On Chinese New Year's Eve, we wore red suits and waited backstage at the Spring Festival Gala. I leaned against his back, trying to catch a glimpse of Yan Feng's eyes, but he stood motionless with his back to me. One group of performers after another exited the stage, passing through the gap between us, causing our distance to vary. Rather than feeling nervous, my heart raced with excitement. This nervousness surged from my stomach, reminding me of the nights we spent composing music together at his home in Palm Springs. "Golden Snake Dance" was originally orchestrated for a symphony, vibrant and jubilant. Folk instruments could fully express the song's powerful charm. Yan Feng put a lot of effort into the arrangement since it was just the two of us performing, and we worried we couldn't capture the song's grandeur. Each time he finished a note, I would play it. As I played, some unexpected chords would swirl in my hands, seamlessly blending with his newly composed music. We wouldn't sleep until we were completely satisfied with the composition.
A week before the performance, the song finally reached the effect we desired. We practiced many times. Every day, he drove my Ferrari to take us to the rehearsal studio. Our relationship was already an open secret in our circle. Strangely, no one sought a definite confirmation from us. Everyone understood but didn't speak openly about it, waiting for that day when congratulations could be freely given.
We were also waiting for that day, when our parents would finally know.
At this moment, we stood behind the stage, the curtain concealing our most secret relationship. Beyond the black curtain were colorful neon lights, flowing LED screens, and an electronic keyboard connected to two keyboards. He sat across from me, and through the transparent keyboard, I could clearly see him. He wore a red jacket with dragon patterns and black leather pants, smiling at me without reservation.
This scene, repeated many times in rehearsals, was etched in my mind. As the official performance began, it replayed, merging our duets from different times and spaces into a joyful symphony in the live broadcast hall on New Year's Eve. His smile, finally uncontainable, grew louder with each keystroke. I controlled the tempo, everything in the music under my command, and reminded him, "It's time to speed up." He nodded slightly, his hair gently swaying with the notes. Beneath his hair, his eyes burned. In them, I saw the familiar spark I had seen countless nights before. His occasionally trembling legs moved the leather pants' contours, as if they would touch my legs in the next moment. As "Golden Snake Dance" ended, he jumped up, grabbing the dragon-shaped guitar beside the transparent keyboard. I continued to accompany him on the piano as he sang and played, frequently turning to look at me. My eyes locked onto his, and in a moment, I remembered countless eyes were watching us. I bit my lip slightly to control my expression. I wondered if, in their eyes, this was an attempt to cover up the truth.
In the eyes of the audience, what do we look like? Will they feel the sweetness that I feel? In the past, during my countless performances on stage, almost every time at the piano, I would immerse myself in my own world, a realm of solitude and invincibility, where I felt completely alone even as the performance drew to a close. But this time was entirely different. Today, the hidden sweetness between him and me was going to be subtly revealed to the public. Among all the eyes watching us, I could see nothing but him.
"You've changed, Ye Xi. You're playing the electronic keyboard now," Dai Yanzhi greeted me backstage, his words still sharp but with a gentle smile this time. "You still have another performance. Don't forget. The host wants to interview you two, so keep it restrained," he said softly, holding my arm.
"Okay," I replied absentmindedly, my eyes fixed on Yan Feng walking ahead, who then turned to look at me.
As if my soul had been drawn out, I followed Yan Feng to another studio. We sat at opposite ends of a pearwood chair, with a coffee table between us. He placed his hand on the table, trying to get as close to my hand as possible.
"Yan Feng's outfit is covered in dragon patterns," the host started the warm-up.
"Yes, because I was born in the year of the dragon."
"Are you wearing a red belt?" the host asked again.
"That's a secret." A close-up shot focused on Yan Feng while I remained off-camera. I feared he might say something even more inappropriate next.
"You weren't born in the year of the dragon, were you?" The host shifted the topic to me.
