Chapter 35

That evening, Lin Ze sat there, lost in thought. Situ Ye went to the kitchen to cook. Zheng Jie had gone out on a date and came back early to sleep in his room.

Situ Ye and Lin Ze sat in silence. Lin Ze smoked heavily, the ashtray filled with cigarette butts.

“I’ve thought of almost every possible solution,” Situ Ye murmured.

“I can’t control what happens to that girl. You’re more important to me. But marriage is a sacred thing—it can’t be left unresolved. Otherwise, we won’t be able to live together in peace. I don’t want to sleep with a ticking time bomb,” Lin Ze replied.

As he spoke, he looked at Situ Ye. “So we need to find a way to get you divorced safely.”

Situ Ye nodded. “Okay, I’ll listen to you. When?”

They fell silent again.

When Lin Ze looked up, he saw the sorrow in Situ Ye’s eyes. He was startled to realize that Situ Ye was trembling with grief, and it finally dawned on him that he might truly mean a great deal to Situ Ye.

But to Lin Ze, Situ Ye was just a complication.

Because of this, Situ Ye understood many things clearly. He knew what Lin Ze was thinking, and Lin Ze, in turn, believed he couldn’t protect him—or perhaps, he didn’t love Situ Ye enough to die for him.

Lin Ze didn’t dare meet his gaze. He lit another cigarette. “What about seeking help from the local police?”

Situ Ye forced a smile and shook his head. “Impossible. They can’t interfere. Muslim society has its own set of rules—outsiders can’t intervene.”

“But you can still get divorced through your own means, right?”

“Yes, but divorce is rare. Allah despises divorce more than any other lawful act.”

Lin Ze rubbed his temples, unable to think of a solution. He sat there, unsure how much time had passed, before finally dozing off at the table.

In his drowsy state, he felt Situ Ye’s hand on his head, gently stroking his hair.

Lin Ze jolted awake, bleary-eyed. “What time is it?”

“Seven.”

He got up to brush his teeth and wash his face. Zheng Jie was still asleep. After a moment’s hesitation, Lin Ze decided not to disturb him. “Are you going to work?”

“I want to sleep a bit more.”

“Alright, then… rest at home. I’ll come back after my morning shift. Don’t overthink it—we’ll find a way.”

Worried that Situ Ye was carrying too much emotional weight, Lin Ze leaned over the table and took Situ Ye’s left hand. “Look at this ring,” he whispered, rubbing the base of Situ Ye’s ring finger with his thumb and forefinger. “We’ll be together. Wait for me.”

Lin Ze packed his things and left for work. Before going, he raised his hand to show Situ Ye his own ring and smiled. Situ Ye smiled back.

That morning, Lin Ze was distracted. He wanted to call Situ Ye but feared he might still be sleeping. He felt completely out of sorts—he’d only slept for three hours the night before and was groggy. When he checked his account at work, his salary had come in. Six thousand yuan this month—the only good news in days.

He skipped lunch and went home, planning to take Situ Ye to a movie and a nice meal to ease the tension. They could figure things out slowly. After all, they weren’t sleeping together—they could just live together for now.

But when he opened the door, he found the house spotless. Zheng Jie was asleep in his room.

On the dining table was a note:

[A’Ze, you’re right. Marriage is sacred—not just with her, but with you too. You gave me a ring, and I know you want to marry me. I’ll go back and resolve this myself. Once it’s settled, I’ll call you.]

Situ Ye was gone.

Damn it… why was he so stubborn? Lin Ze called Situ Ye, but his phone was off.

He stood in the house for a while—his salary had just come in, and now Situ Ye was really leaving. No, he’d never changed his mind yesterday!

Fuck… Lin Ze stood there a moment longer before heading out to hail a cab to the airport.

When he arrived at Jiangbei Airport, Lin Ze stood outside security, watching the crowds come and go. He searched everywhere but couldn’t find Situ Ye.

He waited at the airport until six, but Situ Ye never appeared.

Finally, he went home.

[First person perspective: writer]

Dawn broke. Neither of us had slept all night, but we were still wide awake.

I asked, “He just left? You didn’t find him at the airport?”

Lin Ze: “Nope. If I had, it’d be a K-drama. But reality isn’t a K-drama. What time is it? I should just take the day off.”

Lin Ze stretched. I checked the time—5:30 a.m.

As I refilled the kettle, I asked, “What happened next? You’ve got to finish the story quickly, or I won’t be able to sleep.”

Lin Ze answered, “After that, I just came back. What else could I do?”

Just like that, Situ Ye vanished from Lin Ze’s life. No matter how many times Lin Ze called, he never answered.

“Did you go looking for him later?” I asked.

Lin Ze nodded. “Yeah, Zheng Jie went with me. We stayed in Karamay for three days, asking around. When we went to the police station, the officers just laughed and said they couldn’t do anything, so we came back.”

“No contact after that?”

