Chapter 2: "Ten Years"

Lin Chuan nodded, but before he could speak, the woman, with an indifferent air, said, “Registration fee is two hundred, then fill in the information here.”

Hearing this, Lin Chuan was momentarily stunned, then immediately began rummaging through his belongings. Soon, a heap of change appeared on the table—coins and small bills of one, five, and ten, without a single twenty or fifty among them.

The woman in charge of registration could hardly hide her displeasure at this sight. After much effort, Lin Chuan finally counted out two hundred yuan from the pile and handed it over.

“Fill out this form, and then you can go home and wait,” the woman said coldly, tossing a sheet of paper in front of him.

Lin Chuan nodded, picked up the pen, and swiftly filled out the form. When he finished, he noticed the woman was still counting the registration money, not even bothering to glance at him. Understanding the situation, Lin Chuan quietly pushed the form toward her, took Lin Yiyang by the hand, and silently turned to leave.

Just as they were about to go, Lin Yiyang suddenly turned back and made a funny face at the woman, who was still counting the money for the umpteenth time.

Not long after Lin Chuan and his son had left, a middle-aged man in his forties approached. “Xiao Liu, what are you doing there?”

The woman, flustered, immediately stood up with a forced smile. “Director Chen, what brings you here? Someone just registered and paid in coins and small bills. I’m making sure the amount is right…”

As she spoke, the man noticed the pile of change and frowned slightly. “Who just registered? Why so much small change?”

“I don’t know. Looked like a homeless man,” the woman replied with a trace of disdain in her eyes.

“I really don’t get it. Young people these days never want to work honestly, always dreaming of overnight fame…” The man shook his head helplessly.

She smiled slyly. “Director Chen, it’s exactly these dreamers who keep our ratings soaring.”

He looked at her, his voice even and cool. “Sort out the registration materials and bring them to me later.”

“Yes, Director Chen!” she nodded repeatedly, not daring to delay.

…

Having left the office building, Lin Chuan and Lin Yiyang were naturally unaware of the middle-aged man’s arrival or his conversation with the woman.

Checking his phone, Lin Chuan saw there was still time before he needed to go to the bar, so he took his son to a small noodle shop nearby.

Lin Yiyang’s stomach had been growling all afternoon. As a father, Lin Chuan felt all the more guilty.

“Boss, one bowl of beef noodles,” Lin Chuan called out loudly as they entered. The shop wasn’t crowded.

“Coming!” a man replied with a smile.

Before long, a steaming bowl of beef noodles was set between Lin Chuan and Lin Yiyang. The man who had spoken earlier frowned slightly. “Hey, is this your son?”

Lin Chuan was taken aback. “Yes, that’s right. Why?”

“Come on, man, father and son come to eat noodles and you only order one bowl? Kids have big appetites these days. How about I make another bowl?” the man suggested.

Lin Chuan quickly waved his hand and smiled. “No need, one bowl is enough. I’m not hungry.”

He then took out what little money he had left and handed it to the man.

The man took the money, looked at Lin Chuan deeply, then shook his head and said nothing more as he turned away.

“Eat up. We still have to go to the bar later,” Lin Chuan said with a smile, pushing the noodles toward his son.

Though only five, Lin Yiyang was more sensible than most children his age. Even though he was hungry, he hadn’t eaten anything, just like his father. Holding back, he swallowed hard, shook his little head, and said in his childlike voice, “Dad, you eat. Leave me a little, that’s enough. I’m not really hungry…”

Lin Chuan was unexpectedly moved by his son’s words. His sense of guilt deepened, as did his resolve to change their lives.

No matter what, he would ensure his only son, Lin Yiyang, could live a better life.

After a moment, Lin Chuan picked up his chopsticks, took out a piece of beef, blew on it gently to cool it, then brought it to Lin Yiyang’s lips.

Lin Yiyang froze. Since he could remember, his father had never really taken care of him, let alone fed him. All his life, his father had been lost in alcohol; he could hardly recall seeing him sober, and even if he was, his father often seemed cold and indifferent.

