Chapter 15

“It’s a shoegaze concert, with three bands, all from the UK,” Liang Xiao explained. “It’s on the second day of the Mid-Autumn Festival holiday, and you were standing in the front row.”

Ye Ji’an immediately remembered. This event was quite vivid in his mind, after all, opportunities to go out and enjoy live music were rare for him.

Moreover, two of those three bands were ones he and Liang Xiao were both interested in.

He recalled that the venue was a small tavern west of the Temple of Heaven. He had drunk half a bottle of very bitter yet fragrant Dewar’s White Label, and the performance had started at nine in the evening, continuing until nearly midnight, followed by two or three encores. With the subway closed and taxis impossible to hail, he had taken the last bus to the suburbs, riding it to the end of the line. Afterward, he had spent a long time riding a shared bike guided by Gaode Maps, and by the time he returned to his satellite city, it felt as if dawn was breaking.

He had caught a cold for nearly half a month afterward, coughing and sniffling during meetings, which was mortifying. Who knew whether to blame it on sweating too much or being exposed to the cold wind for too long?

“What about you?” Ye Ji’an paused his recollection of his punk struggles and looked up to ask. “Were you in the front row too?”

“I was in the middle, not too far from Senior,” Liang Xiao said, pushing his cheek gently to redirect his gaze toward the stage instead of staring blankly at him. He noticed the opening band had already packed up their instruments, and a tall, thin man with long white hair walked to the center, silent, casually stepping on effects pedals with a dejected expression. Ye Ji’an recognized him as the lead singer.

One by one, the five members took the stage, all tall with long hair and dark circles under their eyes, looking disheartened. They greeted the audience with a simple “hello” and focused on tuning their instruments, showing no intention of interacting with the crowd. Ye Ji’an and Liang Xiao exchanged amused glances; this band had that lethargic vibe. If they had come out all cheerful and lively, they would have suspected they were in the wrong venue.

“That was at the end of September… you had just started your job for a little over a month!” Ye Ji’an seized the moment to say.

“Yeah, I wasn’t familiar with Senior back then,” Liang Xiao chuckled.

Ye Ji’an laughed too, already starting to sweat, and he took off his suit jacket, trying to mimic Liang Xiao by casually draping it over one shoulder. However, no matter how he tried, it felt awkward, and he even entertained the silly idea of buttoning the sleeves around his waist. “You must have been startled to run into me,” he quickly draped the jacket properly over his forearm, attempting to ease the awkwardness that no one else knew about. “Running into a colleague while out having fun, what a stroke of bad luck.”

But Liang Xiao suddenly became serious. “I was just a bit surprised. I only started paying attention to Senior from that night.”

“Paying attention,” he corrected himself.

“Was it because you saw my tattoo?” Ye Ji’an nudged his shoulder.

“Of course not,” Liang Xiao nudged him back.

“Then what was it?”

“We’ll talk about it later!” Liang Xiao refused to look at him again, turning his gaze back to the stage—suddenly, a wave of beats crashed down, and the performance began.

Ye Ji’an had once been wilder than the musicians themselves, especially during his first year of college. Even after the band left, he could still dance with a group of friends in a bar until the early hours of the morning. Even if the sound system was playing songs by Jixiang Sanbao, he could wave his arms and twist his hips, becoming the most stylish guy in the bar. This only highlighted his current decline in stamina; after six songs, which was just over half the set, he already felt he was nearing exhaustion.

People around him were jostling chaotically, with those behind pushing him forward, while those in front jumped and clapped, causing the crowd to spread out. Elbows bumped against elbows, shoulders brushed against shoulders, and with every heavy bass drop, the crowd swayed like waves. The singing sounded like a roar, like a chant, mixed with screams that erupted in his ears. Everyone was too excited, and Ye Ji’an shouted along because he was excited too, the alcohol fizzing in his mind like popping candy, but the drinks still swirled in his stomach, and a headache spread from his temples. His legs, confined in dress pants, felt unsteady, and he realized his energy was waning. The suit jacket on his forearm had long since slipped, crumpled in his grip, while his back and legs began to feel weak. Ye Ji’an still refused to accept the reality that he needed a break.

Liang Xiao, on the other hand, remained remarkably calm throughout. He neither jumped nor twisted, nor did he shout in a fit of excitement. He simply raised his hands to applaud after each song, his posture and expression dignified and elegant, as if he had just listened to an aria in a golden hall. Yet he was not incapable of appreciating the music; on the contrary, just like when he listened to CDs at home, he was fully absorbed, not even blinking, until Ye Ji’an grabbed his wrist to pull him into a pogo. Only then did he snap back to reality.

“Hey, weren’t you going to take me dancing?” Ye Ji’an’s bangs were disheveled, damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead.

