasm with fluid heat.

From behind blurred visions he watched Dantalion spilling over Sytry’s lips, the thick white liquid dripping down the pale demon’s throat and heaving chest.

Envy is a cardinal sin. He thought.

“He has taken pleasure actively.” Sarathiel mumbled, squirming as Rosier’s fingers rubbed his inner walls, exploring his shame with a careless ease. “He shall be tied, with pleasure brushing past him yet unable to grasp. He shall give pleasure, with none for himself.”

“And I – “ He cried out as Rosier’s fingers pressed against a place that made him burn, “I have desired what is not mine to have. I must watch while others attain their wants, be reminded that I can never have what is not mine even as I beg for mercy.”

He watched Sytry moved towards Kushiel, the angel’s sobs louder since the proclamation of his punishment, his body trembling with anticipation, as Sytry pulled him up by the hair, running his tongue down Kushiel’s neck slowly. Sarathiel felt himself arching up as Dantalion leaned down over him, taking one of his nubs in his mouth, rough tongue flicking over the tip. He sobbed as Rosier’s fingers tugged at the other one harsh and fast, and one more finger forced its way inside him.

“Such obedience to rules.” He heard Belias laugh, a sharp sound in concert to Kushiel’s scream as Sytry tilted a candle over the angel’s nipples – first one, then the other. Sarathiel watched him take a thread next, and holding it taut as he rubbed it over the wax covered nipples, removing the hardened wax bit by bit, while Kushiel keened, eyes pushing out in a plea of relief, held in his place, immobile under Belias’s spell.

“God must be pleased with you.” Rosier whispered in his ears.

“Don’t – don’t take his name.” Sarathiel cried out. “Not now. Don’t – don’t.”

“Oh?” Dantalion looked up, pulling away. Sarathiel sagged. “Do you think God is watching?”

“Don’t – “

“Do you hope he is watching?” Belias laughed again, pushing in two more marbles inside the captive angel. Kushiel’s body spasmed with silent sobs in response, his mouth held open between Sytry’s fingers while the pale demon rubbed his hardness over Kushiel’s tongue.

“Do you want him to watch while you punish yourselves?” Rosier murmured, hands holding Sarathiel’s legs open, as Dantalion leaned down to push his tongue inside Sarathiel, making him choke out a scream at the feeling of moist, warm muscle wriggling inside him.

“While you take the fallens’ seed inside yourselves, writhe under hell’s touch, beg for more…” Rosier bit down on Sarathiel’s neck, licking at the bite the next second – “Do you pray that God is bearing witness to your obedience?”

“Perhaps you hope –” Sarathiel felt a scream tear through him as Dantalion pulled away, words of power falling from his lips against the edges of his entrance.

“…that it could be him inside you, instead of a demon’s spell?”

Please. Please. Sarathiel thought he heard his own voice, though he did not know if he was making any sound at all. No more. I need more. Let it end now. Please.

“That spell”, Dantalion murmured, his crimson eyes alight, “will be as a butterfly’s wing’s against your gland of desire. It shall flutter and tremble, giving just enough that you shall itch to be filled, to be invaded, and yet will keep you away from finding relief.”

“This was your proclamation, angel.” Rosier smiled, his fangs sharp and hungry. “You will beg and never receive.”

Sarathiel felt himself being lowered. He looked up as Rosier loomed above him, the demon’s body glistening with sweat. A tremble wreaked through him as his mouth was held open, before Rosier guided his cock in.

The hardness laid over his tongue with a moist heaviness, a sharp tang of salty bitterness dripping down the back of his throat as Rosier started to move, slow and lazy, yet inescapable as he held Sarathiel’s head in place, the hard cock pushing in till the angel’s nose was pressed against dark pubic hair wet with sweat.

There was wetness on his face. Though whether it was tears and saliva, he did not know.

I need more punishment. He thought, almost hysterically, as his own penis strained against its shackles. He knew there was white drops leaking down fruitlessly.

I want more pain. He wanted to sob at the burning thought. I have sinned. I have sinned. I must be punished.

“Are you praying to God?” Dantalion’s whisper was a murmur of mockery, burning through him even as he felt the demon lift him up, an anticipation of shame pressing against his invaded throat for what he knew was coming next.

In the moment of sinking down on that hardness sheering through him, he thought that Dantalion was right

Father. Father. Bear witness to your child’s sin.

Father. Father. Punish me.

The heat moved within him with a merciful harshness, erasing away all thought. The hardness down his throat choked him, the warm flesh sliding down as he spilled more saliva from the friction, the veins pressing over his tongue, the bitter taste of seed pervading him till he wanted more of the demon’s sin.

And the hard flesh spearing him from behind burned against the spell on his pleasure, his naval and abdomen clenching continuously as he came dry, again and again – unable to find relief. Sarathiel felt a heaving sob being choked down back in his chest, his vision nearly blacking out as Rosier thrusted down, Dantalion shoved up, his cock pressing against Sarathiel’s prostate with a roughness that rivalled his fingers squeezing his caged penis. He felt his body jerking in an uncontrolled stutter as Dantalion pressed over his naval with his other hand, a single finger pressing in, and Rosier wrapped a hand around his throat, thumb pressed against his pulse point.

