In the following days, the band's rehearsal entered a stage of mechanized repetition. By day, Lin Feng, acting as a guitar machine with no emotions, accurately coordinated with everyone to grind out "Carving the Boat"; late at night, he would hide in the dormitory like a thief, continuing to cultivate that "Vocal Dao" which made his shame level explode off the charts.
During this period, Lin Feng specially paid attention to WeChat.
Shen Linyin's avatar, which used to flash non-stop in the past, had actually quieted down miraculously these few days. There wasn't even a single message about "I want to see you" or "Ren Yichen made me angry again."
Lin Feng clicked open the system panel and swept a glance at that value which kept him on tenterhooks.
[Shen Linyin: 51 (Confused)]
"Confused... is a good thing, right?" Lin Feng muttered in his heart. "Does this mean the talk about 'sense of boundaries' that day worked? She finally realized that treating her boyfriend's brother as a tree hole is immoral?"
Or could it be that the System's so-called "Eternal Padlock" finally had a BUG?
"System, are you sure this thing isn't broken? It won't hold back and release a big one when the time comes, right?"
[Ding! Please do not make groundless accusations. This System's products must be high quality; the concept of 'malfunction' does not exist. The System is very sensitive, please conduct yourself with dignity.]
Lin Feng: "..."
Fine, this System is not only a pit, but also has a glass heart.
...
Finally, the day to scout the spot at "Gear" Livehouse arrived.
Everyone agreed to meet at the subway entrance near the venue. It was a weekend afternoon, and the sun was bright and beautiful. Lu Mingxuan rarely wore a clean white T-shirt; the whole person looked like a sunny school hunk who just got out of class, completely showing no sign of that dementia-like appearance where usually only half his soul was online.
However, this beautiful painting style completely collapsed the moment Ren Yichen appeared.
When that figure slowly rose from the subway escalator, Lin Feng felt his heart, which had undergone "facial paralysis special training," skip a beat.
He saw Ren Yichen wearing a cheap leather jacket full of studs, his lower body wearing tight black pants with so many holes they almost couldn't cover his flesh, and his face hanging with a few magnetic fake lip rings bought from who knows where. The most outrageous thing was his head—he actually wore a silver-grey wig, with bangs so long they almost covered half his face.
If one didn't look at the face, this was a noble who had just traveled back from the Shamate "Zang Ai Family" of twenty years ago.
"Ka-cha."
Lin Feng seemed to hear the sound of something shattering.
He turned his head to look, only to see Lu Mingxuan, originally in "Sunny Big Boy" mode, currently opening his mouth in a daze. The luster in his eyes instantly dissipated. The whole person seemed to be forcibly formatted, instantly degenerating back to that "obsidian" autistic state where he only knew how to play bass.
Obviously, the mental impact caused by Ren Yichen's outfit directly fried his CPU.
While standing to the side, Shen Linyin was currently covering her forehead with her hand, wearing an expression of "I want to die." Her cool and high-class face was written full of helplessness, as if saying: I tried my best to stop it, but this idiot simply wouldn't listen.
"Hey! Everyone!" Ren Yichen, however, completely failed to detect the weirdness of the atmosphere. He flipped that wig, striking a rock hand gesture he thought was very cool. "How is it? Is this outfit 'underground' enough? Punk enough? This is a battle robe I specifically procured to match the temperament of 'Gear'!"
Lin Feng took a deep breath, trying hard to maintain the stiffness of his facial muscles, and did not speak.
Shen Linyin sighed, speaking somewhat weakly: "Let's go... don't block the subway entrance."
The group began to march toward "Gear" Livehouse.
On this bustling commercial street, an extremely weird scene appeared.
Ren Yichen took the lead, head high and chest out, walking at the very front. He strode with a pace that disowned his own family, the metal chains on the leather jacket clattering with his movements, feeling he was the most beautiful rock superstar on this street.
While Lin Feng, Shen Linyin, and the already crashed Lu Mingxuan slowed their steps with great tacit understanding.
One step, two steps, three steps.
The distance between them and Ren Yichen widened from two meters to five meters, then from five meters to ten meters.