Liang Xiao grasped his hand, their fingers intertwining as he lifted it into the air, quickly matching Ye Ji’an’s rhythm amidst the chaos, his gaze fixed on Ye Ji’an’s face, more intense than before, as if everything around them was fake, frozen in time, and the only thing he could see was Ye Ji’an’s face.

“Are you tired, Senior?”

“I’m fine, isn’t this song the one you said was your favorite—”

“Your complexion doesn’t look good,” Liang Xiao said, holding his waist. “You seem to lack energy.”

Ye Ji’an wanted to argue but was abruptly pulled up by Liang Xiao, who led him backward through the crowd. In the confusion, he couldn’t see clearly, only sensing that Liang Xiao exuded an air of “no-nonsense.” First, he shielded Ye Ji’an from behind, clearing a path for him, but then, feeling that wasn’t enough, he simply wrapped his arms around him, almost cradling him to ensure he could walk steadily, protecting him from the drunken, sober, jumping, and twisting crowd. Ye Ji’an felt a bit dizzy; his steps were indeed unsteady as he was led to the bar at the back. He plopped down onto a high stool, finally letting out a sigh of relief.

From a distance, he could still see the band on stage, the music still ringing in his ears, but it was quieter now, with more chatter from the surrounding people. When Ye Ji’an saw Liang Xiao sit down next to him, showing no signs of leaving, the spiciness from the alcohol in his stomach eased a bit. “Indeed,” he gently tugged at Liang Xiao’s sleeve, as if wanting to pull him a little closer, “I’m getting older.”

“It’s Senior who drank too much today.” Liang Xiao actually moved his chair closer, their knees touching. He ordered a glass of mint water with ice and pushed it in front of Ye Ji’an. “Drink a little.”

Ye Ji’an obediently sipped through the straw, the refreshing sensation calming his mind significantly. “I didn’t expect you to enjoy live shows like this; I thought you’d be wilder than I was in my twenties.”

“Do you feel like throwing up?”

“Not yet, I haven’t drunk that much. My alcohol tolerance is decent.” Ye Ji’an wanted to lean against him but ultimately refrained, simply resting his arms on the table. “Let’s take a break before diving back in.”

He felt a hand resting on the back of his neck, slowly gliding down his spine with just the right amount of pressure and speed, sending tingles throughout his body. Ye Ji’an comfortably rested his head on his arm, glancing sideways. The bar’s lights were red, and Liang Xiao’s brow was slightly furrowed, his eyes shimmering with a bright red glow. “So tell me, what made you… notice me?” Ye Ji’an reached out to grab his hand.

Liang Xiao smiled, and as soon as their hands clasped, his smile deepened. “Because you—are inconsistent.”

“Huh?” Ye Ji’an sat up straight in surprise.

Liang Xiao gently patted him, speaking slowly. “I want to use that term; it’s a long story. Do you remember? Six years ago, you went to New York once. The company held recruitment fairs at several schools, including mine. That was our first meeting.”

“Yeah, I remember…” Ye Ji’an said, a bit taken aback, recalling vaguely. “I was mainly doing odd jobs, organizing forms and such.”

“Right, when I went, you were being scolded,” Liang Xiao said, squeezing his fingers gently, his gaze still tender. “Later, I submitted my resume and filled out the forms. Everyone else seemed welcoming, but you were the only one who followed me after I visited other booths, urging me to stay at school and not rush into work after my undergraduate degree. You said I might realize years later that I had chosen the wrong path, and I could be bullied at work. You wanted me to think about my own preferences and not external factors.”

Ye Ji’an thought to himself, indeed, I graduated from one of the top two universities in the country with both a Bachelor’s and Master’s degree and passed two key certifications. When I first started working, I was also cautious and humble, and now, how much better off am I? I can only find some specialized work, and my salary has multiplied, but so has my workload. How could I just stand by and watch an idealistic kid stumble? Although he didn’t remember advising such a naive college student, he could easily recall the feelings he had at that time.

Liang Xiao continued, “During that time, I was actually quite troubled. I felt deceived by Roman and guilty for seriously hurting him. Love, this good thing, only brought me double the pain. I was stuck in a dead end, and insomnia began to set in.” He confessed, “My family kept urging me to return home. I wanted to go back but didn’t want to. In the end, I decided to stay and continue my studies. Looking back now, maybe it was because of you, a stranger who cared about me without asking for anything, just not wanting to see me make mistakes. It made me feel that the world was magical, as if I had to believe in it.”

Ye Ji’an wrapped his arms around Liang Xiao’s shoulders, rubbing his forehead against his neck. “I don’t remember.”

“I know.”

