“Who told you to actually get on your knees?!”
Fang Li rolled his eyes dramatically and gave Qin Weidong a light punch on the shoulder. “Do you even understand what a figure of speech is?”
He seriously wondered if Qin Weidong even had that part of his brain.
Qin Weidong didn’t say anything. Downstairs, his assistant from China had arrived. This assistant had worked with him even back in the States. He greeted him with a “President Qin” and reached out to take the luggage from his hand. Only after shutting Fang Li’s door did Qin Weidong go around to get into the car himself.
Fang Li had gotten overheated in the recording studio that afternoon, so he’d undone a few buttons on his shirt. Qin Weidong took one look, then immediately took off his own jacket and draped it over him.
“I’m hot…!”
“There’s air conditioning in the car. Don’t catch a cold.”
The assistant, of course, knew who Fang Li was, but clearly hadn’t expected the boss to return to China at this moment. He looked surprised but didn’t dare say anything, simply keeping his gaze politely lowered as he drove them to the hotel.
Qin Weidong had reserved the same suite he’d booked for Fang Li previously. Fang Li hadn’t ended up using it, but Qin Weidong never canceled the reservation. Inside were still the clothes and other things he’d instructed his assistant to prepare for Fang Li.
The moment they walked in, Fang Li knew exactly what Qin Weidong was up to. They went at it until nightfall. Fang Li was so exhausted he couldn’t even lift a finger. He was borderline annoyed—how did Qin Weidong still have that much stamina after a transpacific flight?
In the bathroom, Fang Li lay lazily against the tub while Qin Weidong worked shampoo into his hair.
“Close your eyes…”
Qin Weidong was about to rinse. Fang Li hadn’t even opened them this whole time. After the bath, Qin Weidong dried his hair, carried him to bed, and curled around him.
Fang Li, still tired, gave him a half-hearted shove and teased, “Didn’t you say you were gonna kneel? Go on, kneel then…”
Qin Weidong stroked his hair and said, “Let me hold you first. Once you’re asleep, I’ll do it.”
Judging from his tone, he was seriously going to do it. Fang Li had only been joking. “Come on, you just got back. Rest properly, will you? I wasn’t actually planning to make you kneel…”
Sure, he’d thrown a fit, even hit him, but he’d never actually intended to make the man kneel after flying over twenty hours internationally. The guy hadn’t even adjusted to the time zone yet.
“You said kneel. So I’m kneeling.”
Listen to him! Infuriating. Fang Li muttered, “You’re gonna be the death of me…” He poked his head out of the blanket, picked up the hotel phone, and asked them to bring up two ice packs.
This was a luxury suite, and they had dedicated service staff. In no time, someone arrived with a large and a small pack. Fang Li took the smaller one.
“Here, put this on your face.”
He tested the ice pack in his hand, wrapped it in a towel—it wasn’t too cold—then pressed it gently to the flushed side of Qin Weidong’s face.
“This is what you get for being reckless. Feel better now? It’s embarrassing enough—how are you even going to face the office tomorrow? Just take the day off and stay here.”
Qin Weidong had only been holding him and resting for a short while when his eyes opened again. He was long used to recovering energy through short bursts of sleep—a habit from his mining days, and one he’d been forced to perfect over the years as he clawed his way to where he was now.
Fang Li assumed he’d agreed and was about to cuddle closer and doze off again. His entire body ached; he felt like jelly.
But unexpectedly, Qin Weidong caught his leg mid-climb, kept some distance between them, then leaned in and kissed him lightly.
“Don’t tempt me… I’m going to the Rongshan mine tomorrow with some senior execs. We’re meeting with government officials about the first phase of extraction. I won’t be able to stay here during the day, so—I’ll kneel six nights to make up for it.”
Fang Li took a while to process that.
“Qin Weidong—are you insane?! Is there no end to your madness? If I don’t yell at you, does your whole body itch or what?” He wrapped his arms around Qin Weidong’s neck. “If you keep this up, I’ll really get mad. I missed you so much…”
Qin Weidong let him hold on. “You’re right to yell at me. I should reflect on myself. I shouldn’t have ignored what you were saying. For years, I thought I could handle things my way… that I could get you to listen. But I was wrong.”
Because his way had made Fang Li leave. And of all things in the world, Qin Weidong could not accept that.
“You…”
Fang Li stared at him in surprise. He couldn’t believe Qin Weidong had just said something like that. Self-reflection—from him?
