Fang Li’s recovery after surgery had gone better than expected, thanks in large part to the hospital’s special treatment arrangements—and to Qin Weidong’s meticulous care. After all, patients who go through such a major operation and stay hospitalized for this long are usually left looking a bit disheveled, at the very least. But not Fang Li. When he was discharged, he was pristine from head to toe. If not for the unavoidable pain that came after the surgery, it would have seemed like he hadn’t suffered at all.
Since they had to leave for the U.S. before September, Qin Weidong had a mountain of things to take care of. The university was already decided, though Fang Li had forgotten which one exactly. He vaguely remembered it was somewhere in New York—a prestigious school with a long history—but the name itself escaped him. He complained to Qin Weidong, asking why he always waited until he was asleep to tell him important things.
Qin Weidong replied calmly, “I told you during the day.”
During the day? Fang Li didn’t buy it. While Qin Weidong was reviewing his books, he took a moment to forward the offer letter from his laptop to Fang Li. Fang Li glanced at it and huffed, “Are you taking advantage of the fact that I can’t read English?”
Qin Weidong explained that it was the business school at Columbia University. Fang Li nodded—he’d remember that now—but two days later, the only part he still recalled was that it was “some kind of ‘Columbia’ school.”
With so much on his plate, Qin Weidong had arranged for Fang Li to stay in a nearby hospital under the care of professional nurses. That way, he’d feel more at ease. But Fang Li flat-out refused. He could move around on his own now, eat, take medicine, and use the bathroom without help. Why should he stay in the hospital any longer? If anything, that was the last place he wanted to be. Qin Weidong was just being overly cautious.
He protested so strongly that Qin Weidong ended up consulting his doctor, who assured him there was no need to be so anxious. Judging by his checkup that week, Fang Li was recovering faster than most post-thoracotomy patients. He was young—just needed to rest and avoid overexerting himself. As long as he didn’t put too much strain on his heart and stuck to his follow-up schedule, everything should be fine. For the first two years, checkups every six months would suffice, and after that, once a year would be enough.
With the doctor’s approval, Qin Weidong finally completed the discharge paperwork, packed up Fang Li’s things, and brought him home. After more than a month away, Fang Li finally returned to the small villa they had left behind. When he went upstairs, he almost forgot which room was theirs. They had only just moved in when he was hospitalized, so he barely had time to enjoy the house.
Qin Weidong had hired a cleaner a few days earlier, so everything was spotless. Fang Li lay down on the bed, savoring the absence of the hospital’s harsh disinfectant smell. The imported needle that had been stuck in his hand every day was finally gone. Even the back of his hand, where the IV tape had pulled away all the little hairs, felt free.
“I’m hungry…”
Qin Weidong pulled a restaurant business card from his wallet and made a call. Before long, someone delivered four dishes and a soup. Fang Li picked up his chopsticks, gave the food a glance, and only then placed a piece of okra in his mouth. “Not as good as what Qi Jian makes…”
Qin Weidong shot him a look. “Qi Jian’s going home soon. Don’t start getting picky the moment you’re discharged.”
Fang Li thought for a moment and asked, “So how are we going to eat once we’re in America?”
“If I have time, I’ll cook. Or—”
Before Qin Weidong could finish, Fang Li let out an “Ah?”—a sound full of disappointment, his face falling with it.
Qin Weidong raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want to eat my cooking?”
“That’s not it…” Fang Li drooped over the table. Qin Weidong’s cooking wasn’t exactly great, but it wasn’t inedible either—just barely passable. He’d gotten used to it over time. But in these past days, Qi Jian had been serving up a variety of beautifully prepared dishes, full of color, aroma, and flavor. It’s easy to go from frugal to fancy, but hard to go back.
“Qin Weidong, can’t you bring Qi Jian with us to America?” Fang Li asked, pitifully.
Qin Weidong let out a cold laugh. “No.”
Fang Li sighed in disappointment. When Qin Weidong spooned up some steamed oyster egg—which Fang Li didn’t like—he ate it anyway, maybe because he was too sad about saying goodbye to Qi Jian.