Lin Feng put his hands in his pockets, looking at roadside billboards, pretending he was just a passerby; Shen Linyin lowered her head to look at her phone, as if handling some urgent official business; Lu Mingxuan maintained a uniform linear motion, staring into the void ahead with hollow eyes.
Although the three had no eye contact, at this moment, their brainwaves achieved a high degree of consistency:
As long as we walk slowly enough, no one will know we know that non-mainstream person in front.
The group of people pushed open "Gear's" heavy soundproof door.
The decoration style here was just like its name, filled with the aura of an industrial wasteland. Exposed pipes, mottled cement walls, and also the smell of aged tobacco mixed with cheap beer permeating the air.
The proprietress was a woman in her early thirties, possessing complex totems tattooed on her arms, holding a slender lady's cigarette in her hand. Hearing the movement, she lazily raised her head.
Ren Yichen immediately shook the chains on his body, stuck out his chest, attempting to use that set of "meticulously matched" battle robes to attract the proprietress's attention, establishing his status as the band's soul figure.
However, the proprietress's line of sight was just like a scanner, skipping over this flamboyant turkey without any pause, and directly freezing on Lin Feng at the very back.
She narrowed her eyes, sized him up and down for a bit, spat out a smoke ring, and revealed a satisfied expression.
"This look in the eyes... that kind of world-weariness as if completely disappointed in the world, or even wanting to destroy everything," the proprietress pointed at Lin Feng, turning her head to say to the bartender behind her, "Too authentic. This lifeless temperament completely conforms to our 'Gear's' values."
Lin Feng: "?"
He really wanted to explain, this was purely due to practicing "dolphin sounds" until experiencing hypoxia last night, added to the result of his heart turning to dead ash after seeing Ren Yichen's outfit today.
"That..."
From the side came a voice without any undulations.
Lu Mingxuan did not know when he had already turned on the brain's automatic chroma keying function. On his retina, that eyesore existence of Ren Yichen had already been automatically painted into a green screen by the brain, directly filled in by the background. His two eyes looked straight at the proprietress, as if there was simply not a person standing in the middle:
"Is the usual passenger flow volume here just this scale?"
Ren Yichen was currently standing between the two people posing; seeing Lu Mingxuan's line of sight passing straight through his own shoulder, he could not help but freeze for a moment.
The proprietress shook her head: "Today is Thursday afternoon, surely there are no people. Although your performance tomorrow is in the afternoon session, not the golden slot at night, but after all it is the weekend, there will be quite a few more people than now."
Speaking of "people," a few regular customers scattered sparsely in the booths finally noticed this newly arrived band.
To be precise, they noticed Ren Yichen.
In that instant, the air seemed to congeal.
A few big brothers wearing Mohawk hairstyles and girls wearing smoky makeup looked at Ren Yichen with eyes like they saw some kind of ghost that traveled through time and space. That was three parts shock, three parts doubt, and four parts... unspeakable nostalgia.
In this current era where underground rock is all pursuing minimalism and post-punk, unexpectedly there is still someone daring to wear this kind of "Visual Kei" style that swept through the urban-rural fringe twenty years ago?
What is this? This is retro!
This is a silent rebellion against the current non-mainstream mainstream aesthetics!
Ren Yichen was originally looked at until he felt a bit creeped out, but immediately following, he discovered there was no mockery in those eyes.
A big brother similarly supporting an explosion head, only with slightly sparser hair volume, stood up. He walked in front of Ren Yichen, gazing affectionately at Ren Yichen's head of silver-gray wig sufficient to cover half the world.
No words.
The big brother extended a rough big hand, heavily patted Ren Yichen's shoulder, and then raised a thumb.
"Brother, the flavor is too authentic. The Zang Ai Family will never be slaves."
Ren Yichen was moved to brimming tears, and forcefully shook the other party's arm in return.
Lin Feng stood to the side, looking at this magical scene, silently put on his hoodie's hood, and pulled the drawstrings tight.
He felt that Lu Mingxuan's "chroma keying technology" was very necessary to promote a bit; he also wanted to delete this scene before his eyes from his brain.