Just a couple of days later, Han Jin spotted a golden opportunity.
A director he knew from the mainland was about to release a romance film in Hong Kong and Taiwan. The current trend was to pre-release the theme song on radio stations to generate buzz ahead of the movie’s premiere. Coincidentally, the original singer for the theme song had just been caught in a scandal in Hong Kong—something about stalking fans—and the media was having a field day.
The production team was in a panic, scrambling to find a replacement. Han Jin immediately recommended Fang Li.
These days, pairing movies with theme songs had become a well-oiled star-making machine in Hong Kong and Taiwan. A few previously unknown singers had skyrocketed to fame simply by performing for films. Fang Li, with his flawless, refined looks, was exactly the type young girls in those markets adored. Since Waves Music was producing the song, Han Jin sent over one of Fang Li’s old demo recordings.
Unexpectedly, the production team instantly fell in love with Fang Li’s clear, pure vocals. They sent him a demo cut of the theme song and asked him to record a test version. If it sounded good, they’d forward it to the distributors in Hong Kong.
The movie hadn’t premiered yet, so they only sent a short excerpt. Fang Li recorded it in the studio, but the air conditioning was broken, making the small space feel like a sauna. Even Yang Yuecheng was sweating all over the equipment and finally suggested they call it a day and come back tomorrow.
Fang Li left the company drenched in sweat. He was buying an ice cream at a nearby newsstand when he heard someone shouting from across the street:
“Fang Li! Over here! Get in the car!”
It was Feng Hui. He was behind the wheel, with Qi Jian waving at him from the passenger seat.
Why was Feng Hui here?
Fang Li assumed he had something urgent to discuss. He waved back, ice cream still in hand, motioning for them to wait as he paid. Then he walked over to the car.
“What are you doing here? Don’t tell me you’re here to convince me to—”
But just as he bent down to open the car door, his eyes fell on a pair of long legs in the backseat.
And then, when he looked up—
Of course. Of course it was him. The man he was so painfully familiar with that he could recognize him by scent alone.
Fang Li froze mid-motion, ice cream in hand. Then, in the next second, he backed out and slammed the door shut.
The man inside panicked and immediately reached out to stop him.
“Lili…!”
But Fang Li wasn’t listening. Fueled by anger, he yanked the door closed with full force. The man didn’t pull his hand back in time, and the door slammed hard—right onto the back of his hand.
“What are you doing?! Couldn’t you see I was closing the door?!”
Fang Li was startled too. He rushed to open the door again.
Qin Weidong had flown over twenty hours on international flights to get here. The moment he landed, he came straight to find Fang Li—he hadn’t stopped for even a second. His knuckles were throbbing in pain.
But he didn’t care. As long as Fang Li didn’t walk away the second he saw him, he could take a few more door slams if needed.
He clung to the car frame and said: “Baby…”
When Qin Weidong called his name, Fang Li’s heart gave a painful lurch. From the front seat, Feng Hui hurriedly interjected, “Hey now… let’s not do this in the middle of the street. Fang Li, Qin Weidong’s come all this way—just get in the car. Whatever it is, we can talk it out later.”
This bastard definitely did it on purpose…! Fang Li glared at Qin Weidong and cursed under his breath. He couldn’t cause a scene out here, so he got in the car.
Inside, he glanced at Qin Weidong, whom he hadn’t seen in over two weeks. The man’s hand was still red and bruised where the door had slammed on it, the skin broken and a deep mark left behind. The sight made Fang Li’s heart ache with both anger and guilt. He turned his head away. “Aren’t you busier than the Premier? What are you doing here?”
“You won’t answer me. I had no choice but to come,” Qin Weidong replied.
Fang Li stiffened and huffed. “Don’t pin this on me—I never forced you to come.”
Did he ask him to?
As soon as he said it, Qin Weidong seemed to lose all restraint. He suddenly reached over and pulled Fang Li into his arms. The movement was abrupt and dramatic inside the car, making Fang Li jump and struggle. “What are you doing?! Let go of me!”
He had longed for this—day in, day out—and now that he finally had Fang Li in front of him, there was no way he was letting go. He cradled Fang Li on his lap, wrapping him in his arms as the younger man hit him and pulled at his hair. But Qin Weidong didn’t loosen his grip in the slightest. He buried his face in the curve of Fang Li’s neck, his voice hoarse: “Lili… I was wrong. You didn’t force me. I just—can’t live without you. Not being able to see you… I really couldn’t take it anymore.”
Fang Li kept struggling, but Qin Weidong held him tight—impossibly tight. His familiar warmth and scent surrounded him like a net, and Fang Li’s body went slack, nearly melting against him.