……
Recently, Ding Haoyang and the others had been overwhelmed by the audition for a new band lead vocalist. On top of that, the agency had them practicing until late every night. By the time they dragged their exhausted bodies back to the dorms, they felt like their bones were coming apart. They had heard Fang Li was in the hospital, but assumed it was something minor. When they finally got a moment to call him, they were stunned to learn he’d undergone such a major operation.
Fang Li was still lying in bed. Qin Weidong had finished reading and was changing clothes at the bedside. Fang Li caught a glimpse of the black snake tattoo on his chest—startling every time—and covered the phone as he said to Ding Haoyang, “Oh, it’s nothing. Just patched up my heart a bit…”
“Patched up your heart?!”
Ding Haoyang nearly panicked. He bombarded Fang Li with questions over the phone. When he heard it had been open-heart surgery, the entire band was floored. They hadn’t realized it was so serious. They immediately asked for his address and said they’d come by around noon.
After hanging up, Qin Weidong said, “I asked the housekeeper to make you lunch today. I have to head back to work. Eat properly—no skipping.”
Fang Li nodded. Qin Weidong scooped him up from bed and carried him to the bathroom. He wiped Fang Li’s face with a hot towel until Fang Li finally woke up.
“You’re rubbing too hard… I’ll get wrinkles,” Fang Li muttered.
Qin Weidong lightened his touch a bit—when it came to these small matters, he usually let Fang Li have his way.
Fang Li asked miserably, “Do I still have to memorize those vocabulary words and sentences today?”
“If you can, then do it. If you can’t, it’s okay.” Qin Weidong didn’t want to pressure him. Worst case, he could just ask Ye Peilin for help. It was just a student visa—if Fang Li failed the interview, Ye Peilin could easily make a call and sort it out.
“When you first mentioned going, I didn’t really feel anything. But now, seeing the books you left me… English is really hard…” Back in high school, they never studied English. In their small town, finding an old man who could sweep the floor was easy. But finding a teacher who could actually teach English? That was a whole other story. Lately, he’d been looking at Qin Weidong’s books, and to him, those letters looked like a bunch of twisted tadpoles strung together—it gave him a headache. He’d been flipping through the same first page for days now.
“Do I have to study when I get to the U.S. too?” God, that would be the end of him.
“Do you want to study?” Qin Weidong asked, looking at him.
Fang Li thought for a moment, then shook his head. With toothpaste still in his mouth, he mumbled, “Not really. It’s too hard.”
Worried he’d swallow the foam, Qin Weidong brought a rinsing cup to his lips. “Rinse first, then talk.”
Fang Li gargled twice and spat it out.
His mindset had changed since the days he was determined to attend night school. Back then, things were hard, and he wanted to earn money—to take some of the burden off Qin Weidong. But now, Qin Weidong was the one handling all the money matters, and he earned far more than Fang Li ever could.
They weren’t struggling anymore. Human nature being what it is, when someone else takes care of your survival needs, your motivation to do it yourself diminishes. What’s more, over the years, Qin Weidong had made it pretty clear—even if subtly—that he didn’t want Fang Li out working. That had rubbed off on him, too.
Fang Li wrapped his arms around Qin Weidong’s neck. “I’ll just go with you while you study, okay? I’ve got things I like to do too—I like writing songs…”
Fang Li wasn’t delusional. He’d tried studying before, many times, and every attempt had confirmed he just wasn’t cut out for it. In China, he couldn’t even make it through a third-rate night school in a county town—wasted money and learned nothing. Why would going to America make it any different?
Rather than force something he wasn’t good at, Fang Li would rather pursue what he truly loved. Qin Weidong could take care of their livelihood. What he needed to focus on now were the things he enjoyed and cared about.
And Qin Weidong liked him just the way he was.
“If you don’t want to study, then don’t.”
Qin Weidong picked him up from the sink. He truly didn’t want Fang Li to pursue academics either. Fang Li wouldn’t be able to get into his university. Although Qin Weidong could pay to get him into a less prestigious school—that wouldn’t be difficult for the Qin family—it would raise the issue of distance between their schools. Qin Weidong had a lot to accomplish in the next four years, and not just academically. Every second mattered, and he couldn’t afford to waste time on commuting. More importantly, he couldn’t bear being apart from Fang Li. That’s why he preferred having Fang Li by his side every day, always within view, within reach—someone he could hug at any moment.
