That morning, Fang Li was still fast asleep when the doorbell downstairs started ringing nonstop. He’d only gotten home from the studio in the middle of the night, and he’d barely fallen asleep when the bell jolted him awake again. Still half-asleep, he instinctively reached over to nudge Qin Weidong to check who it was—only to remember that Qin Weidong had already gone back to New York.
This sort of thing was happening a lot lately.
Fang Li groggily opened his eyes, grabbed the phone that was still on an ongoing call, and mumbled, “I’m up… morning…”
Then he gave the phone a kiss.
In New York, the sky had just darkened, and the city lights lit up the streets. Qin Weidong stepped away from his work, walked to the window, and as soon as he heard Fang Li’s voice, the fatigue in his sharp features softened. “Baby, you’re awake? It’s nine—should be the fish pond cleaners at the door.”
Oh, right… Fang Li scratched his head. He had booked someone to come this morning. With no other choice, he forced himself out of bed. “I got home so late last night… Why’d you pick such an early time?”
Qin Weidong didn’t argue. “Next time I’ll have my assistant schedule it later. Go open the door first, then come back to wash up. Keep your phone with you.”
Fang Li yawned and shuffled downstairs to open the door.
It was his idea to put some fish in the unused garden pond—he’d brought it up with Qin Weidong because, until Weidong returned from the States, he’d be living alone in that huge house. Sometimes the emptiness made the place feel lifeless, even a little scary. He’d told Qin Weidong he wanted a pet to keep him company.
He had listed off cats, dogs, even rabbits, but Qin Weidong shot them all down—finally agreeing to fish.
The pond cleaning crew brought their tools and equipment in. Fang Li went upstairs to freshen up and, brushing his teeth, asked into the phone, “Qin Weidong, are fish really the only pets I’m allowed? I was thinking maybe a puppy. Or a kitten…”
Yang Xiaoliu had a cat—an orange one that would immediately snuggle up to you. Super cute.
“No,” Qin Weidong shot him down without missing a beat.
Toothbrush in his mouth, Fang Li muttered, “Why not? You’re in America. It’s not like I’m asking you to take care of it. I can handle it.”
Seriously, Qin Weidong was just too controlling.
But Qin Weidong had his reasons. He pictured Fang Li’s laid-back, careless self—no sense of responsibility, no concern for hygiene. If he got a pet, he definitely wouldn’t bother training it, let alone keeping it off his bed. Just like that rabbit he used to cuddle 24/7 a few years ago.
So Qin Weidong shut it down flat: “If you get one, can you promise it won’t sleep on your bed?”
Fang Li spit out his mouthwash, a bit more awake now, and said speechlessly, “That’s your reason? Seriously, Qin Weidong? After all these years, you’re still jealous of a pet?”
Qin Weidong didn’t admit it, but neither did he deny it. In fact, on this particular point, he hadn’t changed in over a decade—he simply didn’t like it. Letting Fang Li sign with an agency and become a singer had already been the biggest compromise of his life. The idea of some other creature bouncing around in Fang Li’s arms and on his bed all day? He didn’t have the patience or tolerance for that.
“In any case, no. Once the pond is cleaned in a few days, I’ll have them bring the fish. What kind do you want?”
“I’ll go with whatever you pick. Just not black ones—they creep me out…”
“I’ll have them send you a catalog then.”
“Alright…” Fang Li nodded. Fish were fine, really. No big deal. If he wanted to pet a cat, he could just go visit Yang Xiaoliu.
Qin Weidong had a video meeting coming up. After a few more words, he got busy again. Fang Li yawned and sat down at the piano to practice for a bit.
He’d stayed late at the studio the night before. Thankfully the recording went smoothly, and Yang Yuecheng had told him to take the morning off. He’d only played for a little while before one of his other phones rang—it was Ding Haoyang. They’d just returned from a string of shows out of town and were asking if he was free for lunch with the band.
Fang Li hadn’t seen them since he returned to China, so he agreed, changed into something casual, and headed out.
Ding Haoyang had picked a hotpot place for lunch. When Fang Li entered the private room, the dishes were already ordered and the whole band was waiting for him. Yang San, whom he hadn’t seen in three or four years, greeted him with a shout: “Fang Li! You’re finally back! We’ve been waiting for you! Heard you signed with Waves? What a coincidence—guess we’re label brothers again!”
Ding Haoyang scolded him, “Pour the drinks. What’s with all the fancy talk?”
It really had been over three years since they’d all met up. Fang Li immediately recognized Yang San.
Just like before he left for the States, he still had dyed blond hair—though it looked darker now. Then came Ding Haoyang. His hair was longer now, pulled into a short ponytail at the back.
“The company made me grow it out,” he explained. “In the rock scene, fans love this kind of thing!”
Fang Li greeted everyone. The band’s old leader Wu Ke was there, as well as the always quiet Chen Xin, who stared at him for a long moment when he walked in.
