Chapter 24: The Little Child Star

"Pfft!" Huang Guokun burst out laughing, amused by Huang Tao’s antics. He chuckled, “Kid, why are you always reading these silly jokes?”
“I’m not always reading them! You asked me to tell you a joke that would make you laugh. I don’t think this joke is funny at all. I don’t get why adults love stories about Old Wang next door. If I tell you jokes from our little circle, you won’t laugh—you’ll say I’m childish.”
Like a little grown-up, Huang Tao said calmly, “Uncle, you promised. You laughed, so you have to buy me two ice creams. Hey, hey! Over there, that McDonald’s—pull over!”
Huang Guokun kept his word, never deceiving children. He parked by the curb and turned to Huang Tao, “Sit tight in the car and don’t mess around. I’ll go get your ice cream.”
“Don’t go alone, Uncle! Take me with you. I love the smell of burgers at McDonald’s!”
“You don’t just like the smell—you want me to buy you a burger too, right?”
“Hehe, I didn’t eat enough this morning.” Huang Tao rubbed his round belly with a mischievous grin.
“If you eat a burger now, will you still eat lunch when we get home?”
“Don’t worry, Uncle! My dad always says my belly is a bottomless pit. As long as it’s tasty, I can eat as much as I want.” Huang Tao pleaded, “Uncle, I’m really hungry. I’m growing right now—I can’t stand not eating. Please buy me a burger.”
“Sigh, all right, I’ll get you a small burger. But don’t tell your dad I bought you so much food, or he’ll scold me again.”
“I won’t tell him! Uncle, you’re the best! You’re my hero!”
“Hero?”
“You’re my hero!”
“Geez, what kind of English do they teach at your kindergarten? Why does it sound like you’re from Zhumadian?”
Huang Guokun got out and freed Huang Tao from the child safety seat. He didn’t let Dudu come along; the uncle and nephew swaggered toward McDonald’s.
On the way, in high spirits, Huang Tao decided to tell another joke to please Huang Guokun. “Uncle, let me tell you a Jay Chou joke.”
“Go ahead, I’m listening.” Knowing his nephew was a chatterbox, Huang Guokun never discouraged his love of talking.
Huang Tao launched into the story with dramatic flair: “So, it was a pitch-black, windy night. Jay Chou finished singing at a restaurant and was walking home. Suddenly, he kicked something—it was a magic lamp.
A cold and aloof genie flew out and told Jay: ‘Mortal, I can grant you three wishes.’
Jay was so excited, he shouted, ‘Awesome!’
A flash of white light, and Jay was rolling on the ground, clutching his pants in agony...
He cried out, ‘Genie, restore me!’
Another flash, and Jay stood back up.
He looked down at himself, perfectly intact, and yelled again, ‘Awesome!’
Another flash, and the magic lamp vanished...”
Huang Guokun laughed at Huang Tao’s adorable tone. “Haha, Jay Chou really is silly.”
“‘Awesome’ is his catchphrase,” Huang Tao explained, worried his uncle wouldn’t understand.
“You’re pretty interested in Jay Chou.”
“Because my dad is also called Lun—they’re both from the Lun generation. I pay attention to everyone named Lun.”
Huang Guokun felt a warmth in his heart. So little Huang Tao cared so much about Huang Guolun.
Feeling cheerful after Huang Tao’s stories, Huang Guokun ruffled the boy’s hair and led him into McDonald’s.
“What kind of burger do you want?” At the counter, Huang Guokun asked.
“A double cod burger! Kids who eat cod are smart—I want to get smarter!”
“You’re already smart enough, don’t get any smarter, haha.”
Huang Guokun turned to the server and ordered two ice cream cones and a double cod burger.
Huang Tao tugged at his uncle’s sleeve, grinning up with his chubby face and drooling. “Uncle, since we’re getting a burger, aren’t you going to add fries for me?”
“You’re pushing your luck now,” Huang Guokun laughed, gently scolding him.
Picking at his pudgy fingers, Huang Tao suddenly looked very aggrieved. “Actually, I just feel sorry for the fries.”
“Feel sorry for fries? Why?” Huang Guokun couldn’t follow his train of thought.
