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Siming Street was one of the few places in Capital City where street food stalls were still allowed to operate.
Over a decade ago, due to concerns about noise and pollution, the city had shut down all nighttime food stalls. However, public demand, both from locals and tourists, had never waned. Eventually, the government designated specific areas to reopen and regulate these food streets, which became favorite haunts for seasoned foodies who knew where to find the good stuff.
Many diners firmly believed that only at a street stall could one taste truly authentic local cuisine.
As for those so-called high-end restaurants, well, people were just paying for appearances.
Whether or not that belief was actually true, one thing was undeniable: business on Siming Street was booming. Especially around dusk, when all the storefronts lit up and rows of large red lanterns created a festive and welcoming atmosphere.
Tables and chairs filled the sidewalks in front of the food stalls, and by dinnertime, finding a free seat was nearly impossible. The air was thick with the aromas of all kinds of delicious food, steamed, boiled, stir-fried, and deep-fried. Just breathing it in made life feel good again.
Siming Street was a pedestrian zone, so cars had to be parked in lots outside the area.
As they got out of the car, Liao Jia pulled out a pair of sunglasses and put them on, then handed another pair to Lu Chen.
"Put these on. People like us, well, we stop being ourselves once we're in public."
Lu Chen considered the meaning behind those words, then accepted the sunglasses without protest.
The street stall they were headed to was called "Old Zhu's Sichuan Kitchen," known for its authentic Sichuan cuisine and spicy crawfish. Business was hotter than the kitchen fires, packed to the brim, buzzing with the voices of hungry diners.
But one small table outside had been saved just for them.
Liao Jia dropped casually into a white plastic chair and grinned. "Xiao Li knows the owner. He called ahead to reserve the table. Otherwise, there'd be no way to get a seat at this hour."
Xiao Li, a sharp-looking young man with a buzzcut, was Liao Jia's assistant and driver, the quiet, no-nonsense type.
Lu Chen sat down across from him with a smile. "Then I guess we'll get to taste the chef's skills."
Xiao Li waved over a waiter. After briefly asking for Liao Jia and Lu Chen's preferences, he began ordering.
"Pickled Fish, Mapo Tofu, Twice-Cooked Pork, Spicy Blood Curd Hotpot... and five jin of crawfish. The big ones!"
After the order was placed, Liao Jia turned to Lu Chen. "Is that enough? Want to add anything you like?"
Lu Chen replied, "That's plenty. Thank you, Elder Brother Liao."
Liao Jia laughed. "Don't thank me just yet. Eating with me means drinking. How about beer?"
Normally, with his usual temperament, he'd have insisted on something like Erguotou, a strong Chinese baijiu brand.
But while he wasn't exactly fond of Lu Chen, he had to admit the kid's talent was something else. He decided to give Lu Chen some face.
The first time Liao Jia heard the band Wandering's song "In Spring," he'd been completely blown away. When he later found out it was written by a guy barely in his twenties, he could hardly believe it.
In this area, he had to admit Lu Chen had the upper hand, and he'd been looking for an opportunity to meet him ever since.
But before he got the chance, Tan Hong had already let slip about Lu Chen's relationship with Chen Fei'er.
At the time, Liao Jia honestly felt like he'd been kicked by a dog.
His feelings were... complicated. It wasn't that he was jealous or trying to compete with Lu Chen over Chen Fei'er, he wasn't that petty. But he was definitely holding in some frustration that he couldn't vent.
So when he finally had a chance to meet Lu Chen, he seized the opportunity to rope him into dinner.
What mattered most was that Liao Jia wanted to see for himself what kind of man Chen Fei'er had chosen.
And since Tan Hong had personally introduced Lu Chen to him, it was clear he hoped the two of them could become friends.
But becoming friends with Liao Jia meant one thing: if you couldn't hold your liquor, forget it!
Lu Chen paused for a beat, then said, "Alright!"
Bang!
Liao Jia snapped his fingers in a showy gesture. "Waiter, bring us two more cases of Budweiser!"
The first two cases arrived quickly.
Xiao Li expertly ripped open the packaging and pulled out two bottles, handing one to each of them.
Liao Jia twisted off the cap and raised his bottle toward Lu Chen. "Come on, let's chug the first one!"
Lu Chen chuckled, clinked bottles with him, and said, "Cheers!"
He was beginning to understand what kind of person Liao Jia really was.
In the entertainment industry, opinions on Liao Jia were split. Unlike someone like Tan Hong, who was universally respected, people either loved or hated Liao Jia. Some found him easy to get along with, straightforward, no scheming. Others thought he was too brash, too much of a "street tough," always cursing and losing his temper.
And today, he was living up to the legend.
Lu Chen knew that with people like this, if you clicked, you could become great friends. But if you didn't, there was no point in forcing it, it was smarter to keep your distance.
After all, you might not be able to win, but you could at least stay out of the blast radius.
Liao Jia had chased after Chen Fei'er for ten years and still failed. If he could smile and call Lu Chen "brother" after that, Lu Chen would absolutely keep his distance. That'd be too scary.
But instead, Liao Jia chose to confront Lu Chen directly, with a tone that suggested he was letting things go. He didn't seem truly hostile.
Still, deep down, he was clearly not okay with it.
This drinking contest was really just his way of blowing off steam.
And if Lu Chen had tried to back out now, it wouldn't just make him look weak, it would come across as disrespectful.
So he chugged the beer without hesitation.
Lu Chen didn't have the alcohol tolerance of a true heavy drinker, but with low-alcohol beer like this, he could probably drink until his stomach was too full to continue.
