A Gong-Perspective Collection of Short Stories - Chapter 5

On stage, You Xingge was completely oblivious. He was poured into the performance, a beautiful glissando pushed the music toward its climax. All the instruments roared together, and the lights and the sea of people surged like a fluid ocean.

Cheng Jiye’s highest keys were also stunningly beautiful, delivered with a sharpness that was hard to resist.

In the middle of the overwhelming music, the lead singer and the guitarist locked eyes. The drumbeats vibrated so hard they made one’s heart ache. The whirlpool-like musical atmosphere pulled them both in—intoxicating, chaotic, surging like ocean waves.

You Xingge saw that Cheng Jiye had eyes that were unnaturally deep. Infected by the emotion of the music, the corners of his eyes were swept by the lights until they turned slightly red, inadvertently revealing the sanctuary where intoxicated music finds its rest.

That tide seemed ready to bury everyone. The speakers, which even the applause and cheers couldn’t drown out, were tumbling. Drumbeats, ash, and dancing; alcohol, high heels, and the sweaty scent of a crowded tide. As they exploded together, they brought people into a dreamlike mirror of art, as if rushing back into the dimly lit, drag-heavy rock and roll of the 1960s.

You Xingge looked away. The glance Cheng Jiye swept over him made him feel like he needed water; his throat was as dry as if he had swallowed a whole loaf of whole-wheat bread. Yet, he continued to follow the rhythm, plucking the strings.

The band needed a guitarist, and this book needed a decorative ‘green leaf’ supporting character. He had to maintain his professional ethics.

The swaying stage lights brought a shift in focus. The guitarist swept through the restless air thick with emotional tides, his smooth notes and variations suppressing the eager crowd.

Among the countless fiery gazes cast from below the stage, the focused curly-haired guitarist keenly detected one that was exceptionally different. But by the time he tried to capture it, it had discreetly vanished into the darkness below.

You Xingge raised an eyebrow almost imperceptibly. Having spent years navigating various gazes in the ‘hunting grounds’, he could easily distinguish the intentions of those watching. That kind of gaze—surging beneath a dark undercurrent, bearing fangs—came from someone who had almost encountered their own kind.

Like a hunter preparing to invade a border.

You Xingge subconsciously flashed a smile, his eyes shining. The hue reflected from the dark gold surface of his guitar bathed him as well, stripping away his youthful exterior and making him look beautiful and rebellious.

Cheng Jiye, who hadn’t forgotten to glance at their guitarist even while singing, paused. He couldn’t help but steal another look at You Xingge before his next verse. The curly-haired guitarist looked radiant after plucking a string, making it impossible to look away.

Who knows what he’s smiling at down there.

He’s simply too outstanding-looking.

In a place like this, it wasn’t a good thing for their ‘innocent’ guitarist to look like that.

Cheng Jiye lowered his eyes somewhat lazily. The mic stand he held was ice cold, and his music slid into a lower key along with him.

That gaze soon vanished without a trace, so You Xingge didn’t bother to investigate further. His coordination with the band grew more and more seamless, and Charles was grinning even while hitting the drums.

The performance ended with applause and cheers. It had lasted about three hours; by the time they got off stage, it was midnight again.

The previous audience had demanded an encore and thrown quite a few stuffed animals onto the stage. Li Gu almost tripped over one, eventually deciding to take one home for his daughter to play with.

Even at midnight, many people below the stage were exhausted after singing and dancing for so long. Still, some quick-handed fans waited for Cheng Jiye to exit from the side to stuff small notes into his hands. Some bold ones even rushed forward to give him things directly. Cheng Jiye, having the foresight to wear a hat, pulled the brim extremely low and exited through the side door.

The notes he casually tossed into the trash can contained contact info with lipstick kiss marks, explicit content that would make an average person blush, and even hotel room numbers—all mixed together like a mess of tangled lines.

ONE was a resident band signed with the bar and had been here for a year or two, accumulating quite a few fans. But Cheng Jiye was among the principled bunch in the band scene, he really wasn’t the type to pick fans to mess with.

Charles and the others knew their lead singer and You Xingge lived under the same roof. When they waved goodbye, they were a bit confused not to see You Xingge.

Just as Cheng Jiye was about to go through the side door to check, he saw You Xingge, carrying his guitar bag, accepting a bouquet of fresh flowers from a girl in the shadows of the side entrance.

The girl had red ribbons braided into her hair and wore a dress of the same color. She looked a bit shy while saying something to You Xingge. It was just barely audible—something about giving them to him.

After only two sentences, the girl became embarrassed; the attempt at conversation broke off, and she stammered, unable to speak further.

In Cheng Jiye’s view, You Xingge smiled at the girl and said he liked the flowers very much. Only then did the girl breathe a sigh of relief. Her red hair ties swayed as she waved goodbye to You Xingge with a cute posture that seemed almost unbelievable for a bar setting.

Cheng Jiye’s gaze turned toward You Xingge.

