After the torrential rain came a sunny day.
Since he had no work that day, Zhu Lianzhen immediately drove to the animal hospital. When he heard the doctor say the kitten had made it through the critical period, he finally let out a sigh of relief.
The hospital had a large room filled with stray cats and dogs, each kept in its own cage, their cries echoing nonstop. Some had been abandoned, while others were picked up by kind-hearted people who later washed their hands of responsibility. Zhu Lianzhen inquired about the daily expenses needed to care for them and paid an amount to cover six months—hopefully enough to get them to the day they were adopted.
A week later, the doctor contacted Zhu Lianzhen to say that the kitten he had brought in was now lively and energetic, and that he could take it home if he planned to adopt it.
Zhu Lianzhen felt torn. His job made it impossible to keep a regular schedule at home, and he feared he wouldn’t be able to care for the kitten properly. For the time being, he also couldn’t find a suitable friend to take over. Seeing how much he liked the kitten, Tan Qing said, “Just bring it home first. Who knows, maybe after a few days with it, you won’t want to keep it anymore.”
As long as he phrased things in reverse of what he actually meant, it was easier to push Zhu Lianzhen into making a decision. Zhu Lianzhen brought the kitten home. Every time he gave it medicine, he would habitually say “Nice” as praise. He said it so often that the kitten started thinking the word referred to itself. So “Nice” naturally became its name, rendered in Chinese as “Naisi.” It was a white, long-haired Persian.
Caring for a flat-faced cat required attention to more minor details than usual. The first thing Zhu Lianzhen did when leaving or returning home each day was help Naisi wipe its face. When he was younger, his family had kept several dogs, but there had always been someone else in charge of feeding and training them, while he only ever played with them. This was the first time he truly experienced what it meant to be responsible for a living creature.
When Naisi turned six months old, Zhu Lianzhen introduced it to fans on Weibo, saying it was family to him in Ronggang and would appear frequently in the future. Many fans commented, asking for all sorts of information about Naisi and how they might follow his example and rescue a stray. Zhu Lianzhen patiently replied, but in explaining too much, he accidentally gave away the circumstances of that night.
Fans discovered that he had picked up the cat in the middle of the night and that Tan Qing had been present. Combining that with known rainy days, they deduced that Tan Qing had gone straight to Zhu Lianzhen’s home in Ronggang after wrapping up his filming.
The QingZhen CP was already wildly popular, and when Zhu Lianzhen unintentionally gave fans this sweet moment, they were so happy it felt like they were floating on air.
Zhu Lianzhen, on the other hand, deeply regretted it. Tan Qing asked if he was afraid of being found out by fans. Zhu Lianzhen opened his mouth but couldn’t answer. Of course he was afraid, but what exactly was he most afraid of people finding out? A secret relationship? Being gay? Dating within the group? Or… was it the fear that this identity might affect his future? All these factors tangled together, and it was hard not to feel lost.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Zhu Lianzhen pretended to sound indifferent. “Ting-ge got scolded over and over after his relationship was exposed, but he’s still doing just fine.”
“You’re not like him,” Tan Qing said.
“We’re in the same group. To the outside world, there’s not much difference.” Zhu Lianzhen didn’t want to continue the topic and quickly changed it. “How about traveling abroad this summer? I saw on the news that it’s going to be the hottest summer in decades here.”
“Okay.”
They made plans for a summer trip while their teammates weren’t paying attention. Zhu Lianzhen stroked the curled-up cat on his lap while secretly watching Tan Qing. Tan Qing wore narrow-rimmed glasses, and when he looked down, the phone screen’s glow reflected in the lenses.
Zhu Lianzhen didn’t know why, but he felt a little glad that this unadorned, focused version of Tan Qing wasn’t something others could see—not even his most devoted fans could picture it.
It wasn’t that his usual styling wasn’t good enough. It was just that the flawless public image belonged to the audience, while Zhu Lianzhen preferred this simple, pure, unembellished private side.
He was lost in thought when a sudden scream rang out from downstairs.
Tan Qing turned his head slightly, calmly identifying the source of the voice. “Koty.”
Zhu Lianzhen rubbed Naisi’s ear, moved the cat off his lap, and went downstairs to see what had happened.
Koty was in the downstairs bathroom, running cold water from the tap over his arm. When he saw Zhu Lianzhen, he immediately asked him to grab some ice. Zhu Lianzhen did as asked and, upon handing it over, noticed a red mark on Koty’s forearm.
When he asked about it, he found out Fu Rong had burned him with a cigarette.
Zhu Lianzhen didn’t even bother being curious about the reason. “You provoked him again, huh? Never learn your lesson, always forgetting the pain once the wound is healed… Oh wait, maybe this time the wound won’t heal.”
Out of sympathy, Zhu Lianzhen found some burn cream from his own medicine kit and gave it to him. After Koty applied it, he said meaningfully, “Actually, I’m not afraid of a scar. I’ll just take it as a mark Fu Rong left on me.”
“So every time you see the wound, you’ll think of him? Is that it?” Zhu Lianzhen frowned in disgust. “Seriously? That’s so emo. When did you start going down the same path as Ting-ge?”
Koty replied, “Well, what else can I do? I can’t win in a fight with him! I’ve gotta comfort myself somehow.”
Zhu Lianzhen had no way of dealing with Koty, so he didn’t bother persuading him. He went back upstairs and repeated the whole thing to Tan Qing, who just curled his lips slightly, unable to offer any comment.
After a while, Tan Qing murmured thoughtfully, “Leaving a mark on the body isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”
“Hmm?” Zhu Lianzhen hadn’t been paying attention.