He hadn’t brought it up earlier because he didn’t know what to say if Fang Li did express a desire to study. But now that Fang Li had taken the initiative, it was the best outcome. It saved him a lot of trouble.
Fang Li said, “I could still work in the U.S…”
Qin Weidong shot him a glare.
Fang Li chuckled. “Washing dishes? Waiting tables? I can do all of that.”
Qin Weidong said flatly, “Only over my dead body.”
Fang Li giggled. “When we get to the U.S., I want a piano. You already promised me one.”
“Yes, of course.”
Aside from that, Fang Li didn’t want much. He added, “Oh, right. At noon, Ding Haoyang and the others said they were coming to visit me. I didn’t tell them I was sick before, but now that they know I’ve been discharged, they want to come by…”
“What are they coming to see you for?”
Qin Weidong had been about to leave, but now he stopped. His tone alone made it clear how much he disliked Ding Haoyang and his crowd.
“Can you not make that face every time I mention them? They’re my friends…” At least, that’s how Fang Li felt. If not for Ding Haoyang, someone like him would never have discovered his passion and talent for music. It was Ding Haoyang who had given him a brief taste of standing on stage—even if it was in a nightclub. But that feeling of being gathered into the spotlight… was something Qin Weidong couldn’t give him. So Fang Li remained grateful to Ding Haoyang.
Qin Weidong didn’t want to argue about those people. He glanced at the time—Qin Zhengrong was coming home for lunch, and he had to arrive early. He said, “They can come see you. But you’re not going with them to any music companies.”
Fang Li nodded vaguely. “Mm, I know…”
Qin Weidong looked at him again and added, “Auntie will be here at noon. I’ll have her keep an eye on you.”
Fang Li widened his eyes. “Do you have to be like this?”
Qin Weidong replied, “If you gave me less reason to worry, I wouldn’t have to.”
Fang Li scoffed, “Ever since I got out of the hospital, it’s like I’ve been in your prison! You’re the warden, and I’m the inmate. If you keep acting like this after we get to the U.S., I’m seriously going to be pissed.”
Qin Weidong didn’t respond. “What do you want for lunch?”
“Whatever you like.”
“How many of them are coming over?”
“Four.”
“All right.”
With it left to Qin Weidong, everything would be taken care of. After he left, Fang Li lay in bed for a while, flipped through the English conversation book Qin Weidong had given him, and, not understanding a word, tossed it onto the pillow. Then his phone rang. It was Ding Haoyang calling.
Not everyone had a cell phone back then. Ding Haoyang had borrowed the gatekeeper’s phone. Looking at all the villas inside the community, he and Yang San were starting to wonder if they’d come to the wrong place.
“Fang Li, are we in the right place? This neighborhood’s full of villas!”
“Yeah, you’re in the right place. I’m at number 12. Tell the gatekeeper, he’ll explain how to get here. I’ll buzz you in.”
When Ding Haoyang and the others arrived and saw the three-story Western-style house with a small yard, they were dumbfounded. Yang San smacked his own face to snap out of it, then elbowed Ding Haoyang and muttered, “Fang Li… actually lives in a villa here in Jinyang? Damn! His family’s loaded!”
“I had no idea either.”
Ding Haoyang was shocked too. He remembered back when they were in night school—Fang Li had once been so devastated over losing three thousand yuan that he couldn’t eat or drink for days. And wasn’t it because of that lost money that he started going with them to sing at nightclubs? What kind of rich kid would willingly do that?
Fang Li had already slipped on his slippers and come downstairs to open the door. “Hey, you’re here.”
As they came in, Fang Li pulled slippers out of the shoe cabinet for them to change into. Ding Haoyang looked around at the décor and the chandelier above them and asked, “Fang Li, this is your home in Jinyang?”
“Yeah.”