He braced himself on Qin Weidong’s chest, all the pent-up grievances he’d tried to bury these past few days rushing up at once, like a faucet turned on full blast. “You couldn’t take it anymore? Funny, I sure couldn’t tell. When you hit me, I really thought you were going to beat me to death!”
Just the mention of that made Qin Weidong’s heart seize with pain. He hadn’t slept a single night since. Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was Fang Li’s tear-streaked face. How could he have gone mad enough to hit someone who hated pain as much as Fang Li did? His hand hovered at Fang Li’s waistband, but with others in the car, he didn’t go further. “Let me take a look… when we get back, okay?”
“Screw you! Who wants a bastard like you to look?!”
Hearing that familiar low voice coaxing him so gently, Fang Li’s heart ached with swollen, sponge-like resentment. It hurt so badly he could barely stand it. He raised a hand and smacked Qin Weidong on the head. “Do you even know how much it hurt? How much I was hurting then?! How much?!”
Feng Hui and the others were still in the front. Fang Li kept his voice down, but every word dripped with fury. His eyes were red, wet with barely contained tears. Qin Weidong knew how much he had hurt him. Knew he had suffered. His heart broke. He grabbed Fang Li’s hand—and then, without warning, lifted his own hand and slapped himself across the face.
Smack! The sound rang out loud in the enclosed space.
For a moment, the car was dead silent.
Feng Hui kept his eyes locked straight ahead, determinedly focused on driving. Qi Jian looked so stiff it was as if he didn’t know what to do with his limbs—or his ears or eyes.
Fang Li stared in shock, frozen.
Then Qin Weidong turned to him, voice thick with remorse: “Lili, I was wrong. I promise you—starting now, only you are allowed to hit me. I’ll never lay a hand on you again.”
They had been arguing, coaxing, and scuffling in the car, but all in hushed voices—just between the two of them. But when Qin Weidong slapped himself, he used full force. That loud, resounding smack cut through the air, and the promise and apology he uttered were clear and resolute, with no attempt to dodge, hide, or soften anything—especially not for Feng Hui and Qi Jian, who were definitely within earshot in the front seats.
“Are you crazy?!”
Fang Li finally snapped out of it. He was desperately trying to hint to Qin Weidong that there were two living, breathing witnesses up front—if you want to lose your mind, at least wait until we’re home! But Qin Weidong seemed completely oblivious to his cues. He picked up Fang Li’s hand again and, without hesitation, landed another heavy slap on his own face.
“Lili, I was wrong. From now on, only you have the right to lay a hand on me—never again will I raise one against you.”
That was the second time.
Fang Li stood there stunned, mouth agape. Qin Weidong had seized his wrist and held it high, refusing to let go. In the front, Feng Hui had decided to act like they were invisible, while Qi Jian hadn’t dared to breathe since the first slap.
Panicked, Fang Li reached to cover Qin Weidong’s mouth. “Have you lost your mind?! Are you crazy?! We’re still in the car—Feng Hui and Qi Jian are right there! Have you no shame? Even if you don’t, I still do!”
“I know.”
Qin Weidong grabbed his wrist again and brought his hand down with yet another merciless slap.
Smack! It was louder than the last, harder too. The sharp sound rang crystal-clear in the confined car space, falling into everyone’s ears like a thunderclap.
“I was wrong,” Qin Weidong said, word by word. “From now on, only you get to hit me. I’ll never lay a hand on you again.”
Oh God… oh God!
Did he go insane on the plane?
Fang Li was utterly stunned. Qin Weidong was holding his wrist and kept slapping himself with it—each one harder than the last, louder than the one before. After every slap, he repeated the same line: he was wrong, only Fang Li had the right to hit him now, never again the other way around.
One slap after another, loud and sharp, echoed through the car, until Feng Hui’s own face and teeth began to ache. He couldn’t help but think, thank God I never went for someone like Fang Li. Qin Weidong was truly something else—doing something so mortifying just to make his lover forgive him.
“Enough! That’s enough!”
Seeing that Qin Weidong was about to make him deliver the eighth, the ninth blow, Fang Li screamed. He finally wrestled free of Qin Weidong’s grip. His own hand stung painfully now—never mind the one being slapped. Qin Weidong’s cheek was already covered in overlapping red marks.
“Did it hurt?” Qin Weidong noticed. He gently took Fang Li’s palm, which was now flushed red from the impact. Despite having taken so many hits himself without even blinking, now, seeing Fang Li’s palm reddened, he frowned—probably cursing himself—and softly asked, “Does your hand hurt?”
“Of course it hurts… it hurts like hell! Who said you could use my hand to hit yourself?!”
Fang Li, still being held by the palm, was full of grievance and heartache. He scolded, not even sure if he was berating himself or Qin Weidong. Qin Weidong frowned, gently lowered his head, and blew softly on Fang Li’s palm with a heart full of regret. “You said you’d only forgive me if I did this.”