Qin Weidong was a man of action. He got up and left the room. In the living room, he knelt. His back was perfectly straight—like a soldier’s—and not even a trace of embarrassment could be seen. He was simply and earnestly kneeling there.
Fang Li hadn’t expected it. Not really. He was stunned.
“Qin Weidong, you know what I want. You don’t have to do this…”
He sat down on the coffee table across from him. “Did you know I signed with Waves?”
“Feng Hui told me.”
Not surprising. Pretty much what he expected. Fang Li tried to probe. “So… does that mean you agree?”
He was hopeful.
Qin Weidong didn’t respond right away. Fang Li couldn’t wait—this was important to him. He lifted his foot and tapped it lightly against Qin Weidong’s neck. “Say something…”
“I… reserve my opinion,” Qin Weidong replied.
“Reserve your opinion? What, is this a board meeting now?” Fang Li sneered. “Just give me a yes or no. No in-betweens.”
Qin Weidong hesitated, then looked at him and said, “Lili, I’ll be in the country until the fifth of next month. After that, I have to go back to New York and won’t return until the end of the year. Come back with me, will you? Once we’re there, I’ll reconsider this whole thing…”
Fang Li had mostly cooled off by then, but as soon as he heard that, his temper flared up again. “What do you mean, ‘reconsider’?”
Qin Weidong glanced at him. “The coffee table is cold. Come sit on the couch.”
Before Fang Li could finish protesting, Qin Weidong had already scooped him up and forcibly moved him from the table to the sofa. Fang Li fumed, “Stop carrying me around! I’m trying to have a serious conversation here—!”
“I’m listening.”
Fang Li rolled his eyes and tried to reclaim his authority. There he sat while Qin Weidong knelt in front of him—like some landlord’s son barking orders at a servant in the old days.
“What exactly have you been reflecting on these past few days? I like music. I like singing. I like standing on stage. And I want the freedom to make my own decisions. Have I still not made myself clear?”
Qin Weidong raised his head, not with the tone of someone commanding, but of someone negotiating. “Anything else is fine. But… can you not sing?”
Fang Li almost choked on his own anger. He grabbed a pillow and threw it at Qin Weidong. “And I actually thought you were seriously reflecting! Turns out your so-called reflection is total crap. Fine—kneel there for all I care!”
Enraged, he stormed off to the bedroom and slammed the door behind him with a loud bang. He swore to never speak to that bastard again. Let him kneel if he wanted—whoever felt sorry for him was a fool!
Late-night Jinyang was quiet. Occasionally the roar of street racers tore through the silence. Fang Li lay in bed tossing and turning, unable to sleep—furious beyond belief. He already had trouble sleeping without Qin Weidong beside him. Those first few days after coming home had been hell, and he’d only just started getting used to it again. Then Qin Weidong came back—and now he couldn’t sleep at all!
After tossing and turning several more times, Fang Li finally got up. He carefully cracked the door open. The curtains in the living room weren’t very thick—he could see Qin Weidong was still kneeling there. The man hadn’t slept. His broad frame radiated exhaustion, but his posture remained rigid and upright. His eyes were slightly downcast, lost in thought.
Sigh…
Fang Li let out a long sigh. Qin Weidong had been this way for over a decade—possessive to the point of obsession. He wanted Fang Li’s eyes on him and only him. Wanted to vacuum-seal his whole world so no one else could get in. Did a mere couple weeks apart really change all that? Was it so easy to change?
Fang Li didn’t know what to do anymore. He scratched his hair into a messy tangle, then dragged his comforter and pillow out to the living room and dumped them on the couch behind Qin Weidong. Then he lay down.
Qin Weidong looked at him. “Still awake?”
The clock pointed to 2:30 a.m. Fang Li, facing the inside of the couch, closed his eyes. “Go to sleep.”
Qin Weidong didn’t say another word.
In the morning, when Fang Li woke up, he was already back in bed. Qin Weidong had changed clothes and came over, adjusting his watch as he leaned down to kiss Fang Li. “…Sleep well. I’ve asked the hotel to bring breakfast.”
Still drowsy, Fang Li nodded. He didn’t need to ask what time Qin Weidong got up or how long he’d been kneeling—when he said he would kneel all night, he meant it.
Around ten in the morning, Fang Li was woken by a call from Yang Yuecheng, and he headed to the recording studio to do another take.
