I rarely spend the New Year in Beijing. In the past, I always celebrated Spring Festival with my parents and grandparents in Chengdu. If there happened to be a performance, I would casually eat some dumplings in a different place to mark the occasion. As for the custom of eating dumplings during the New Year, it's not a tradition from my hometown but something I picked up from Chinese classmates while studying in Hanover. This time, spending the New Year in Beijing with Yan Feng and his brother, we had to follow the local customs. However, in the cold winter months and during the festive season, all the dumpling restaurants around Wanliu Courtyard were closed. Accompanied by an inexplicable anxiety over not being able to eat dumplings, I suddenly opened my eyes and saw Yan Feng's face. He was sleeping soundly, breathing irregularly, half covering his phone screen. On a whim, I decided to record the sound of his breathing. One minute was enough, it might come in handy someday. At 5 a.m., before dawn, I quietly sat up in bed to check the fridge for supplies. Just as my foot was about to touch the ground, a hand grabbed mine and warm lips pressed against mine.
"Where are you going? Xi Xi, don't leave." Yan Feng's embrace locked me in.
"I'm going to see if we have anything for breakfast. We need to eat dumplings on New Year's morning." I tried to pull my hand away.
"It's okay if we don't have dumplings, let me eat something better," he said, sliding under the covers.
"Kai is next door," I said, holding him.
"It's okay, he's always been a deep sleeper." He brushed aside the last layer, enveloping me in a wave of warmth.
If love has a temperature, it must be this moment. Flashes of events over the years, the various trials between us, all the mutual debts, were smoothed out in the lingering affection of the first day of the Dragon Year. If there were any hesitations in the past, this moment's passion was genuinely eternal. From the beginning, he pursued a dream in music, and I pursued an ideal in classical music. Along the way, we traveled to different countries and met different people. The first time I met him was at the Summer Palace, and he was wearing Converse shoes. Now we've returned to the starting point, holding hands, the Cartier bracelet on my wrist faded, and countless pairs of shoes of different brands worn out. We've finally become household names, money is no longer an issue, and I think for him, it's time to pursue freedom.
At this moment, his passionate kiss is the trembling of a heart yearning for freedom. I held him, wanting to respond with the same tremor, to tell him that I could help him soar. If taking the first step had exhausted all his courage, I was willing to lend him all the remaining courage, until we could walk hand in hand freely as lovers. This is my country, not his, so it should be me leading him. He has already guided me for so long, this time it is my turn to lead the way. I held him tightly, guiding him toward the finish line, no matter how much pain and darkness we might face. At that moment, when he looked up at me, his forehead hair flinging into the air, the tips of his hair glimmered in the darkness. A low moan accompanied by the warmth of his chin flowed towards the destination we had envisioned together. This destination will be reached this year, and it will be as lingering and wonderful as this embrace.
That day, we didn't eat dumplings. When we woke up again, it was already noon. Kai had left us some takeout on the table in the living room and was nowhere to be seen. From New Year's Day to the seventh day of the new year, Yan Feng and I lived an isolated life in Wanquan Courtyard. Dai Yanzhi delivered takeout to us every day and didn't share any news from the outside world. According to him, he wanted us to have a few quiet days.
In March, at the signing table with De Zhi, Mr. Clementi greeted me, and I learned that our affair was almost universally known. As usual, I just smiled it off and turned to discuss the new album and tour with Chen Hanwen. It had been years since I last saw her, and she seemed just as efficient and energetic as she was back in Japan, unchanged even by a single white hair. However, when I looked into her eyes, I saw a deeper profundity. Later, Dai Yanzhi gossiped with me, saying she was still single. A woman like her must find it hard to meet a matching man. Thinking of this, the images of He Tiantian and Bai Jingrui flashed through my mind, and I wondered how they were doing now.
April is coming soon. Yan Feng originally planned to hold a concert at Beijing's Bird's Nest in April. There were many obstacles, and I had to use some personal connections to help him. Finally, on the last day of March, the matter was settled, leaving only a month and a half until his concert. He was busy with work every day, returning to Wanliu Courtyard late at night. I secluded myself for many days, practicing the piano at home, preparing for the national tour and recording the new album. Every night before bed, I would leave a cup of hot water and a few vitamins for him on the kitchen island. Sometimes in my dreams, I would feel him gently kiss me, and with a certain sweetness, I would fall into a deeper sleep.
This year, I was immersed in a dizzying bliss. Even during the subsequent university lectures, when asked about my ideal type, and the students in the audience shouted Yan Feng's name, I could only smile sweetly. Dai Yanzhi recounted the dialogue from the interview segment, where a student asked, "If one day you could no longer play the piano, what would you do?" A voice shouted from the audience, "Find Yan Feng." I replied, "Find Yan Feng. It seems there's no other way."
"Why would you say that?" Dai Yanzhi didn't blame me; he just asked calmly.
"I don't know."
"I remember you once said in an interview, 'Just thinking about not being able to play the piano feels like a betrayal to the piano,'" Dai Yanzhi said, smiling from the passenger seat.
"We have to go to Yan Feng's concert at the Bird's Nest tomorrow. Save your energy," I said, tossing my suit jacket onto him.
On the night of the concert, I sat beside Kai, with our friend separating me from Yan Feng's mother. When Yan Feng sang "Shangri-La (Sun and Moon in My Heart)," he knelt on one knee on stage, facing my direction. Sometimes he put down the microphone, sometimes he clenched his fists. Even then, I did not know the struggle in his heart. As the accompaniment ended, his breathing was drowned out by countless screams from the crowd, fans calling his name, while I called his name in my heart. At the end of the song, he changed the lyrics to, "In tonight's valley of thousands, it feels like I hear 'I love you.'" When he said "I love you," he choked up several times. The unified chanting from the audience resumed. He repeated the last line of the song several times, pausing after "it feels like I hear," and then said "I love you" again. After finishing the song, he began to express his gratitude. I knew he wanted to say my name, but he didn't. His final words were, "My love for you is forever."