"No, I wasn't. But I wish I was," I blurted out.
"How did you two get together?"
"In fact, we have known each other for a long time. I was performing in Taipei before, and Yan Feng was also there," I said carefully, word by word.
"We fought, that's how it started," Yan Feng laughed heartily.
The rambling conversation lasted seven minutes. All our answers were within controllable limits, all our words had room for interpretation, and all our interactions could be attributed to the deep mutual understanding between kindred spirits. This brief interview encapsulated the entirety of the love and affection Yan Feng and I had shared over the past decade. These candid dialogues were later seen by many as conclusive evidence of our relationship, yet they only scratched the surface of our story.
If words can deceive, actions can deceive, and even glances can wander, the happiness in love cannot be hidden. It follows the breath of every word, the slight tremble of a face, the flow of eyes, forming a haloed bubble that enveloped Yan Feng and me, isolating us from any possible dissenting voices. Inside this bubble, we were like actors lost in their roles, performing uncontrollably and selfishly. We thought we were flawless, but in reality, we were full of flaws.
After midnight, the New Year's bell rang. At that moment, he and I were backstage, holding hands tightly, looking forward to a new era. After the bell rang, all the performers went on stage to sing "Unforgettable Tonight." He and I stood next to each other, occasionally looking into each other's eyes, sharing the same hope.
At three in the morning, after all the work had ended, we exchanged farewells with the director, other teachers, and actors. Without having time to change out of our performance clothes, Yan Feng pulled me into the car and we drove to his home in Palm Springs. We undressed each other and stumbled into the bathroom. I picked up the facial cleanser, squeezed out some lotion, and began applying it to his face. The transparent liquid gradually emulsified, forming a dense white foam on his face. Some foam landed on the tips of his hair on his forehead, and he wiped it off with his hand. As he did so, his palm accidentally touched the tip of his nose, revealing a small patch of skin, making him look like a clown, which made me burst into laughter.
"So happy," he said, wiping a bit of foam onto his finger and drawing on my face.
"I can do it myself," I said, grabbing his hand, which obediently fell. I squeezed out a bit more lotion from the facial cleanser.
"Is this what you wanted?" He moved behind me, looking at my reflection in the mirror.
"What?" I asked, seriously rubbing my face while he hugged me from behind.
"Today, like this. Is this what you wanted?"
I nodded.
"And from then on, the prince and princess lived happily ever after," he murmured, his face moving closer, lips nearing mine but stopping at my nose. "The ending of the story needs a change. It's the prince and the prince who lived happily ever after."
That night, he loved me deeply, and I loved him in the same way, until our souls and bodies were completely exhausted. Such weariness held no bitterness. Being able to work or live with him, not being apart for a whole day, was such a wonderful thing. Whether our time together was private or public, as long as I could be close to him, just like on this New Year's Eve, I would gladly share our sweetness with everyone for the rest of my life.
Love is a magical thing. It can make me selfish and anxious, so I want to hide it deep within the roots of a tree. But if someone were to accidentally uncover it and cherish it as I do, holding it tenderly, then I would want to display this treasure to everyone, proudly showing off the unique happiness I possess.
"Kai, let's have dinner together tonight," I heard Yan Feng talking to someone in a daze.
I struggled to open my eyes. Warm sunlight filtered through the curtains. Turning over, I saw his phone glowing faintly.
"Who?" I rubbed my eyes.
"My brother, Kai. Let's have dinner tonight," he said, just having hung up the phone, and gently ruffled my hair.
"You told him?"
"Yeah, Kai knows. My older brother doesn't yet. My parents don't know either. We'll tell them gradually."
"I remember you and your brother were always the closest. When you were in New York, he was the only one who came to visit you."
"My brother is too busy. Kai has more free time. My parents think that once kids turn eighteen, they no longer belong to their parents' home."
"But your mom still manages your company."
"Yes, she still handles my finances. I took out a loan to buy Aniston without telling her."