“The fries’ bodies are chopped up, struggling in a hellish hot oil bath. Even as they go limp, they persevere just to hear a customer say, ‘Tastes good.’ But once they’re left over, they’re immediately thrown away. What kind of life is that? They’re so pitiful!”
His words left the cashier and nearby customers stunned. Everyone turned to look.
Feeling awkward under all the stares, Huang Guokun stopped Huang Tao from saying more. “Fine, I’ll get you fries! Just stop with the speeches!”
“Hehe, I want two servings.”
Huang Tao broke into a smile, holding up two chubby fingers, his whole face radiating cute triumph.
A few minutes later, Huang Tao came out of McDonald’s cradling a heap of delicious food.
Suddenly, he spotted a watermelon stand across the street.
“Uncle, are you thirsty? Do you want watermelon?”
“I’m not thirsty, and I don’t want watermelon.”
“But I do.” Huang Tao began pestering Huang Guokun: “This must be the last batch of watermelons this year, selling by the roadside. If we don’t buy them, they’ll go to waste. Uncle, Grandpa always teaches us not to waste food.”
Huang Guokun was speechless. He’d already bought so much for Huang Tao and really didn’t want to buy watermelon too—not because of the money, but because he worried the boy wouldn’t eat a proper lunch after all these snacks.
So he said, “Nowadays, watermelon is available all year round. Those sold by the roadside are usually not sweet. If you want watermelon, wait until after lunch at home and I’ll take you to the supermarket for premium sweet watermelon.”
“Okay! We’ll buy premium sweet watermelon this afternoon! But now, let’s buy one of these, even if we don’t know if it’s sweet. My dad once taught me a profound life lesson while buying watermelon. He said life is like buying watermelon—the unknown is the most exciting. We should be bold and try, not timid and worry about sweetness. If it turns out sweet, you’ll feel happy and satisfied. If not, at least you were brave. If you don’t buy it because you’re afraid it won’t be sweet, you’re not just missing out on watermelon—you’re losing the confidence to make choices in life.”
“Your dad told you that?” Huang Guokun was surprised.
“Hehe, you saw through me. Actually, I learned it from TV and told it to my dad. After I finished, he immediately bought watermelon—he didn’t want to lose confidence in life choices over a watermelon. What about you, Uncle? ... Hey, Uncle! Don’t run across the road so fast! Watch out for cars!”
Huang Guokun was completely won over by Huang Tao. Without another word, he dashed across the street to buy watermelon for him.
Meanwhile, Huang Tao happily walked toward the car.
Suddenly, a ragged middle-aged beggar approached him.
Influenced by his family environment, Huang Tao liked helping others.
He frowned with his bushy little brows and locked eyes with the beggar.
The beggar saw Huang Tao holding freshly made burgers and fries and immediately put on a pitiful act, “Little friend, can you spare some food? I can’t even remember the last time I had a full meal.”
Huang Tao noticed a greasy sheen around the beggar’s mouth—he seemed to have just eaten a burger, but Huang Tao wasn’t sure.
He sniffed the burger, then the fries, his chubby face twisted in indecision.
Finally, he sighed sadly and comforted the beggar warmly, “Sir, don’t worry. If you think hard, you’ll remember the last time you ate your fill. Good luck! Goodbye!”
With that, he dashed off, leaving the beggar stunned, and hopped back to the car, savoring his feast.
Huang Guokun returned to the car with the watermelon, secured Huang Tao in the child seat, handed him the melon, and said, “Kid, it’s a pity you’re not a child star!”
Huang Tao licked the ice cream off his fingers and asked, “What’s a child star?”
Back in the driver’s seat, Huang Guokun explained as he started the car, “A child star is a little celebrity on TV. If you became one, everyone would like you.”
Huang Tao licked his new ice cream with smug delight. “Even if I’m not a child star, everyone likes me.”
“That’s true. But if you become one, lots of uncles, aunts, brothers, and sisters will treat you to tasty things.”
“Really?”
“Of course! When have I ever lied to you?”
“If I became a child star, would someone treat me to ice cream every day?”
“Ice cream is nothing—every delicious food you can think of, someone will treat you to it!”
