madnovel Chapter 74, Daily Life
Chapter 74, Daily Life
In the corridor, Yangyang Jin was already waiting.
She was wearing a white short-sleeved shirt and had her hair tied in a low ponytail, looking capable and neat.
He was carrying a black suitcase, and there was another one at his feet.
When she saw Gao Huan come out, she looked him up and down.
"Huan-ge, what happened to your lips?"
Gao Huan touched it subconsciously.
"From mosquito bites."
Yangyang Jin glanced at him, her lips twitched, and she didn't ask any more questions.
Driver Wang Fugui was waiting in B1. The black Mercedes-Benz van was already running, with the air conditioning on, making the interior several degrees cooler than the corridor.
Gao Huan got into the car, leaned back in his seat, and closed his eyes.
Yangyang Jin sat in the passenger seat, fastened her seatbelt, and glanced back at him.
"The coordination with Bangkok has been confirmed."
The Thai language teacher's surname is Lin. She has been teaching Chinese in Bangkok for eight years and is fluent in both Thai and Chinese.
The martial arts coach is a retired soldier from China, surnamed Zhao. He previously trained several action actors and gave them very positive feedback.
"Um."
"The hotel is near the Mekong River, a 20-minute drive from the film set. You'll have a suite by yourself, and Brother Zhao and I will stay next to you."
"Um."
"There's one more thing," Yangyang Jin paused, "Nazha called me last night."
Gao Huan opened his eyes.
"She asked me where I was, and I said I was in Shanghai recording a program. She said she understood and then hung up."
Yangyang Jin glanced at his expression in the rearview mirror. "Is she going to talk to you? You should eat right next to her."
Gao Huan didn't speak and closed his eyes again.
Yangyang Jin sighed, turned away, and didn't ask any more questions.
The car drove out of the hotel, turned onto the Yan'an Elevated Road, and headed towards Hongqiao Airport.
In Shanghai in May, the sun is not too strong, and the leaves of the plane trees sway gently in the breeze.
Gao Huan leaned back in his seat, mentally reviewing his tasks for the day: airport, check-in, security check, boarding, a five-hour flight, landing and going to the hotel, and starting Thai language classes and special training the next day.
He went through all these things in his mind to make sure nothing was missing, and then shifted his attention to sign language.
He silently gestured the name with his fingers on his knee.
……
Hongqiao Airport Terminal 2.
Wearing a mask and a baseball cap, Gao Huan entered the waiting room through the VIP channel.
Yangyang Jin went to check in. He found a corner seat, took out his phone, and sat down.
There are several unread messages on WeChat.
Naza posted a selfie of herself working out and having lunch, captioned, "I was good today, working out and having a nutritious meal."
He replied with four words: "Drink more warm water."
Because her period had just ended.
Meng Ziyi sent a voice message, which he didn't open, but replied with an "Mm".
Chen Duling sent a photo of her cat sunbathing on the windowsill, with the caption "It misses you."
Gao Huan looked at the photo of the cat, a slight smile playing on his lips, and replied with two words: "Petting."
Liu Shishi posted a message with only one sentence: "I asked my friend about the sentence you mentioned, and she told me."
Gao Huan stared at the line of text, his finger pausing on the screen for a moment.
Then she sent another message: "I'll tell you in person when you come back."
Gao Huan typed two words, thought for a moment, deleted them, typed two more words, and deleted them again.
Finally, he replied with two words: "Okay."
Lock the screen and put the phone in your pocket.
Yangyang Jin walked over with the boarding pass and handed it to him. "Brother Huan, you can board now."
Gao Huan stood up, took the boarding pass, and walked towards the boarding gate.
……
The weather in Bangkok is much hotter than in Shanghai.
As Gao Huan stepped out of the airport, a wave of heat hit him, and the air was filled with a humid smell unique to the tropics, mixed with car exhaust and the fragrance of unknown flowers.
The black T-shirt he wore in China stuck to his body after standing outside for less than two minutes.
The person who picked me up at the airport was a Thai man in his early thirties with tanned skin, wearing a floral shirt and holding a sign that read "Gao Huan".
He introduced himself in heavily accented Thai Chinese, saying his name was Anucha and that he was the local coordinator arranged by the production team. He would be responsible for Gao Huan's travel and communication in Bangkok for the next few days.
The car was a black Toyota Fortuner SUV, with a large interior space and the air conditioning was on full blast.
Gao Huan got into the car, Anucha sat in the passenger seat, and Yangyangjin sat next to him.
The driver and bodyguards sat in the middle row in front of them.
