The moment the woman saw Qin Weidong, a flicker of surprise and delight flashed in her eyes before quickly vanishing.
Fang Li returned from his call. “Something came up… I have to go,” he said quickly.
Ding Haoyang frowned. “Huh? We haven’t even finalized the song yet.”
Fang Li gathered the sheet music and stuffed it into his backpack. “If you all have time another day, I’ll come by the company. But I really need to leave now.”
Han Jin was never in a rush to sign someone. He could tell at a glance this kid truly loved music. But he also clearly had no idea how the industry worked. They’d seen plenty of young hopefuls like him—most of them signed eventually anyway.
“Of course,” Han Jin said, handing him a card. “Here’s my business card. A few songs for the album are already confirmed, but come by soon if you have time. You can check out the company while you’re there.”
Fang Li took it. “Thanks.”
Just as their conversation ended, a black sedan pulled up to the curb in front of the music store. Someone inside honked, and almost at the same moment, Fang Li’s phone rang again.
He picked up, clearly annoyed. “I’m coming, I’m coming—stop rushing me already!” He waved goodbye, slung his backpack over one shoulder, and got into the car. Han Jin glanced curiously in that direction and saw a man behind the wheel.
The moment Fang Li sat down, he could feel the oppressive atmosphere radiating from Qin Weidong.
They were supposed to move into the new house today. Fang Li didn’t want to start a fight. “Alright, alright, quit scolding me already,” he said. “I just picked up some sheet music and stopped by the music store for a minute, that’s all…”
Qin Weidong didn’t even look at him. Staring straight ahead, he replied coolly, “Do I need to set a rule that you call me every two hours on the dot?” There was no mistaking the threat in that tone.
Fang Li inhaled slowly, then exhaled through gritted teeth. His chest felt tight, like something inside was swelling up, about to burst.
“Oh, so next time I go take a crap, should I report that to you too?” he snapped. “If you want me to use stall number three, I won’t even look at number one! Is that what you want?!”
Qin Weidong turned to glance at him, clearly taken aback.
Fang Li cursed himself for not having more backbone and looked away. Come on, he thought. It’s not like I haven’t grown at all these past two years. At least I’ve figured out one thing: don’t talk back when Qin Weidong’s about to explode. It’s just a phone call—or three. No big deal, right?
As Qin Weidong turned at the intersection and continued straight toward the new district, Fang Li asked, “Is the new place far from the music store?”
Qin Weidong replied with a brief, “Mm.” Then he added, “We’re handing over the old apartment to the company in the next couple of days. A renovation company handled the new place. If you need anything added, just let me know—I’ll have them buy it.”
Fang Li shook his head. Then he asked, “Can we get a piano?”
“I thought you played guitar.”
“I picked up a bit of piano from the owner at the music shop. I’m still not that good, though.” He enjoyed writing music, and a properly tuned piano would make things much easier.
Qin Weidong nodded. “Sure.”
Fang Li felt reassured. He cracked the window a little, letting the night breeze drift in. Outside, the skyline glittered with neon lights, the buildings growing taller and sleeker the deeper they drove into the new district.
Truthfully, he didn’t care much about where they lived. Ever since arriving in Jinyang, they’d finally had a stable place to call home. He could play music, write songs, and his job at the music store wasn’t demanding. That was already enough for him.
After more than half an hour on the road, just as Fang Li was starting to drift off, the car pulled into a gated villa community. They passed several standalone houses before their car rolled into the garage of one.
The moment Fang Li felt himself being lifted, he woke up. In front of him was a beautiful three-story house, styled like a Western villa—the kind developers loved to market these days. There was even a small front garden, though no one had tended to it. It was mostly weeds and looked rather empty.
“You can plant flowers here?”
“Yeah.”
Qin Weidong carried him out of the car. Fang Li really was exhausted. Lately, fatigue hit him harder and faster, though it didn’t show much during the day. But by nighttime, it felt like something deep inside—his body’s core—couldn’t carry him anymore. Even breathing had started to feel heavy.
Qin Weidong’s face didn’t show the slightest hint of joy about moving into a new home. On the contrary, seeing how quickly Fang Li had fallen asleep during such a short drive made his expression visibly darken. During dinner that night, Fang Li’s doctor had called—his test results from the hospital stay had come in. None of the indicators looked good. The surgery needed to happen as soon as possible.
Fang Li forced himself to stay awake a little longer, glancing around again. Outside, the bronze fence lights lit up at intervals, casting a soft, gentle glow.
“Can we raise chickens here too?” Back when his grandma was still alive, she used to keep chickens and ducks in their yard—slaughtering them for New Year’s.
