"Name?"
"Huai Shi."
"Age?"
"Seventeen."
"Seventeen?"
The man conducting the audition raised an eyebrow and looked at the teenager in front of the desk. The slender boy, carrying a heavy cello case, quickly flashed an ingratiating smile.
He was dressed in slightly worn formal attire. His complexion was pale, as if he had not seen the sun for a long time, and his hair was somewhat disheveled. Yet, his pitch-black eyes shone as if lit by candlelight, bright and somewhat frightening.
"Gothic, huh? That's unusual. A lot of people are into that these days..."
The man in charge of the audition muttered incomprehensibly. He scrutinized the boy, his tone growing serious. "Listen, Little Huai, you need to understand that our club is all about elitism; not just any Tom, Dick, or Harry can come here."
"Elitism, elitism! I get it!"
Huai Shi straightened up, nodding vigorously, completely obsequious. "Old Yang briefed me before I came. Your standards are strict. Rest assured, I'm experienced!"
With that, he even squeezed out a sycophantic smile.
The standards might be strict, but they paid well too!
In these times of economic depression, massive layoffs were happening at Xinhai. For a poor student to find a part-time job playing the cello was incredibly difficult—Huai Shi was nearly destitute. When the broker Old Yang told him he had found a lucrative gig, he was overjoyed.
If this opportunity slipped through his fingers, it would be nothing short of disastrous!
Before coming over, Old Yang had said that this was a members-only club catering to the wealthy. Even the waiters who carried trays could earn tips amounting to thousands. Playing the cello here, how could he not make money?
Seemingly surprised by his earnestness, the interviewer paused briefly, then gave a slight nod. "Alright, your application says you play the cello. Perform something, but don't make it too mediocre."
"You can count on me!"
Huai Shi sat down with complete confidence, opened his cello case, cradled the cello, picked up the bow, thought for a moment, and the cello's uniquely rich melody began to flow from its strings.
He might have been scared of other things, but never the cello. He had been winning awards since he was a child; if only he could afford a famous teacher, he might have already made a name for himself in international competitions.
This piece, Sea C, which he had practiced countless times, could not have been faulted even by professional judges. Once he began playing, his mood instantly calmed down. His performance was even better than usual; the profound melancholy within the lively notes was almost on the verge of breaking out.
But just after a few minutes, the interviewer waved his hand with a hint of weariness. "Alright, that's enough."
"Huh?"
Huai Shi looked up in confusion, not knowing what he had done wrong, and hastily rummaged through his backpack. "I also have professional certificates, King's Level Eight, and if that's not enough, next month I'm going to take the initial professional exam..."
"Enough, no need for all that fancy stuff."
The interviewer shook his head impatiently. "Here we don't care about diplomas; it's enough if you can play decently and have a gimmick. What matters is your real skill..."
As he spoke, he bent down to pull several items from a drawer and placed them on the desk in a row, pointing. "Which one can you do?"
"What?"
Huai Shi was flabbergasted, looking at the things on the desk in total confusion.
"This... what kind of instruments are these?"
"Hey, do you even understand? Didn't you say you were experienced in the industry?"
The interviewer pointed at the items on the table with a look of displeasure and introduced them, "Rich lady happy ball, rich lady happy fire… Which one can you do?"
"..."
Huai Shi pondered for a long time, then looking at the cello in his arms, he asked with a glimmer of hope, "Rich lady happy… cello?"
So, boss, does having a golden finger count for anything?
"So, you mean to tell me you can't do anything at all?"
The interviewer was furious, pointing at his nose and scolding, "Do you know how busy I am? You come here to be a Cowherd and you can't do anything? I had to push back several appointments for this interview. Aren't you just wasting my time?"
"… Isn't this place hiring musicians for a restaurant?"
It was only now that Huai Shi, with a dumbstruck face, realized: it seemed he had been screwed over by that stupid agency again… Eh? Why does it feel like this isn't the first time?
"Wait a minute!"
He raised his hand solemnly. "Sir, I sell art, not my body!"
BANG!
The door to the office closed behind him.
Thrown out of the office, Huai Shi sat in a chair in the corridor, scared out of his wits. He felt like he was only one step away from losing his innocence for good. Yet, after taking one look at the balance of his bank account, he couldn't help but feel eager to take that step…
I've been selling my art for so many years, what's selling my body in comparison?
Anyway, it's all the same with the lights off, in the end… As long as the pay is good, it seems not unacceptable.
As he was stroking his chin in deep thought, the array of 'rich lady happy series products' he had heard about earlier flashed through his mind. It caused him to shudder through his entire body.
In this moment, Huai Shi deeply realized: happiness in this world is conserved.
Forget it, just forget it…
With tears in his eyes, he rejected the temptation of money and walked out of the club, glancing back with every step. Observing the golden-layered stone lion at the entrance, he couldn't help but think about going back inside.