His body jerked one final time, bitter seed sliding down his throat, and an equally warm viscosity flooding his anal passage.

Sarathiel felt a rush of heat flowing through his muscles moments before going lax. His sight blacked out.

When he came to, he found himself half-submerged in warm water. Blinking against the exhaustion that seemed to drag at every feather, Sarathiel forced himself to open his eyes. He saw Kushiel, still unconscious, covered with proofs of the sin of desire just as Sarathiel knew he himself was. He was in the pool as well, being bathed.

“Lie back down.” Dantalion sounded exasperated. “Both of you need to rest.”

Sarathiel squirmed as the pair of arms washing him caressed over a particularly tender bruise, and felt himself warming as the owner of the arms seemed to realise it as well, touching him ever more gently.

“We should return.” He mumbled, trying to tug away as Rosier placed a gentle press of lips over his forehead, his eyelids growing heavier despite the words. Through a warm haziness he saw Belias curl around Kushiel, holding his head up carefully as Sytry washed the angel’s chest. Almost absently, he noticed that both him and Kushiel were missing their cockcages.

“Rest first.” He felt warm lips flutter against his ears and neck before Dantalion pressed his cheek to his own. “Heaven isn’t going anywhere.”

Or we could just stay. He thought, sinking down in blissful darkness, a soft laughter ringing in his ears.

”Or you could just stay.”

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September 1, 2020September 2, 2020

The First Sweet Cake

Contents

When Yu Nian stepped into the elevator car, there was already a person standing inside. The two of them collided with each other, each paused for two seconds, and then staggered away. Yu Nian turned around, standing silently, pressing the 42nd floor, but the other side’s stunning countenance was still floating in his eyes.

This evening, Qi Zhe, his senior who had stepped in the elevator, had his head down and did not notice the person standing in the corner. He squeezed his fingers anxiously, waiting for the elevator door to close, then lowered his voice and spoke, a little embarrassed.

“Brother Yu, this senior brother is only an intern at Xingyao Entertainment – it isn’t much to talk about. This time I showed your picture and the agent decided to see you. Afterwards, you must perform well. Depending on your looks, I can definitely stay…”

Compared with his nervousness, Yu Nian had a relaxed smile. In public, his voice was also low and he said sincerely, “Thank you brother for helping me win this opportunity. I will definitely work hard.”

Qi Zhe waved his hand quickly, almost stammering, “What thanks, I didn’t do anything… Besides, you have helped me several times before, I am the one who needs to thank you.” His fingertips trembled and his lips rose, trying to change the subject and found a new topic, “How much money do you have?”

Yu Nian knew the calculations in his heart, and let the topic go, telling the truth as it was, “Excluding the money for the white shirt just now, there are around two hundred left.”

After that, he himself couldn’t help but sigh, really too poor!

Qi Zhe was worried, “With that, isn’t only the takeaway can be afforded? If you can’t stay today,” he stopped, and carefully looked at the new white shirt, light-colored old jeans and black sneakers on Yu Nian, affirming. “It’s impossible not to stay, you look good, also, you have crushed our 20,000 male comrades in Ning University for four consecutive years, and never met an opponent!”

Amused, Yu Nian suddenly remembered the appearance of the other person in the elevator. Absent minded for a few seconds, he answered, “No matter whether I can stay or not, I will invite my senior to dinner.”

“Forget it, you, this brother invites you to eat, let’s just order meat and vegetables at the barbecue restaurant in front of the school.”

With a “Ding”, the elevator arrived, Qi Zhe straightened his collar four or five times, and whispered towards Yu Nian, “Here.”

The elevator doors closed behind them.

“This entire floor is Xingyao’s brokerage department. Brother is going to a meeting, so I can take you only till here. You go straight for a while and then turn right, look for the door with the sign ‘Meng Yuan’.”

Seeing Yu Nian smiling, Qi Zhe looked at him with a smile, exhaled, and laughed, “Your attitude of being undisturbed by everything is really as usual. I won’t say anything more. Do your best!”

True to its status of being one of the three major domestic entertainment companies, Xingyao Entertainment was rich in both wealth and taste. The meticulous interior decoration was pleasing to the eye. Yu Nian strode over the bright and reflective floor without looking around.

Although he only wore a simple white shirt and jeans, his face was good and his temperament was outstanding, attracting many people’s attention along the way.

When he arrived at the door of Meng Yuan’s office, Yu Nian arranged his cuffs, and then knocked on the door.

Soon, a voice came from inside, “Please come in.”

Putting his hand on the cold metal doorknob, Yu Nian opened the door quietly.

The office was spacious, simple and bright on all sides, the air-conditioning was at its maximum level – with every inhalation a cold air enters the nasal cavity, calming Yu Nian yet more. He also took a second to evaluate the green plants in the corner – rather neglected, the branches and leaves were almost withered.

Behind the messy desk sat a man in a suit and leather shoes. He was on the phone, frowning, his expression not very good, his voice irritable.

Yu Nian nodded at the other party, and stood still silently. It was not until the other party stared at him for a while, pointing towards the sofa beside him, that he stepped forward and sat down.