“I’m just… I’m so angry!” Ye Ji’an bit his lip, feeling at a loss for words. “Why did I forget?”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it doesn’t matter,” Liang Xiao comforted him, holding him close, providing a stable embrace that enveloped his confusion and drunkenness. “Then we exchanged contact information, email and Facebook, and you went back to continue doing odd jobs. At that time, I just thought you were a really nice person. But after a few years, I noticed that your Facebook account would post things like ‘I want to die’ every few days, with no other content. That’s when I remembered you were the Senior I met at the recruitment fair.”

“It was about a year ago, during the time I was preparing to return to work in China,” Liang Xiao added.

Ye Ji’an instinctively shrank his neck, burying his face in Liang Xiao’s shoulder like an ostrich, unwilling to lift it. It wasn’t exactly a thunderbolt from a clear sky, but it felt like being caught in a naked run right under Liang Xiao’s nose, completely unaware. Classmates and colleagues didn’t use Facebook; at least, no one mentioned adding him. He had registered years ago out of boredom and later used it as a trash can to vent his frustrations—over a year ago was when Ye Ji’an felt the most hopeless, having spent most of his savings on his adoptive mother’s medical treatment, with a mortgage that felt like it would crush him, and a promotion that seemed out of reach. He felt like he was done for.

Then he thought about dying, contemplating how to do it. Not expressing those two words to boast, he genuinely felt he was at the end of his rope. So he vented in what he thought was a safe way, only to be seen through.

“And then you thought I was a miserable person, wanting to die every day but too scared to do it, a nice guy,” he lifted his eyelids to look at Liang Xiao, knowing full well his eyes were red and wanting to be touched.

Liang Xiao really reached out, brushing his eyebrows and shaking his head. “Then I went back to work in China. What a coincidence, you were there during my interview, and I felt a sense of familiarity, like the kind of fate my dad often talked about. Later, I observed you, capable, gentle, humble, steady, and reliable. From an outsider’s perspective, you seemed perfect, the type of person girls would want to marry, and no one would doubt your confidence in life,” he looked at Ye Ji’an earnestly, his voice just right, neither too loud nor too soft, reaching Ye Ji’an’s ears perfectly. “Who would have thought I would see your tattoo at a rock concert? You had taken off your shirt, wearing only a tight T-shirt, and the tattoo extended down to your forearm. You looked genuinely happy, truly happy; at that moment, you were so free.”

“Ha, I must have looked strange… indeed, I was inconsistent,” Ye Ji’an could hear his own heartbeat again, the music still loud, so loud that he could hear his heart pounding. But leaning against Liang Xiao, he felt confused; whose heartbeat was it, really?

“Very contradictory, yet very charming. That day, I understood that Senior is actually a remarkable person, with a warm side, a cynical side, a smooth side, and a free side. Only I could see all of these, so you are different, and I am different. I wonder how much more is hidden? Can I see it? If I can’t see it, will I go crazy?” Liang Xiao said, gazing deeply at him, his palm resting on his back. “I’m lucky; I even know where every one of your tattoos is.”

Ye Ji’an shifted slightly, brushing his lips against Liang Xiao’s corner of his mouth. “I don’t believe you.”

“You should believe me,” Liang Xiao kissed him.

“You don’t even dare to look at me,” Ye Ji’an bit him, his voice slightly nasal. “When I took off my shirt, you didn’t even dare to hold me.”

Liang Xiao remained patient, still holding him, proving his absolute understanding. “Here is Guns N’ Roses,” he rubbed Ye Ji’an’s left shoulder blade. “Here is Dream Theater, with a long line of letters,” he traced Ye Ji’an’s spine, pressing gently according to the letters’ positions. “And here is Pantera, your favorite band.” As he spoke, his warmth slid down to Ye Ji’an’s waist, just above the tightly cinched belt. It didn’t rush inward, but one couldn’t say it lacked the intention to do so, because every gentle, steady caress, every teasing pinch, seemed to pluck a string, suspended in the air, tantalizing.

“Nineteen bands in total, four on the left arm, five on the right, and ten on the back and waist. If Senior’s waist were a bit thicker, you could have gotten the extra one on the right side,” Liang Xiao asked in a low voice, “Do you want to hear more?”

Ye Ji’an trembled slightly under his touch, not knowing when it had started, but he could feel the heat radiating through the fabric. He slid down from the high stool, hanging onto Liang Xiao as if he would never let go, wanting to stay tightly pressed against him forever. “Where’s the bathroom?” he whispered, whether in a daze or with deep thought, it seemed unimportant at that moment. The powerful wall of sound and the pogoing crowd couldn’t compare to the wave crashing over him. He fumbled to reach Liang Xiao’s belt, hooking his pinky finger on it. “Come with me.”