Chapter 48. The Fall of Icarus Part 5

“I’m going to die by your hands someday…”

Lu Zhengming lay exhausted and limp on the freshly changed bedsheets. Yin Yan was still draped over him, laughing silently. Part of him remained buried inside Lu Zhengming, and his tightening abs twitched with each breathless chuckle.

“Don’t move… you said you were done…”

“I’m not moving.” Yin Yan chuckled and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, where a small red mark bloomed from his mouth.

Lu Zhengming turned his head slightly and glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

“Seriously. One day you’re going to fuck me to death and I won’t even know how I died.”

“That’s how you see me?”

“You’re too complicated. At first, I thought you were… useless. Ugh—no, you’re not, you’re the opposite, you’re too good, stop proving it already…” Lu Zhengming struggled for a moment, but couldn’t break free from Yin Yan’s grip. He gave up and flopped onto the bed. “No, I’m not joking. I actually thought you were someone without any desires.”

“Really?”

“Completely detached. Pure, even.”

Yin Yan let out a laugh.

“Then you really misunderstood me.”

Lu Zhengming did not laugh with him.

“When you helped me revise my paintings, you were focused. You never acted like you were showing off, never tried to prove you were better than me, and you didn’t hold back or brush me off. That first impression made me think you were genuinely kind. Stop laughing. Or pull out if you’re going to laugh.”

“Alright. Keep going.”

“Later you just stopped talking to me. Every time I passed your class and saw you teaching, it felt like… you were uptight.”

“Uptight? Compared to you?”

Yin Yan gave a playful thrust, and Lu Zhengming grumbled and clamped down to keep him from moving again.

“So when I saw how filthy you could get, how wild you could be, I couldn’t believe it… Yin Yan, where does all that desire come from?”

Yin Yan let out a sigh. There was still a curve to his lips, but the smile in his eyes had disappeared.

“When someone’s been starved long enough, they start craving everything they can get their hands on.”

“Then what is it you really want? Money? Fame? Power?”

Yin Yan fell silent. After a long pause, his breathing grew heavier. Inside Lu Zhengming, he had gone hard again.

“I want you.”

“Come on, I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” Yin Yan gripped his shoulders and started thrusting with force. “I want you.”

Lu Zhengming still wanted to ask more, but Yin Yan gave no further answers. His body gave in before his thoughts could catch up.

In the days that followed, he kept replaying that line in his head. Starved.

He knew Yin Yan had been through some dark things. But he had never pressed for details. That would have meant peeling back old scars. Yin Yan was the type to grow thick layers over his wounds. If the scar was that heavy, the injury beneath it had to be deep. And tearing it open again would hurt.

Lu Zhengming could not bring himself to do it.

What he never understood was why Yin Yan pushed himself with such desperate urgency. With his talent and ability, if he slowed down, he could go much further and much more steadily. Lu Zhengming had always believed that when it came to art, Yin Yan had more potential than he did. Yin Yan could reach places that were out of his own grasp. His own work came from a place of passion. If that passion ever faded, he might not have the will to paint anymore.

Even though he understood why Yin Yan made the choices he did, deep down, he could not agree with them. Setting aside their opposing values, he also did not believe Yin Yan’s plan would succeed. Reaching the top of the system was not impossible, but Yin Yan’s methods were reckless. If he failed, the fall would be devastating.

Lu Zhengming’s decision not to get involved came down to personality, not ignorance. But when the end arrived, neither of them could claim to have seen it coming.

The sinner Daedalus, seeking to escape from the island of Crete, gathered feathers and secured them with string and wax to craft a pair of wings. His son Icarus watched beside him, and Daedalus made him a pair as well. Before they took flight, he gave his son a warning: do not fly too low, or the sea will dampen the feathers, and do not fly too high, or the sun will melt the wax, and you will fall into the ocean.

Icarus nodded and agreed. They fitted on their wings and soared into the sky together. The smooth start made Icarus forget about danger. He could not resist flying higher and higher until the sun melted his wings. The unfortunate young man fell straight into the sea.

By the time Daedalus realized something had gone wrong, the waves had already washed his son’s body onto the shore.

In the final week of August, the National Art Exhibition released its list of award winners.

Yin Yan, along with Zhong Jingjing, received an Excellence Award, a fourth-tier prize beneath the gold, silver, and bronze. For Zhong Jingjing, it was a pleasant surprise. For Yin Yan, it was a direct and unvarnished humiliation.

As soon as Lu Zhengming saw the news, he called Yin Yan. After several unanswered attempts, he grabbed his keys and rushed straight to his apartment. His chest felt tight as he drove, and the few seconds it took to ride the elevator felt unbearably long. He pushed into the hallway before the elevator doors had fully opened, fumbling in his pocket for the spare key to Yin Yan’s apartment as he walked.

He opened the door. The apartment was pitch black, as if no one had come home.