They’d all first met in Changding County, back in the early days. A lot had changed over the years. Ding Haoyang raised his glass and proposed a toast to all the years of friendship. Fang Li glanced at the phone call still ongoing. His recovery had been going well, and Qin Weidong didn’t ban him from drinking anymore.
Still, it wasn’t like before. Now, Qin Weidong only allowed him to drink when he was present. If he wasn’t around, it was off-limits.
Fang Li hesitated. “I’ll just have juice, then?”
He really couldn’t be sure whether Qin Weidong was listening in or not. Last time, when Yang Xiaoliu was helping organize his clothes and casually commented, ‘Brother Li, your waist is so slim’, Qin Weidong had absolutely wrecked him over the phone that night. Fang Li was so embarrassed, he didn’t call him for two whole days.
“No worries,” Ding Haoyang said, waving it off. “You had surgery—juice is fine.” He asked the server to bring another bottle of juice.
“By the way, how’s the recovery going?” he asked.
“Everything’s fine now. Totally normal—I can run, jump, do everything.”
Fang Li accepted the juice and, raising his voice slightly, added, “Alright then, juice it is!”
He wasn’t sure if Qin Weidong heard that or not, but whatever. With how strict Qin Weidong was, Fang Li didn’t want to risk embarrassing himself in front of his friends.
Ding Haoyang had no idea why Fang Li suddenly raised his voice like that, but they clinked glasses anyway. He then piled a bunch of meat into Fang Li’s bowl. “You’re way too skinny. You were in the U.S. for three years, and that guy Qin didn’t fatten you up at all? Aren’t they all about steak and cheese over there? That stuff is supposed to pack on the pounds.”
“I—I didn’t really lose weight, though…” Fang Li’s eyelid twitched. If Qin Weidong found out he’d slimmed down, he’d probably go and replace their housekeeper again. And Fang Li really liked the current one—she made excellent Hunan food. He cleared his throat and quickly changed the subject.
“Anyway, how have you guys been these past couple of years? I kept hearing about you all while I was in the States. That album Wild Wind? It was a big hit.”
“Only that first album did well. Brother Han produced it himself—and you wrote a few tracks too. But after that, nothing really took off. These days we just do live gigs, living off that one bit of past success.”
That was the reality for many mainland bands. They lacked the artistic flair of Hong Kong bands, and their rock wasn’t edgy enough to match the underground scene. Now, with all the flashy idol groups coming out of Taiwan, mainland bands were getting squeezed from all sides. In fact, the fact that Ding Haoyang’s band even had a solid album to show for themselves already made them luckier than most.
Ding Haoyang pointed to his hair. “See? The company’s making us switch to rock now. They’re hoping we can bring back the kind of popularity we had during the Wild Wind era.”
Fang Li hadn’t had much exposure to rock music. His musical sensibility had been cultivated while auditing classes near Brooklyn College, surrounded by friends like Wu Xuxu, who came from privileged backgrounds and played the kind of music that sounded like it belonged in Vienna’s golden concert halls, performed in tuxedos and evening gowns.
The group sat around the bubbling hotpot, reminiscing and laughing. Yang San brought up the time they used to perform at nightclubs—especially how Fang Li used to cross-dress for shows. He mimicked the old scenes with exaggerated movements, making everyone at the table double over with laughter. It all felt like it had just happened yesterday.
“Seriously, back then, all of us together probably couldn’t afford a single hotpot meal like this.”
No kidding—when Fang Li once lost 3,000 yuan at night school, it felt like the end of the world.
Looking around the table, Fang Li asked Yang San, “Hey, what about your girlfriend, Huang Min?”
She’d been the one to do his makeup for the nightclub shows back then.
Yang San’s smile froze. He set down his glass. “We broke up ages ago. She’s married now.”
Impulsive young love rarely survives the test of time. A couple like Fang Li and Qin Weidong—each other’s only love for life—was truly rare.
Yang San downed his drink, and Wu Ke lifted his own glass. “Fang Li, welcome back! We heard you’re working with a Hong Kong company on a single?”
“Yeah, it’s a movie theme song. Should be out soon. It’ll release in Hong Kong and Taiwan first—probably not until after the New Year here.”
“Landing a deal with a Hong Kong label for your debut? That’s impressive!” Yang San said.
“Which label is it?” Wu Ke asked.
Fang Li thought for a moment. “Baoyi Records?”
“Baoyi Records is newly established,” Yang San said, not recognizing the name. He sighed. “Brother Jin is definitely biased toward you. Letting you debut starting from the Hong Kong market—that’s no small thing. Not like us. Back then we all said bands only really make it in Hong Kong. Even just making an appearance there would boost your status several levels once you came back to the mainland. But Brother Jin never had the time to connect us with anyone over there. And now… bands like ours are basically relics crushed under the weight of changing trends… Sigh, I guess Brother Jin thinks we’re not commercially valuable anymore, so he handed us off to some new agent…”
Fang Li asked, “You haven’t found a new lead singer?”
