Yet the resemblance between those two faces was growing fainter. Tang Yu no longer thought of Tang Yifeng the instant he saw Ji Qian’ang.
They had never been the same person. How could their outlines ever overlap perfectly?
Tang Yu stood frozen as Ji Qian’ang approached step by step and sat beside him. His heart missed a beat.
He immediately looked away and lowered his head, pretending to be busy turning pages.
Tian Qianxing leaned curiously toward Ji Qian’ang and studied his left eye. “Can that eye really not see anything?”
Ji Qian’ang touched the new pink scar at its outer corner, left from striking the edge of the pool during swimming class.
“I can sense a little light,” he replied.
The bell rang and the students returned to their seats. Tang Yu could not resist wanting to glance at the person beside him, but pride forced him to keep his eyes fixed ahead every second.
When class finally ended, Ji Xuecha called from the back for everyone to rehearse. Tang Yu grabbed his bag and headed straight for the music room on the third floor of the old school building.
Tian Qianxing was no longer surprised by his strange behavior.
The group soon gathered in the rehearsal room. Tang Yu was already seated at the piano, absorbed in playing.
When they first discussed songs for the performance, they considered Beneath the Lion Rock, Viva La Vida, and several others. In the end, they chose I Won’t Let You Be Destined to Be Alone.
The chorus was powerful enough. Ji Xuecha could follow the piano introduction with her violin, while Luo Yueze could cover the guitar solo in the latter half on keyboard.
The day Tang Yifeng came home, the song had played in the car. Tang Yifeng hummed several lines, his voice drifting slightly off-key, and Tang Yu laughed at him from the back seat for ages.
Tang Yifeng never hummed that song again.
He must have wanted, more than anyone, to keep Tang Yu from being alone. Tang Yu should have had someone beside him even without his brother. That was why, after Tang Yifeng left, new things had continued entering Tang Yu’s life: a new companion, new friends…
Tang Yu raised both hands to the keys. The introduction began. After eight bars, Ji Xuecha lifted her bow. The different voices of the two instruments blended, colliding into a distinctive, beautiful melody.
Tian Qianxing leaned against the window and tapped the rhythm on the tabletop.
The rehearsal-room windows were open, and sunlight filtered through the branches of a banyan tree onto the floor. As Tang Yu played, he suddenly wondered how those two off-key lines Tang Yifeng had sung that day had gone.
He had forgotten.
All he remembered was the warmth inside the car, Tang Yifeng steering with one hand while reaching back with the other to ruffle his hair.
“Brother…” Tang Yu called unconsciously, though the piano had not stopped.
He tried to see Tang Yifeng’s face clearly in his memory. But when he turned, that gentle face overlapped with another, sharper outline—a sharp face whose left eye was covered in gauze.
Tang Yu jolted and held his breath.
Ji Xuecha looked up at him. “Hmm?”
Coming back to himself, Tang Yu only shook his head and set his fingers over the next chord.
After one run-through, Ji Xuecha noticed that something was wrong with his expression. She returned her violin to its case.
“Why don’t we take a break? It’s too hot today. Qianxing, can you and the others bring back a few bottles of iced lemon tea from the convenience store?”
Tian Qianxing readily seized Luo Yueze and headed for the stairs.
Ji Xuecha was about to call Tang Yu when he shot up from the piano bench and rushed out of the room.
At the next corner, he collided without warning with a warm chest. His body was still trembling. Now he came fully awake and raised his head.
It was Ji Qian’ang. The gauze was gone from his left eye and glasses now rested on his face. Why was Ji Qian’ang here?
No—this face… If the chin were a little less sharp, the contours a little softer, if he smiled more often…
Tang Yu lost control and threw both arms tightly around the man before him, pressing his cheek to Ji Qian’ang’s chest just as he had once burrowed into Tang Yifeng’s warm embrace without needing a reason.
Through the thin fabric, the rhythm of the other man’s pounding heart traveled into Tang Yu’s ear.
Thump. Thump. One beat after another.
He was alive. At least Ji Qian’ang was alive.
Ji Xuecha saw the scene through the window and froze. Dazed, she searched for her phone and could not find it, so she picked up Tang Yu’s nearby phone and took a photograph.
Tang Yu was almost entirely pressed against Ji Qian’ang, his cheek resting on the man’s chest. Ji Qian’ang merely raised a brow and looked down at the crown of his head.
He lifted a hand and gently stroked Tang Yu’s hair. Uncertainty entered his low voice. “What’s wrong?”
Tang Yu murmured, “Brother… why are you here?”
Surprise flashed in Ji Qian’ang’s eye.
Tang Yu quickly added, “Didn’t you leave with Uncle Chen?”
“Grandmother ordered me yesterday to stay with you at all times.”
Perhaps he had recovered enough. Tang Yu immediately released him and stepped out of his embrace, eyes roaming everywhere except Ji Qian’ang’s face.
He felt terribly guilty. For one instant, he had nearly mistaken the person before him completely for Tang Yifeng. Fortunately, a scrap of reason remained and had kept him from doing anything more foolish.
Tang Yu restored his usual cold expression and asked quietly, “So you were… outside the door the whole time?”
“No. I just arrived.”
Tang Yu sighed with relief, but something still felt wrong. He had started this cold war, yet now he had inexplicably hurled himself into Ji Qian’ang’s arms. What did that make him?