The motion sensor light in the hallway blinked out. He coughed to trigger it again. Light spilled across the entrance floor. The normally spotless surface bore faint smudges of dust in the shape of shoeprints.

Lu Zhengming shut the door and turned on the light in the living room. The prints continued in the direction of the studio, growing lighter as they went. He instinctively softened his steps as he followed them. The door to the studio was ajar. Light from the living room reached inside, illuminating the chair in front of the easel, where someone sat quietly.

“Yin Yan. I’m here.”

Lu Zhengming knocked lightly, then walked over and crouched beside him.

Yin Yan was seated with his back to the light. His face was lost in shadow. If not for the occasional blink of his eyes, he could have been mistaken for a lifeless wax statue. Lu Zhengming reached out and held his hand. It was cold and slightly stiff, like it had not moved for a very long time. He did not know what to say. Instead, he simply held Yin Yan’s hand, slowly warming it with his own.

He gently rubbed Yin Yan’s waist.

“Come on. Let’s get you moving.”

Yin Yan let him guide him up. When they both stood, they staggered. Lu Zhengming’s legs had gone numb from crouching, and Yin Yan’s had stiffened from sitting too long. One slumped down, the other fought gravity. They ended up flailing for a moment like a pair of clumsy dancers before finally finding balance and standing upright.

Lu Zhengming embraced him, pressing his face to his, trying to warm him with his own skin. The air in the apartment had no trace of food or smoke. He guessed Yin Yan had skipped dinner.

“Your stomach must be killing you. I’ll make you something to eat.”

He regretted it as soon as he said it, realizing he barely knew how to cook anything beyond instant noodles. Still, he led Yin Yan to the sofa in the living room so he could keep an eye on him. Yin Yan had almost no strength left to resist. He let himself be moved like a doll, slumping back against the cushions, worn out.

Lu Zhengming feel safe enough to turn and open the fridge. Inside, there was nothing but bottles of condiments.

He had never seen Yin Yan’s fridge so empty. Usually, whenever he stayed over, it was always stocked with fresh food.

The bare fridge made it clear that Yin Yan had not eaten at home for a long time.

Lu Zhengming rummaged through the cupboard for a while and finally found a packet of dried noodles. As he boiled water, he tried to recall how Yin Yan had once made noodles for him. The broth had been light, but filled with ingredients. He looked at the plain noodles in his hand and decided they were too bland to be edible. He turned off the stove.

“I’ll go downstairs and get something better.”

Yin Yan gave no response. Lu Zhengming didn’t think much of it. He rushed out and headed to the fresh food store just outside the complex. He picked up some vegetables and eggs, then, passing by the freezer section, grabbed several large bags of frozen dumplings.

When he returned, the living room was empty.

His heart clenched. He dropped the shopping bags and rushed around the apartment. He found Yin Yan lying fully clothed on the bed, tucked under a blanket as if asleep. Only then did he exhale, the wave of fear retreating just enough for him to lean against the doorway and catch his breath.

Once he had calmed down, he returned to the front door, unpacked the groceries, and began cooking.

The noodles did not come out well. He had added too many toppings, and the noodles had been overcooked. The egg he had tried to poach had stuck to the bottom of the pot and fallen apart into scraps. Though it looked messy, at least the flavor wasn’t terrible. He was thankful to find some soup base in the fridge.

Lu Zhengming carried the bowl carefully to the bedroom and set it on the nightstand. He gently nudged Yin Yan awake. The man opened his eyes immediately, as if he had never been sleeping.

“If you can’t eat anything, at least drink a little broth. Don’t go to sleep on an empty stomach.”

Lu Zhengming slipped a pillow behind his back and helped him sit up. Yin Yan looked at the bowl of noodles, then at Lu Zhengming, and finally spoke his first words of the entire evening.

“Thank you.”

He seemed to be straining to keep his expression neutral. Lu Zhengming could almost see the mask on his face beginning to crack under the weight of his emotions. Pretending not to notice, he scooped a spoonful of broth, blew on it lightly, and brought it to Yin Yan’s lips.

“Try it. I think the seasoning’s alright.”

Yin Yan stared at the spoon for a long time before finally touching it with his lips.

Lu Zhengming thought he was worried about the temperature and explained gently.

“It’s not too hot. Try it.”

Yin Yan slowly returned to normal and shook his head.

“I’ll do it myself.”

He picked up the bowl, drank the soup, and ate the sorry-looking poached egg. When he finished, he handed the bowl back.

“Thank you.”

“What are you thanking me for? It’s the least I could do…”

Lu Zhengming pulled out a tissue to wipe his mouth, then hesitated. It felt wrong to treat a grown man like a child. He placed the tissue in Yin Yan’s hand instead. As their fingers touched, he noticed Yin Yan’s hand was much warmer now than it had been earlier. There was finally a trace of life in him.