[Third person perspective: Lin Ze]

Half a month later, while checking his account, Lin Ze noticed that the card he’d once given Situ Ye to buy car insurance now had an extra 300,000 yuan.

Lin Ze, used to being broke, had never seen so much money in his account—300,000. A “3” followed by a string of zeros.

Standing in front of the ATM, Lin Ze didn’t know how to feel.

After a long silence, he let out a furious roar and punched the machine, leaving his card behind as he stormed off.

People in line stared. A young man retrieved the card and caught up to Lin Ze, slipping it into his suit pocket and patting his shoulder.

[First person perspective: writer]

“The water’s boiling,” Lin Ze reminded me.

I got up to make tea. Lin Ze continued, “I used to think time could heal anything. But later, I realized some loves can be cured by time—others can’t. Really can’t. When Situ Ye left, it was just a small wound. But over time, it grew until I could barely stand it.”

I didn’t interrupt, just poured him more tea. Lin Ze went on, “I called him every day, hoping for an explanation. Every time, his phone was off. Eventually, the number was disconnected.”

I offered, “But in this world, many things have no explanation, no reason, no justification. Even if you demand answers, sometimes people won’t give them to you.”

Lin Ze smiled helplessly. “But I still got one. Half a month later, he called me.”

“He was crying so hard on the phone, telling me he might never come back but would always keep his love for me in his heart. He said the 300,000 was money his mother had left him when he was young—in case his family mistreated him—to start a family and marry. Now he was giving it all to me. His mother, after her divorce, had told him to bring his lover to Madrid to meet her someday.”

“But he told me he only wanted to marry me in this lifetime and would never love anyone else again. He admitted he knew I didn’t love him—I was just tired and wanted someone to be with.”

“I think he might’ve been drunk. One moment, he said he’d live with that girl, try to become ‘normal’ again, love her properly, and forget me. The next, he claimed when he turned sixty, seventy, even eighty—when his father, brother, and wife were all dead—he’d come find me. If I was still single and willing to love him then, we could finally be together as two old men. He also asked if he could keep the ring I gave him, saying he’d treasure it.”

“I felt numb, detached. I should’ve cried, but instead, I comforted him, told him not to cry, to live his life well. I didn’t even hear half of what he was saying because Zheng Jie was watching TV next to me.”

“The wind was loud on his end. He told me he was smoking in the desert, the moon was full, and asked me to look outside—at least we could see the same moon, and that was something. He mentioned it was his first time smoking, that it was awful, and he didn’t understand why I smoked so much. By the end, we were both laughing.”

Lin Ze said, “He was laughing and crying, and I was going crazy listening. I don’t even remember what I said. Finally, his prepaid credit ran out. He muttered that this was our last contact, that he was throwing the SIM card away. ‘Goodnight, A’Ze.’ Before I could say anything else, he hung up.”

Bubbles rose and burst in the transparent kettle.

Lin Ze’s phone rang—5:40 a.m. He answered, saying he was at my place reading. No doubt his boyfriend had woken up to find him gone and called to check.

Lin Ze mentioned he was at my place and asked him to bring breakfast over before hanging up. After a brief silence, we returned to the topic.

I wanted to comment, but the story had left me speechless. After scrambling for words, I finally asked, “Anything else?”

“What else is there?” Lin Ze leaned back in his chair, rocking slightly. After a moment, he continued, “Later, one day, Zheng Jie and I went to eat at a French barbecue place in Darongcheng…”

[Third person perspective: Lin Ze]

One day, Zheng Jie bought a group coupon, and he and Lin Ze went to a restaurant to celebrate his new job. The barbecue setup was a square table with the chef in the middle grilling meat, searing foie gras, and frying fish fillets while customers sat around.

The chef was a handsome young man with a shiny earring in his left ear. Though young, he was skilled, flipping ingredients with two small spatulas—part performance, part cooking.

As the chef grilled steaks for the customers, he occasionally glanced toward another part of the restaurant. Lin Ze noticed this small gesture and assumed he was checking the time, waiting for his shift to end.

He and Zheng Jie had bought a couples’ group coupon. The food came first, followed by ice cream—two servings. But when the ice cream arrived, only one portion was brought over.

Zheng Jie, thinking it was a mistake or a scam, questioned the manager, “What’s going on? Only one?”

The boy serving the ice cream looked about sixteen or seventeen and didn’t know how to respond.

The manager hurried over and scolded the boy. The chef watched for a moment before stepping in. “It’s fine, just bring another one. No big deal.”

Lin Ze understood—the chef had been looking in that direction because of this boy. He interjected, “It’s nothing, don’t scold him. Just bring another serving.”

The manager backed off. The chef wiped his hands and smiled at Lin Ze. “Thanks. He’s new—still learning.”

Lin Ze nodded. A moment later, the chef glanced toward the corner again. When he looked down and saw Lin Ze watching him, they both smiled.