“When did I ever say that…!”
Halfway through his sentence, Fang Li suddenly remembered what he’d said two nights ago. He instantly shot a dagger-like glare at Feng Hui. “Feng Hui! Did you tell him behind my back?! That was… that was just me venting! And you told him even that?!”
“Swear to God, it wasn’t me!” Feng Hui quickly threw up his hands in surrender. “He called me! I didn’t say anything… I told him you were just angry and didn’t mean it! But he still took it seriously. Treated it like gospel! I couldn’t stop him…”
Feng Hui’s words sounded entirely sincere. Fang Li turned to glare at Qin Weidong again, but all Qin Weidong saw was the redness of Fang Li’s palm. He kept gently blowing on it and said, “I wanted to know. Lili, if you’re still not satisfied, we’ll keep going when we get home. You’ll see—I’ll keep doing it myself… until you’re satisfied.”
“Like hell you will!”
Fang Li really didn’t know what to do with Qin Weidong anymore. His anger and heartache were all tangled up. Qin Weidong said he was helpless when it came to him? The truth was it had always been Fang Li who had no defense against Qin Weidong since they were kids—he was always completely caught in Qin Weidong’s grip.
All of Fang Li’s belongings were still in Qi Jian’s apartment. When they reached the building, Feng Hui—extremely tactfully—drove off with Qi Jian.
In his heart, Feng Hui thought: Qin Weidong really had it rough, going all out just to win his wife back. If they actually went back and kept hitting like that, how would the CEO show his face at work tomorrow? Most importantly, Qi Jian couldn’t see this again—if he picked up that habit, Feng Hui would be the first to suffer.
Qi Jian’s apartment complex was a simple workers’ housing unit. Qin Weidong, long used to upscale apartments in New York, noticed a stack of coal briquettes on the stairwell—someone had left them for the winter, with bits of coal dust spilling everywhere.
He lifted Fang Li into his arms.
“What are you doing…! What if someone comes down?!”
“Your shoes will get dirty.”
Qin Weidong glanced down, frowned, and asked, “You’ve been staying here these days?”
Fang Li let out a humph as he fished out his keys. With his other hand, he smacked Qin Weidong lightly on the head. “What’s wrong with here? It’s not fit for people? Back then, we would’ve been lucky to have a place like this. Oh right… I forgot… Young Master Qin’s status is different now. Of course you wouldn’t look twice at a place like this…”
He pulled out his keys, but Qin Weidong took them and unlocked the door himself. Before Fang Li’s feet could touch the ground, Qin Weidong had him up on the shoe cabinet, pressing a fierce and desperate kiss to his lips.
It was a kiss of overwhelming longing and entanglement.
Qin Weidong couldn’t be satisfied with just kissing his lips, nor with tasting his tongue—it wasn’t nearly enough. With a burst of uncontrollable, repressed longing and aggression, he engulfed Fang Li’s tongue in his mouth and sucked hard, like a wild beast who had circled for days and finally found its den. He bit and ravaged him, as though even that couldn’t express the intensity of the longing he had endured over these ten-odd days apart.
Even though they had only been apart for just over half a month—just over half a month—it already felt far too long.
Fang Li was pinned beneath the force of the kiss, almost gasping for air from how Qin Weidong devoured every breath around him. Yet even so… it still didn’t feel like enough.
He had to admit, this past half month—despite the anger, frustration, pain, and grievance—he had missed this man before him desperately.
Who knew how long it lasted. By the time their lips finally parted, Fang Li’s eyes were misted from oxygen deprivation, and his cheeks were faintly flushed. “You kissed too hard…”
Qin Weidong lifted him off the shoe cabinet. Noticing how cold the floor tiles were, and remembering that Fang Li never liked wearing socks, he frowned. Fang Li seemed to guess what he was thinking and gave him a light slap on the jaw. “Disgusted with the place? Then don’t stay here.”
“You know that’s not what I meant… I just worry you won’t sleep well.”
He scooped Fang Li up again. After all the fuss and kisses, Fang Li didn’t resist anymore. His legs naturally wrapped around Qin Weidong’s waist. Qin Weidong loved it when he did that. He leaned in and kissed him again. “Baby…”
“You told Uncle and Auntie you came back?”
“Not yet.”
“Then… where’s your luggage?”
“My assistant dropped it off at the hotel.”
Fang Li watched Qin Weidong carry him into the bedroom. The apartment was a modest two-bedroom. This room was usually where Qi Jian kept his accounting textbooks and notes. But after Fang Li moved in, he had cleared it out for him.
“How did you know this was my room?”
“The door wasn’t locked—and it was messy.”
