Chapter Eighty-Six: A Flower

“Isn’t this going too far, picking on a little girl like that?” Just as the young man once again seized the terrified, tear-streaked girl, forcing her to drink, a large hand suddenly gripped the youth’s wrist, stopping the bottle midair.

At this moment, the one who stepped forward could only be our protagonist, Yan Xu, who had just unlocked his golden finger.

Singers like these were all circuit performers, dealing with customers’ disputes on their own; bar and club owners rarely got involved, unless things were truly serious. For a singer working the circuit, these situations were inevitable—drinking with customers was the least of it, and many faced harassment, even worse demands.

Although Yan Xu thought the young girl showed promise, he had no desire to meddle. This was Taiwan, not Hong Kong, and those young men and women numbered at least half a dozen. If a conflict broke out, he would undoubtedly be at a disadvantage.

He was curious to see how the girl would handle it. For a girl who might one day become a star, she’d need to learn how to navigate such situations.

But while Yan Xu preferred not to interfere, Zhou Huimin beside him felt differently. Seeing a girl even younger than herself being bullied like this was something she couldn’t ignore. She tugged at Yan Xu’s arm, silently pleading with him, and so he stepped forward. In front of a woman, a man must show his mettle.

“Well, well, someone wants to play the hero. You should check your own worth before trying to rescue a damsel in distress,” the youth sneered, shaking his arm free from Yan Xu’s grip, showing no hint of fear as he sized up Yan Xu, who stood alone.

“I know my own worth. Not like some people, dressed up on the outside but empty within, all talk and no substance,” Yan Xu replied coolly. He truly wasn’t intimidated. He himself had spent time on the streets, even participated in gang brawls. Even if several of them came at him, there would be no easy victory for either side.

“Who the hell are you calling empty?” The young man, fueled by alcohol, grew more aggressive. His friends, emboldened, closed in around Yan Xu.

“What’s going on here? What’s going on?” The bar owner, seeing things about to get out of hand, hurried over and wedged himself between Yan Xu and the group, forcing a smile.

“Gentlemen, this place is under the protection of Brother Guji. Let’s all do each other a favor—tonight’s drinks are on me.”

“Boring. Let’s go.” In the end, they were just a bunch of college kids, not hardened criminals. Perhaps the mention of Brother Guji was enough, or maybe they’d never intended to cause real trouble. Bottles in hand, the group filed out of the bar.

Watching them leave, the bar owner breathed a sigh of relief. He could have called in the heavies to settle things, but that always came at a cost. It was best when things ended peacefully.

“Hurry up and get back on stage. At the very least, you owe me another ten minutes,” he snapped, his tone turning harsh as he glared at the girl, who was now shaking uncontrollably, sobbing too hard to speak.

Despite her condition, the boss urged her on. If she left the stage, there’d be no one to sing, and the circuit singers came and went so quickly that there was rarely anyone to cover.

“She’s in no state to go on!” Zhou Huimin hurried over, wrapping the girl in her arms and comforting her. Upon hearing the boss’s demand, her displeasure was clear.

“I can’t leave the stage empty. The next singer won’t be here for another ten minutes. If the show stops, my business suffers,” the bar owner replied anxiously, the sounds of restlessness already rising from the audience.

“So what do we do?” Zhou Huimin looked desperately at Yan Xu, still holding the girl. “I can’t go up there.” She was a public figure; she couldn’t perform here, and her Mandarin was far from fluent. She barely managed to sing “Girl With Wings” by spelling out the lyrics phonetically, let alone perform now.

Yan Xu hesitated, catching the plea in Zhou Huimin’s eyes. “If there’s no other way, I’ll do it.” With things as they were, he could only step in—it was best to see this through.

“Are you up to it?” The bar owner interjected before Zhou Huimin could speak.

“You’re waiting for someone, aren’t you? I’ll fill in for ten minutes.” Yan Xu looked at the boss. While he might not sing as well as a star, he could manage. He wouldn’t offer if he weren’t confident.

“All right, then. Hurry up and thank you.” The bar owner urged him on.

This was Yan Xu’s first time on stage. Even though the audience below numbered fewer than a hundred, his heart pounded with excitement and nerves.

He’d seen his share of big scenes, but singing on stage was a first for him.

“May I borrow your guitar for a moment?” As Yan Xu stepped up, the noise from the crowd quieted. He walked straight to the resting band members and addressed one of the guitarists.

The musicians had seen what just happened, and the guitarist readily handed over his acoustic guitar.

Yan Xu took a deep breath, glancing at the crowd. He cleared his throat, blew into the microphone, and said, “This is my first time singing on stage. If I don’t do well, I ask for your understanding.” He pulled up a chair, sat down, and smiled at the audience.

“Go for it!” someone called.

“Good luck, man!”

The audience had witnessed Yan Xu’s act of courage and were surprised to see him on stage, but also impressed. His words drew whistles and applause.

“For you all, I’ll be performing an original song called ‘A Flower.’ I hope you enjoy it!”

Yan Xu knew his voice wasn’t particularly remarkable—probably only average among the many talented singers who performed in bars. If he covered someone else’s song, the effect would likely be mediocre, perhaps even ending in boos. He had to stand out in another way; for his first performance, he wanted no regrets or poor impressions.

“Sitting quietly in a corner, I watch people come and go in slow motion. You’re sitting with your back to me, at three o’clock from where I am. I send you a drink—it’s called Takila Boom. I wonder if you’re waiting for someone—a boyfriend, girlfriend, or just someone you’ve just met. Suddenly you toss your head, revealing half your face, and in that instant, I’m overcome with sadness. You look just like my uncle. From afar you’re a flower; up close, oh my, what a shock. If I had an AK right now, I’d really want to send you home…”

This song, “A Flower,” was a favorite of Yan Xu’s, originally by the Taiwanese reggae band Matzka. Its lively rhythm and playful lyrics perfectly captured the mindset of a guy trying to chat up a girl. In this era, such narrative songs were rare in the music scene and sure to sound fresh to the audience. Though Yan Xu’s voice lacked the lead singer’s raw power and rasp, his own slightly hoarse timbre captured a similar charm. Especially for those who hadn’t heard the original, this catchy song was bound to leave a good impression.