Even Chen Xin, who’d come in behind them, looked stunned. His family had a bit of money, but in a major provincial capital like Jinyang, they couldn’t even begin to call themselves rich. They definitely couldn’t afford a villa like this. And this seemed to be a brand-new development in the city’s new district, where land prices had been climbing steadily. A stand-alone villa here couldn’t be cheap.
Ding Haoyang threw an arm around Fang Li’s shoulders. “Wow, Fang Li, so you were just playing dumb this whole time, huh? Why didn’t you tell us your family’s loaded?!”
“Brother, I just had surgery! I just had surgery…!” Fang Li cried out in pain, and only then did Ding Haoyang hurriedly let go of him.
Fang Li told them that he’d just undergone open-heart surgery for a congenital heart condition. Yang San and the others were stunned. Wu Ke asked anxiously how it had gotten so serious.
“It’s an old problem. I was born with it, but it wasn’t discovered until the last couple of years. I had the surgery recently. I’m fine now—the doctor said I’m recovering well.”
When Yang San heard that they’d actually opened up Fang Li’s chest for the procedure, he broke into a cold sweat on his behalf. “Why didn’t you tell us earlier? You’re not our lead singer anymore, but still—we were bandmates! We used to sing together! Keeping something like this from us… That’s not cool, man!”
Fang Li couldn’t help but laugh when he heard the phrase “lead singer.” Looking back now, he had no idea what he’d been thinking back then, actually daring to dress as a woman and lip-sync on stage.
As the group entered the house, the others wandered off to explore. Ding Haoyang lingered at the back. He had noticed the leather shoes in the shoe cabinet earlier—several pairs clearly weren’t Fang Li’s size. He pulled Fang Li aside and asked in a low voice, “Is this house your friend Qin Weidong’s place? Are you guys still living together?”
Fang Li replied, “We’ve been living together all along.”
Ding Haoyang paused, stunned. Fang Li shrugged. “Didn’t think I could hide it from you. Just… don’t tell anyone, okay?”
It took Ding Haoyang a moment to process. He was practically holding his breath as he asked, “Wait… you mean you two are really… that kind of relationship?”
From the moment Qin Weidong had taken Fang Li away outside the nightclub, to when Fang Li followed him to Jinyang, and then what had happened at the music store—it had all added up. Ding Haoyang was an adult, not an idiot. He could put two and two together.
Fang Li said, “We always have been.”
A storm rose in Ding Haoyang’s heart. “Do you realize… this is…”
“This is some kind of illness?” Fang Li looked down. “If that’s what you think, then we…” Then they really had nothing more to say. Fang Li valued Ding Haoyang as a friend—one of the few he had—and he was grateful to him for introducing him to music. But if he had to weigh that against Qin Weidong… No, there was no comparison.
“Fang Li, how could you be so stupid? Was it his idea to make you do this?” Ding Haoyang’s voice was anxious, worried for him.
Fang Li said, “It’s complicated. I can’t explain everything all at once. But this is who we are, and we’re not going to change.”
Ding Haoyang didn’t know what to say. He let out a long sigh, as if slowly releasing all the shock and disbelief from the past minute, hoping he could breathe through it and absorb even a fraction of what he’d just learned. After a long while, he said, “Well… if that’s how it is, then that’s how it is.”
Fang Li was taken aback. “Huh?”
Ding Haoyang was breathing hard—in, out, in, out—as he tried to calm himself down. “Actually… artists tend to be a bit rebellious by nature. It’s called being free from worldly constraints. You’re so talented, after all—it’s not unusual for someone like you to do things others don’t understand, to be drawn to things—or people—others can’t appreciate… including, well… gender…”
He really couldn’t convince himself that what he was saying made sense. He never imagined Fang Li would like men—much less actually be in a relationship with one. What were they going to do in the future? So many thoughts swirled through his head that, after a long pause, all he could squeeze out was: “I mean… I guess I can understand.”
Fang Li chuckled. “You talking all high and mighty like that is hilarious.”
Ding Haoyang finally exhaled the last bit of air stuck in his chest. “Damn it, you really scared the hell out of me! But listen, don’t tell anyone about this—not Wu Ke, not Yang San. And especially not Brother Han.”