Now, seeing his father feed him, Lin Yiyang was both shocked and filled with a warm current that seemed to flow through him. Tears streamed uncontrollably down his cheeks as he smiled and opened his mouth to eat the beef.

Seeing his son’s tear-streaked face, yet still smiling, Lin Chuan’s eyes grew moist as well. In a gentle voice, he said, “Son, from today on, I will do everything I can to give you a good life. I swear on this bowl of beef noodles.”

Lin Yiyang chuckled, wiping away his tears with his small hand. He picked up a pair of chopsticks, took out a piece of beef from the bowl, and held it up to his father. “Dad, you have some too!”

Lin Chuan smiled, nodded, and opened his mouth to eat the beef. And so, the father and son took turns, eating happily together.

The other diners and the shop owner, witnessing the scene, found their initial contempt and disdain slowly giving way to comfort and sympathy.

To others, a bowl of beef noodles might mean little, but for Lin Chuan and Lin Yiyang, it was significant. For Lin Yiyang in particular, he finally felt his father’s love.

When they left the noodle shop, the sun was already dipping in the sky—it was past four in the afternoon.

“Let’s go. For a better life tomorrow, let’s set out!” The father and son exchanged a smile, Lin Chuan’s large hand holding tightly to his son’s small one as they walked together toward the end of the street.

Nightfall Bar was located in the bustling commercial district of Beining City, on a street lined with bars. As evening approached, the area filled with people—some arriving in luxury cars, others in groups on foot, weaving in and out of the various establishments.

Nightfall Bar was relatively quiet, with a steady clientele of its own.

Outside the bar stood a middle-aged man with a blank expression. Opposite him was a man in his thirties, a battered wooden guitar slung over his back, and beside him, a handsome little boy.

There was no need to ask—it was Lin Chuan and Lin Yiyang.

“You’re the singer Yuan Ye recommended?” the middle-aged man asked, sizing up Lin Chuan.

“That’s right, Boss Xu. My name is Lin Chuan,” he replied with a smile.

“That’s your son? How old is he?” Boss Xu’s gaze fell on Lin Yiyang, and a faint smile appeared on his face.

“Hello, Boss Xu. My name is Lin Yiyang, and I’m five years old,” the boy replied, imitating his father’s tone, trying to sound grown-up.

“This little guy is really endearing,” Boss Xu laughed, ruffling Lin Yiyang’s hair affectionately. “Lin Chuan, when you’re on stage, let me look after him. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not. Thank you, Boss Xu,” Lin Chuan replied with a smile.

They exchanged a few more words before heading into the bar together.

Since it was not yet peak hours, only a few patrons were scattered about, drinking and chatting.

As time passed, the bar gradually filled up.

“Don’t be nervous, Xiao Chuan. Just sing as you normally do,” Boss Xu said reassuringly as he led Lin Yiyang over to Lin Chuan before his set.

Lin Chuan nodded without saying much. In his previous life, he had often worked as a part-time singer in bars, so such a scene did not make him nervous at all. Still, he was grateful for Boss Xu’s encouragement.

The lighting in the bar was dim, but Lin Chuan could make out the figures—some alone in corners, sipping their drinks, others in groups, chatting and laughing.

He took up his old guitar and played songs familiar to this world. Yet, the audience seemed largely uninterested; few paid him any attention.

But Lin Chuan didn’t mind. When he finished a familiar tune, he took the microphone, cleared his throat, and said, “This next song is for everyone here, for all of you ten years ago and ten years from now…”

As his words fell, many people turned their heads toward the stage. Of course, there were still those who remained indifferent, lost in their own worlds.

If those two words hadn’t trembled,
I wouldn’t have noticed my pain.
How to speak of it,
After all, it’s only a breakup.
If there was no expectation for tomorrow,
Holding hands would be like traveling,
Thousands of doors to step through,
But someone always leaves first.
If an embrace cannot linger,
Why not, when parting,
Savor the tears as you go…

Ten years ago,
I didn’t know you, you didn’t belong to me…

As the song filled the bar, many people put down their glasses, staring intently at Lin Chuan on stage. For a moment, they seemed to forget to breathe, and countless memories from years past were stirred by his voice.