Specialty. During the whole duration of the physical examination, Qi Cong was thinking about this problem.
Qi Yin attached great importance to the cultivation of children’s interests and hobbies. There were many things Qi Cong had learned, including calligraphy, piano, drums, roller skating, taekwondo, sports dances, painting, origami, paper cutting, pottery, basketball, football, table tennis . . . He only dabbled in most of these things, and when he found that he didn’t like them, he quit.
Qi Yin was very open-minded in this respect, and she never forced Qi Cong to learn everything. She only required him to “make a choice after trying”. When making a choice, he should think carefully and not go back on his promise but stick to it.
Qi Cong followed this requirement, and among those skills and arts, he chose calligraphy, piano, and taekwondo to stick to. At that time, Qi Yin asked him very seriously why he had chosen those things, and he also answered very seriously. Calligraphy was because he liked it, piano because he wanted to play it for his mother after learning it, and taekwondo to exercise and protect his mother in the future. But it seemed that, in the past three years, his three hobbies, which he had persisted on for many years, had been abandoned.
Qi Cong gathered his thoughts and moved his shoulders back and forth. He found that his muscles were very stiff, and he had been neglecting exercise for a very long time. Then he moved his fingers, and when he opened them, he felt slight stiffness. With such hands, it might be impossible to press the keys accurately and produce a clear sound.
He conveniently picked up a test result sheet from the ground that someone had thrown away and folded it skillfully into a paper crane while he continued thinking. He needed to pick up the piano as soon as possible. But only relying on his amateurish piano skills, it should be impossible to move Zhao Zhenxun. Nowadays, there were too many children who were good at playing instruments, and he had only practiced in his spare time. After going to university, he got addicted to his major and hadn’t touched the piano for a long time. Compared to those hard-working trainees, he could be said to be uncompetitive.
Thinking of his major in university, Qi Cong’s origami was quickly unfolded and turned back into a sheet of paper. He took the crane apart and began folding again.
The main competition was mainly about singing and dancing. In regards to dancing, he had only learned some sport dances steps in junior high, but he hadn’t learned much, and now, he had already forgotten it. As for the singing, except for music class, where he participated in the chorus and during piano lessons, he almost never sang in public, so he did not know what his singing level was either and whether he could sing or not.
The bottom line was, even if he was lucky enough to be sent to the draft, he’d probably be eliminated in the first round. When the bench was formed, Qi Cong stopped, looked down at it, unfolded it slowly, and began folding it into a rose.
He had to be prepared in advance for the possibility not to be able to participate in the draft or to fail in the draft. Once again, he thought of his major in university—drama, film and television literature. In popular terms, it was screenwriting.
Screenwriting was a career related to the entertainment circle. It was a career where you could easily be ignored, that was hard to get ahead with, and required contacts and qualifications. When choosing a major back then, Qi Cong was a rich second generation. He was a winner in life who had his parents’ support and encouragement, didn’t need to consider practical problems, and could choose a career based on his hobbies. At that time, Qi Cong was fond of watching movies and reading books and felt that the process of letting a story take shape was truly wonderful. So among many literature-related majors, he chose to major in screenwriting, which was not pure research but could also make money in society, required creativity, and had infinite possibilities, seemingly both close to his dreams and being realistic.
At that time, Qi Cong also considered the possibility of the Qi family’s decline. Back then, he thought that, even if the Qi family declined, he would be able to rely on his major to let his parents live a good life. After entering university, he quickly discovered his naivety. The screenwriting major was not like others where, after you got a degree, you would surely find a job in the future and be able to freely create the stories you wanted to create. This was a job with many restrictions and traps, consumed one’s enthusiasm and energy, and was also difficult to make a living with or provide a stable income in a short period of time. If he had known that, he would have—
“Qi Cong! Where is Qi Cong? Come and get your results.”
Qi Cong returned to the present abruptly, but he didn’t control his strength well. Half of the paper rose was torn by him. He answered the nurse’s call first and then looked down at his palm. Because it had been folded twice before, the surface of the paper rose was full of creases and missing a torn piece. It looked very old and dirty. It didn’t look good at all.
It was like Qi Cong’s life now.
Qi Cong paused, gently touched the tips of the rose petals, put it into his backpack, and went to the doctor’s office.
. . .
After the physical examination, Qi Cong took the subway home. The usual surroundings reminded him of the conversation between the two girls and the blurred picture. He took out his mobile phone, opened the browser, and typed “Gu Xun”.
There was never lack of chatter in the subway car. He didn’t know where the exclamation came from, but it reached Qi Cong’s ears.
“《Chivalrous bones》 is so beautiful! That Water without a Trace is a divine screenwriter!”
These too familiar names made Qi Cong’s fingers that were about to press the search button pause. He looked for the speaker but only saw the back of a black-haired head. He frowned.
Water without a trace? 《Chivalrous bones》? Was it the Water without a Trace he knew and the 《Chivalrous bones》 he knew?
But 《Chivalrous bones》 was not . . . He frowned hard and was just about to find out where the voice came from when his cell phone suddenly vibrated. He looked down and saw that it was Zhao Zhenxun calling, so he hurriedly picked it up.
“Qi Cong, where are you?”
“On the way back.”
“That’s just right. When you get home, go to Jia Jia’s bedroom closet and take out the suit with the yellow label and bring it to Vienna Grand Hotel, Wutong Road, Guangming District, as soon as possible! Don’t take a taxi when you come. Take the subway. There may be a traffic jam.”
Zhao Zhenxun’s tone was very urgent, so Qi Cong hurriedly replied, “Okay.”
“Then hurry up.”
When the caller hung up, Qi Cong quickly discarded what he had been thinking about before, closed his open browser, turned off his mobile phone, glanced at the station sign, and strode past the crowd and towards the subway exit.
. . .
After an hour, Qi Cong finally arrived at the place Zhao Zhenxun mentioned. He went up to the eighth floor of the hotel, following the instructions given by Zhao Zhenxun, and knocked on the door of room 807.
Zhao Zhenxun was at the door. He took the suit from Qi Cong’s hand, turned around and stuffed it into the hands of a young girl with purple hair.
“Iron it! Xiao Han! Ask Shen Jia to wash quickly. The clothes have already arrived. Shen Jia’s hair is easy to handle. Don’t put on makeup. Just adjust his skin color to make him look better,” Zhao Zhenxun said as he walked in.
Qi Cong stopped the door before it closed automatically, walked in, and then carefully closed the door.
Edited by : Faro