Dai Yanzhi whispered in my ear, "Coward."
I grabbed his shoulder, wanting to crush it.
"It's not the right time yet."
At the celebration banquet that night, I sat at a table with Yan Feng's mother, brother, and older brother. I was seated directly opposite his mother, with my friend, Dai Yanzhi, and his brothers in between us. Although Yan Feng hadn't told his mother about our relationship, it made no difference. At one point, his mother and I both reached for the same dish. We exchanged a glance for a second without saying a word, but I knew she understood.
Yan Feng mingled among many tables, and I had to navigate this situation on my own. Dai Yanzhi and my friend kept the conversation flowing until the early morning when Yan Feng's brother took their mother back to the hotel to rest. Just before she turned away, she glanced at me with tears of resentment in her eyes. I caught a glimpse of this and then turned to Dai Yanzhi.
After his mother left, Yan Feng sat beside me and whispered in my ear, asking me to stay with him at the hotel that night and to take the early flight to Hong Kong the next day to be an award presenter. I agreed. It was the same white sheets as usual, and we spent the night in affectionate embrace. He asked me to be a guest performer at his concert in Hong Kong, to play the piano for him, and to perform our Spring Festival Gala piece again. I agreed. Although he didn't ask me to sing at the concert, I did. It was my first time singing, and although I hadn't rehearsed, I knew the song by heart. When it came to the line "Home is only by your side," he waved his fingers for me to sing it, and I did. After the song, he hugged me in front of everyone, causing the fans to cheer wildly.
He wanted me to stay at his house during the Taipei tour in October and visit old friends with him, and I agreed. He wanted to upload the video of me playing "Pathétique" for him at the National Courtyard on social media, and I was happy to comply. He wanted me to take him to meet my mother, and I agreed. He invited me to watch dance dramas and movies together, and I agreed. When paparazzi secretly took photos of us watching a movie together and the pictures went viral on social media, I saw it as a normal test of going public. He wanted me to attend the premiere of a movie he starred in, and even though I had a fever of 39 degrees the night before, I agreed.
When Yan Feng talked about friends with the host, the cameraman projected my face onto the big screen at the premiere, and I thought this was the point of no return in love. Our love was meant to be like this: starting silently but needing a grand finale.
This year, whether on social media or in private, my name and his were always linked. Our sweet romance became a well-known fact. Even though I made the biggest performance mistake of my career due to exhaustion on the second day of the Bird's Nest concert, I believe everyone would find a sweet excuse for my mistake. They wouldn't blame me for it.
After all, that year I became a committee member and was admired by many. It seemed I had achieved my ideal of popularizing classical music. "In an era dominated by entertainment, it certainly needs a convenient new face to create an approachable gateway for classical music, attracting more and more people to it. In the past, I disdained catering to the mainstream, thinking it was a blind indulgence of the trend." (paraphrased from "Beyond Performance") Now I have tasted its benefits. If the result is good, what does the packaging matter? At least some people among the masses are willing to understand the beauty of classical music beneath the facade, and that is enough.
One day in November, someone informed me again that the legal process would begin early next year. For Thanksgiving, Yan Feng and I planned to invite my mother and a few friends for dinner.
When my mother arrived, she held both Yan Feng's and my hands, said nothing, took a photo of us, ate a few bites, and left in a hurry. She said, "I'm leaving now. You young people enjoy your conversation." She quickly packed her things and opened the door. I stood up and grabbed her. She whispered in my ear, "Mom knows. As long as you are happy, that's all that matters. For so many years, you have made your own decisions. As long as you live well, that's good." She then stuffed a red envelope into my hand, "Your grandmother isn't feeling well, I need to go back and check on her tomorrow. I'll talk to your father about coming home for New Year's. This is New Year's money for you and Yan Feng."
I took the red envelope, held her hand, and had many things to say, but only managed a few words: "Okay, stay safe, let me know when your plane lands."
After my mother left, I opened a bottle of long-aged dry red wine. Four glasses clinked together, accompanied by laughter and blessings, all echoing like the voices of dreams. Yan Feng led me into another dream that night. The light from the window slit cast a dazzling movement into the bedroom. Beneath me, he breathed like singing, skilled in both violin and vocals. Their sounds were never sorrowful, but at this moment, they became even more entwining and sticky, as if he brought me my own honey. This sweetness, from the zenith of our era together, blessed our love, and our marriage would also be blessed. Our careers soared, and he asked me how many Steinways I wanted. I laughed and said, "I've already got you now. I've done everything you asked for. You and your money are mine now."
After saying that, I vaguely recalled our earliest oath, as if it were on some lonely island in Europe.
"On December 31st, my concert. Rose has agreed to be my guest. Do you remember what we discussed that night?"
I squeezed his shoulder, revealing a healthy bronze hue in the dwindling light.
"Zhang Hongsheng agreed to another TV station. I have to go to their New Year's concert."
I remained silent, my movements becoming more restless. He hummed softly, whether in pleasure or pain, I couldn't tell.
"You're not coming?" I heard him hum again, and with my anxious retaliation, he straightened up.
"Xi Xi, next year for sure." His voice softened, evoking my pity.
If only I had known that the betrayal awaited me next year, I would have stabbed him that night until blood flowed endlessly.