Lin Ze sighed, leaning back in his chair. For some reason, he thought of Situ Ye—and realized he’d never forget him.

[First person perspective: writer]

I asked, “What happened after that?”

A knock interrupted us again. I opened the door to Lin Ze’s boyfriend, who’d brought breakfast. “You guys talked all night?”

“Sit down,” Lin Ze told him. “You can ask him about the rest, though his version would probably paint me in a bad light.”

“Eh, the world’s all white, I’m the only black one… Wait, it’s him?!” I was stunned. “Divorced? He came back?!”

Lin Ze nodded. “Yeah, it’s him. Divorced. Came back.”

“What?” His boyfriend looked confused.

I quickly laughed it off with Lin Ze, brushing it aside.

Lin Ze’s boyfriend was still in pajamas. Seeming to understand, he turned to Lin Ze. “Aren’t you going to work today?”

“No, I’ll call in sick and go back to sleep,” Lin Ze replied.

I’d changed all the names and locations earlier, but seeing the real person was still surreal—like a character from a book had stepped into reality. The person Lin Ze described and the one standing before me now matched well, with no major discrepancies.

Lin Ze and I split the breakfast. His boyfriend didn’t eat, instead browsing my bookshelf. “Can I borrow a few?”

“Sure. ‘Books are best when borrowed.’ Take what you want.” I asked him, “Do you have any stories to tell me?”

He just smiled without answering. I pressed, “Would writing about you cause any trouble?”

After a pause, he responded, “No, go ahead. You can ask him anything—if he thinks it’s okay to share, I’ll tell you.”

Pig-Bear woke up and came out to wash up, greeting Lin Ze’s boyfriend. The two chatted easily.

I noticed Lin Ze’s boyfriend seemed a bit shy around me—probably because I knew too much about his past. No matter how I tried to engage him, he remained awkward—not hostile, but in a “A’Ze told you all my embarrassing stories, so I’m not talking to you!” kind of way. Occasionally, when I hit a sore spot, he’d laugh helplessly and tell me to stop.

He and Pig-Bear, however, had plenty to talk about. Over breakfast, they discussed gossip about another gay couple in our neighborhood.

That couple had a golden retriever and used to walk their dogs with Lin Ze’s group. But a month ago, they broke up and fought over the dog like a custody battle. Eventually, they agreed to stand on opposite sides of a lawn, with Lin Ze’s boyfriend making the dog sit in the middle. They’d call the dog’s name, and whoever it went to would keep it.

The dog stood in the middle, whining for a long time, as if sensing what was happening. The bottom got angry and turned to leave. The golden retriever, realizing something was wrong, ran over to lick his hand to comfort him—and followed the bottom.

The bottom moved out that day. Later, the top prepared to marry, and his wife moved in half a month later. Now, whenever the top saw Lin Ze’s couple, he avoided them, pretending not to know them.

Without the dog, even walks became unnecessary. Lin Ze’s boyfriend recounted that a few nights ago, he’d seen the top drunk, vomiting and crying by a streetlight before collapsing on the road, shouting like a madman, “Come on, come hit me! Just run me over already!”

Lin Ze had moved in earlier than me and knew more neighbors. After some casual chitchat and breakfast, he remarked, “There’s more to the story. I’ll tell you in detail another day.”

I said, “Actually, this draft could end here with some polishing.”

Lin Ze’s boyfriend asked, “The one you’re writing?”

Lin Ze: “Yeah. Some other stuff happened later… Hey, you should head to work. Don’t be late—you’ve already missed a few days this month.”

Lin Ze’s boyfriend drove Pig-Bear to work (which sounded strange, like a circus wagon transporting a rare animal for display). Meanwhile, Lin Ze borrowed a few books from my place for his boyfriend to read.

If Lin Ze’s story were a novel, it could easily end here… Starting with a setup where both Situ Ye and Xie Chenfeng were interested in Lin Ze, introducing Situ Ye in Chapter 1, making him perfect and mature, Xie Chenfeng leaving heartbroken, the desert prince and down-and-out wanderer Situ Ye staying by his side… Later, the prince gets dragged back home to marry, Lin Ze fights alongside him, all kinds of drama and tragic love, culminating in a grand, bloody climax—lights dimming, a sudden glance back, and the lovers finally united. The End.

I asked Lin Ze if he wanted me to rework it artistically—there was still time to revise the earlier parts, turning it into a beautiful, romantic “New Chongqing Love Story.” Lin Ze shuddered, “No, no, this is fine.”

“Alright, let’s talk another time.” After listening to the story all night, I was exhausted. I saw Lin Ze out, saying, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight at dawn,” Lin Ze yawned, then suddenly tensed. “No need to walk me out! Watch your door!”

I snapped to attention, quickly stepping back inside as the wind slammed the door shut. Close call… Time to sleep.

—• Fireworks Under the Starry Sky • End—