“No,” Qin Weidong said. It would smell too much.
Fang Li patted Qin Weidong’s shoulder. Understanding the gesture, Qin Weidong adjusted his hold, shifting Fang Li into a more comfortable, forward-facing position. Fang Li was satisfied—he could breathe more easily this way.
“But it still feels like a waste. Just the two of us, and this house is too big. Feng Hui said the property management fees here are really expensive.”
Qin Weidong fished the keys from his pocket and opened the door. “Did you tell your boss you’re quitting?”
“Mm…” Fang Li rested his head against Qin Weidong’s shoulder. When Qin Weidong turned on the living room lights, Fang Li finally answered, “Not yet. I don’t want to quit.”
The chandelier in the living room was dazzling. A beautiful European-style fixture, it had two tiers. Fang Li counted—sixteen individual lights.
Qin Weidong had been here before. He placed the car keys on the foyer table, took off Fang Li’s shoes, slipped into house slippers himself, and carried Fang Li upstairs.
Fang Li wiggled his feet. “This place is huge. I haven’t even changed my shoes yet.”
“I’m carrying you. You don’t need to.”
Maybe it was because of the way Fang Li had acted in the car earlier, but Qin Weidong seemed unusually patient now. “The doctor called me tonight. You can’t delay the surgery any longer. I pulled some strings to get you a bed in the cardiology department at the provincial hospital. You’ll need to be admitted in a few days. You won’t be able to work at the music store anymore.”
Fang Li looked around the second floor, still unable to believe this enormous house would be their home. “I thought you said I couldn’t have surgery right now.”
“We still have to try. I’ll see if we can get a specialist to consult.”
Fang Li nodded. He trusted what Qin Weidong said. Qin didn’t take him on a tour of the house—Fang Li would have plenty of time to explore later. Seeing how tired he was, Qin set him gently on the bed. The mattress was soft and welcoming.
“This bed’s more than twice the size of the one we had in Chongsi…”
Fang Li was overwhelmed by an indescribable feeling. Watching Qin Weidong climb ever higher, step by step—it was hard to believe. That boy he’d picked up off the street back then had taken him out of the mountains, brought him to the provincial capital, paid off his debts, and given him a life far beyond anything he’d ever imagined… a life of comfort and abundance.
Qin Weidong, still holding his phone, kissed the tip of Fang Li’s nose. “If you’re tired, sleep. Don’t worry about showering tonight. I need to call the hospital and ask about a few things.”
“Mm,” Fang Li faintly responded. Ever since he’d fainted last time, they’d been intimate far less often.
Just as Qin Weidong was about to leave, Fang Li called him back. “Oh, right. Our boss at the music store introduced me to a talent manager from a music company today. He said he liked a song I wrote. Before I go to the hospital, can I sell the song?”
“A manager?”
“That’s what he said…” Fang Li didn’t dare mention anything about a vocalist audition. He looped his arms around Qin Weidong’s neck. “Please? You’ve got your career, and I don’t want to just be someone with nothing to do. If someone sings one of my songs someday, I’d really be happy…”
Qin Weidong glanced at him. After spending real money to support him all this time in Jinyang, Fang Li had completely shed the anxiety and stinginess that once came from struggling to survive. Now, he looked like a pearl once dulled by mud and grit, gradually restored to its natural luster through careful care. He didn’t even need to speak; just sitting there in silence, Fang Li still drew the eye. His nose, his eyes—it made you wonder how the Creator could be so biased.
“What else did he say?”
“Say what?” Fang Li feigned ignorance.
Qin Weidong wasn’t so naive. A talent agent from an entertainment company? If he’d seen Fang Li, he definitely wouldn’t be interested in just his music.
“No.” Qin Weidong’s sharp gaze locked on him. His eyes narrowed as he stared at Fang Li’s face. “Absolutely not. Don’t even think about it. Don’t meet him behind my back. No matter what it is, the answer is no.”
Fang Li felt something swell uncomfortably in his chest. He’d told Qin Weidong countless times—he hated it when he used that commanding tone with him. But looking at Qin Weidong now, he realized something else. The changes over the past two years had been enormous—too fast, too much. He was no longer the mine owner’s son. And somehow, without even noticing it, he and Qin Weidong had ended up standing on uneven ground.
A wave of irritation swept over him. Even the softness of the bed didn’t bring him the joy it had moments ago.