The lyrics followed the storyline of the film—a tale of two protagonists who missed each other, reunited, and ultimately were forced to part due to reality. The vocal coach pointed out a few key emotional beats, and Fang Li tried to capture the feeling. But after one take, he still wasn’t satisfied.
Yang Yuecheng must’ve noticed Fang Li was in a low mood. He pulled him aside and said the early part of the song could lean into sorrow, while the climax should erupt with the heartbreak of love that couldn’t be.
Fang Li asked, “What do you mean by ‘love that couldn’t be’?”
Yang Yuecheng replied, “Come on, didn’t you ever have a crush on a girl in school? You know—she moved away, and you never got together… that feeling.”
Fang Li thought for a moment. He really hadn’t. But what did come to mind was the time Qin Weidong got reported before going to Kunshan, when Ye Yunshan called and told him to stop contacting Qin Weidong. That might’ve been one of the few times in his life when he’d felt truly, deeply heartbroken…
Fang Li said, “Brother Cheng, I think I’ve got it now.”
Yang Yuecheng was thrilled and rushed to get another take. Sure enough, this version—with lyrics about love doomed by circumstance, and Fang Li’s flawless yet faintly melancholic voice—felt like the bittersweet love of youth: passionate but ultimately defeated by reality. The protagonists meet at the turn of the millennium, only to say goodbye at the dawn of a new era. By the time he finished singing, even a girl in the studio who’d just gone through a breakup was on the verge of tears.
Yang Yuecheng immediately declared this the final version and sent it off to the film director for approval.
By four or five in the afternoon, the film production and Hong Kong distributor confirmed their decision: Fang Li’s song was officially chosen as the theme. Yang Yuecheng, ecstatic, reported to Han Jin and treated the whole department to ice cream—on his own dime.
That night, Qin Weidong wasn’t back yet. Fang Li was lying on the hotel bed, several lyric sheets spread out in front of him. He’d marked a bunch of words with pinyin and was studying them when he heard Qin Weidong come in.
Fang Li leapt up and hugged him. “Did everything go smoothly today?”
“Smoothly.”
The deal in Rongshan had been finalized. All the procedures were nearly complete. The foundational construction for the mining operation was expected to require a 45-million-yuan investment, with the team set to enter the site by the end of the month—and this was only the first phase.
Qin Weidong held him while glancing at the scattered papers. “What’s all this?”
Fang Li beamed. “Good news—I got picked for a movie theme song! But it’ll be released in both Mandarin and Cantonese versions, so my agent told me to start learning ASAP…”
He asked, “Do you know Hong Kong dialect? Oh right, it’s Cantonese…”
Qin Weidong shook his head. He had never learned it. There were Cantonese-speaking classmates in his class, but they always spoke Mandarin with him.
He took Fang Li’s headphones, listened for a moment, then glanced over the lyrics. “Is it difficult? I can learn it.”
“You’ll learn it and then teach me?”
Fang Li grabbed the lyrics back and continued marking the pinyin with his pen. “Forget it. I’d have to be a fool to fall for that twice.”
Qin Weidong had been running around all day and still had to handle business abroad. He leaned in to kiss him, and Fang Li let him.
But he added, “Don’t mess around, okay? Brother Cheng got me a Cantonese teacher. They’re in a rush to get the song recorded—I have to be there by 7:30 tomorrow morning.”
“Brother Cheng?” Qin Weidong frowned.
“Yang Yuecheng, my agent.”
“Then call him Yang Yuecheng.”
Fang Li chuckled and tilted his head to nudge Qin Weidong off him a little. “You’re so jealous—don’t you have a little more manly composure?”
Qin Weidong didn’t care about the question. He just didn’t like Fang Li calling anyone that affectionately. He just didn’t like it. What did it have to do with masculinity?
He kissed Fang Li again, this time more deeply. Fang Li noticed where this was going, tossed the sheet aside, and pushed him. “I really need to look at the lyrics…!”
Qin Weidong ignored him and moved to kiss another spot. Pinned beneath him, Fang Li struggled but couldn’t break free. Irritated, he said, “Qin Weidong, are you not hearing me again?”
Sure enough, those words made Qin Weidong pause. He looked at him.
Fang Li suddenly felt a wave of grievance. “Qin Weidong, tell me honestly—these things I love, singing, music… You say you’re thinking about it, balancing things. But I just want to ask—are you really thinking about them?”
