Tan Qing knew that, in the beginning, Zhu Lianzhen really didn’t like him, but that didn’t bother him. On the contrary, he found it rather amusing.
The hostility Zhu Lianzhen gave off as a teenager didn’t feel aggressive to Tan Qing at all. To him, it felt more like a performance. At its core, it was a desire to be noticed, respected, and recognized.
Maybe his arrival had triggered a sense of crisis in Zhu Lianzhen, like an animal feeling threatened by a new species invading its territory. What Zhu Lianzhen didn’t know was that Tan Qing had been observing him just as closely.
The two of them were assigned to the same dorm room. To help them bond more quickly, Pei Qiao had Zhu Lianzhen teach Tan Qing how to dance, while Tan Qing was responsible for supervising Zhu Lianzhen’s homework. Technically, with his talent, Zhu Lianzhen could have gone straight to a top high school or simply enrolled in an international school. Academics weren’t his focus. But Pei Qiao wanted him to set an example of being well-rounded for the fans. Whether it was singing, dancing, studying, or taking exams, slacking off wasn’t an option.
Pei Qiao even assigned them weekly tasks, and regardless of who failed to complete theirs, both would be punished. Zhu Lianzhen hated this kind of forced teamwork and collective punishment. When Tan Qing tutored him, he showed his impatience openly. Every time Tan Qing asked, “Did you understand?” at the end, Zhu Lianzhen would reply with deliberate disrespect, “No.”
“What didn’t you understand?”
“All of it.”
So Tan Qing would explain it all over again.
Zhu Lianzhen thought that if he just refused to cooperate every time, Tan Qing would eventually give up. But he hadn’t expected Tan Qing to have so much patience. Not only did he never get annoyed, he would even apologize during awkward silences, “Sorry, my method of solving the problem is too complicated. I’ll try to think of another way for you.”
That kind of attitude left Zhu Lianzhen with no room to keep up his bad temper. Originally, he had planned to pick a fight with Tan Qing as soon as possible and use it as an excuse to ask Pei-jie to change roommates. Unfortunately, Tan Qing was the kind of person who simply couldn’t be provoked.
In the end, Zhu Lianzhen gave in. When Tan Qing explained problems or checked his homework, he would listen obediently. At the very least, the sooner he listened, the sooner he’d be done with it, and the less time he’d have to spend sharing a room with Tan Qing.
Zhu Lianzhen always goofed off while doing homework, so Tan Qing had to come knock on the door every half hour to check his progress. Once, Zhu Lianzhen even called him over on his own, looking excited, like he couldn’t wait to show something off.
“Listen!” Zhu Lianzhen pressed the buttons on his calculator, playing the tune of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star using its electronic sounds.
He hadn’t solved the math problem, but he had accidentally discovered that the calculator could be switched to a music mode, turning the number tones into standard musical notes.
He showed it off excitedly, but Tan Qing didn’t react much, which left Zhu Lianzhen feeling a little deflated. Then Tan Qing reached over, tested the sound, and played Cuckoo Waltz for him.
Zhu Lianzhen: “……”
So you already knew the calculator could do this!
“I tried it before when I was bored,” Tan Qing said.
“So you do have a music theory background? You never mentioned it before.”
“I only learned a little accordion and singing. Nothing special, not worth mentioning.”
Zhu Lianzhen was very annoyed by this part of Tan Qing. To put it nicely, he was modest; to put it bluntly, he was secretive. It was hard to get to know him or figure out what he liked. Zhu Lianzhen found it most difficult to deal with people like that. What if, one day, he accidentally offended him without even realizing it?
Fortunately, their interactions were limited to tasks assigned by Pei Qiao. Living under the same roof, they hadn’t had any real conflicts so far.
Later, when Zhu Lianzhen’s grades at school improved noticeably, he knew he owed part of the credit to Tan Qing, so he planned to treat him to a meal. But if it were just the two of them, he’d feel awkward and not know what to talk about, so he invited their teammates too.
On the way, they passed an ice cream shop. Koty said he would treat everyone. But when it came time to pay, he turned to Zhu Lianzhen for help. “I forgot my wallet. Lend me some money for now.”
Zhu Lianzhen generously paid for him and, while doing so, suddenly remembered something. He asked Koty, “Wait, if I’m not mistaken, don’t you still owe me two hundred yuan?”
“Seems like I do.”
“Seems like? That was last month already!” Zhu Lianzhen urged, “When are you paying me back?”
Koty held his paper cup in one hand and hooked an arm around Zhu Lianzhen’s neck with the other, saying kindly, “Hey, since I’m treating you to ice cream now, let’s call it even.”