“Let’s go to the Southern Hemisphere.”
“Sure.” Zhu Lianzhen had no objections. He just needed a change of scenery, somewhere no one knew them. Anywhere would do.
After the promotion period for their new album ended, the company gave them a one-month vacation. Zhu Lianzhen offered his assistant double pay in exchange for taking care of Naisi.
They flew to New Zealand and spent five days in Queenstown first. Zhu Lianzhen went skiing every day. The snow sparkled silver under the sunlight, and he especially loved the feeling of wind brushing swiftly across his cheeks. The rest of the time, they wandered around the South Island, traveling by car and boat, seeing mountains and lakes.
The local food didn’t suit their tastes much, and Zhu Lianzhen wasn’t very interested when it came to mealtimes. While walking around, he suddenly noticed Tan Qing had stopped outside a shop, staring at the sign.
It was a tattoo studio. Zhu Lianzhen had always disapproved of altering the body in pursuit of beauty or individuality. The most he could accept was hair dye and ear piercings—styling was just part of the job. But when Tan Qing brought up the idea of leaving a mark on his body related to him, Zhu Lianzhen found it hard to say no.
Tan Qing rarely asked him for anything, and when he did, Zhu Lianzhen always said yes.
He helped Tan Qing pick a discreet spot for the tattoo. The artist warned that it would be painful there, but Tan Qing just shook his head indifferently and accepted it. He showed the tattoo artist a picture from his phone. It was a simple design made of a black crescent moon intersected by a single line, resembling a minimalist bow and arrow. It was Zhu Lianzhen’s personal emblem after debut, called the “Bow of the Moon God.” Next to it was a line of Latin script, with delicate and sharp handwriting: Provehito in altum.
Only then did Zhu Lianzhen realize this wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision. He asked Tan Qing what the line meant, and Tan Qing said it was about the future.
No anesthetic was used during the tattooing process. The fine needle pierced directly into the surface layer of skin, moving steadily at more than a dozen punctures per second. The artist had a steady hand and quickly completed the outline, then began coloring it in. Tan Qing leaned against the cushioned chair, eyes lowered, quietly watching the needle tip and slowly taking in the pain it brought.
Zhu Lianzhen asked him if it hurt. Tan Qing shook his head.
Then, after hesitating for a moment, Zhu Lianzhen said, “I can do it too.”
Sometimes people change their minds just like that. He felt that a secret should belong to both of them, so if Tan Qing had done something, he was willing to do it too.
In the two weeks they spent idly in New Zealand, the black ink settled perfectly into their skin. Zhu Lianzhen reached back to touch the spot on his lower back, and it felt no different from the rest of his skin.
They staggered their return dates. Zhu Lianzhen flew to Shanghai, deciding to have an honest conversation with his parents.
He had long since prepared himself mentally, even rehearsed how he would apologize. But once he got home, Zhu Lianzhen realized he had underestimated just how tolerant and loving his parents were. Zhu Kaiping did get angry with him, but that was as far as it went. He didn’t demand they break up, didn’t reject his identity—at most just scolded him, saying, “You’re really something else.” And knowing him, that barely counted as criticism.
Tang Wen maintained her graceful and refined composure as always. She looked at Zhu Lianzhen with concern and first asked a slew of trivial questions before cautiously bringing up Tan Qing. Zhu Lianzhen deliberately described Tan Qing using qualities that elders tended to appreciate. As Tang Wen listened, her brows slowly began to relax. Though she had never met the person in question and couldn’t judge him hastily, she could clearly sense Zhu Lianzhen’s affection for the boy through his words.
What mattered most to Tang Wen was that her son could live a healthy and happy life. As long as he stayed true to himself, she didn’t want to interfere too much as his mother.
His family was his greatest support. After coming out to his parents, Zhu Lianzhen felt a significant weight lifted from his mind.
“Do you live together?” his mother asked.
“No, we live separately. Only during training before a new song release do we all stay in one place.” Soon after Zhu Lianzhen finished speaking, he suddenly recalled the days before debut, when he and Tan Qing had shared a dorm room. Aside from the early stage when they weren’t close, the overall experience had been very comfortable.
After returning to Ronggang, Zhu Lianzhen often browsed housing listings on his phone. He picked out several villas in the suburbs and asked Tan Qing which one seemed best.
Tan Qing thought he was planning to move and gave his honest opinion, “They’re all pretty far from the airport, so not that convenient.”
“Of course we wouldn’t live there while working. It’s for when we want to rest.”
Zhu Lianzhen spoke of living together so naturally that he forgot he hadn’t even asked for Tan Qing’s opinion. Deep down, he had simply assumed Tan Qing would agree.
In that moment, Tan Qing couldn’t put his feelings into words. He just felt an unprecedented sense of ease, followed by a helplessness that came with it.
He stared at Zhu Lianzhen and couldn’t help but think: You’re always like this.
Always breaking through his dilemmas so effortlessly, and yet completely unaware of doing so. Tan Qing kept getting unshackled by him, only to willingly fall into new chains because of him. He knew full well this wasn’t home, but he still wanted to step into this dream bound to end. Perhaps because he’d spent too much time with Zhu Lianzhen, his thinking had somehow become just as naive.
This time, he didn’t respond with his usual “I’m fine with anything.” Instead, he earnestly selected and compared the choices together, imagining the life they might have in the future.
When they finally made their decision, Zhu Lianzhen tossed aside his phone, lay back on the bed to relax his sore shoulders, and scooped up the passing cat. Naisi looked baffled being lifted into the air, only to hear him cheer, “We’ve got a new home!”