He could clearly feel that from the time he entered the door to the present, the opposite party’s eyes fell on him, not moving half an inch away. But this kind of gaze was not particularly discomfiting, rather like looking over a…commodity.

“I don’t really have anyone in my hand right now… OK, I will help you look … I know, how can the programs you deal with not be popular…” The call did not last long, and Meng Yuan put his phone on the table. He sat up straight, looked at Yu Nian judgingly, and asked abruptly, “Who took the picture?”

Reacting quickly, Yu Nian replied with a smile, “At that time, brother Qi asked for a photo in a hurry, so I asked my roommate to take one right then.”

Meng Yuan nodded his head and commented rudely, “The person who took the photo is very technically inadequate. Didn’t cover even three-tenth of your likeness.”

Yu Nian did not answer, just smiling, and the smile was clean, making the viewer feel good.

“Yu Nian… 21 years old?”

“Yes, birthday in the first half of the year.”

Meng Yuan stared at Yu Nian for a while. His hair was pure black, the foundation was good, and his skin was white and transparent. The bridge of the nose was straight, but not strong, the lip line was clear, the lips were thin, and the jaw line was almost perfect.

The most brilliant were a pair of eyes, the typical smiling eyes, while the eyes were big, the ends of the eyes were a little elongated, and the black eyes were as clear and bright as though rippling with water. There was also a light-colored mole under the tail of the right eye, and when the gaze moved, a slight extravagant decadence would flow out.

Judging from the perspective of his ten years in the industry, this face had a good bone structure, and would continue to look equally good for the next ten years. Even now it has not bloomed fully, and after two or three years, it would reach the peak of appearance.

This was all without any makeup.

Meng Yuan determined that not much was needed, just relying on this face to push one to the next level on camera, it was impossible not to be red.

Yu Nian sat quietly, letting Meng Yuan look, not at all uncomfortable, his expression was very natural. Perhaps because of his upbringing, even while sitting casually, his shoulders were not slumped, his back was not bent, he was tilted slightly sideways, a clear concentration on his conversation partner, which would make the other party feel valued and respected.

Meng Yuan nodded to himself, adding a plus ten to the score sheet in his heart, “Qi Zhe said you sing well?”

“Well, I’ve liked it since childhood.”

Between question and answer, Meng Yuan had already gone through the list of tuners in his mind, and said, “Then just sing a song?”

Yu Nian thought a little, “Then I will sing a school song for you?”

Meng Yuan was happy.

Since the artists he led became popular, he had terminated the contract and left. He had also met many newcomers one after another. There were pop, rock, folk songs, and this was the first time someone was preparing to sing a school song.

He picked up a pen and pinched between his fingers, and tapped the tip of the pen on the table with interest, “Sure, it’s mainly to listen to your timbre.” As for the accuracy of singing, he was not expecting much.

While singing, Yu Nian could never remember the lyrics, but on this occasion, he could not hum over the forgotten parts like usual. Taking out the phone from his pocket, he calmly searched for the lyrics without accompaniment. Then, adjusting his breathing, he tapped a beat himself, and after two beats, started singing directly.

With a soft “pop”, the pen in Meng Yuan’s hand fell off.

Yu Nian was unaware, his eyes fixed on the lyrics on the phone screen, and he did not notice Meng Yuan’s sudden unstable look, until he heard the other party saying “stop”.

Pausing, he raised his head and looked askance.

Meng Yuan took a deep breath, “Continue.”

Yu Nian picked up at the last note where he had just stopped, singing without any hindrance. His voice was clean and clear, like a gurgling stream in the open mountains and forests, with a full and melodious tone left behind at every note, and pronunciation of each word was just right.

After singing a verse, Meng Yuan’s eyes were filled with excitement, “Have you studied professionally before?”

Yu Nian’s breathing was unhurried as before, and curving his eyes, he replied, “I haven’t studied, my university major was in history. But the elders in the family like to sing, I hummed a few words along when I was young.

What kind of prodigal child was this – this was the level of “humming a few words”?

Meng Yuan quickly tapped his fingers on the desktop, then spoke, returning to a steady tone, “It was Qi Zhe who showed me your picture previously, and now you are willing to come here yourself. May I understand that you are willing to join this circle? Or?”

Yu Nian, his voice became more formal, “Yes.”

“That’s good.” Meng Yuan relaxed his strained back, leaning on the back of the chair, and pulling down the armrest, his tone was two points relaxed, “You, I must carry by myself, and you will not be buried. Now the problem is, I want to know, why do you enter the entertainment industry? Ideals and goals, we should be clear about all of it.”

The lips tightened for a moment, before smiling again soon, and Yu Nian said firmly, “I need to make money. A lot of money.”

Meng Yuan was not very surprised. People in this circle always have a goal of profit. He had no opinions. “We are cooperating, and the money you earn will definitely not be little. But let me say something directly. I will not do things like matchmaking and pimping. If you have this requirement, I can recommend others to you. .”

Yu Nian shook his head, his soft hair shaking with his movements, and his eyes were bright with a little smile, “Don’t worry, I just want to work hard and make money.”