At first glance, the logic seemed reasonable. Without thinking too much, Zhu Lianzhen agreed with a humph. “Just this once.”
Tan Qing: “……”
After walking for a while, Zhu Lianzhen suddenly stopped in his tracks, turned to Koty, and said sternly, “Wait a minute! Didn’t you borrow the money for the ice cream from me just now!”
Fu Rong rolled his eyes. “Are you stupid? You just figured that out?”
Koty burst into loud laughter.
Ji Yunting, noticing that Tan Qing looked helpless, explained, “That’s just how Zhu Lianzhen is. As long as you seem sincere when you talk to him, he’ll believe whatever you say.”
Simply put, he was easy to fool.
Sometimes, when Tan Qing saw the teammates playing pranks or teasing him, Zhu Lianzhen’s flustered and ferocious reactions really were quite cute. But Tan Qing wasn’t interested in joining in—he was more used to observing from the sidelines. Besides, he wasn’t that close with Zhu Lianzhen, and teasing him felt like it would be crossing a line.
One weekend, the practice room was empty. Determined to catch up with the group’s progress as quickly as possible, Tan Qing practiced seven days a week without rest.
Zhu Lianzhen took some time to help him correct mistakes and teach techniques for difficult moves. Tan Qing was a quick learner with good body coordination, so it didn’t take much effort on Zhu Lianzhen’s part.
When Tan Qing sat down to rest, he kept his eyes on Zhu Lianzhen choreographing. He was the youngest in the group, but no less strict than an adult when it came to professionalism. Every move had to be executed with precise strength. He would test different versions repeatedly, perfecting even the tiniest transition detail until he was satisfied.
“I’m dying from the heat!” Zhu Lianzhen was burning up from all the dancing. He tugged at his collar, fanning himself as he panted heavily. Still feeling too hot, he simply took off his shirt.
The entire practice room echoed with his exhausted breathing. He grabbed his shirt and walked toward Tan Qing. “Wanna go shower?”
Tan Qing looked up and saw the hair on Zhu Lianzhen’s forehead soaked with sweat. Maybe because his skin was thin and his complexion fair, after intense exercise, his whole body turned visibly flushed, giving him a kind of youthful toughness.
Tan Qing looked away and said, “It’s cold outside. Don’t catch a cold.”
But Zhu Lianzhen didn’t care about any of that. What mattered most was feeling good in the moment. He even went out of his way to stand in the cold wind to cool down his body.
Sure enough, right after his shower, he started sneezing nonstop.
Luckily, his health was good enough that it didn’t turn into a real cold; only his voice sounded a bit nasal. To make sure others could still understand him, he slowed down his speech, and his voice took on an unusual steadiness that wasn’t there before.
On the way back to the dorm, Zhu Lianzhen spoke now and then, but Tan Qing always seemed like he couldn’t hear clearly, constantly asking him to repeat himself.
Zhu Lianzhen: “What’s wrong with your ears today?”
Tan Qing didn’t answer. He just thought Zhu Lianzhen’s voice sounded really nice right now.
The two of them spent some peaceful days in the dorm, not disturbing each other.
After the New Year, their relationship finally became a little friendlier than before. It was thanks to Zhu Lianzhen coming back early from Shanghai. During those few days, the only person he could talk to was Tan Qing, so naturally, they interacted more.
Winter passed, and everything started to come back to life.
One day, Tan Qing was asked by a teacher to help grade assignments, and he didn’t finish until a few minutes after the bell. He walked back to the school building at an unhurried pace. Every path on campus was quiet, and he could faintly hear the sound of students reading aloud.
When he reached the back path, Tan Qing saw someone climbing over the wall, apparently trying to sneak out of school.
Tan Qing’s footsteps were distinct, and he didn’t slow down at all as he walked straight to the base of the wall.
The person turned around in a panic. But the moment their eyes met, he let out a breath of relief.
“Oh, it’s you,” Zhu Lianzhen said, still a little shaken.
After joining the company, Tan Qing had transferred to a top high school closer to Zuige and was in the same grade as Koty. The middle school and high school sections weren’t far apart, so he often ran into Zhu Lianzhen.
“You’re heading out?” Tan Qing looked up and asked.
“Mm.” Zhu Lianzhen told him, “I don’t feel like attending evening self-study. I’m planning to go watch a band performance, but the teacher won’t approve my leave request. Don’t tell Pei-jie, okay?”
As he spoke, he was about to climb over the wall.
“Wait a second,” Tan Qing said.
Zhu Lianzhen paused. “Hm?”
