Yan Xi’s love for visual rock didn’t surprise Ah Heng.

She clearly understood that this youth had a sensitive yet expansive heart, capable of embracing music’s most dazzling variations and accepting the most bizarre limits of styling.

Decadent, luxuriant, clamorous – these were all the assessments she could give to that metallic music.

Yan Xi was intelligent. He could perfectly imitate all the subtle movements and expressions of others when they sang, even including the flavor of vocal flow, though he was always off-key.

Yan Xi was also devoted, listening to only one band’s music for many years – Sleepless. Among the four-member group, the other three were unremarkable, but the lead singer Ice was an exquisite black-haired man as enchanting as the night.

Ice liked to stand in the corner of the stage, wearing the most elaborate makeup in the ambiguous lighting, interpreting his life through soul-bearing suppressed violence.

Without being able to explain why, Yan Xi was passionately obsessed with this band, or rather, with Ice himself.

Ah Heng had watched Ice’s concert recordings that Yan Xi had saved, but truly couldn’t develop any fondness for them. Because this man called Ice had eyes that were too ethereally pure – when devoid of emotion, they always carried an inexplicable contempt for the world; when passionate, they blazed with such intensity that seemed capable of burning people to ashes.

She watched that man on stage with trepidation. Then, to her further alarm, she discovered that Yan Xi had mastered imitating that man’s gaze to perfection.

This gave her an illusion that if given a chance, Yan Xi would indulge in repeating the experiences hidden behind those eyes. Though she wasn’t clear what those experiences were, she would bet that they weren’t ones possessed by people destined for longevity and peace.

Therefore, when Chen Juan smiled and handed Yan Xi a flyer, Ah Heng’s brow subtly furrowed.

“What’s this?” Yan Xi seemed dazed.

Chen Juan smiled: “I heard from Si Wan before that you really like visual rock. Someone was handing out flyers on the way to school today – seems C Company is planning to launch a new visual band and is recruiting a lead singer. You could try auditioning, Yan Xi.”

C Company was a nationally famous star-making company, responsible for producing most of the country’s well-known bands.

Yan Xi froze, then after a while, started giggling: “Oh my, if this young master gets selected and enters showbiz, does that mean I’ll get to see my idol in the future?”

Chen Juan raised the phoenix tail at the corner of his eye, hiding his smile and speaking seriously: “Yan Xi, I’m not joking with you.”

Yan Xi yelped: “Who’s joking with you? Even if I were joking, how could I joke about my idol with you? Hmph!”

“Yan Xi, haven’t you been talking about going to Japan to see your idol for the past two years?” Xin Dayi interjected.

“Can’t help it, my old man said if I dare step foot in Japan, he’ll immediately sever relations with me, especially financial relations.” Yan Xi spread his hands and shook his head with a sigh.

“Let’s stop talking about this. I happen to know some people in bands. Yan Xi, if you’re willing to go, I can ask them to help you practice.” Chen Juan cut off the youth’s digressing conversation.

“Go? Why wouldn’t I go!” Yan Xi smiled.

Ah Heng sat to the side, maintaining silence throughout, though feeling vaguely troubled inside. In her heart, she hoped Yan Xi would treat this as a joke and forget about it after the discussion.

However, after school, he locked himself in his room, turned off the lights, and quietly watched Ice’s concert recordings over and over. When he came out, he only said one thing to her: “Ah Heng, I want to try.”

Ah Heng didn’t speak, just nodded silently.

She didn’t know why Rosemary was so concerned about Yan Xi’s affairs, but the people he found were all students from the Arts University, very knowledgeable about rock music. Drums, guitar, keyboard – everything was complete.

“Is this for real?” Xin Dayi clicked his tongue at Ah Heng.

“Mm, Yan Xi registered yesterday.” Ah Heng spoke, but her gaze fell on Rosemary, who was seriously critiquing Yan Xi’s singing technique from a completely professional perspective.

Ah Heng hadn’t forgotten that Si Wan had once mentioned how brilliant Chen Juan’s musical talent was.

Of course, Mother had also said that when Yan Xi learned piano from her as a child, it took him a whole year to stumblingly play a simple dance tune.

Born with hands meant for piano, yet surprisingly lacking in musical sensitivity. So, why would it be Yan Xi?

Rosemary had prepared everything in advance, choosing Yan Xi, or perhaps Yan Xi had been his target from the beginning. Ah Heng even had a strange feeling that he was sparing no effort to pull Yan Xi down this path. That set of pretexts – Yan Xi’s interest, and classmate friendship – was too perfunctory.

Given Yan Xi’s usual perceptiveness, he should have seen through it. But this youth, indulging in the opium of spirit and even soul, had already lost control.