“I—I want to be a child star!” Like discovering a new world of food, Huang Tao suddenly became excited, startling Dudu beside him.
“You can’t just say you want to be a child star and become one. First, your dad has to agree. If he agrees, you can be one; if not, you can’t.”
“Why wouldn’t my dad let me be a child star?”
“You’ll have to ask him. If you were my son, I’d definitely let you be one.”
“I’m your son, Dad!”
Huang Guokun laughed, “Calling me Dad won’t help. You have to beg your real father. If he agrees, I’ll use every ounce of strength to make you the most famous child star in China! No, the most famous in Asia!”
“Yeah! I want to be Asia’s most famous child star!” Huang Tao swallowed his ice cream and asked, “Uncle, if I become Asia’s most famous child star, does that mean I can eat all the foods from every Asian country?”
“Absolutely!”
“Awesome!”
Huang Tao’s drool splattered on the seatback as he excitedly recalled, “This Spring Festival, my dad and grandma took me to Singapore, Malaysia, and Thailand, and I loved all the food! And the dorayaki we had in Sapporo, the sushi in Otaru—I really want to eat them again! Uncle, I want to be the most famous child star in Asia! No, on Earth! I want to eat all the delicious foods in the world!”
“Good, ambitious! But you’ll have to get past your dad first.”
“I’ll beg him as soon as I get home! I must be a child star! If he won’t let me, I’ll wet the bed every day!”
“Haha, that’s a good move. But don’t tell him I encouraged you to be a child star. If he knows I put you up to it, he’ll refuse. Just say it’s your own idea, your dream. Pretend it’s your dream.”
“I don’t need to pretend—it is my dream! My dream is to eat all the food in the world!”
“Haha, great! I’ll be waiting for your victory report.”
“Jaguar? I don’t have a Jaguar. Uncle, are you switching cars? I think Range Rover looks better than Jaguar.”
“Geez, your mind really works differently from everyone else.”
With the seed of becoming a child star planted by Huang Guokun, Huang Tao was in a wonderful mood.
Nibbling fries and licking his fingers, he told Huang Guokun another joke.
This one he’d learned from Teacher Li and the principal at kindergarten.
It was something Teacher Li herself had experienced.
One morning, Teacher Li was taking the bus to work. There was an old lady on the bus. After getting off, the lady realized she’d lost her keys on the bus, but the bus had already left the stop. The old lady chased after it, shouting, “My keys are on your bus! My keys are on your bus!”
The driver, hearing this, was terrified. He floored the gas pedal and sped away, muttering to the passengers beside him, “Why did she have to die on my bus? How unlucky.”
...
Huang Guokun and Huang Tao, the uncle and nephew duo, ate and laughed their way through the slow traffic. With the Sunday city jam, it took them over an hour to reach Purple Star Mansion.
Taking the elevator upstairs, they found Huang Guolun already in the recording studio with Bai Yao, trying out “The Beautiful People.”
Though not much for movies, Bai Yao, a scholar, could always discern meaning from thoughtful films.
She understood the core theme of “Biochemical Dictatorship” very well.
After watching it, Bai Yao grasped exactly what Huang Guolun wanted her to express—a determination to destroy this rotten world together.
But unfamiliar with the sheet music, Bai Yao couldn’t learn the song herself. Huang Guolun had to record a demo for her to listen to and then teach her line by line.
At that moment, Huang Guolun was in the studio recording the demo for Bai Yao, aiming to give her a proper example, not just a casual melody.
Moved by the film, Huang Guolun didn’t hold back in the studio, rubbing his textured, world-weary, and torn voice in a wild, almost Manson-esque manner for Bai Yao’s demonstration.
Outside the studio, wearing high-end monitoring headphones and listening to Huang Guolun’s live recording, Bai Yao was completely stunned!
It was as if the world turned upside down!
Her whole reality was shaken by Huang Guolun’s wild singing.
In her mind, Teacher Huang was always genteel, as he had been that morning reading the newspaper by the window—refined and old-fashioned.
She never imagined that Huang Guolun could write such a Manson-esque piece!
Even more unimaginable was that, when singing rock, Huang Guolun became a mad uncle whose veins ran with Manson’s blood—a destroyer of worlds!