He Rumeng's exclusive interview took only a few hours to record. Wei Zijin sounded positively buoyant over the phone, saying Sister He was very pleased and they had already arranged to have dinner together that evening.
Wang Xiaoliang arrived two hours early at the hotel where He Rumeng was staying.
Its restaurant was no less refined in atmosphere and style than Boundless.
He could not sit still in the private dining room. He got up, walked around twice, then sat back down. He went through the menu three times and had his tea refilled twice. He picked up his phone and put it down, then picked it up again.
He did not want to watch short videos. His own face popped up every few clips.
He admitted he was nervous.
He Rumeng. A diva of the Chinese-language music scene. Over a hundred million records sold, every concert sold out, more awards than she could hold.
Today, he would be eating at the same table as her.
Wang Xiaoliang stood again and straightened his collar. Wei Zijin had picked out his shirt, saying he dressed too casually in everyday life and could not embarrass them today.
At six thirty, his phone vibrated. Wei Zijin had sent a message: "We're downstairs."
He sat back down. Straightened up. Adjusted the teacup in front of him.
Then a passage suddenly came to mind.
From the Book of Fate.
To understand a person, wash away the superficial glitter, set aside their titles and crowns, disregard their outward form, and shut out the opinions of others. Observe only the subtleties of their words and deeds, examine the smallest details of their conduct, and, like a roll of plain silk, they will write out for you their kindness or baseness, honesty or deceit, righteousness or wickedness, crookedness