He did not know. No flawless excuse presented itself, and fortunately Ji Qian’ang did not press him.
Tang Yu coughed twice and scratched the back of his head, deciding that he still needed to cover it up.
“Just now, that was…” He paused, mind racing. “I got too absorbed in rehearsal. Low blood sugar.”
The excuse was so poor it would collapse at a touch, but the words were already out. He could only continue.
“Right. Low blood sugar. I was seeing double, and you happened to be standing there.”
He made a brief gesture that meant I borrowed someone to lean on, then withdrew his hand at once. “I only leaned against you for a moment. Don’t read into it.”
Ji Qian’ang stared at Tang Yu with eyes of two slightly different shades. Then he took a mint from his pocket and tossed it over.
“If your blood sugar is low, eat candy.”
Tang Yu caught the little silver tin that flew toward him, unwrapped a mint, and put it into his mouth. Its icy freshness surged upward, completely suppressing the panic in his heart.
Only Tang Yifeng had ever kept candy in his pockets solely for Tang Yu. So what was Ji Qian’ang doing now?
Tang Yu eyed him sideways. “Why do you have so much candy in your pocket?”
“Enough for you.”
Seeing that Tang Yu’s color had genuinely improved, Ji Qian’ang instructed coldly, “Next time your blood sugar drops, say something in advance. Don’t go throwing yourself into a stranger’s arms.”
Tang Yu frowned. “Do you count as a stranger?”
He had seized on entirely the wrong point. How could anyone be this dense?
Ji Qian’ang repeated impatiently, “I mean the next time I’m not here.”
“You can burrow into anyone’s arms you like.”
“Just don’t let me see it.”
Ji Qian’ang leaned against the window and tossed a bottle of iced lemon tea into Tang Yu’s arms.
Cold condensation ran down the bottle, sliding over Tang Yu’s forearm and leaving a trail of water, as if carrying away some of Repulse Bay’s sticky heat.
Tang Yu fell silent and repeatedly considered what Ji Qian’ang meant by at a time like that. Was he openly ordering Tang Yu around? In what capacity did he think he could make such a demand? Was he planning to complain to Grandmother?
Unable to work it out, Tang Yu gave a quiet acknowledgment and stepped aside.
“It’s stuffy out here. Come inside.”
He paused, then added, “Later… Uncle Chen will pick us up, and we’ll go home together.”
With that, Tang Yu clutched the lemon tea and hurried into the rehearsal room.
The person behind him showed no change of expression, but laughed softly twice before following with both hands in his pockets.
Tian Qianxing and Luo Yueze soon returned with the tea and discovered they had bought one too many.
They resumed rehearsal. Ji Qian’ang sat quietly by the window and watched them play.
Shattered sunlight had climbed from the piano stand onto Tang Yu’s arm, illuminating the white sleeve. The bones of his wrist showed faintly beneath it as he moved.
Without that long sleeve, the scars on Tang Yu’s wrist would have had nowhere to hide from the light.
Ji Qian’ang wondered what a person had to endure before he could treat himself with such cruelty.
But he could not ask. He had more or less grasped Tang Yu’s nature: touch the slightest sensitive subject and he withdrew faster than a hedgehog.
After arranging Lin Juefei’s work, Tang Dong and Wei Yingrong flew out of Hong Kong again. Grandmother had recently been busy teaching her students, and instructed Tang Yu to devote himself completely to simultaneous-interpretation practice once the school anniversary celebrations ended.
So the usual people remained at the old residence’s dinner table, though Lin Juefei still had enough free time to come home for dinner.
At twenty-two, apart from being too old for his height to change, his face looked as youthful as Tang Yu’s. He spoke and acted like a thoughtful older brother, taking meticulous care of everything concerning Tang Yu.
After dinner, Lin Juefei noticed the powdered milk he had given Tang Yu sitting carelessly beside a cabinet. He frowned, walked over, and found the packaging unopened.
“Xiao Yu.”
Tang Yu had been about to go upstairs. He stopped and approached Lin Juefei. “Hmm?”
Lin Juefei sighed, his face full of disappointment. “Do you not like what Brother Juefei gave you? You brought it home and haven’t touched it…”
“It’s not that. My appetite has been poor,” Tang Yu replied.
Lin Juefei opened the package and asked Auntie Liu for a cup. His lips curved. “I was overthinking it. If your appetite is poor, you should drink more of this. It certainly won’t harm your health.”
Tang Yu felt neither strongly for nor against the nutritional drink. He swallowed the whole cup as if it were water.
Not long after going upstairs, however, his stomach turned violently. Everything he had recently eaten came back up with it.
Lin Juefei was in the neighboring room and hurried over when he heard the commotion.
He found Tang Yu curled painfully on the bed, brows locked and forehead covered in sweat.
“Xiao Yu, what’s wrong?” Lin Juefei shouted.
Lin Shanbai quickly contacted Doctor Ge and asked him to come examine Tang Yu.
Leaning against the doorframe, Ji Qian’ang watched Doctor Ge inspect Tang Yu’s tongue, take his pulse, and lift his eyelids.
Why would Tang Yu suddenly vomit for no reason? As far as Ji Qian’ang had observed, his health had actually improved lately.
His gaze settled on the cup on the table, streaked inside with residue from the milky drink. He drew his brows together in thought.