Feng Mang

Chapter 17

Translator: Polarbearadise

Editor: FirstPersonNarrator (Bless this woman, she is back!!!! <3<3<3)

On the selection day Li Shang got up very early, he put on his new clothes and got ready to leave. When he turned around to take his bag, he saw Han Dong hold up his trouser as he anxiously begged: “Change into this.”

Li Shang couldn’t bear to dampen Han Dong’s enthusiasm so he put the trouser into the bag.

“When I arrive at the selection site, I’ll change into it.”

Li Shang just gone and Han Dong couldn’t go back to sleep, with his messy hair like a large sized poodle he crawled into Ye Chenglin’s room and plunged onto the bed with weary eyes.

Ye Chenglin patted him on the back of his head and asked: “Why didn’t you go with him?”

“I want to completely isolate myself from this circle.”

Ye Chenglin didn’t take it seriously at all and laughed teasingly: “Didn’t you have a premonition two days ago that you would become famous, why are you announcing your withdrawal at this critical moment?”

Han Dong, of course, didn’t want to face the real reason, simply without any better option he replied, “I’m bored of it."

“You also know what being bored is?”

Since the day Ye Chenglin knew Han Dong, he was unshakably stationed at the entrance of Beijing Studios, three years was like one day. In the view of Ye Chenglin, Han Dong had always had inexhaustible passion toward show business, he wouldn’t hit the south wall and doesn’t look back.

(T/N: Do not hit the south wall does not look back = to stubbornly insist on one’s own ideas = metaphor of a person’s behavior stubborn, do not listen to different views)

“Can you help me think of my capabilities?” Han Dong asked.

“You help me think, what can I do?” Han Dong’s face was full of worry.

“How much savings do you have in your hands?” Ye Chenglin asked.

Han Dong took out his money and scattered it on the bed, “eighty-seven yuan and three mao, a bus pass as well as twelve yuan and seven mao adding up to exactly one hundred.”

(T/N: Mao = 1/10 of a yuan. Think of dollar and cent, if yuan = dollar, mao will = cent

Ex. HD said eighty-seven yuan and three mao, in # form, it’s 87.3)

“......” Asking was equivalent to not asking, “Then your educational background...... Oh, yes, you graduated from junior high school......”

Han Dong especially stressed it, “Three Hundred Tang poetry feel free to test me.”

(T/N: Three Hundred Tang Poetry = collection of poems compiled by a scholar in Qin Dynasty named Sun Zhu)

“Who cares about that?” Ye Chenglin thought again, “yes, aren’t you always telling other people their fortune?”

“It’s only a concurrent job, besides, nowadays there are a lot of swindlers coming in, ruining our reputation as fortune tellers, this bowl of rice is more and more difficult to eat.”

(T/N: "this bowl of rice is more and more difficult to eat” = Hard to get customer/make $)

Ye Chenglin without a better option said, “then you can only be a migrant worker.”

“You mean a construction site laborer? Look at this figure, these long legs, doing physical labor is a waste of talent?”

“And if not? Nowadays how can you apply for a job with that kind of educational background? There are many units in charge of construction that need academic degrees now. Many recruited construction workers have undergraduate degrees, you wanting to be a migrant worker doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll get the job."

Han Dong buried his head in the bed sheets and sighed deeply.

++++++

“XX station, please swipe the card and exit the bus.”

Li Shang had just stepped out when the driver closed the door, Li Shang’s bag was caught between the door, he rushed toward the driver and shouted. “Hey, shifu, my bag is caught inside, help me open......”

(T/N: I didn’t put master because shifu can either be referring to master or an elder and in this case, it’s an elder)

He still hadn’t finished speaking when the driver had already started the bus, Li Shang staggered to run after. A while after the bus suddenly stopped, Li Shang still hadn’t come to a stop yet and the door was already opened, making him fall backward along with the bag.

Losing his balance, he fell into a puddle, what was even more strange was that his shirt was alright but a large area on his pants was covered with mud.

F***! Is that kid Han Dong cursing me?

Li Shang secretly gnashed his teeth, the pants that Han Dong had given him although had holes, it could still be considered a style, besides, these muddy pants already couldn’t be saved.