Meng Yuan breathed a sigh of relief. He never expected the artists in his hand would be so obedient. Everyone was human and not a puppet. But at least they had to be able to communicate clearly and have a bottom line, not getting mixed up in any mess before they became popular.

Meng Yuan’s tone was twice more gentle, “Alright, okay, then we can be considered as reaching a consensus.” He opened the first drawer at his hand and handed over the documents himself, “This is Xingyao’s B-level contract. You are a pure newcomer, level B is the best I have the authority to offer. After signing this for five years, the level can be considered again. If you don’t feel confident, you can take it back and find someone to look at it carefully before making a decision.”

Yu Nian took the contract with both hands, “Don’t need to trouble so much” He looked over the around ten-page contract carefully, drew a black signature pen from the pen holder, and signed his name neatly.

“The characters are beautifully written!” Meng Yuan’s tone got more familiar as the signature was done. He accepted the contract back and signed his own name in a good mood.

“I’m saying it now, if you are not popular, the law of heaven will not tolerate it!”

“Thank you.” Yu Nian closed the pen cover and put the signature pen back into the pen holder.

After Yu Nian was gone, Meng Yuan could not maintain his reserved image anymore, throwing the pen in his hand, he picked up the phone, calling back.

“The program you said earlier, yes, the singing competition…” Meng Yuan raised his eyebrows and smiled proudly, “Yes, I am reserving the position, laoji has someone in his hands now !”

The author has something to say:

At the beginning, the gong and shou looked at each other, and Xie You, who is in the elevator with Nian Nian :

“I also want to be named!”

Thank you for reading. I am also writing an original fiction Yra in this site – do take a look if you are interested in futeristic worlds, reborn protagonists and the entertainment circle.

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Translator’s Note

Xingyao – Starlight. Should I keep the transliteration or change the company name to english?

Contents

September 1, 2020September 3, 2020

I Heard That I Am Poor [Entertainment Circle]

Status: Ongoing
Original Text: 听说我很穷[娱乐圈]
Original Author: 苏景闲 
NovelUpdates Page: IHTIAP
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Summary

Cold tyrant lord President Xie You has a one ton heavy weibo focus on Yu Nian, the new singer. Yu Nian participated in a singing variety show and became popular overnight, and his singing voice was called the sound of nature.

Xie You: Oh, it must be a tuner, how could it be so good!

Yu Nian’s GIF with a smile while singing swept the whole internet and he was praised for his looks.

Xie You: Oh, must have been a plastic surgery, how could it be so beautiful!

A few months later, President Xie, the black fan leader, updated his Weibo: Hello everyone, we are together @YuNian

Sunspots & Netizens: Joking with us?

Yu Nian was invited to be a guest on a treasure appraisal program. Yu Nian only glanced at it and concluded that an ancient painting worth 70 million yuan was fake.

After the show was broadcast, many netizens started the group mocking mode. They were addicted to mocking Yu Nian crazily, looking forward to slapping him in the face.

When Xie You knew: “No, no, no, NianNian listen to me, this time it really wasn’t the navy I bought!”

Soon after, Yu Nian’s life experience was picked up…

After all the netizens had fallen silent, they entered the collapse mode: “Painting is indeed false, because the authentic one has been in his house for three hundred years!”

“The point is, this is the same person who can not afford to takeout, why are you so good? Been trained, trained, trained – do we still have a chance to call you laoji?”

[ I am also writing an original fiction Yra in this site – do take a look if you are interested in futeristic worlds, reborn protagonists and the entertainment circle. ]

Chapters

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10

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September 1, 2020September 2, 2020

Beginnings

Content

Ruha’s room was on the third floor. The escalator took him down in a spiralling column framed by glass. The entire building was ten floors, with seven bedrooms in each, apart from the ground floor which contained the lounge, playroom, helpdesk, kitchen and dining hall, storeroom, healing hall – Ruha’s brain brought forth all the data quite readily. He also remembered that at this time Lephis was likely to be at the help desk.

Stepping down from the escalator, Ruha first went towards the lounge. It was a large space, opening out to a stretch of green at the front of the building. The entire left wall was a screen with various pieces of words and pictures flashing on it.

This was the job board. This world, as Ruha had realised during the memory overload, was far kinder than his world had been. Not only were basic needs like food, clothing and shelter provided for by the governing system, and the education till accessing adulthood being free and compulsory to all – but the ruling system also provided a constant flow of opportunities for jobs and projects for those like himself, that is, homeless and dependant on public services and funds. This job board carried a number of work adverts – with new ones being sent every day. Every organisation of any strata or field that hired workers, were legally required to send hiring adverts of a certain percentage of all their projects to public shelters.

Ruha remembered Lephis helping him with taking jobs from here – the host body had only ever taken art related projects, and Ruha could also remember memories of running a freelance art business. In fact, from the memories, Ruha felt that it was not because of finances but rather due to incapability of selfcare that Ruha stayed here – though of course, these were all his assumptions. Ruha’s brain had no memories regarding why or how the original host came to be here. It was almost like the life of the original person began from this place and everything before was a complete blank.

At present he had come here because there was a memory in him showing some of the adverts on this board were often for small roles in movies.