And Rosemary was aware of this weakness in Yan Xi’s character. He understood Yan Xi too well, far exceeding Ah Heng’s imagination, and too frighteningly so, because she had never been clear about this enigmatic youth’s intentions from the start.

From his return in disguise, his complete silence about the past, to Si Wan’s strong aversion to his approaching Yan Xi – everything was as unclear as impenetrable fog.

“This line is in 6/8 time, A major, rising then falling – you sang it wrong.” Rosemary frowned, pointing at the score.

“Wrong again?” Yan Xi said softly, staring at the score with wide eyes as if trying to bore a hole through it, his expression showing adorable bewilderment.

Ah Heng pulled back her thoughts and smiled, walking to the kitchen to prepare some juice.

“Chen Juan, thank you.” Ah Heng handed the juice to that feminine man in women’s clothing, smiling as she interrupted his scolding of Yan Xi.

“Ah Heng…” Yan Xi looked at Ah Heng with watery eyes, pitifully extending his hand for juice, looking exactly like a hungry Lu Rou Fan.

“Get it yourself.” Ah Heng smiled faintly, turning away and pulling Xin Dayi toward the entrance. She left him complete space.

Don’t regret, don’t have regrets…

The audition date was set for mid-July, with final exams in early July. Si Wan would not allow Yan Xi to idle away his first year of high school again. As soon as Si Er finished his middle school entrance exam, he stationed himself at the Yan house, voluntarily helping Yan Xi review his studies every day.

Rosemary maintained a meaningful smile at Si Wan’s behavior, as if he had long understood this would happen, and knowingly agreed to wait until after finals to practice vocals.

“Ah Heng, you…” Si Wan hesitated with her words to Ah Heng.

Ah Heng smiled faintly. She knew what Si Wan wanted to say – why not stop Yan Xi? Everyone felt this was inappropriate, everyone felt Yan Xi’s life was too comfortable, that he was just bored and playing around with bands, and more ridiculously, even wanted to become a performer. With his status, power, and position, what couldn’t he obtain effortlessly? Why do this?

Or did Si Wan believe that Yan Xi should only be refined to the point of not touching worldly dust, like spring sunshine and white snow, to be held preciously in one’s palm?

Although, she had also been… hoping for this.

But Yan Xi was an independent, free Yan Xi, Yan Xi’s own Yan Xi, neither Si Wan’s Yan Xi nor Ah Heng’s Yan Xi. Only when he willingly belonged to someone would there be the possibility of being constrained yet still happy?

But she was naturally so foolishly inflexible – before such a person appeared, how could she ensure this youth’s safety and joy?

Not a bit more, not an inch less, it was truly troublesome.

Finally, the final exams were over and summer vacation officially began. The Yan house became headquarters, with Xin Dayi and Si Wan hanging around all day, eating and drinking, completely free from parental supervision.

Yan Xi tortured everyone’s ears every day. Si Wan was well-mannered, only hiding upstairs and not coming down; Xin Dayi didn’t care about such things – as soon as Yan Xi opened his mouth, he would inevitably cover his ears and cry out in pain; Lu Rou Fan would chorus, circling its owner’s forehead calling “Lu Rou Lu Rou, nonsensical nonsensical.”

Yan Xi grew angry and threw both the person and the bird out.

The day before the audition, even Ah Heng felt that Rou Si Meili was about to be tortured to the point of only having exhaled breath left when Yan Xi finally found the right key. Combined with his gestures and movements, looking carefully, it seemed quite presentable, making it hard to look away.

“Ah Heng.” Yan Xi looked at Ah Heng, seeking her approval.

Ah Heng licked her dry lips, not looking at Yan Xi: “Tomorrow, prepare water and throat lozenges.”

Yan Xi breathed softly, his big eyes watching Ah Heng.

Xin Dayi watched the two of them, feeling the atmosphere was awkward, and consciously remained quiet.

Rosemary just smiled on the side, the phoenix tail at his eye corner flowing with sharp light.

Si Wan stood on the second floor, leaning on the railing with her elbow, smiling as she spoke: “Ah Heng, prepare some spare ribs.”

Ah Heng smiled and nodded: “Alright.”

At six o’clock the next morning, Rosemary took Yan Xi away, saying he was taking him to get styled, telling Ah Heng and the others to go directly to the audition venue. C Company had rented out the Municipal Theater, heavily promoting their intention to create an overnight sensation.

When Ah Heng, Xin Dayi, and Si Wan arrived, they only saw a sea of people filling the venue, seated everywhere, with plastic chairs even arranged in the aisles. Listening to the surrounding conversations, it seemed the candidates had already been arranged in order and given number tags, and were now preparing backstage.