“We did. Back when you didn’t join us, Han-ge found one. But he didn’t fit at all. That guy acted more like a diva than our team leader. Whatever performance we took, whatever song we sang, everything had to go through him… It was a pain in the ass!”
Tired of complaining about their singer, Yang San turned to drink with Fang Li. After a few more rounds, Ding Haoyang, quite tipsy by now, lit a cigarette and suddenly said to Fang Li, “You haven’t changed much at all.”
Nearly four years had passed. They’d all come from a small town to the provincial capital, chasing their so-called dreams of music. Time in the real world had worn them down and changed them. But Fang Li… hadn’t.
Take tonight for example. Fang Li wore a simple, casual outfit, but on his wrist was a luxury watch—one Ding Haoyang recognized. Its average price wasn’t less than 200,000 yuan. He himself had once gritted his teeth and bought a 20,000-yuan watch for the sake of appearances.
And every time he wore it, he had to think hard about what outfit would best show off the watch. But Fang Li? He wore his like he’d just grabbed it off the counter. Just like that, with a plain casual outfit.
Three years had gone by. Their sharp edges had been dulled by reality, and those burning dreams were now full of compromise and necessary practicality. But Fang Li—he looked just the same. His face hadn’t changed, his figure hadn’t changed, and especially the aura around him—untouched by wind or rain—hadn’t changed a bit.
When dinner ended, Yang San was completely drunk, eyes red and blinking. He slurred, “Honestly…! I think the only reason Brother Jin signed us back then was ‘cause he saw Fang Li in drag at the nightclub. Otherwise, why would he have signed us? What were we? Just a no-name band from a tiny county. Later that guy joined, and Brother Jin wanted to promote him, so he promoted us along with him… Now he’s leaving the band, and we’re probably screwed…!”
Yang San couldn’t even stand up. Nobody knew why he drank so much tonight. Wu Ke helped him out to hail a cab. Chen Xin, who’d been quiet all night, came over to Fang Li and said, “I drove here. I’ll give you a ride.”
“No need,” Fang Li replied. His assistant Yang Xiaoliu had also driven over to pick him up and was probably already nearby. Seeing Yang San throwing up on the roadside, Fang Li said to Ding Haoyang, “Chen Xin has a car, and I do too. It’s late—want us to drive you guys home?”
Ding Haoyang had wanted to accept. But when he saw Fang Li wave at his assistant and a white BMW pulled up, the “sure” at the tip of his tongue turned into: “Nah, it’s fine. I’ll let him crash at my place.”
His place was nearby—just a short walk away. Fang Li nodded. Once they left, he got into the car.
That September, the theme song Fang Li recorded for A Date with the Millennium aired across major radio stations in Hong Kong and Taiwan as part of the film’s promotional campaign.
Because the film’s investor was an affiliated production company of Baoyi, several stations had even slotted the song into their prime-time ad segments.
As soon as the song hit the airwaves, Fang Li’s ethereal voice, paired with the sentimental lyrics of “Never Say Goodbye”, caused a spike in calls to late-night relationship radio shows. Many listeners, after sharing their own stories of love and heartbreak, would specifically request “Never Say Goodbye” to dedicate to their ex-boyfriends or ex-girlfriends.
In no time, the song shot up the request charts at major radio stations, hailed for its perfect capture of “the pain of first love.”
A week later, when the film was released, the heart-wrenching farewell scene at the airport, paired with the soaring chorus of “Never Say Goodbye”, drew tears from the audience. Everyone was suddenly curious—who was this singer Fang Li? Capitalizing on the moment, Baoyi Records released a single titled after the song.
Thanks to the radio airplay and movie promotion, the timing was perfect. What began as casual curiosity quickly turned into obsession—the cover featured an exquisitely beautiful young man with downcast eyes, lilies blooming on his shoulder, and dappled light breaking through petals and shadowy branches behind him.
No one expected the voice behind the hit song to be not just a complete newcomer—but one this striking.
The cover design captivated fans instantly. What even Baoyi Records hadn’t anticipated was that the single—just a single!—would sell over 200,000 copies in its first week, hitting quadruple platinum and leaving all his peers far behind. The song even broke into the year’s Top 3 Hot New Tracks chart just a week after the movie’s release.
A single-track album selling 200,000 copies in just one week not only stunned the production company, Waves, but also left the distributor Baoyi Records in disbelief.
Initially released in Hong Kong and Taiwan, Baoyi’s marketing team discovered something even more surprising during their sales analysis: many fans were so taken by Fang Li’s looks that they had bought the album already—but they’d purchased the version with the side-profile cover. Now they were lining up overnight at record shops just to get the front-facing version.
Once retailers learned how fast the front-cover edition was selling, they scrambled to restock. Baoyi Records, too, had already begun urgently reprinting albums with the frontal sleeve.
Axolotl Translations 
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