As the car drove out of the airport and onto the highway, the scenery on both sides changed from the modern buildings of the airport to low-rise houses, then from houses to vast farmlands, and then from farmlands to the edge of the city.
Bangkok's traffic jams are world-famous.
They were stuck in traffic on the highway for almost an hour, and by the time they arrived at the hotel, it was almost dark.
The hotel is near the Mekong River; it's not too luxurious, but it's clean and quiet.
Gao Huan lived in a suite with a living room, bedroom, study, and bathroom; the space was very large.
Wang Fugui checked the room for him to make sure there was nothing there before putting down the suitcase, saying "Get some rest," and leaving with the door closed.
Gao Huan took a shower, changed into clean clothes, and sat down at his desk.
He took out his laptop, opened a Thai language teaching video, turned the volume down, put on his headphones, and started practicing.
Thai has five tones: middle, low, falling, high, and rising. These are difficult for beginners to distinguish and even more difficult to pronounce.
Gao Huan's tone was so accurate that it didn't sound like that of a beginner.
His tongue and throat coordination was enhanced to the millimeter, with each tone falling precisely where it should, no more, no less.
He practiced for an hour, then switched to a sign language instruction video and practiced for another hour.
Bangkok outside the window is more lively at night than during the day.
Occasionally, a tourist boat passes by on the Mekong River, its lights scattering in fragments on the water's surface.
The lights were on in the distant high-rise buildings, and motorcycles roared through the nearby streets.
The sounds of the city blend together like a symphony without sheet music.
Gao Huan stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the Mekong River in the distance.
A boat slowly sailed across the river, its lanterns swaying in the wind like a star floating on the water.
He recalled what Liu Shishi had said earlier that day.
"K-sister might know."
Cai Yinong is not stupid.
She's been in the entertainment industry for so many years, she's seen it all.
A popular male actor specifically requests to act opposite a female actor, and openly says at a dinner party that he "wants to work with Chen Yao," so she can't help but notice.
She called Liu Shishi and Gulnazar together to talk about Gao Huan, which could also be considered a test.
To test Liu Shishi's reaction, to test Nazha's reaction, and to test just how deep the waters ran between them.
Gao Huan tapped lightly twice on the window frame with his fingers.
As for Cai Yinong, she might actually be happy to see Liu Shishi and Chen Yao involved with her. As for Nazha, the two of them have been dating since after the college entrance examination, and she can't control them at all.
He turned around, went back to his desk, and continued practicing sign language.
……
The Thai language teacher arrived early the next morning.
Her surname is Lin, she is in her early forties, and she has been teaching Chinese in Bangkok for eight years. She speaks both Thai and Chinese fluently.
Wearing a white short-sleeved shirt, dark trousers, and her hair tied in a low ponytail, she looked more like a company executive than a language teacher.
Her teaching methods were also different from those of teachers in China. She didn't make Gao Huan memorize words, but instead had him speak them directly.
"You said it's okay to be wrong. If you don't speak up, you'll never learn."
Gao Huan's first sentence in Thai was fairly standard.
"Your tongue is very flexible," Teacher Lin said. "The biggest problem for people learning Thai is that they can't curl their tongues. Your tongue is very different."
Gao Huan remained silent.
His tongue, enhanced by the system, was indeed different from that of an ordinary person, becoming extremely precise and agile.
The beginning and end of each syllable are under the precise control of his brain, with an error measured in milliseconds.
After the Thai language class in the morning, the afternoon was dedicated to physical training.
Brother Zhao is here.
He was around forty years old and less than 1.75 meters tall, but he stood there like a solid wall.
He has broad shoulders, a thick back, and the muscles and scars on his arms look extremely powerful.
He was wearing a black, tight-fitting sportswear outfit with the collar pulled up high, covering half of his neck.
Gao Huan noticed that there were thick calluses on his knuckles and the area between his thumb and forefinger.
"Brother Zhao." Gao Huan walked over and extended his hand.
Brother Zhao grasped his hand, not with much force, but with a very real grip.
"Boss Lin mentioned you to me, saying you have excellent physical fitness."
"good."
"Is it okay or not?" Brother Zhao asked, looking at him.
Gao Huan thought for a moment.
"OK."
Brother Zhao smiled briefly, the smile lasting less than a second at the corner of his mouth.
"Okay, let's get started. Run five kilometers first, let me see your fitness level."
Gao Huan had already changed into sportswear, and the group left their hotel room and went to the gym.
After running five kilometers, Gao Huan's breathing was extremely steady, and there was hardly any sweat on his forehead.
Brother Zhao glanced at him, nodded, got off the motorcycle, and handed him a bottle of water.
