sinovels Chapter 7 Advance Payment
Chapter 7 Advance Payment
Ota Office in Shibuya.
"You've got some skills, kid."
The agent, Ota, sat in the slightly wobbly office chair, a cigarette burning almost to his fingers between his fingers, squinting as he sized up Kitahara Shin sitting opposite him.
He exhaled a smoke ring, took a thick envelope from the drawer, and tapped it on the table.
"The producer from TBS just called me and said that although the drama is still being filmed, considering that your performance 'far exceeded expectations,' they have made a special exception and can advance part of your salary."
Ota pushed the envelope in front of Kitahara Shin, his tone revealing a hint of undisguised surprise. "I've mentored quite a few newcomers, but you're the first one who's managed to get those stingy TV station accountants to pay upfront."
Kitahara Shin reached out and took the envelope.
He didn't rush to open it, but the thickness he felt at his fingertips already told him the answer.
Two hundred thousand yen.
In this extravagant bubble economy, this amount of money might only be enough to buy half a bottle of whiskey in Ginza, or a round-trip taxi ride in Roppongi.
But for Kitahara Shin at this moment, it was not just about money; it was about the dignity of survival.
"According to the contract, this was supposed to be the final payment that we would receive after filming wrapped up." Da Tian flicked his cigarette ash.
"Thank you for your trouble, Mr. Ota."
Kitahara Shin bowed slightly and carefully put the envelope into his inner jacket pocket.
"Act well." Da Tian looked at the overly composed young man and said seriously, "I have a feeling that this 200,000 yuan salary may only be the beginning."
……
As I walked out of the office, a light, cold rain began to fall.
Tokyo in late autumn is damp and chilly to the bone.
Kitahara Shin tightened his somewhat thin trench coat and placed his hand on his chest.
There, the sharp edges of the envelope pressed against my ribs, yet they conveyed an unprecedented warmth.
Instead of going straight back to his dilapidated apartment in Nerima Ward, he turned around and walked into a large electronics store.
The store was brightly lit, and the TV wall was playing the music video for Seiko Matsuda's latest single. There was a lot of noisy promotional noise everywhere.
Kitahara Shin walked straight to the heating equipment area.
That old, six-story apartment was so cold.
The windows are drafty, the blankets are damp, and every morning when I wake up, the tip of my nose is icy cold.
He's really been terrified of the cold these past few days.
"Sir, are you looking for a space heater? This is Mitsubishi's latest model, quiet and heats up quickly..."
The sales assistant greeted us warmly.
"I'll take this one."
Kitahara Shin pointed to a ceramic heater priced at 18,000 yen without the slightest hesitation.
In the past, he would spend half an hour lingering in the discount section of the supermarket to save a few hundred yen. But today, he didn't even glance at the cheaper, older model next to him.
He quickly counted out two 10,000-yuan bills and handed them over, watching the sales assistant give him change and pack the package.
As Kitahara Shin walked out of the store carrying the brand-new heater, he felt that the rain around him didn't seem so cold anymore.
Next up is the supermarket.
It was already 7 p.m., the time when housewives would rush to buy ingredients for dinner.
Kitahara Shin pushed his shopping cart, ignoring the cheap bean sprouts and discounted chicken breasts, and stopped directly in front of the refrigerated meat display case.
Even during the bubble economy, Wagyu beef remained synonymous with high price.
He picked up a box of Wagyu beef steak with a yellow label that read "Best Before Tonight".
Although it was a discounted item nearing its expiration date, its snowflake-like texture was still clear and alluring, and its fat was as white as jade.
"30% OFF".
Even after the discount, this small piece of meat costs 2,500 yen.
Kitahara Shin stared at the piece of meat for two seconds, then put it in his shopping cart. Next, he grabbed a box of Hokkaido butter that he usually wouldn't buy, a bag of Niigata Koshihikari rice, and a bottle of not-too-expensive red wine to go with the meal.
As he checked out, a sense of satisfaction shone in his eyes as he looked at the numbers displayed on the cash register.
……
Back to my apartment in Nerima Ward.
It was still that narrow, cramped room, still with that musty, musty smell.
But tonight is different.
Kitahara Shin unpacked the newly purchased heater and plugged it in.
"Buzz—"
With a slight whirring sound, a wave of heat quickly surged out.
In less than ten minutes, the originally cold room was filled with warmth. He took off his heavy trench coat and didn't feel cold even wearing only a shirt.
He rolled up his sleeves and walked into the makeshift kitchen, which was only one square meter in size.
Heat a frying pan and cut off a small piece of butter and put it in.
"Sizzle—"
The butter melted at the bottom of the pot, releasing a rich, milky aroma.
The Wagyu beef steak with its beautiful marbling was gently placed into the pot.
The high temperature instantly locked in the meat juices, and the wonderful sound of the fat caramelizing echoed in the quiet room—the most beautiful sound in the world.
No complicated seasonings are needed, just a little sea salt and black pepper.
Five minutes later.
Kitahara Shin sat at the only low table.
A heater was blowing warm air at my feet, and in front of me was a sizzling steak, a bowl of glistening white rice, and a glass of red wine.
He picked up a piece of beef and put it in his mouth.
The rich, juicy flavor of the meat, mixed with the aroma of the fat, explodes on the tongue; it's so tender that it hardly needs any chewing.
Kitahara Shin closed his eyes and chewed slowly.
He began to recall his past life as an extra in Hengdian, where he would wait in the snow in winter until his hands and feet were numb from the cold while waiting for a shot, and after work he could only eat cold boxed lunches.
That memory of hunger and cold is etched into my very bones.
And now.
The room was warm, my stomach was warm, and my pockets were warm.
He took a sip of red wine and let out a long sigh of relief.
"This is what it means to be alive."
The tangible warmth and fullness made him truly feel that he had taken his first root in this unfamiliar era.
He is no longer that drifting ghost, but someone who can make a living through acting.
In that pleasant moment, a glimmer of light suddenly flashed in my mind.
[System Prompt]
[A significant increase in the host's mental and physical well-being has been detected.]
Only those who understand the warmth of life can truly portray the coldness within a story.
The compatibility of the "Silver Zippo Abandoned by the Songstress" equipment has been increased to 15%.
[Passive effect tweak: When you are in a relaxed state, your "melancholy" will transform into a more attractive "relaxation".]
Kitahara Shin put down his glass, took out a Zippo from his pocket, and fiddled with it in his hand for a moment.
The silver fuselage, bathed in warm yellow light, no longer appeared so cold and lonely.
"A feeling of relaxation...?"
He smiled and put the last piece of beef into his mouth.