In his own life, Ruha had stood at the top of glamour world for the last eleven years of his life. He had been the globally acclaimed movie emperor for those ten years, as well as claiming top awards from theatrical circles for the first three years of that decade. He had entered the industry at thirteen, as a part time job to support the orphanage he grew up in, at sixteen he debuted his first major role in a stage production of King Lear, when both the actor and his understudy playing Lear suddenly cancelled for health reasons and he was the only one available – after his depiction of the old king that had the audience speechless and coming back for multiple viewing when his age was revealed in a review next day, Ruha had not had to look back any more. Starting from next year, he had won and kept a continuous claim on every top awards for lead roles that the movies entered in, along with a number of awards for supporting roles and direction, though he had far less script offers for supporting roles, and directing was something he had taken up only for two years, before his health declined and he had to choose between acting and directing. At that time he needed the fame and money related to acting too much too allow himself continuing to experiment in directing.

Ruha pushed the memories away. As discomfiting it was to have his brain return a load of data every time he thought of anything, he would take it over remembering his past life, particularly the time towards the end.

As expected, the board had five adverts that could fit his skillset – two were related to modelling, and three were audition opportunities for small roles in movies. None of them had much description to it, explaining that he had to sign up to get the script – Ruha decided to audition for all three of the roles. The tentative start dates for the movies were staggered enough that Ruha though his time should not collide at all – not to mention, these were very small extras and should be finished in a day.

Ruha raised his left wrist, then following the image he had seen in his memory, swiped over the part of the silver bracelet pressing on his pulse with his other forefinger. A screen appeared above the device with a few option. Ruha ignored those icons and raised his wrist towards the job board. Next moment a white area with blinking cursor and a writing pad appeared on the job board just before him. Ruha entered the serial numbers of the three adverts he had selected and swiped his wrist over it again.

At this moment he was particularly glad to have the memories of the original host. Otherwise he would have become an illiterate.

The three selected adverts appeared again, this time in seclusion. Ruha waved his wrist before them, waiting for the adverts to flash in confirmation of his signing up.

The device on his wrist was SPIRIT. Acronym for Smart Personal Identity & Rationally Intelligent Technology, this device could have multiple functions based on price range, but the most basic and primary function was to be an identity proof of its owner, and everyone was expected to carry one – the lowest version was available for free from any municipality, which is what Ruha had. From Ruha’s memory, his SPIRIT, which Lephis had given him, seemed to be kind of a smartphone.

Stepping back, Ruha turned around, coming to a sudden pause before a pair of irisless black eyes staring at him.

Ah.

Lephis sported a bipedal form, as Ruha’s memories had told him. However, the similarity to the humanoid shape ended there – the cyborg was of genus Phyn, and Ruha had to force his face to remain placid as his brain continued vomiting more data – Lephis was completely hairless, with small incisions spread all over his exposed body parts that Ruha knew could function similar to electronic ports. He also sported three long tails, with barbed ending that rattled on the floor, elongated ears – three on each side of the head – and long nails, no, claws, feline claws on all his fingers and toes.

He had eight toes. Ruha counted quickly. Four on each foot. And six fingers on each hand – there were four arms, the shoulder area broader than humans to accommodate the extra limbs.

“… feel alright? Ruha?”

And the alien with multiple limbs is talking to me.

No. I am the actual alien right now.

“Lephis.” Ruha smiled slightly, wincing inside as Lephis seemed to still even further at the response.

“I wanted to try acting.” Ruha said. Lephis would have to get used to his new behaviour anyway. “I signed up already.”

“I finished bathing too.” He continued after a pause. “But I forgot to dry myself properly and there is a puddle of water in my room. I could not find the mop.”

“And I couldn’t figure out how to tie my hair.”

There. I still have things that I can not do by myself.

Compared to seeing a child who was completely self-sufficient all of a sudden, any guardian would feel much more comfortable if that said child is still lacking in certain areas, needing guidance. And Ruha did need guidance for a variety of matter, considering his missing memories about his own preferences and feelings – so keeping Lephis assured of his change being naturally staggered and relative was necessary.

Lephis still seemed confused, as much confusion as his expressionless face could convey, but his tails started to move by themselves, as opposed to the previous stillness.

“I will clean your room later. All mops are in storeroom.” The cyborg’s voice was low, with a strange innate gentleness. Ruha understood the words because of his memories, but the unfamiliarity remained, the end of each words seeming to fall on the start of next sound like a spring breaking into waves.

“Keep your hair open, it still needs to dry.”

Ruha followed obediently as Lephis guided him to a fluffy cushion in the sitting area, himself sitting on the couch behind Ruha. He felt the gauze wrapped around his hair being taken off, as several clawed fingers started to caress through the tresses.

Ruha had to fight not to fall asleep as the claws gently scratched over his scalp. The prior exhaustion from assimilating his memories was still there, and with Lephis massaging his head, brushing, he is brushing your unnecessarily long hair, staying awake was getting more difficult with each second.

“When are the auditions?”

Ruha blinked at the questioning, gulping back an yawn. Shuffling through his SPIRIT, he wondered absently if Lephis had noticed him falling asleep and asked the question to keep him awake.

Children should not fall asleep at random, or they could have problem sleeping in bedtime.