They figured that with so many people, they might not even be able to see Yan Xi backstage, and would only add to his pressure, so they found seats in the front aisle to wait.

To be honest, Ah Heng didn’t like men wearing excessive makeup – if their features weren’t outstanding enough, the effect was terrifyingly horrible, like several people before them. The expressions of everyone in the venue, except for the contestants’ friends and family, were varying shades of green and purple.

Ah Heng began to get a headache. She knew Yan Xi was good-looking, but she also worried that with this youth’s unrestrained and rebellious nature, who knew what avant-garde appearance he would create?

The rock music’s heavy bass thundered through the venue. Sitting in the front row, Si Wan and Xin Dayi couldn’t stand the noise anymore and had to cover their ears. But Ah Heng just watched the ever-changing colorful lights in the venue, maintaining a calm and gentle demeanor.

A few contestants who came out later had good looks and singing ability, drawing applause from the entire hall. But compared to Yan Xi… Ah Heng sighed softly, gently closing her eyes.

The outcome was already clear.

Was this all she could do?

It truly… made one unwilling to accept.

When she opened her eyes again, that youth was already standing on stage.

The audience erupted in cheers, reaching a crescendo, but she clasped her hands tightly against her knees, blocking out the chaos, her ears crystal clear.

Yan Xi stood in a quiet corner, his features no longer their usual appearance, made up to be bewitchingly gorgeous, clearly resembling Ice’s look from the concert that Ah Heng remembered, familiar and clear, heart-stopping.

The black cape, the slender figure, the pure white shirt with three buttons undone, the luminous fair skin.

The small braids combed back, the jet-black hair, the pure, untainted eyes.

Even the arc of the shirt hem when the breeze lifted it… was the same.

Ah Heng’s stomach cramped, her palms already soaked with sweat. She remembered Yan Xi telling her that Ice had jumped from a thirteen-story apartment building in early 1998, due to overwhelming pressure.

He hadn’t avoided going to Japan to see his concert because he didn’t want to – it was because that beauty had already scattered with the wind, both soul and dreams dispersed.

She remembered, in childhood, the elderly neighbor saying that boys with feminine features would have neither fortune nor longevity, most destined to die young.

She remembered, before Grandfather Yan’s departure, tears streaming down his face as he made her promise to protect Yan Xi no matter what, to keep him healthy and free from worry.

She didn’t understand, didn’t understand anything, chose to believe all the rumors, yet because of Yan Xi’s desire, found herself unable to move forward.

Suddenly, the lights went out, causing an uproar in the audience.

When they came back on, darkness surrounded everything except the center stage, illuminated by a spotlight.

There stood another youth, wearing smoky makeup, bewitchingly beautiful.

It was Rosemary!

He snapped his fingers, and music began to play – Ice’s signature song “Fleeting Time” that Yan Xi had practiced countless times.

Liu Nian.

When the youth’s magnetic voice with its powerful explosive force rang out on stage, the audience’s shock was beyond words.

Chen Juan held the microphone, his voice gorgeous and flamboyant, the perfect embodiment of rock.

He smiled mockingly, looking toward the youth standing in the shadowy corner of the stage.

Ah Heng stared at the corner where Yan Xi stood, at that black silhouette in the darkness, watching those large eyes in the darkness slowly grow dim, and lose their light.

Though everyone’s attention was on Chen Juan, though everyone had forgotten that presence in the darkness, Ah Heng saw his panicked helplessness, his soul grieved to the point of anger.

He stood straight, so beautiful, yet no one would look at him again, never again.

Ah Heng felt her blood flowing backward. She stood up with some difficulty, tightly gripping the plastic chair beneath her, ears ringing, walking forward step by step.

What a strange feeling – in this vast world, among this clamorous crowd, she could only hear her footsteps.

“Ah Heng, where are you going?” Si Wan’s worried voice was drowned out by the crowd.

She walked onto the stage from one side, using all her strength to throw the chair in her hands at Chen Juan.

She felt that she wanted to kill him.

When the music abruptly stopped, when everyone fell silent, she reached out her hand and firmly grabbed that youth in the corner of the stage.

“Yan Xi, let’s go home.”

The youth stood in the darkness, looking at her, unable to hide the vague alienation and suspicion in his eyes.

Suddenly, he smiled, his posture soft as she held his hand, but when he raised his head, his eyes held careful indifference and sharpness.

She met his gaze, gradually becoming heartbroken and angry.

Some treasured things held close to one’s chest, stumbling, unable to find an exit.

She grabbed Yan Xi’s hand, no longer looking at him, just running forward. In her mind, at that moment, only one thought circled: go home, quickly go home. She had to take Yan Xi home.

But when they reached home, Ah Heng’s movements became mechanical. She took Yan Xi directly to the bathroom, turned on the shower, picked up the shower head, testing the temperature with her palm.