Yin Yan gave his hand a gentle squeeze, then got up to wash up. When he returned, he was wearing a bathrobe, the scent of clean skin clinging to him. Lu Zhengming inhaled it and suddenly wanted to shower too, but Yin Yan stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Stay like this.”

Lu Zhengming nodded, took off his clothes, and slipped under the blanket.

His chest radiated heat. Pressed against Yin Yan’s cooler back, he gradually warmed him until Yin Yan’s breathing turned slow and even.

Lu Zhengming tucked the blanket around him and quietly got out of bed.

He threw on some clothes, took his phone, and locked himself in the studio. Then he dialed Liu Leshan’s number.

“Yin Yan got the Excellence Award? How should I know why? I wasn’t on the jury… Zhengming, calm down. If you’ve got something to say, say it properly… What do you mean by that? If I had any influence, don’t you think I’d have gotten myself an award first? Besides, what’s my relationship with Yin Yan? Why would I want to sabotage him? That mahjong game with Dean Ma wasn’t a secret… Look, I’m old. At most, I’ll retire as department head. He’s still young. If he has a chance to move up, why would I block him? Yes, I agree. It doesn’t make sense. Especially with Dean Ma. I think something’s off too… Don’t worry. I’ll try to find a chance to ask around for you…”

Liu Leshan rambled for ages without saying anything useful. Lu Zhengming ended the call in frustration and lit a cigarette to calm himself down.

He sat for a while in Yin Yan’s chair. In front of him stood the artist’s easel, one Yin Yan had used for many years. Yet it still looked almost new, barely chipped, and any stray paint had been carefully wiped clean.

Lu Zhengming reached out to touch it. The wood was warm and smooth, and it reminded him of Yin Yan’s skin. His fingertips tingled. A faint spark of desire climbed up along his hand. Before it could reach his palm, he clenched his fist and crushed it.

---

Ma Pingchuan’s office was even more spartan than the one shared by the oil painting department. Aside from a single potted plant on the windowsill, there was no decoration at all. His office supplies were the standard model issued by the academy, half-worn and entirely unremarkable.

When Lu Zhengming walked in, Ma Pingchuan was carving a seal at his desk. A bamboo tray held an elegant set of engraving knives and several unpolished Shoushan stone blanks, each with its own distinct grain. Lu Zhengming only recognized one type, Tianhuang, which glowed a bright yellow. As for all the obscure mountain pit and water pit varieties, he had never cared to learn the difference.

Ma Pingchuan continued carving for a while before setting the knife down. He used a soft wool brush to clean the seal’s surface, pressed it into a pad of vermilion ink, and stamped it onto a sheet of xuan paper under the tray.

Lu Zhengming got up and leaned in. The seal’s intaglio characters were carved in small seal script: “A Smooth Plain.”

He wracked his brain for a polished compliment but ended up saying the truth.

“I don’t know much about seal carving, but the characters are quite beautiful.”

Ma Pingchuan snorted. “It’s actually not very good. Too many distractions in recent years. I’ve lost my edge.”

Lu Zhengming sat back down with a polite smile. He was still figuring out how to bring up Yin Yan when Ma Pingchuan cut straight to the point.

“You’re still working on that exhibition with Yao Shunyu, right? Something gone wrong?”

“It’s going well, no real trouble. It’s just… there’s something bothering me, and I hoped you might help me understand.”

To his surprise, Ma Pingchuan went straight in.

“Yin Yan?”

Lu Zhengming paused, staring at his face.

“You already know?”

“What do I know? I know everything I need to. You and Yin Yan are close. You come running to me from Yao Shunyu’s place at a time like this. What else could it be about? No need to waste time. I’m the one who did it.”

Lu Zhengming had already suspected as much ever since Yin Yan had failed to place even third. Hearing it confirmed did not surprise him.

“Did he do something wrong?”

“Dai Wangyun came to Pingyuan.”

Lu Zhengming nodded. “Yes. Yin Yan and I met him at the museum.”

“Do you know why he came?”

“He said the former Dean Ma had mentioned the Pingyuan School exhibition…”

Ma Pingchuan stared hard at him.

“The old man called me. Said Dai Wangyun had asked him to look after a young artist named Zhong Jingjing. I looked into that assistant lecturer. You want to guess what I found?”

Lu Zhengming took a long breath. This was exactly what he had feared.

Ma Pingchuan didn’t wait for a reply.

“Dai Wangyun came for two reasons. One, to show support. Two, to evaluate Yin Yan. At first, I didn’t get it. Why would he bring up Yin Yan out of nowhere? Why ask whether he’s married? Then the old man brought up Zhong Jingjing, and it started to make sense.”