Tan Qing was about to speak when a gust of wind blew by. The newly grown leaves rustled loudly, and a faint floral scent drifted through the air. Both of them instinctively squinted.
Once the wind passed, Tan Qing said, “Take me with you.”
Zhu Lianzhen froze for a moment, making sure he hadn’t misheard. What Tan Qing said wasn’t something like “I want to go too” or “Can you take me?”—it was a much more definite statement.
That response struck Zhu Lianzhen as oddly refreshing, so he agreed. “Alright.”
He placed one hand firmly on the wall, leaned his body down, and stretched out his other hand to pull Tan Qing up.
But Tan Qing didn’t take his hand. Instead, he stepped back slightly. Before Zhu Lianzhen could see him get a running start, there was just the faint scraping sound against the wall, and the next second, Tan Qing was already up beside him.
Zhu Lianzhen couldn’t help letting out a “Whoa” at his agility. He hadn’t realized Tan Qing had this much potential for skipping class.
Tan Qing neatly dusted off his hands. “Let’s go.”
After they left the school grounds, Zhu Lianzhen was a beat late in expressing his surprise. “What’s up with you today? Aren’t you a good student? Not afraid of getting scolded by the teacher?”
“If I’m a good student, why would the teacher scold me?”
“That…” Zhu Lianzhen couldn’t argue with that logic. “I just mean, don’t you usually follow the rules?”
Tan Qing really had acted on a whim this time.
Earlier, when he stood under the tree looking up at the figure on the wall, he had suddenly remembered how, as an audience member, he had once looked up at Zhu Lianzhen from that same angle.
“I just wanted a bit of change. Is that not allowed?” Tan Qing turned his head and smiled as he replied.
Zhu Lianzhen was slightly taken aback, but then his tone lightened unconsciously. “Alright.”
The band they saw that night wasn’t well-known, so they managed to get great seats at the venue. Zhu Lianzhen really liked their music and firmly believed that one day the band would become famous across the country. The atmosphere at the show was lively, with most of the audience being die-hard fans, enthusiastically engaging with the performers.
Tan Qing didn’t join in. He just listened quietly.
Along the way, he quietly watched the side profile of the person next to him under the lights. Zhu Lianzhen, even as a member of the audience, radiated the same energy he did on stage, fully immersed in the music and the performance. But the emotion in his eyes wasn’t admiration; it looked more like burning ambition.
By the time the show ended, it was already very late. Since there was no need to return to school for their backpacks, they hailed a cab and headed to the night market for food.
“What do you like about that band?” Tan Qing asked. “Their style? Or a specific song?”
Zhu Lianzhen stuffed a piping-hot fish ball into his mouth, inhaled sharply several times before he could answer. “The live performance was really powerful. Hoo—water, give me water!”
Tan Qing handed him his own bottle. Although Zhu Lianzhen didn’t touch the mouth of the bottle with his lips, the distance between them still exceeded the personal boundaries Tan Qing usually maintained with others.
“I thought you admired their singing technique,” Tan Qing said.
Back in the audience, he hadn’t noticed the so-called “powerful” presence. He had been focused on listening to the structure of the music while observing Zhu Lianzhen’s expressions. There were several moments when the band’s melody was ordinary, yet Zhu Lianzhen suddenly became excited. Tan Qing had even wondered if it was just because he wasn’t experienced enough to appreciate it.
“Technique’s important, of course, but on stage, presence is what really moves the audience.” Zhu Lianzhen told him, “Didn’t you feel it just now, when everyone was so hyped?”
“I did,” Tan Qing responded casually, then asked, “So what’s your ideal stage setup?”
“Well… it doesn’t really matter. I can dance anywhere.”
Tan Qing’s gaze swept over the crowd in the night market. When he fell into thought, the noise around him gradually faded. After a few seconds, he asked, “Then by your definition, what is a stage?”
Zhu Lianzhen thought for a moment before answering. “Me and the audience.”
Pure and simple. It was the only kind of answer that suited his style.
–
As early spring arrived, the central heating had already stopped, but Ronggang hadn’t warmed up yet, so Zhu Lianzhen had to keep the heater on at night.
After running it for a week straight, the heater, either from overuse or faulty parts, stopped blowing warm air one night. He was so cold he couldn’t sleep, and got up in the middle of the night to make hot cocoa in the living room.
Tan Qing usually went to bed late. When he found out Zhu Lianzhen’s room heater had broken, he said, “You can sleep in my room.”
By now, the two of them were already very familiar with each other. Naturally, Zhu Lianzhen didn’t stand on ceremony; he rolled up his pillow and blanket and went over.
