I am not Ximen Qing.

Liszt was riding high, a multi-talented young artist. But in the face of reality, he didn't even have the chance to become Van Gogh. His lover, Apollo, was utterly disappointed in him. He awoke from Liszt's boastful artistic dream—a lioness had awakened. Damn it, she'd been with Liszt for over ten years, now living in a bedroom in his studio, while his two Mongolian assistants slept in the living room just a door away. Post-production was a grueling, burner-light affair; saving on rent was essential for his artistic dreams.

"Daughter, he's a liar."

“Dad, I told you, this house could have been bought for 6000 yuan, 6000 yuan per square meter, but now it’s 30,000 yuan.”

"We've lost out big time, daughter, that damned little liar!"

"Dad, you're right. If I hadn't listened to you back then..."

“Dad misjudged him; his words were as tempting as those of Satan and the devil.”

"That's right, we've fallen for the Japanese devils' trap."

"What do we do? We've lost both our money and our loved ones!"

"Dad, don't insult your daughter's innocence."

"I've always had my doubts."

"What do you suspect?"

Where did the money go?

"Yes, Dad, where did the money go?"

"You ask me? That's truly your failure,"

"So he's a complete fraud."

My father was both Liszt's teacher and friend. But he didn't want to continue being Liszt's future father-in-law! He was so angry he wanted to tear Liszt apart. Not only had he taught him the art of photography for free, but he had also sacrificed his daughter's youth and future. Any man in the industry could easily afford an apartment in Beijing!

"Back when he had 30,"

"What's a house? We'll have a million soon!"

"When he had a million,"

"What's a house? You'll have 500 million soon!"

"How much money does your daughter have now?"

"300"

How much money does he have?

"Less than 80 yuan is left after expenses."

"Understand?"

"Understand what?"

"If this continues, he won't even have 30."

"Even the cabbage seller at the market has a house now, while I've been hanging out with a penniless guy like him for over ten years..."

"Yes, he has to pay the price for deceiving the girl's youthful feelings."

“The price, Dad, is that he’s just a pauper now,”

"Yes. You can't get revenge on a poor person."

In real society, the punishment for artistic and literary youths is severe. At this moment, Liszt's old ways, even with the silver tongues of Su Qin and Zhang Yi, would be laughable to an old woman in rural China. He could be cursed to the depths of hell. Damn Liszt, why did he have to choose such a name? This artistic youth, living in a dream world, couldn't escape Liszt's obsession: houses, houses, houses—more important than anything else. The value of reinforced concrete surpassed everything. Don't discuss the value of art with worldly clowns; if they were houses made of concrete, Liszt would be utterly humiliated in front of the father and daughter. He owed them a debt of deep regret. What crime had he committed? The house was mocking him cruelly.

"You poor wretch, you had ten thousand chances to become a prince, yet you mocked those real estate agents who fawned over you. You looked down on real estate saleswomen, whom you considered divine intervention, living bodhisattvas saving humanity from hell. You're truly getting your just desserts. Be careful, you'll still be a poor wretch when you return to your hometown, you know? You're a beggar now."

"What? Am I a beggar?"

"That's right, you can't look down on the Earth God. Think about your sins, you actually dared to disrespect the existence of a god!"

"Now we ask God for help."

"Even gods have their difficulties; there are too many gods above, and even the Earth God has to be virtuous."

"Then there's no hope."

Liszt offended the local gods with his arrogance, deserving his fate as a beggar. However, Liszt did possess some extraordinary talents. It's a pity he shouldn't have been born in China; he could have been born in Italy, where he could have been a mistress, traveling throughout Western Europe to seduce the wives of powerful men. He was the most outstanding gentleman in the world, and Italian men were the happiest. They could spend their free time sunbathing on the Aegean coast, admiring women's bodies at the bathhouses, spending endless amounts of money from powerful men and women.

Liszt was a refined and cultured man, wearing golden spectacles. Tall and imposing, with a tolerant temperament, he treated people like heroes. Song Yu admired Liszt's diligence and considered him a promising young talent. Liszt and Zhang Sheng would often visit the small tavern downstairs after work. After a satisfying meal and drinks, Liszt would talk about his beloved family. His parents' eyes would light up whenever he spoke of his brother.

"My brother has had a tough time. Earning money is incredibly difficult for him,"

Then he would talk about how he helps his brother, and how he gives his brother several sums of money every year.

“My parents still live in the old house, so I bought them a house for 30 yuan.”

"You are such a filial son,"

Zhang Sheng's mother, all she does is say nice things like praise, and if Song Yu were Zhang Sheng, she would sing praises without any limits.

"Don't do that, it's too hypocritical."

"What hypocrisy? You can't say that. Li Si was particularly like that, and you look like a beggar right now. You're poor at home, what are you pretending for? You'll be punished for it."

Of course, that's what I was thinking in my heart; in front of Liszt, I still had to praise the hymns that God had given to everyone.