And besides, this fancy bottled Budweiser was only 330ml, nothing to stress about.
After each downed a bottle, Liao Jia looked pleased.
"Not bad. That's how a man drinks!"
"I can't stand those pretty-boy types, slicked-back hair, caked in makeup, limp and weak. Just looking at them makes me want to puke!"
"Let's go, another one!"
Without changing his expression, Lu Chen matched him drink for drink, three bottles in a row.
Setting down the empty bottle, Liao Jia let out a long, satisfied exhale.
"Ahhh, that hit the spot!"
Lu Chen laughed and opened another bottle.
"This one's to Elder Brother Liao."
Courtesy must be returned in kind. If someone offers me a foot of respect, I return them ten feet.
Lu Chen, thanks to his rich experiences from a previous life (3rd Dan's memories), was far more mature than most people his age. Calm, composed, and never rattled.
But that didn't mean he didn't have a temper.
If it were some other rookie, sitting across from a heavyweight like Liao Jia, they'd be trembling in their boots, not daring to challenge him in any way.
But Lu Chen wasn't that type of person.
When you desire nothing, you fear nothing.
He didn't need anything from Liao Jia, so he had no fear in his heart.
And if this was a drinking duel, he wasn't going to let the other side control the pace!
Liao Jia was a bit surprised, but he didn't back down. Without hesitation, he opened another bottle and chugged it with Lu Chen.
Another three bottles each.
All they'd eaten that day was a boxed lunch around noon, and they'd been filming the MV at the welfare center all afternoon. Now their stomachs were completely empty. After six bottles of Budweiser, Liao Jia's face had turned noticeably red, he was starting to feel it.
In contrast, Lu Chen's expression didn't change at all, exactly the same as when he'd started.
He was the kind of drinker whose face never flushed, even when drunk.
That made Liao Jia suddenly uneasy, because with this kind of drinker, you had no idea how much they could really handle.
And that's every drinker's worst nightmare.
Trying to get even with Lu Chen by drinking him under the table? That might've been a mistake.
Fortunately, that's when the steaming dishes started arriving. Liao Jia quickly said, "Let's eat first!"
Old Zhu's Sichuan Kitchen really lived up to its reputation. The dishes were expertly prepared and bursting with flavor. One dish in particular, Pickled Fish, was outstanding. The fish was so tender it melted in the mouth, and the sour, spicy, numbing, and savory flavors were perfectly balanced. Even Lu Chen couldn't help but heap on the praise.
The Spicy Crawfish was excellent too, a massive bowl piled high, and once you started peeling and eating, it was impossible to stop.
Not knowing Lu Chen's true alcohol tolerance, Liao Jia stopped pushing hard and instead switched to a slower, one-bottle-at-a-time strategy. Even so, he didn't ask his assistant Xiao Li to step in and tag-team Lu Chen.
As the drinks continued to flow, Liao Jia loosened up and started talking, sharing a flood of stories, mostly nostalgic ones.
Old tales, mainly about rock music. He talked about the time he and Black Crow Band held a concert at the Capital Workers' Stadium. Tens of thousands of rock fans screaming their hearts out, the memory still got his blood pumping.
Nowadays, though he made a lot more money than back then, he could never recapture that feeling. He didn't even dare host a concert anymore, afraid of getting cursed out by old-school fans of Chinese rock.
"Traitor to Chinese rock!" they'd shout.
Lu Chen kept quietly drinking, listening more than he spoke. He could feel the confusion and pain buried deep in Liao Jia's heart.
For those former vagabond rockers, surviving, or fading away, was a very real dilemma.
As time passed, the number of empty bottles on the table piled up.
Liao Jia was now beet red and slurring his words. Even Lu Chen had begun to feel the buzz creeping in.
Just then, a young man and woman walked over. The man was holding a guitar in his arms.
They looked like they were in their early twenties, a young couple, by the looks of it. Their clothes were worn and shabby.
In Capital City, drifting street musicians, known as Bei Piao, were everywhere. Street performances weren't uncommon. The more capable ones registered and secured licenses to perform in designated spots. Others roamed around, singing wherever they could, this couple belonged to the latter, a lower tier of street performers.
Roaming from food street to food street, most of them weren't particularly skilled. Some didn't even count as real musicians.
Liao Jia burst out laughing and pulled a large bill from his pocket, handing it over.
"No need to take requests. Lend me your guitar, I'll sing something myself!"
That was Liao Jia's unruly, unfiltered nature on full display.
Any other celebrity wouldn't be caught dead doing something so undignified.
But this, this was pure authenticity.
The young couple looked at each other, stunned. They clearly had never encountered something like this before.
Lu Chen chuckled and said gently, "Don't worry, he won't damage your guitar."
He knew what they were worried about. Having once been at the bottom himself, he understood, they feared this tipsy man might break their instrument.
And the guitar wasn't some cheap knockoff, easily worth 1,000–2,000 yuan.
It was totally normal for them to treasure it.
The young man hesitated for a moment, then had his girlfriend take the money while he carefully removed the guitar and handed it over.
He wasn't entirely comfortable with the boss-like Liao Jia, but Lu Chen clearly gave off a trustworthy vibe.
Liao Jia took the guitar and tested the strings with practiced ease, muttering,
"Completely out of tune, and you still go out and sing with this thing?"
The young man instantly flushed a deep red.
Liao Jia didn't spare him another glance. He adjusted the tuning roughly and then plucked the steel strings with force.
(End Of This Chapter)