Tan Qing was about to sleep in Zhu Lianzhen’s room, but when Zhu Lianzhen saw him packing his things, he finally reacted. “You’re not sleeping with me?”
Tan Qing gave him a look. Zhu Lianzhen didn’t think there was anything strange about it and kindly reminded him, “My room is seriously freezing. You’ll definitely wake up from the cold in the middle of the night.”
“If you don’t mind it being cramped,” Tan Qing said.
Zhu Lianzhen didn’t care. “I’ll sleep on the inside.”
The beds in the dorm were quite large, more than enough space for two boys to lie down. Zhu Lianzhen wrapped himself tightly in the blanket and quickly fell asleep, but he was a restless sleeper, tossing his arms and legs in every direction.
Tan Qing was squeezed to the very edge of the bed—any further and he would’ve fallen off. He wasn’t used to having someone next to him while sleeping, and now it was even harder for him to rest.
He thought about going to sleep on the sofa in the living room, but the blanket was pinned under Zhu Lianzhen, and pulling it out by force would probably wake him. Left with no choice, Tan Qing could only shift back inwards a little, until the tip of his nose was nearly touching Zhu Lianzhen’s hair.
He lay there like that the whole night, only managing to fall asleep near dawn.
Zhu Lianzhen woke up right on schedule and was surprised to see that Tan Qing was still sleeping. Usually, it was Tan Qing who woke him up. If it had been any other teammate, Zhu Lianzhen would have immediately woken them up for breakfast. But since it was Tan Qing, he felt a bit embarrassed to disturb him.
His phone was placed far away, so Zhu Lianzhen had no choice but to lie there idly. He tilted his head and studied Tan Qing’s sleeping face. To be honest, he really was good-looking. In any crowd, he’d instantly stand out.
He practiced singing and dancing with impressive dedication. But effort alone wasn’t what made Zhu Lianzhen truly respect him. More importantly, after all that effort, Tan Qing produced real results. Zhu Lianzhen didn’t know how to describe Tan Qing’s talent; maybe “scary smart” was the closest way to put it.
Tan Qing didn’t wake up until noon. He wasn’t the type to laze around in bed, so he quickly got up to change clothes and wash up. He hadn’t slept well—his nerves had been tense the whole night, like he’d been stuck in a nightmare.
The first thing he did after getting up was call a repairman to fix the heater. He couldn’t let Zhu Lianzhen stay over again tonight.
Zhu Lianzhen threw on his jacket. “Let’s go. I’ll take you to breakfast.”
Tan Qing glanced at the time. “It’s already noon.”
“Even if it’s three in the morning, the first meal of the day is still called breakfast,” Zhu Lianzhen said with perfect logic.
Tired of the company cafeteria, they headed to the commercial street. It was the busiest time of day. Normally, Tan Qing wouldn’t choose street food, but Zhu Lianzhen loved wandering around and bought several kinds of snacks.
“This takoyaki is really good. There’s a whole octopus inside.” Zhu Lianzhen hurriedly swallowed so his words were clear. “Try it.”
Tan Qing was about to say “No need,” but before he could speak, Zhu Lianzhen had already speared one with a toothpick and held it up to his mouth.
He cooperated and opened his mouth to take it.
Zhu Lianzhen always interacted with people at whatever distance he pleased. Sometimes, Tan Qing found it hard to get used to that kind of closeness, but he didn’t dislike being treated this way by Zhu Lianzhen.
Maybe he really did want to change himself. Ever since he’d accepted Pei Qiao’s invitation to become a trainee, he’d been thinking more seriously about the value of his life going forward.
Since there was nothing in this world he absolutely had to do, he might as well try walking down this path his mother had once called… “suitable” for him.
Besides, he wanted to understand more, to grasp the allure of the life his mother had once longed for but never obtained.
And if the answer could be found in another person, then Tan Qing felt that Zhu Lianzhen was the most suitable person for that.
Zhu Lianzhen’s emotions were always visible. His likes and dislikes were obvious, he spoke his mind freely, and acted purely on instinct. That kind of raw, unfiltered nature often made it difficult for Tan Qing to fully grasp him.
But it didn’t matter. He still had a long time to spend with this teammate, and there would be many chances… to understand the world through Zhu Lianzhen’s eyes.
After lunch, Zhu Lianzhen didn’t want to go back just yet. He wandered around with Tan Qing for a bit, then suddenly had an idea. “Come on, I’ll take you ice skating.”
Every time Zhu Lianzhen said “come on,” there was a kind of determination that left no room for hesitation. Tan Qing had gotten used to his spontaneous plans, and sometimes even felt a strange illusion: that as long as he kept following him, he could go anywhere.