Cold, hot, warm.

“Ah Heng, what are you doing?” Yan Xi smiled, his face even more radiantly beautiful than usual.

“Close your eyes.” Ah Heng’s expression was blank.

“Oh.” Yan Xi obediently closed his eyes.

She took a towel, dampened it, and gently wiped the carefully crafted makeup from his face.

“It hurts,” Yan Xi said, pouting.

“Bear with it.” Ah Heng’s face was cold, her expression angry, but her movements became even gentler. Eyebrows, eyes, nose, mouth… gradually revealing their true form.

She wiped the youth’s temple until she saw that familiar slightly childish fuzz, only then did her erratic breathing slightly ease.

After a long while, Ah Heng spoke again: “Lower your head.”

Yan Xi obediently lowered his head. Ah Heng frowned, slowly undoing the ribbons in the youth’s hair.

“Doesn’t it look good?” Yan Xi spoke in a joking tone.

But Ah Heng remained silent, looking at her hands full of hair gel and clips, quietly took some shampoo, gently massaging the youth’s wet black hair with her palms, massaging for a long time, rinsing it clean. The soft black hair still carried the smell of hair gel, an unpleasant, suffocating smell.

The second time, third time, still that seemingly indelible marked smell remained.

In the bathroom, only the slow sound of running water remained.

Suddenly, with a huge crash, the girl threw down the shower head.

“What’s so good about it? A boy should properly be a man, why learn to be like a little girl, braiding hair, it’s so ugly, so awful! I’ve never seen anyone as ugly, as awful as you!”

Ah Heng shouted, trembling, her voice very loud, almost out of control, completely unlike her usual gentle and labored manner.

“I understand.” Yan Xi looked at her, lowered his head, and dropped his gaze, falling silent.

After a while, she asked hoarsely, distinctly: “What do you understand!”

He raised his head, disheveled, wanting to speak, but found that the girl was already frowning, holding back the crystalline tears in her reddened eyes.

He looked at her, carefully resting his head in the crook of her neck, a quiet, dependent posture, like a child, showing helplessness: “I’m sorry.” The wet hair, water drops falling quietly.

Ah Heng gently pushed him away, turned her back, and took a deep breath, but because of the tremendous suppression, hot tears fell.

“Yan Xi, before you learn not to be suspicious of this stranger Wen Heng, don’t say sorry.”

The phone rang.

Six o’clock in the morning, who could it be at this time?

Ah Heng picked up the phone: “Who is this?”

The other party laughed: “Me, Chen Juan.”

Ah Heng’s tone turned cold: “What is it?”

“I thought you would thank me. Unexpectedly… this hurts our relationship as deskmates.” Chen Juan’s voice carried mockery.

“Where do you get all this self-importance from?” Ah Heng’s voice was ice-cold.

“Isn’t it true? I took over Yan Xi’s performance and prevented him from following in Ice’s footsteps. I think you must have seen how similar the dark, rebellious parts of Yan Xi and Ice’s personalities are.” Chen Juan’s tone was certain.

“You’ve always hated Yan Xi, haven’t you?” Ah Heng took a deep breath, speaking calmly.

“If you were me, if the person you were hopelessly infatuated with deeply cherished Yan Xi, what would you do?” The other party still smiled, speaking casually like chatting with an old friend.

“So, you took revenge on Yan Xi?” Her tone grew increasingly hard.

The other party chuckled: “That was my initial thought, but suddenly I felt tired, realized things weren’t as I imagined, and wanted to stop.

“You saw what happened later, although Yan Xi didn’t get what he wanted, I didn’t do anything unforgivable.” He felt completely justified.

“After all, I didn’t cause Yan Xi any real harm, right?”

However, he had nearly had his face ruined, which was truly depressing. Ah Heng’s impulse that day had completely exceeded his expectations. This girl was usually rational, and although she might not match that person’s cold intelligence, she was certainly no less clever and perceptive than Si Wan.

To this day, he still didn’t understand why Ah Heng had become so enraged that day, her explosive expression suggesting she wanted to kill him then and there.

Even Wen Si Wan hadn’t reacted like that – was it that his understanding was too shallow, or that she hid too deep?

The other end of the phone remained silent and cold. Chen Juan could hear that person’s breathing, surging and suppressed, clearly anger hidden in darkness that could not see the light.

After a long while, she spoke, exploding like thunder overhead: “Don’t fucking tell me you couldn’t see that what Yan Xi fears most isn’t ending up buried underground like that damn Ice but being abandoned by the whole world!”

This youth held the receiver, unable to move, unable to express his… shock.

This was the first time in his life he had heard Ah Heng use profanity.