“Oh.” Ruha blinked. “One of the auditions is… today, I think? In about… four hours – is this the script…”

Mumbling to himself, he opened the file. It was indeed the script, but…

“Lephis.” Ruha said, still staring at the hovering screen in front of his eyes, “What is the usual length for movies?”

“It varies.” The answer came after a small pause. “The realtime ones, the roleplaying ones, and some others – those can stretch for months and years, often into centuries too.”

What?

“Then there are those of only half an hour to an hour. Your script should tell the time, see the first page.”

“Yes.” Ruha said, wondering what century long movies were like. “It says six hour tentative time limit.”

Lephis hummed. It sounded like a cat’s purr. “That’s not very long.” He said. “The shooting should not be too long.”

What is considered ‘long’ here, exactly?

“I am a small extra, anyway.” Ruha said. “The script says my role estimates to around fifteen to twenty minutes at most.”

“Beginnings are usually small.” Ruha felt a palm patting his now brushed, and dried, well, less wet than before, hair. “Once everyone sees your acting, bigger roles will start coming to you.”

Ruha had to keep himself from laughing. His cyborg carer was really… “I could be a very bad actor.” He teased softly. “May be I won’t even get through the audition.”

“That’s impossible.” Lephis sounded more certain than Ruha had ever heard even his staunchest fans from previous life being regarding his acting abilities. “Anything you do, you are amazing in it.”

Either the original host was really a genius. Ruha thought, feeling a slight burn in his ears and eyes at this unquestioning faith. Or Lephis is one of those parents. The ones who are wrapped around their children’s littlest toe.

Somehow, Ruha thought the second possibility was likelier.

“Well”. He coughed softly. “I will do my best. Erm, this address for the audition, do you know –”

“I will take you there – put on this scarf.” Lephis said, wrapping an embroidered piece of grey-blue clothing that he was wearing himself around Ruha’s neck loosely, pausing next moment like he was unsure of Ruha’s response. “It’s not very far from here, but you haven’t travelled by yourself before, and I –”

“Lephis.” Ruha turned around, cutting the cyborg off mid-stutter. “I really don’t know how to travel by myself.”

He paused for a moment, the room blurring out of focus for a sharp, strangled breath.

Ruha wanted to tell this person, this alien whom he had known for mere minutes, everything.

It would be easy. He thought, feeling too disoriented and yet too rooted in his skin, new skin, stolen skin, to know what he truly wanted at the moment.

One word, and his fate would not have to be in his control.

He could truly let go.

Perhaps he wanted to go back to the state of being dead. To that moment when despite the very literal heart wrenching pain, he had known, with a keen sense of relief that was perhaps companion to all and any endings, that he was not, finally, the one in control, the one responsible, for himself.

Then the room came back in focus, with all its unfamiliarity, and Ruha let out an imperceptible sigh.

“Well”, he turned around with a practised smile, tugging absently at the soft, woven, unfamiliar, fabric wrapped around his throat, not quite meeting Lephis’s eye. “Should we set out now?”

Letting go would be easy, indeed. Yet, being a coward was still easier.

And perhaps, Ruha had to admit, as he followed Lephis out of the lounge, and down to another escalator out in the green stretch, for all the relief death had brought him, it had only made his greed for life higher.

Content

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September 1, 2020

Epilogue

Content

Ruha remembered dying.

It is said that some could see a white light at death, that death felt much like going to sleep, or like meeting an old friend or a lover – Ruha remembered death as a tightening noose slowly choking his sight, taste, smell, the darkening claws piercing through his heart in agonizing sloth, gobbling up his memories bit by bit.

Looking back, not that he was capable of looking back at this moment, not with how his head seemed to be splitting away at the seams – Ruha would have preferred his memories stayed in death’s stomach.

At least that way his brain would be better able to handle these new memories. The human mind was really not suitable for handling more than one lifetime’s worth of memories – this seemed true for a human in intergalactic era as well.

No, multiverse. This was an interverse era – one of the many new terms that Ruha was learning, courtesy to migraine inducing extra memories. Galaxies were one of the smaller celestial bodies at the present time – and Ruha wished, with the minute bit of brain he could actually control to think independently at all, that either the onslaught of these huge amount of information would stop battering him so that he could breathe or kill him back to a non-sentient state already.

His head did not agree. Ruha’s form was curled up in a foetal position, his fingers clawing at his forehead time to time, and grasping at the floor the rest of the time. The room, mostly filled with canvasses in various degree of completion and a bed shoved to a corner, was silent of all but its sole occupant’s gasping sobs and whimpers, deceivingly calm with gentle blue walls and stretches of natural daylight filtering in through a floor to ceiling glass window that kept all sound from leaking out.

The curled up shape on the floor stayed in that position for well over an hour. When the young man pushed himself up to a seating position, leaning against the wall exhaustedly, his entire body was wet with sweat, dark hair sticking to his forehead and neck before cascading down to the floor. He leaned his head back, baring a pale throat that was still heaving for air, and wiped at his eyes and cheeks with a trembling hand.

Ruha opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. It was a darker blue than the walls, leaning faintly to grey.

Last night he died.

Heart attack, probably. He always did have heart issues.