"Your foundation is indeed quite good. What kind of training have you had before?"
"I've practiced boxing and Muay Thai to some extent."
Have you ever actually fought one?
Gao Huan thought for a moment.
"I've fought with them."
"With whom?"
"coach."
Brother Zhao glanced at him but didn't ask any further questions.
"Okay, then we won't start the training from scratch. Your core strength is good, and your limb coordination is also good."
He stood in front of Gao Huan with his feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, and upper body leaning slightly forward, looking like a leopard poised to pounce.
"Look at my waist," he said. "In military boxing or combat, most of the power comes from the waist. The waist turns, the shoulder follows, the arm follows, and the punch comes out. These four movements are a whole and cannot be separated."
He threw a punch.
The speed wasn't fast, but the sound of air being blasted was dull and short, like someone punching a drum.
"Come here." Brother Zhao withdrew his fist and took a step back.
Gao Huan punched him in the same way he had done.
"Again."
Gao Huan threw another punch.
This time, the waist turned, but the shoulders followed too quickly. The power of the arms and the power of the body were not in sync, and the punch lacked penetration.
"Again."
On the fifth punch, Brother Zhao called for a stop again.
Gao Huan closed his eyes, mentally reviewed the sequence of waist rotation, shoulder follow-up, arm follow-up, and punch, then opened his eyes and threw a punch.
The sound of the air being blasted wasn't as muffled and short as Brother Zhao's, but it was close.
Brother Zhao looked at him, paused for two seconds, and then said, "Of all the actors I've ever mentored, you're the fastest learner."
He kept punching. One punch, then another, and yet another.
Sweat slid down his forehead, down his nose, down his chin, and dripped onto the ground.
The front and back of the T-shirt were soaked through, clinging to the body and outlining the lines of the shoulders and back.
Brother Zhao stood to the side, arms crossed, watching. He would occasionally say something like, "Waist faster," "Don't wait with your hands," or "Breathe," but he remained silent most of the time.
He knew that some people didn't need guidance, they just needed someone to watch over them.
Gao Huan was that kind of person.
……
On the second night after arriving in Bangkok, Gao Huan returned to the hotel from the firearms training center, took a shower, changed into his pajamas, and sat down at his desk.
On the laptop screen, the sign language teaching video has already played up to lesson seventeen.
He turned down the volume and followed the teacher's gestures, once, twice, three times.
Doorbell rang.
He didn't open the door immediately, but instead walked to the doorway and peeked through the peephole.
Naza stood in the corridor, wearing a white dress, her hair down, and with no makeup on.
She carried a small, white suitcase, its wheels still dusty from the airport. Her expression was calm; she neither smiled nor frowned. She simply stood at the door, waiting, like someone who had waited a long time and finally received something.
Gao Huan opened the door.
The moment Nazha saw him, her eyes welled up with tears.
She didn't cry, but her eyes reddened very quickly, turning from normal skin tone to red in less than a second.
"How did you get here so quickly?" Gao Huan asked.
"I miss you," she said, her voice a little hoarse.
Gao Huan stepped aside to let her in.
She carried her suitcase into the room, didn't change her shoes, went straight to the sofa, laid the suitcase down, opened it, and took out a folded T-shirt from it. It was his, black, which she had taken from his apartment.
She put the T-shirt on the sofa, then turned around and looked at him.
"You've lost weight," she said.
"no."
"You've lost weight."
Naza walked over, stood in front of him, tiptoed, and reached out to touch his face, her fingers sliding from his cheekbone to his chin. "Here, it's a bit sunken."
Gao Huan remained silent.
Her fingers lingered on his face for a long time.
Then her hand slid down to his shoulder, paused, and then slid down to his arm.
Her fingers pressed against a bluish-purple bruise on the inside of his forearm, a mark left from a heavy blow he had blocked during combat training. It wasn't big, but it was dark in color.
She stared at the bruise for two seconds, her eyes reddening even more.
Then she yanked up the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it up to his chest.
His abs and V-line are still there, but there's a dark red abrasion on his side, from yesterday's ground technique practice on the mat.
There are several old wounds on his shoulder that have turned bluish-yellow; those were left from even earlier.
Naza's hand stopped next to the abrasion on his side, her fingertips not touching it, just hovering half a centimeter above the wound, as if she was hesitating whether to touch it or not.
"You didn't have these before," she said softly.
"It's necessary for training," Gao Huan said.
"Does acting require dressing like this?"
"Um."
Naza stared at him for two seconds, then put his T-shirt down, took a step back, and took a deep breath.
"Okay, then you practice. I'll practice with you."