Qin Weidong fell silent. He didn’t know how to answer.
Maybe he already had an answer. He just couldn’t say it. He wasn’t allowed to say it.
Seeing that, how could Fang Li not understand?
“You came back to the country, you apologized, you’re putting on this whole act… But are you really reflecting, Qin Weidong? Be honest—you’ve never truly looked at these things.”
There was no one in the world who knew Qin Weidong better than Fang Li did. He was genuinely hurt now—more than when Qin Weidong had been harsh with him that night. This hurt… he didn’t even know how to describe it. These things, so precious to him, the things he took the most pride in besides Qin Weidong—yet in Qin Weidong’s eyes, they probably never even deserved a real look.
The more he spoke, the more the tears welled up. And finally, he cried. In front of Qin Weidong, he never held back his tears. He wasn’t hysterical like that night. He just blinked—and a single tear slid down.
“Weidong…”
Qin Weidong panicked immediately. He had come all this way—how could he bear to see Fang Li cry? Fang Li crying was enough to devastate him. He said, “Don’t cry, don’t cry. I’ve been thinking a lot these past few days. Just… just give me a bit more time, okay? You know how I…”
How could he possibly come to terms with Fang Li signing a contract and becoming a celebrity so suddenly?
Fang Li sniffled. He hadn’t planned on breaking down completely. Ever since Qin Weidong came back, the man had exhausted him to the point he didn’t have the energy to cry. He wiped his tears and asked, “So how long do you need to accept it?”
“Six nights.”
Qin Weidong said it earnestly, as a promise.
“You really are—ugh!” Fang Li couldn’t help but scold him. “You just have to be scolded, don’t you? Can’t you accept it lying down? You gotta kneel?”
Qin Weidong kissed the tear-soaked side of his face. “This way I’ll remember it more deeply. From now on, I’ll remember—I won’t ignore your words, or your feelings.”
Qin Weidong was a man who meant what he said. If he said something was impossible, then it truly was. But if he said he’d remember and reflect—then he truly would.
“You really don’t care about me anymore…” Fang Li’s voice was thick with grievance, his tears threatening to fall again. “You used to care so much. I used to be your number one priority…”
“I do care…” Qin Weidong rushed to explain, kissing the corners of his eyes. “I could never not care about you, baby.”
Fang Li wouldn’t let him off: “Then why do you act like you don’t?! I told you I’m going to sing a movie theme song, I’m learning a Cantonese song—I said all that on purpose so you’d hear it, but you didn’t say a thing! And I signed with Waves! You’ve been back for two days and didn’t even ask!”
“And my contract—how is that not a big deal? Did you care about any of it? You didn’t care—that’s why you brushed me off like it was nothing!”
He got more and more upset as he spoke, finally pushing Qin Weidong away, refusing to let him hold him any longer.
“Feng Hui showed me your contract,” Qin Weidong said.
“He did?”
Though Fang Li didn’t know how Feng Hui got it, he wasn’t that surprised. He turned and punched Qin Weidong in the chest. “You saw it? And then what? I signed a five-year deal! You didn’t even ask! You really care about me? This is what you call caring? What if they tricked me?!”
He was being totally unreasonable now—he wasn’t scared at all when he signed, but now he was throwing a tantrum like it was all Qin Weidong’s fault for not stepping in.
“Baby… Since you were a kid, when have your problems not been my number-one priority?”
Qin Weidong felt helpless. He had been against it from the start—now he had to read the contract on top of it? Wasn’t that just torture?
Only Fang Li could pull this kind of stunt.
He didn’t agree, but he had looked at the contract. Aside from a few overly harsh termination clauses, the rest was pretty standard. The so-called “sky-high penalty fees” Waves used to scare small artists—if it meant Fang Li would stop singing, he’d gladly pay ten times that. He’d even send Waves a silk banner of thanks…
But he didn’t dare say any of that.
“If you don’t care, just say so! That contract’s packed with clauses, over ten pages—you really had time to read it carefully? I already signed it! If you weren’t fighting with me, why would I even need to ask you?!”
“It’s just a small music label…”
Qin Weidong pulled the angry Fang Li back into his arms and kissed him, coaxing him. “You signed, then you signed. If they dare mess with you, I’ll destroy them. Okay?”
Axolotl Translations 
Leave a comment