I smiled.
"You're still such a kid. Not even weaned yet."
"Hey, why are you talking like that? So disrespectful." He gave a mischievous smile, playfully pressing his fist into my belly button.
"I am your sunshine." I lifted my head, rubbing it against the pillow.
He suddenly started singing, "O sole mio..."
"Stop singing, it's terrible," I said, covering his mouth.
"You saying that makes me sad. You praised me in front of the whole nation at the studio last night, and now you're turning your back on me so quickly."
"What did I praise you for?"
"'I can only play the piano, but Yan Feng can play the piano, sing, and even play the violin. Yan Feng put a lot of effort into the arrangement...'" he began to repeat my words enthusiastically.
"It wasn't the whole night; it's the New Year now." I turned around, deliberately trying to tease him.
"Hey, don't deny it," he said, grabbing my shoulder. "Look."
He pointed to a spot of skin between my neck and collarbone. I strained my eyes to see a small red mark.
"You're playing dirty!" I said, grabbing him and pressing my lips to his neck to give him a matching mark.
"You can't escape now." He hugged me tightly, his fingers pressing into my back. "Yesterday the host asked if I had a red belt, but she should have asked you." He laughed again, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly before returning to its usual curved smile.
"By the way, do you know where Bai Jingrui and He Tiantian went?" This question popped out of my mouth like a string of warm bubbles.
"I thought you knew. Isn't He Tiantian still your assistant? But now that you mention it, we haven't seen her these past few days."
"Dai Yanzhi and I don't know where she went. She disappeared after handling things with the new assistant."
"I guess they must be hiding out somewhere."
"Really? Quite like the Wei-Jin recluse style, like the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove."
"Who are the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove?"
"Ji Kang is one of them. Do you know 'Guangling San'?"
"No, I don't."
"Well, they were recluses from a certain Chinese dynasty."
"This allusion is great, very fitting for Bai Jingrui. Let's make it the theme of the new album. How about Boya and Ziqi?"
"You don't know Ji Kang but you know Boya and Ziqi?" I pinched his face with my fingers.
"Because it's you and me." He leaned in for a kiss.
"Come on, get up now. What time is it? When is your brother coming?"
"At noon," he said, turning to look at his phone.
"You just said you would tell your parents. I remember they are Christians, right?" I sat up and picked up my thermal underwear. The air had the post-snow scent. In Beijing, winter always has heating, and the dryness of the north is somewhat alleviated after snowy days, occasionally filling the nasal passages with excess moisture. This moisture isn't as aggressive as in the south; it's more like fine particles of white sand blown by the wind, filling the respiratory tract and causing a sense of suffocation. I took a deep breath and then held it.
"My mom has somewhat heard about it," Yan Feng said, his head down as he tidied his clothes. "Before I came to Beijing, she asked me about Bai Jingrui and mentioned some rumors."
"Even if she's heard, it's still different to hear it confirmed from you." I finished dressing and stood up from the bed.
"What about your parents?"
"Ah, don't worry about them. My dad hardly cared about me since I was a kid; he was always away and had his own matters to attend to. My mom has always respected me, so it's fine."
"I really envy you," he suddenly sounded a bit crestfallen.
"You've said that before," I finished putting on my pants, walked over to him, and patted his shoulder. "The committee has news that the bill will pass at the end of next year's meeting. Don't worry too much."
"I heard from Dai Yanzhi, are you going to become a committee member too?"
"Haha, yes, in my hometown. They're doing me a favor, and afterwards all my work will be tied to them. I'm also discussing with new management and record companies."
"You've got a strong backing, soaring to success," he smirked confidently.
"Your Chinese has made leaps and bounds," I chuckled.
"Let's go. The 'ugly bride' meets the younger brother-in-law. Dinner at Xinrongji," he suddenly stood up, brushed off his clothes, and dashed into the living room.
"Hey, hold on!"