It was last night to him. At present, even with the waves of memories from his new body, he could not calculate how far back his time was.

His new body. Yes. He was in another person’s body now.

Alive.

And with this person’s memories. Only the memories seemed more like… like I am living in an encyclopaedia. Of multiple related and unrelated and semi-related topics and area. That knows neither indexing, nor cataloguing.

And of them very little was related to the person himself, that is, to the person Ruha was now. What little there was – was mostly like a filmstrip being played, Ruha could barely feel any involvement, or emotions in those memories. Only the memories related to painting seemed to have a first person point of view, though even there, emotions were completely absent.

In fact, that was the common characteristic in all the memories. No emotions. There was a part in Ruha that had been guilty, still was, though he knew he could not do much if anything at all to remedy it, at the knowledge that he had taken over someone else’s life, in a very literal sense that he would never have thought was possible at all if not for his present reality. The lack of emotion in the memories of his… host body? he really didn’t want to be a parasite – was relieving to a certain extent. While it was very possible that the lack of emotion was a result of the absence of the original soul, Ruha could tell, instinctively, perhaps, that there was something specifically unusual about the state of the original person – of course, his coming in this body specifically was enough proof of that – and the idea was calming in a way, that this person might have been related to him in a way, that everything, as impossible as it felt, had happened because of some larger, perhaps cosmological reason. Ruha could swallow coming to future, appearing in a body that felt a lot like his and yet not his, living after dying and all of the related and subsequent impossible things, thanks to his habit of reading a variety of speculative fictions, but he drew the line at considering conspiracy theories of mad scientists and what nots behind these matters. He would rather believe in godly intervention and his atheism could go eat itself, he just needed to remember that this body was pretty much an empty shell and that he was definitely not a murderer. Or a soul murderer. Were those a thing now, in this future of who knew how many eons? Would he have to go on run from cosmic police?

“He was a like a living doll. I didn’t even know what happened. It’s not my fault.”

Perhaps in a world of impossibilities if he said something enough it would be true. Ruha’s tongue felt dry and bitter at his attempt of speech. His memories, that he have borne hours of severe migraine for to assimilate, at least partially, only partially, with his pre-existing memories, told him that there was a washroom attached to this room.

It was as large as in his head. Ruha supported himself against the stone table containing the basin and faucet, his legs still trembling slightly from exhaustion, though he could breathe now. He could also feel the body was completely healthy – albeit that might have been his assumptions – but somehow it was vastly different from his own body where he could feel his weak heart and every related pains.

The stone was not marble, though it was white with a grey undertone to it, looking strikingly like marble. His head returned to him that the stone was called taynix, and was a common material for use in toilets and washrooms due to being glossy and easy to clean. This stone also took to being pigmented from a variety of media, thus allowing for a large range of customizations.

Perhaps it would have given him more data – Ruha still had not got the hang of stopping his brain from throwing out every piece of memories about anything he registered – as it was, he looked up at the mirror covering the entire wall above the basin and his head stopped thinking about taynix facts.

The youth in the mirror had milky skin, that had gone past being fair and to an unhealthy pallor that was only heightened by the sweat glistening on it. Ruha bent down at the sight, splashing water on himself several times, before drinking in large gulps.

When he straightened back up, the image looked less like a ghost. His initial feeling had been right – Ruha’s past face have been somewhat similar to it, not like twins, but close enough that they would have been considered as blood relatives. He was obviously younger now than he had been at death – Ruha had died at twenty nine. The boy in the mirror looked barely twenty – in fact Ruha only considered this body as an adult because his memories had told him of the present custom of gaining adulthood, and because this body was, quite obviously, biologically adult. Though, he could not find any memory relating to his actual age in terms of years.

He sighed and pushed the wet strands of hair back from his forehead. Ruha now had long hair, till around his knees. It was darker too, a solid black. His eyes were the same in shape, with elongated corners and double eyelids framed with long lashes. But his iris… Ruha was faintly speechless as he stared at his own reflection.

He had never heard of silver eyes outside of anime.

His irises were a startling silver, almost glowing. The pupil was black, with a tiny silver dot in the middle.

Ruha tried to remember if he was still human. His brain returned a cheerful silence at his query.

He checked his ears. It looked like human ears. Fingers and toes – five in each limb. No tails, no wings, no tentacles, no… anything nonhuman.

Ruha had nothing against being nonhuman. He just wanted to know his own body – a lifetime of a diseased body meant a heritage of a certain amount of paranoia about being aware of his own physic at every moment.

At any rate, he was whatever he was. Ruha sighed and splashed some more water on his face, before deciding to turn towards the large bathing chamber. The wash room had transparent wall separating the bath area – there was no lavatory because as Ruha’s memories had reminded him at his noticing this lack – the present era was one where any and all kinds of bodies, on ingestion of any material, transformed it into energy particles before absorbing it – the impurities too, are turned into energy particles and are ejected from the body automatically, and the surrounding atmosphere has a natural attribute of purifying all such impurities. In fact bathing too, was more of a pleasure than necessity.

It’s a wonder that people has a digestive tract at all. Ruha supposed that was because the ingestion of energy was still done orally for a lot of species, not to mention eating was a pleasure too.