“Tch…” Fang Li immediately frowned. But when he saw the vivid red handprint on Qin Weidong’s cheek, he couldn’t bring himself to retaliate. Instead, he raised his hand lightly, then wrapped his arms softly around Qin Weidong’s neck. “So you think I don’t know how to tidy up?”
“No,” Qin Weidong turned to kiss his lips. “If you did, I’d feel even worse.”
“Tch…” Fang Li knew exactly what he meant. He rested his head on Qin Weidong’s shoulder.
Qin Weidong sat on the edge of the bed with him in his arms, feeling how light he had become. “You’ve lost weight…”
“Not that much…”
Fang Li had indeed slimmed down. When he first returned to China, the water and food didn’t agree with him. And with Qin Weidong not around, he didn’t have much appetite.
Qin Weidong kissed Fang Li’s eyes, nose, and chin again and again, filled with guilt and affection. His hand moved to Fang Li’s waistband. “I didn’t take good care of you… Does it still hurt?”
If Fang Li hadn’t just slapped Qin Weidong eight or nine times in the car, he would have cried out in pain—so painful that he’d want to beat the man to death. But now…
“It hurts or not, you’re the one who hit me. Wouldn’t you know?”
The words stabbed straight into Qin Weidong’s heart. He quickly checked the injury. So many days had passed, it had long since healed. Only then did he feel slightly relieved.
Seeing how tightly Qin Weidong was holding him, as if he couldn’t bear to let go even for a second, Fang Li was still angry—but he also had no way to fight this man. He could only curse him in his heart: bastard.
He wrapped his arms around Qin Weidong’s shoulders, his cheek rubbing against the pulse beating in his neck. “So now you feel sorry? But that night, didn’t you raise your belt and tell me you had to teach me a lesson? So I’d never dare to disobey you again? Weren’t you so determined then?”
Each word cut Qin Weidong like a knife, peeling him alive. His voice was hoarse: “I never thought you’d leave…”
He really hadn’t expected Fang Li to walk out. He thought Fang Li would get angry, throw a tantrum—like before. That he could coax him, spoil him, apologize a hundred ways. He thought, no matter what, Fang Li couldn’t bear to give up the life he’d built for him over the years.
But he had never imagined… that Fang Li would leave just like that. So suddenly.
When he returned to the apartment and found Fang Li gone, it was like the sky had fallen. He thought he was going mad.
“You never thought I’d leave?”
Fang Li’s eyes narrowed, his voice rising as he pushed himself up. “There are plenty of things you never thought of! Let me tell you, Qin Weidong—this is the last time. If you ever treat me like that again, if you ever disrespect me again, I won’t just leave. I’ll disappear for good. You’ll never find me—”
He didn’t finish.
Qin Weidong kissed him fiercely, sealing his lips like he couldn’t bear another word. As if one more syllable would drive him insane.
Qin Weidong’s eyes were red. “Fang Li… you’re going to kill me…”
His voice was low, almost choked, but he held back, afraid of scaring him. Fang Li couldn’t stand seeing him like this. He knew this man had always been this way—he simply couldn’t handle being left behind.
Fang Li kissed his lips gently. “Then be good to me. Be even better to me. Or I swear, I will leave—for real this time. Do you understand?”
Qin Weidong held him tightly, so tightly it felt like he wanted to crush Fang Li into his bones. It hurt, and only then did he finally loosen his grip—just barely.
Even then, it was only an inch. Fang Li had to ask him three times to loosen up before he gave him just enough space to breathe.
“Baby, let me pack your things. We’re going to the hotel.”
Qin Weidong picked him up. He looked around the messy room. There wasn’t much stuff.
“Hotel?”
Fang Li clung to him. But he knew—since Qin Weidong had come, they couldn’t keep staying at Qi Jian’s place. It just wasn’t appropriate. And what if the walls weren’t soundproof? They’d disturb everyone…
“We can at least have dinner here tonight… Qi Jian cooks really well. Feng Hui, Qi Jian, you and me—we can help out in the kitchen…”
“I won’t have time these next few days.”
“Busy already, the moment you’re back?”
“Is this suitcase yours?” Qin Weidong asked. When Fang Li nodded, he took it from the closet and started packing clothes. “Should we bring your sheet music?”
“Yeah, put it in.”
After all the emotional turbulence, Fang Li was tired. He hung limply on Qin Weidong. “We’re really heading to the hotel now? I still have to talk to Qi Jian—he’s taken such good care of me. If I leave with you the moment you show up, it’ll look like I’m ditching my friend for love. He’s been here with me every single day…”
As he packed the sheet music, Qin Weidong suddenly paused. His brows furrowed ever so slightly. Then he turned to ask:
“So… are you saying I should kneel and beg for forgiveness here tonight?”
Axolotl Translations 
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