Chapter Thirty-Three: "Long Time No See"

Ren Qian’s performance of “Dimples of a Shallow Smile” merely served to catch the guests’ attention, but it did not bring them any sense of artistic revelation. For these passersby, lacking in appreciation, the only things that could earn their applause were “Ren Qian is quite good-looking” and “the melody is pleasant.” To truly make them settle down and delve into the inner beauty of the song was a near-impossible task.

Some things always remain at the surface.

If Ren Qian were to bring “Dimples of a Shallow Smile” to the Vienna Opera House, accompanied by a symphony orchestra of dozens, or even hundreds, with dazzling lights and a majestic arrangement, only then would people exclaim, “Now this is real art!” But what do they really know about art?

Thus,

For a singer to achieve fame and fortune, to make money, they must sing popular music that appeals to the masses; otherwise, it’s nothing more than playing music to deaf ears.

The song Ren Qian chose next was immensely popular, with a simple, catchy melody—so easy to remember that after hearing it once, one could hum along. In his previous life, this song was famous everywhere, especially in cafes, where playing “Long Time No See” was the definition of taste.

That’s why Ren Qian dared to boast that recording this song would boost the cafe’s business.

Clearing his mind, Ren Qian took a deep breath.

He excelled in handling baritone and lower registers, particularly skilled at a husky, deep tone—though his vocal range was wide, perhaps out of habit from his previous life, or maybe due to his temperament, he was never one to chase high notes.

Now, what was needed was Ren Qian’s forte—his deep, low voice.

He tensed his vocal cords just enough to create a gentle friction—not too much force, but with persistent repetition!

Until his chest and Adam’s apple trembled;
Until his scalp tingled from the vibration of his vocal cords;
Until he felt the chill of the night air at his back;
Until he seemed on the verge of falling apart in that seemingly gentle, yet deadly, friction and quiver.

Only then did Ren Qian’s emotion-laden baritone drift out softly, like volcanic ash from the mouth of an extinct volcano—not with the explosive force of erupting magma, but with a poison all its own.

…

“I came to your city,
Walked down the roads you once traveled,
Imagining the days without me,
How lonely must you have been?”

…

His voice was languid, sorrowful and wounded.

This was the listeners’ first impression—and then, a thousand thoughts surged uncontrollably, past memories bursting forth like demons freed from their seals, ravaging their hearts, raw pain spreading within.

In just four short lines, the lyrics entered the ear and became a demon in the heart: catching them unprepared, utterly defenseless, a battlefield of chaos, broken spears and shattered armor.

And the one to blame—Ren Qian—still sang, eyes glistening with tears, Adam’s apple bobbing, his somber baritone swirling, giving no one a chance to catch their breath.

“Holding the photo you gave me,
That familiar street,
But without your presence in the frame,
We can never return to that day.”

He repeated the previous melody, changing only the lyrics, but never altering that profoundly mournful tone. This intentional imperfection was like adding a fresh wound atop an old scar on the listeners’ hearts.

Wound upon wound, until all hope dies.

“Will you suddenly appear one day?
In a corner café,
I’ll greet you with a smile…turn back and exchange pleasantries,
And sit with you…just chatting for a while.
How I wish to see you again…

To see how you’ve changed,
Not to dwell on the past…just small talk,
To say just one thing…only one thing:
Long time no see.”

His voice was hushed, yet full of longing and grievance; as if weeping, as if confessing.

Until Ren Qian reached the end and let out a gentle, heavy breath, the entire song featured no climax—just a plain and simple melody, the sorrow and pain of the singer’s emotion combining into a surging flood. Time and again, it threatened to pierce the thin veil between reason and losing control, yet Ren Qian forced it back each time.

The listeners, however, were oblivious to Ren Qian’s intent. They were simply immersed in the song, sharing in its story, slowly sinking deeper, unable to pull themselves out. The sentimental among them began to connect the lyrics to their own lives, and moments from the past replayed in their minds like scenes from a film.

“One year since I broke up with her, and I’ve always wanted to catch a glimpse of her again in secret.
Every day I’d drive my taxi down the roads she used to walk, but I never saw her.
This morning, as usual, I drove down that street.
In the distance, a girl hailed my taxi.
It was her!
She looked the same, ponytail and all.
Just like back then.
I stopped the car, and when she saw it was me, time froze for three seconds.
She gently closed the door without getting in.
I simply looked into the rearview mirror and said: Long time no see…”

……

“I suffer from insomnia every night.

It’s been nearly two years since we parted, and you’re now married.
Yet I stubbornly search for traces of you in my current girlfriend.
We were together for three years through all the hardships, but when we split, we didn’t even see each other one last time…

The diary, the little notes—I’ve kept them for five years. I never found the courage to open them again.
I imagine, if we ever meet again, when and where would it be?
In what tone, with what feelings, would I say to you: Long time no see…”

…

“Holding the photo you gave me,
That familiar street,
But without your presence in the frame,
We can never return to that day.
Will you suddenly appear one day?
In a corner café,
I’ll greet you with a smile…turn back and exchange pleasantries,
And sit with you, just chatting for a while.
How I wish to see you again,
To see how you’ve changed,
Not to dwell on the past—just small talk,
To say just one thing, only one thing:
Long time no see…”

As the song ended,

The guitar’s melody lingered, mournful and bleak. The trembling, muffled strings sounded like the wailing of lost souls.

Looking up, every guest’s eyes were filled with tears. The proud men tilted their heads back, forcing the tears not to fall; the women made no effort to hide it, burying their faces in their arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Even those who had never experienced loss before now feared the pain that might one day be hidden behind those four words: “Long time no see.”

Even the usually cold and distant manager stood behind the counter, her large eyes brimming with unshed tears.

“Long…time…no see…”

For the final line, Ren Qian used the last of his breath, mimicking the protagonist’s long sigh at the end of the song, creating a scene of forced composure that made everyone’s nose tingle with emotion.

Long time no see.

But is there ever such an easy “long time no see” in this life?