Standing by the side door with one hand in his pocket, the heavy starlight from outside was pulled into the doorway with him. He could see You Xingge taking the flowers and pulling them into his arms, appearing to really like them. His clean face still carried a smile, and against the red roses, he looked as clear as a dewdrop.

A look of non-committal passed through Cheng Jiye’s narrow, deep eyes.

When You Xingge first arrived, people had offered him flowers after performances, but he hadn’t accepted them.

So—the face of that girl flashed through Cheng Jiye’s mind. She looked quite cute—Does he favor that type?

A subtle feeling welled up in his heart.

Meanwhile, You Xingge, who had received the roses, was currently trying to make sense of what the girl had just said. Her voice had been so shy that he only managed to hear that she was delivering them for a friend before she ran off.

The flowers were beautiful, layered and tucked inside newspaper, blooming in a way that was somewhat arrogant and rebellious.

It didn’t quite match that girl’s shy personality.

Since she was delivering them for a friend, he didn’t see where that friend was.

You Xingge looked at the roses, pondering this question.

As he was thinking, a shadow fell beside him. Cheng Jiye’s shadow—the one that couldn’t keep his hair down—cast a bit of darkness over the roses. He turned his head and saw the male lead’s impossibly cool face appearing before him.

This turn of the head was too sudden. Separated only by the bouquet, the two men’s breathing drew close.

Entangled, fresh air mixed with the decadent fragrance of the flowers.

Cheng Jiye paused. He wanted to take a step back but felt the movement would be too abrupt, so he was forced to meet You Xingge’s chestnut eyes. His voice was inexplicably dry: “Leaving?”

Actually, the roses really complemented You Xingge’s chestnut eyes. A prince growing up beside wheat fields and rivers in a Western European fairy tale probably had eyes just like these.

You Xingge looked into those deep eyes, where something resembling a drowned sea was quietly suppressed. His heart stirred, and he revealed a clear smile: “Wait a second.”

The branches beneath the roses had stopped growing the moment they were picked; sooner or later, they would wither miserably. But You Xingge had always cherished beautiful things, even if he could only possess them for a moment.

He tidied the newspaper wrapping the roses. The starlight coming through the side door from the distant sky and the few remaining lights in the bar’s front hall made his face look serious.

Seeing him cherish the bouquet so much, the words Cheng Jiye had intended to say couldn’t be held back. His voice was very gentle: “It’s fine to accept flowers from fans, but—”

Just as his tone shifted, You Xingge looked up with those clear eyes, and Cheng Jiye suddenly stumbled over his words.

The curly-haired youth’s hand, which was gathering the bouquet, stopped. He made a confused sound: “Hmm?”

Cheng Jiye swallowed the sentence “don’t date fans.” He switched to a more indirect way of putting it: “If you’re interested, I still suggest you focus more of your energy on music.”

Not just the band, but music itself.

There were always rumors that the guitarist was the member with the most scandals in any band. This wasn’t entirely accurate, people in bands could be promiscuous regardless of their role. If someone was a “player,” their bed would be a revolving door of people—hookups, sleeping with fans, groupies, orgies. Chaotic, rebellious music provides musicians with the ultimate filter, making them worshipped and adored by thousands, only to lose their original intentions in the flash and glamor.

Their new guitarist was young, innocent, and had a face that was far too gorgeous, so he naturally felt a responsibility to warn him.

You Xingge was a very pure young man with a passion for music; Cheng Jiye could see it in his eyes—that shimmering look when he gazed at a guitar. So he hoped that no matter where You Xingge went, he would still possess such sincere eyes.

Cheng Jiye’s gaze, combined with his words, made the curly-haired youth blink.

He had just accepted some flowers; why did Cheng Jiye suddenly think so much?

Setting aside whether he had any intention of dating, even if he did, he wouldn’t choose a girl as a partner.

You Xingge carried the flowers: “It’s just someone’s kind gesture.”

He crinkled his eyes and continued: “But, I understand what you mean.”

“Thanks, bro,” he said softly.

Although he didn’t know what kind of ‘eighteen bends in a mountain road’ thoughts were going through Cheng Jiye’s head, it didn’t stop You Xingge from feeling that Cheng Jiye was a bit different from the typical Qidian male lead.

He worries so much, You Xingge noted internally.

Cheng Jiye nodded, noticing once again that You Xingge kept the word “bro” on the tip of his tongue.

Considering how sweet and clever this person’s smile was, he paused for a moment and finally tacitly accepted the title.

When You Xingge stepped out of the side door, Cheng Jiye still maintained his cold, pensive posture. You Xingge hugged the bouquet to his chest. Seeing that sharp-edged face under the messy, thick hair, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander:

Actually, even if I can’t date the male lead, having a hookup should be fine, right?

He truly had a bit of a desire to put this idea into practice.

An accident occurs, and a good brother can certainly roll into bed with another ‘good brother’.

In the end, it was You Xingge’s faintly aching conscience that pulled it all back.

He actually wasn’t in that much of a hurry.

You Xingge had always possessed the ultimate patience. The things he wanted, he would eventually get.

He would wait for the male lead to climb into his bowl on his own.