Happens to be Zhang

chapter 7

"Rethinking your proposal?"

"A bit." Xiaochen's hand trembles on the door knob. Hanzhang has taken off his shoes and is wearing them like slippers, pressing the end flat with his heels.

"You're well to do, aren't you?"

"Not quite the struggler, but how did you deduce that? My earrings?"

"This floor has only two houses, the rest all have four."

"Ah." Xiaochen pushes the knob down and an intense cool air leaks out. He forgot to turn off the air con. Think of the electricity bills. "Welcome to my humble abode."

"Fucking hell." Hanzhang's eyes widen. It is a natural reaction to see such an apartment in such a quaint little neighbourhood, with the open balcony that overlooks a garden. "How much is the rent?"

"It's quite cheap."

"And you're an artist." Hanzhang's gaze falls on the walls above the couch, the fancy vintage desk, a whole wall dedicated to rough sketches instead of the TV unit. "A manhua artist. Man, this is crazy awesome."

The tall man steps in uninvited, heading straight to the first drafts of Siqi and her cat. It's a side profile and an angle of three quarters of her face, eyes cast down and a gentle smile on her face. Hanzhang's finger traces the air over her jaw. "This is beautiful."

Xiaochen's stomach folds in half. Then folds in half again.

"It's not that good."

"There's something better than this?"

Hanzhang's fluidity surprises Xiaochen. Is it a careful conniving, or is his brain wired to please people in a way that validates their deep suppressed emotions. He is in Xiaochen's house, shoeless, tactless, skipping over from one sketch to another, grading them in a formative scale created in his biased mind.

"The storyboards, I mean. They are a final form of that character."

"Song Siqi. She looks sad."

"She is." Something tugs on the artist's heartstrings. "Well, Mr—"

"Hanzhang."

"Hanzhang ge," Xiaochen decides on the formality, "what I wanted to ask was related to this."

"Hm?" Hanzhang turns to him. Eyebrows raised and lips resting in a small, teasing smile.

"You are a lawyer —"

"An attorney, technically."

"I got a mail from a production house... they're, well, offering me a TV adaptation of this–" Xiaochen points to Siqi's sketch, "–this thing. This manhua. I released the last episode just a couple days ago."

Hanzhang's head dips. "A criminal defense attorney."

"Oh." Xiaochen exhales a quiet chuckle. "I thought you dealt in corporate law."

"My business card specified my profession." Hanzhang clutches his heart. "What production house is this?"

All caution is thrown to the wind. "Come in, I'll just show you the mail itself." Xiaochen walks in his room, heart throbbing in his neck.

"Are you inviting me to your bedroom?" Hanzhang looks pained.

"This is my study, that perpetually dark room is my bedroom."

Hanzhang stops by the adjacent door. He peeks in. "You really don't have a light bulb here."

"Helps me focus on sleeping better."