When the hotel staff delivered the steaming, aromatic, and delicious breakfast to Luo Jun’s room, Luo Jun had already finished reading the serials of two martial arts novels, a romance novel, and a supernatural story.
Qin Huai was also reading enthusiastically on the side.
Although reading the traditional Chinese characters was a bit of a struggle and the stories were somewhat cliché, the writing was excellent. Especially the romance novel, with its family squabbles and gossip disputes, made Qin Huai feel as if the author was sitting right next to the people involved.
The breakfast that the hotel had fetched came with high-end tableware. The porridge was served in white porcelain bowls, the side dishes were placed on delicate petal-shaped saucers, and the buns were presented on silver trays.
The tableware provided was plentiful, a combination of knives, forks, chopsticks, and spoons—East meets West.
"Mr. Luo, this is the movie ticket for the new Sunday release, your favorite seat in the middle of the third row, a small token from our hotel." The attendant respectfully placed a movie ticket at the corner of the table after arranging the dishes.
Luo Jun had already put down the newspaper and started on the buns. He wasn’t skilled with chopsticks, and after failing to pick them up, he pretended to not be very interested in the buns and quietly picked up the bowl to drink his porridge.
"Just one?" Luo Jun asked.
The attendant was momentarily taken aback, then quickly replied, "Of course, it’s not just one. How many do you need? I’ll deliver them to you tonight."
"One more, next to this one," Luo Jun said. "You can deliver it with the newspaper tomorrow morning. Today, go to the bookstore and see if there are any new novels published. If there are, buy them all for me."
"Alright, is there anything else you need?"
"Do young ladies like chestnut cakes from Western restaurants?" Luo Jun asked the attendant.
This question stumped the attendant. Qin Huai guessed he probably hadn’t tried it before, and besides, he wasn’t a woman.
The attendant replied, "I believe that anything arranged by you, Mr. Luo, would be liked by any lady."
Luo Jun was very satisfied with this answer and nodded, "Buy one portion and deliver it to the theater after the show."
Luo Jun handed over a white British pound note, and the attendant took the money and left.
As soon as the attendant left, Luo Jun stabbed a fork fiercely into the bun, holding the fork in his left hand and chopsticks in his right, munching on the bun while fumbling with the chopsticks, muttering, "Why are these things so hard to use?"
After finishing his meal, Luo Jun read the newspaper novels for a while longer and, after catching up on the serials he was following, went out to sit in a café for a bit. He didn’t stay long at the café, presumably finding listening to the piano uninteresting and switched to a teahouse to listen to ballad performances.
At noon, he ordered takeout at the teahouse, casually ate some snacks, and hired a rickshaw to go to the theater.
The theater was located in a rather remote area.
Following Luo Jun around all morning, Qin Huai realized Luo Jun was staying at the Licha Restaurant in the bustling concession area, which had hotels, Western restaurants, cinemas, dance halls, and even department stores. You could see cars on the road, but most ordinary people commuted via trams or walking.
However, Luo Jun clearly wasn’t fond of riding the tram, maybe not liking the crowd, and he didn’t buy a car or hire a driver. For short distances, he’d walk, and for longer ones, he’d hire a rickshaw. With no change in his pocket, he’d pay only with small coins and larger coins without needing change, and the rickshaw driver would go the distance.
The money pilfered was spent generously.
Chasing the rickshaw all the way behind, Qin Huai even felt a bit regretful that the exercise in memories didn’t reflect in his actual body. Otherwise, if he watched memories and exercised strenuously from time to time, his body would surely be very healthy.
The theater was small, and from afar, it didn’t even initially appear to be a theater.
Standing at the entrance was a middle-aged man in a long gown, looking anxious. Upon seeing Luo Jun, the anxiety instantly turned to joy, and he came up to greet him from afar.
"Mr. Luo, I thought you might be busy and not coming today," the middle-aged man said, beaming, "Liu Tao was just at the backstage asking if you were coming today."
Qin Huai was immediately triggered by the keyword.
Luo Jun tossed two small coins to the rickshaw puller, "Even if I came early, I couldn’t watch more performances, it’d be a waste of time."
The class leader lightly slapped himself, "Look at me, I really can’t talk properly. Being able to come is already an honor for us, with your busy schedule. Please do come inside."
"Tea, snacks, and sunflower seeds are all prepared. Knowing you like crab cakes, I specially went to Ding Ji this morning to buy some."
Luo Jun walked inside.
This theater indeed was a small one, with a small stage and even fewer seats, without a second floor or private boxes.
Besides the two rows of small tables and a dozen or so elegant seats at the front, the rest were long benches.
But there were quite a few people, with only the two middle tables of the elegant seats empty, and the long benches were packed full. There were even many standing tickets at the edges, indicating good business.
The class leader led Luo Jun towards the elegant seats, and no one needed to move. Luo Jun had a table all to himself, as the people around knew him and greeted him with smiles.
"Mr. Luo is here to see Liang Zhu again, huh."
"What Liang Zhu, Mr. Luo is here for Liu Tao."
"Mr. Luo, when can we drink your wedding wine? Old Huang has already taken in his eighth concubine, yet you haven’t made a move at all."
"Mr. Luo, when do you plan to set up a residence? I have a good house right on the street where you’re staying at the Licha Restaurant. If you’re interested, I can show you after the show..."
"Look at you, Mr. Liang, watching Western movies every day; when did you become interested in Liang Zhu? It’s just to do business with Mr. Luo, isn’t it?"
"I’m also thinking for Mr. Luo. Living in a hotel every day is not very comfortable; having your own house is better."