“Do you have to keep being like this? Don’t I get to make decisions for myself? I have things I want too…”
“What is it that you want?” Qin Weidong’s voice took on a note of displeasure. “Selling your song or signing a contract—either way, it’s just about making a bit of money. I can give you that. Take any card at home, use it however you want. If you want a house or a car, I can give you those too. After your surgery, whatever you want, I’ll buy it for you. I can give you everything.”
“But you don’t know what I really want—you never listen. You should at least hear what I’m thinking!” Fang Li turned his head away, sulking. He wasn’t someone completely ignorant, but every time he talked to Qin Weidong about this, he somehow came off as immature.
He was trying. He’d been learning to be more obedient. He knew Qin Weidong was deeply worried about his illness, and he’d been trying his best to ease that burden. He’d learned to compromise, to stop making trouble. He didn’t make a fuss over the little things anymore—like how Qin Weidong insisted that he answer his phone immediately, no matter what. Just earlier, in the car, when Qin Weidong threatened him like that, he had held back his anger and smoothed it over with a joke. He kept telling himself: these were all minor things. He could bear with them. For the sake of their relationship, he could endure.
But when it came to music, it was different. He genuinely loved it. It was the one thing he truly cared about. And yet, the moment it came up, he always found himself unable to say anything. He was afraid of Qin Weidong getting angry. Afraid that, without even listening, he’d simply say no. He wanted to go to the audition. He wanted to see if he could really sing. But it seemed like Qin Weidong didn’t care at all.
Fang Li felt stifled. He pulled the blanket over his head. Qin Weidong checked the time, then leaned over and kissed him through the covers. “I already said no. Stop thinking about it. Go to sleep. I have to make a call.”
……
Over the next two days, Qin Weidong was busy wrapping up work with Feng Hui and coordinating Fang Li’s surgery. Specialists at the provincial hospital weren’t easy to schedule, so he ended up calling Wei Jianghe, hoping he could help get in touch with the top cardiologist at the hospital.
When Wei Jianghe heard he had a younger brother in the hospital, he asked which wing and building they were in. Much to Qin Weidong’s surprise, he agreed without hesitation and quickly arranged for a note to be passed along to the hospital. On the day the internal consultation was scheduled for Fang Li, Secretary Li even showed up in person.
Fang Li’s attending physician was the director of cardiology—a well-known name in the field. After reviewing the thick stack of test results, his brow furrowed deeply.
In the past few days, Fang Li had been transferred from one hospital to another, pushed from one examination room to the next. Even he could tell that things were serious this time.
The boy in the bed next to his had a similar condition, also waiting for surgery. Like Fang Li, he hadn’t undergone an operation yet. Every day was a cycle of IV drips and checkups. Fang Li overheard the boy’s mother saying that the ones who could go into surgery right away were the lucky ones. The real fear was for those who couldn’t be operated on at all.
Ding Haoyang hadn’t seen him in days and called to ask when he’d be coming by the company again. Fang Li didn’t know how to answer. There was still an IV needle in the back of his hand. All he could say was that he was hospitalized and wouldn’t be able to visit anytime soon.
Fang Li knew Qin Weidong had pulled every string he could, but the situation didn’t seem promising. Technically, the two of them were still in a cold war, but seeing how anxious Qin Weidong had become, Fang Li’s heart softened.
According to the doctors, he would need to stay in the hospital for quite some time while they worked out the safest possible surgical plan. No one knew exactly how long that would take—Qin Weidong hadn’t said, and Fang Li didn’t ask.
One day, Qin Weidong took him downstairs to buy a toothbrush and toothpaste. Fang Li looked at the shadows under his eyes and knew he hadn’t been sleeping for days, all because of him.
At the register, Qin Weidong took out his wallet just as his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and handed the wallet to Fang Li. “You pay.” Then he stepped outside to take the call.
Fang Li paid and walked out. What he saw froze him in place.
Qin Weidong was standing by the entrance, phone still in hand, body frozen as if every word from the call had struck him motionless.
“Qin Weidong…?” Fang Li called.
Following Qin Weidong’s line of sight, he saw a strikingly elegant woman stepping down from a car. She was followed by a few bodyguards. The moment her eyes met Qin Weidong’s, a storm of disbelief, joy, and astonishment burst in her gaze. Her tears spilled over instantly. She nearly collapsed and fell into the arms of the man beside her.
Her husband caught her firmly and held her close. He was tall and imposing, with striking features that bore an uncanny resemblance to Qin Weidong’s—the same prominent brow bones, but a frame even more solid, more steadfast, like a mountain. As he held his wife and looked toward them, his weathered eyes also trembled with a barely suppressed emotion.
Axolotl Translations 
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