"To play the role of God is too great,"

Thinking this way, and not wanting Liszt to continue his lavish boasting about his sacrifices for his family, I changed the subject and started talking about Lin Yutang's art of living. Lin Yutang, when facing financial hardship, wrote about a uniquely Chinese way of life. We discussed Jin Shengtan, *Journey to the West*, Su Dongpo, Lao Tzu, Confucius, Buddha Shakyamuni, and Li Yu's *Idle Thoughts*, which depicted the most cherished aspects of Chinese culture—the intimate pleasures of the boudoir. Lin Yutang's brilliant writing revealed to Westerners an unimaginable world, a mysterious Eastern culture, a clear stream, a serene realm of pastoral landscapes. Compared to the decadent, restless, and lustful Western world, it was a profound shock to them. Even love was expressed in this worldly realm—the Buddha exchanging glances, Yingying a beautiful woman—how beautiful and romantic! Oh, matchmaker! I really wish I could meet a matchmaker to bring about a temple romance. Zhang Sheng had seen a portrait of Green Pearl, Shi Chong's favorite concubine. Whenever the topic turned to this, Liszt would be in great pain; his fiancée was an ugly woman! A shrew with a fierce, shrewish appearance. Zhang Sheng never imagined Liszt would be so embarrassed. Men all like this; in the East, there are Tang Yin's portraits of beauties.

"All men are the same,"

"what?"

"They all like women..."

"That's too much, that's too much!"

Don't mistake my vulgarity for genuineness; vulgarity is the most sincere quality.

"We are like-minded artistic youths who are unsophisticated in our approach."

That's you, not me.

“Yes, that’s me,” Zhang Sheng replied. He understood that there was a significant age difference between him and Liszt. He certainly didn’t dare claim to be young; being in his thirties was middle-aged, not young.

"But men are all old boys,"

"what?"

"An old boy who never grows up"

Every summer, all Liszt saw were jade-like legs, exposed beneath skirts and hidden under gauze dresses.

"That won't be an obstacle for Changchun. They are all dynamic reliefs. Their outlines are much more interesting than looking at them directly. With the gentle ripples of pink and delicate skin, we men can perceive the meaning of existentialism. A proud face does not mean that her heart is as still as water."

"This is incredible, it's like talking to a philosopher!" "Oh, maybe I'm China's future master!"

"I always feel like something's missing?"

"Want to know the answer?"

"Want to know."

"The desire that shone in their eyes perfectly matched the object of men's desires."

"I'm so unhappy,"

"Most men are cowards, so those who achieve a happy life are all prodigals."

At this point, Liszt did not follow Zhang Sheng's theory.

"I still love her, and I've never had even the slightest interest in pretty girls,"

"That's because you haven't experienced enough life. The Tale of Genji is quite accurate in its exploration of male-female relationships. The pride of Japanese literature has been around for over 1000 years, and we're living worse than the ghosts of the past!"

"ghost"

"Yes, ghosts understand love better than I do. The Emperor's son fell in love with his mother."

"Incest" "Incest is a moral issue; since they have no blood relation, it doesn't matter if it's incest or not. From a romantic perspective, it's an epic love story involving too many women. Genji eventually became a monk. We haven't even had a few romances, how can we understand love? Nalan Xingde. A peaceful life. 'Bitterness is only as beautiful as the first encounter'—that's so wonderful. Love is indeed like the first encounter in life."

Yaoji, a time-honored brand under the Drum Tower, has a place where you can take some time to visit the Ksitigarbha Hall and pay homage to Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva. "I will not become a Buddha until hell is empty"—that is a great vow!

Eating delicacies made from the heart, liver, lungs, and intestines of a pig, consuming seven or eight ounces of meat buns in one go. The old Beijing saying, "Southern people are cheap, northern people are poor; western people are rich, eastern people are noble," is no longer relevant. In this vast world, braised pork offal and fried liver have become a culinary paradise near the Drum Tower. Humanity's notions of cheapness, nobility, poverty, or wealth align with the Buddha's words: this world of five turbidities, without faith, without culture, without the existence of gods, is still the realm of Maitreya, a large belly containing all the joys, sorrows, and ugliness of the world. The best state of mind is neither good nor evil.

"I'm now buddies with Yan Lao Da, Yan Lao Er, Yan Lao San, ... Yan Lao Shi. If you need anything in hell, just ask me. I have connections in the government, so it'll be easier to get things done."

Are you hallucinating? Are you crazy?

"Can't the Ten Kings of Hell be good friends?"

"What's wrong? What happened to you?"

"Because I've encountered madmen, and only they can help me."

The surroundings felt both familiar and strange. Climbing the clock tower and gazing at the famous Yongle Bell, one recalls a young woman who jumped into molten iron to have it cast. Otherwise, the Yongle Bell would not exist, it would never have been there to tell the time for the entire capital. Does the disco where she danced still exist? She danced her youthful energy on the vibrant stage of the dance floor. Qianqian is nowhere to be found, Zhang Sheng. I'm so afraid she'll reappear; that would be a tragedy!

While admiring Qi Baishi's paintings in the long corridor of the Poly Theatre's oil painting and traditional Chinese painting exhibition area, Liszt, who was filming a movie in the Netherlands, had arranged to meet here. He arrived, looking heartbroken. In the land of tulips, one should have the demeanor of a tulip. Zhang Sheng understood her hypocritical act of viciousness in the elevator. Could a woman who seeks validation from her wicked friends possibly be a good girl? Her eyes were full of hostility and contempt—what hatred was in them?

"Let's break up then! You did nothing wrong,"

Zhang Sheng, at this moment, felt a touch of schadenfreude, as if settling a personal score, and offered some words of comfort to the aspiring, yet-to-be-famous director before him.

"She posted a lot of disgusting things on my WeChat Moments."

Your friend is still your friend.

"She even called and said I was a girl who went out and played around,"

That's precisely where your charm lies.

"But I didn't do any casual sex. I do meet a lot of pretty girls at work, but that's my job. I swear to God, I never had any romantic feelings for them. I don't go to prostitutes, and I have no entertainment whatsoever,"