“Your manager?” Fang Li asked. “Why would I tell him?” It’s not like he was mentally ill—why would he need to declare to everyone that he was gay?
Ding Haoyang rolled his eyes at him. “You don’t know—ever since he saw you at the music shop, he’s had his eye on you. Said you’ve got the potential to make it big. He was waiting for you to come find him. But you never showed. He was even planning to go track you down recently. We told him you were sick, so he dropped the idea for now…”
Fang Li was about to say he was leaving for the U.S., when his aunt came out of the kitchen and called them to eat.
The group had taken several buses from the agency dorm to get here, and they were starving. They all gathered at the dining table. After touring Fang Li’s home, Yang San and the others saw him in a new light.
“Fang Li, why didn’t you ever tell us your family’s this rich? We always thought Chen Xin was the one slumming it for the experience. Turns out you’re the real rich kid in the band.”
Yang San added with a frown, “But if your family’s loaded, why’d you go sing in drag with us at that nightclub? That had to be humiliating.”
Fang Li replied, “I wasn’t lying to you. Back when we sang at the club together, I was broke as hell—had nothing in my pockets. But hey, no one stays poor forever.”
When Ding Haoyang heard Fang Li casually say that people don’t stay poor forever, he thought of how rough things had been for their band over the past year. They had believed coming to Jinyang would be the start of fame and fortune. But once they signed the contract, reality hit hard. One setback after another shattered their dreams and left them feeling lost about the road ahead.
But Fang Li could say those words so casually—it was a feeling Ding Haoyang couldn’t quite describe. It was as if someone had always lived that kind of life beside Fang Li, so it felt only natural to him to believe that people don’t stay poor forever.
After dinner, Fang Li brought his sheet music down from upstairs and handed it to Ding Haoyang. “Can you ask your company if they’d be willing to buy my songs? I left too abruptly last time, then ended up in the hospital… But now…” He glanced at his aunt, who was still in the kitchen washing dishes. “I’m not really in a position to go out right now—I’m still recovering, and the doctor doesn’t want me moving around too much. Just ask them for me, and if they’re not interested, I’ll try somewhere else.”
Ding Haoyang took the sheet music and tucked it away. “Don’t worry, Brother Han definitely likes your songs. He thought you were playing hard to get, honestly. But are you really not going to be our lead vocalist? We still haven’t picked anyone. I think Brother Han had his sights set on you…”
“I’m really not. Next month, Qin Weidong and I are going to the U.S.”
“The U.S.…?” Ding Haoyang echoed, before the meaning of the words hit him full force. His eyes widened. “Wait, WHAT?! You and him are going to the U.S.?!”
Fang Li nodded.
Ding Haoyang stared at him, dumbfounded. “Why so sudden? Why the U.S., out of nowhere?”
“It’s a long story…”
“Is he the one going?” Ding Haoyang asked.
Fang Li nodded again.
And just like that, Ding Haoyang didn’t know what to say anymore. To kids like them, from average families in small towns, a place like America—the vast, dazzling world of it—was a dream far beyond their reach, something they might never dare imagine for themselves.
“I really can’t be your lead singer. I do love singing, and I told him I wanted to do it—but you’ve seen it too, he’s never been a fan. And now that we’re leaving for the U.S., it’s even less likely. It’s just not going to happen…”
Ding Haoyang had already received too many shocks for one day. His brain felt like it couldn’t hold any more.
Fang Li said, “Don’t forget to ask, okay? If I can sell the songs before we leave the country, that’d be ideal.”
Ding Haoyang nodded. “No problem. Leave it to me.”
The band said goodbye to Fang Li. As Ding Haoyang prepared to leave with Fang Li’s sheet music in hand, his eyes fell on a car parked in the garage—a black Audi. He remembered that the first time he had seen Qin Weidong outside the nightclub, the man had been driving a Toyota.
He didn’t know why, but it felt to Ding Haoyang like, in these short two years, the gap between them and Fang Li had grown wider and wider. No—between them and that man, Qin Weidong. Their musical dreams now seemed like a distant moon, faint and unreachable—while that man, in just two years, had climbed and crossed boundaries they’d never even imagined.
Axolotl Translations 
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