Focus on pleasure seemed a basic characteristic in all his memories. Ruha groaned softly as all the faucets in the bathing chambers came alive, water jetting out at him from every direction. The settings, he remembered, was already set. Ruha could, and would, he noted to himself, play with the setting later – but for now this was quite heavenly for him, another proof of his earlier hypothesis, even this host of his, who he thought to be a living doll, was apparently quite decadent in at least his bathing preference.

It made sense, he figured, padding over to the pool area and lying down in the water. It was just deep enough that in a half lying position the water would be till his throat. The headrest seemed to be made from a softer material that sank comfortably as he leaned back. The faucets here too were perfectly aligned to his position – the jets hitting him with a constant pressure from all directions, even underwater. Ruha squirmed softly, deciding to keep his legs closed and drawn up as some of the jets hit certain body parts that he had always tried to ignore, his heart condition requiring complete absence of any stimulant to physical excitement being one of the main reasons. While this new body obviously did not have any such regulation to maintain, Ruha did not have any emotional energy nor placidity to think of exploring that particular avenue at the moment.

A futuristic world that considered galaxies to be smaller celestial bodies would be advanced enough for its residents to be able to focus on pleasure as the primary goal of existence – particularly when said residences were pretty much immortals, as Ruha received from his memories, all bodies being indestructible by time. Other factors might have harmful effects, even fatal, but at least time had no effect on any being in this universe, er… these verses.

As fantastic as it sounded, with his present reality of dying and then waking up in this body, Ruha was quite willing and ready to accept all encyclopaedic details that his brain threw at him at face value. Living doll or not, the original host of this memories had lived in this world far longer than him.

He spent a long time in the water, washing himself carefully, trying to get familiar with the feel of this body. In fact, it was more about getting familiar with this body in his own speed – rather discomfortingly, the skin and limbs felt too much like his own, he would forget that his body was different now, before trying to move a certain way and suddenly realising that the body was not the one he had lived in all his life.

Now, this is the body I will carry, this is the body that is me. Ruha stood up from the water, pushing away the strangeness of the thought of living forever from his mind. Naked for all but a bracelet on his left wrist, he padded out of the bathing chamber, then the wash room and to the closet in his bedroom. He had thrown the sweat soaked clothes to the machine in the bathroom, that he recognised as a washer. From his memories, Ruha knew that there was a person who took care of these daily matters for him, but his caretaker would have to get used to the fact that Ruha was capable of taking care of his personal needs and preferred to do so. Not that he was concerned that his caretaker, Lephis, he remembered, would question it – even in the emotionless memories it was very obvious how much Lephis cared about Ruha living as comfortably as possible, considering this was a public shelter, and was constantly worried that Ruha could not function by himself.

At least the name was same in both lives. His memory told him that his name was Ruhnir here, though there was no memory of anyone using that name nor could he remember where he got that name from – Lephis and others in the shelter seemed to call him Ruha, and that was the name that was attached to his SPIRIT. He pulled out a long shirt, light violet, and black slacks, similar to what he had been wearing earlier, only in different colours, and touched the materials thoughtfully. Cotton, according to his brain, but this was far softer, almost cool to his skin, than he remembered cotton to be. The trees evolved, he supposed, wondering absently if the species, of anything, from his earth had remained at all. He winced moments after he had put his clothes on, sighing at his own absent mindedness. Having forgotten to wipe himself dry, now the clothes were wet at sticking to his skin, not to mention his hair, which had pretty much drenched his shirt, dripping a pool over the floor.

Ruha blamed his host body. There was not a single memory of wiping himself dry. Likely this living doll had worn wet clothes till they dried by themselves every day.

He didn’t bother changing his clothes – the room was comfortably warm, they would dry soon enough. But his hair could not be left like this. Looking in his closet, Ruha could not see anything that seemed like a towel, so he took a long vail like cloth, a blue gauze that he would have expected to see around the arms of some upper class woman in an evening party, and certainly not in a man’s closet. At the moment though, he did not feel like considering the issue of his sexual identity based on clothing choice, not least because his memories were absent of any particular data regarding any preference at all, whether for dressing preference or for sex partners.

Ruha rung his hair dry, then decided to tie it up wrapped within the gauze on his head. Looking at the pooling water on the ground, he stayed silent for a long moment before turning to the door resolutely.

It was not like he knew where the cleaning mop was!

Content

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September 1, 2020September 2, 2020

Yra

In the year of 2377 the god of silver screen passes away in his sleep, at only twenty nine. In a world trillions of eons away, Ruha wakes up in a body that is uncannily like his own. In this life of unimaginable wonders, in this world that is more infinite than ever, on the innumerable paths and choices that are unshackled as he had never dared to hope for – Ruha is alive once more, stepping forward to that summit where only legends can stand.

But within these wonders seems to lark dark tendrils of conspiracies that are tied to Ruha himself, to an identity hidden from his own memories. As the lights brighten over him once more, the shadows stretches out ever longer, and the young god awakens yet again, standing in his true mythos.

And there is that man. The one who is the axis around which Ruha is rotating. The one who speaks to his heart, merges in his soul – in a seamless entirety of chaotic harmony.

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