“That kid is always hanging around Yin Yan’s classroom. Everyone in your department knows it. But what could a vice director at the academy possibly have to do with an assistant in the oil painting department? I asked some of the senior faculty and finally got a little bit of the backstory. Turns out, back in the day, he had a thing with Zhong Xiaoqing. This Yin Yan, looks like he’s about to walk the same path Dai Wangyun once walked.”

He let out a cold laugh.

“I don’t care what goes on under someone’s desk. But if someone reaches for what’s on mine, they’d better be ready to be swept off entirely.”

With Ma Pingchuan laying everything bare, Lu Zhengming no longer felt tense. At this point, there was nothing to do but brace himself and deal with the aftermath, which was exactly why he had come. He laced his fingers together, thought for a moment, then looked up at Ma Pingchuan.

“So, that’s the response you gave him?”

“You have a problem with it?”

“I don’t. He was trying to be too clever for his own good.”

Ma Pingchuan frowned. “Weren’t you here to plead on his behalf?”

Lu Zhengming shook his head. “The list is already public. Coming to you won’t change anything. I just wanted to confirm, does it end here?”

Yin Yan clearly would not get into the academy or become vice dean with nothing more than an Honorable Mention. By blocking him from getting a higher award, Ma Pingchuan had already exacted his revenge. If he stopped here, then Yin Yan could still use the prize to apply for a professorship. But if Ma Pingchuan decided to keep pressing the issue, the next few years would be difficult for Yin Yan. Even so, as long as he weathered Ma Pingchuan’s tenure, he could still return to the path he had planned. In five years, if he made it into the National Exhibition again, whether or not he won a prize, having three entries alone would qualify him for promotion. By then, though, he would be no different from anyone else grinding out qualifications year by year.

No one could change the situation for Yin Yan, and Lu Zhengming had no intention of making a useless effort. His reason for coming was simple: to secure a path forward. If Ma Pingchuan still bore a grudge, he could persuade Yin Yan to consider other options, or pursue a career as an independent artist.

But Ma Pingchuan’s reply shattered all of his calculations.

“It’s not over.”

Lu Zhengming’s jaw tensed. “Forgive me for saying so, but you may not even be appointed as dean.”

“I will be.”

“You sound awfully confident.”

Ma Pingchuan smiled. “Because I have your help.”

Lu Zhengming smiled too. “You must be joking.”

Ma Pingchuan put away his smile, his eyes sharp. “Three years ago, didn’t one of his graduate students die?”

Lu Zhengming’s expression froze. “That case is already closed.”

“Closed cases can be reopened. That student’s parents never accepted the official explanation. They’ve come here several times. I was the one who kept them quiet. You can ask Yin Yan if you don’t believe me.”

Lu Zhengming finally understood why Yin Yan had remained at Ma Pingchuan’s side all these years, but it was already too late.

Ma Pingchuan added, “I still have a few things with me. If I send them to the student’s parents, the story will come back around.”

“Yan Yan’s death was my fault.”

Ma Pingchuan waved dismissively. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is that she was Yin Yan’s student.”

Lu Zhengming gripped the armrest of the sofa, the veins on the back of his hand bulging. “Everyone there can testify that I was the one who said those things that day.”

“Did she kill herself on the spot? Who knows what happened afterward. If Yin Yan could make a move on Zhong Jingjing, how can we be sure he never had thoughts about his students? I saw the photos. That girl had a delicate, pretty face.”

“Impossible.”

Lu Zhengming sprang to his feet and walked to Ma Pingchuan’s desk, but the moment he met his taunting gaze, all his anger was swallowed back down.

“He’s not that kind of person.”

“Sit down, sit down,” Ma Pingchuan said, pulling a white-wrapped pack of cigarettes from the drawer. “Try this. Zimbabwean, special reserve. Every leaf hand-selected.”

Lu Zhengming did not take one. He returned to his seat and adopted the tone of someone begging for a favor. “Whether he’s that kind of person or not, only you can decide.”

“Now that’s finally something worth saying.” Ma Pingchuan took out a cigarette, held it under his nose with a sigh, and lit it. “Rich, sweet aroma. Really something…”

Lu Zhengming sat completely still while smoke curled into his face, thick and fragrant. He found it nauseating.

Ma Pingchuan exhaled and said, “But you’re wrong. I’m not the one who decides what kind of person he is. You are.”

“What do you want me to do?”

Ma Pingchuan gave him a disdainful glance. “Don’t pretend you don’t know.”

Lu Zhengming looked confused and was just about to ask when a knock came at the door, cutting their conversation short.

The centerpiece exhibition curated by Yao Shunyu was about to be installed. Everyone’s works had already arrived at the gallery, except Lu Zhengming’s. His glass paintings required special packing, and even though it was a local delivery, the transport process was still complicated.

In fact, his works had already been packed days ago. Some had even returned from Beijing with their seals untouched, just waiting for Yao Shunyu’s people to come pick them up. But Lu Zhengming had not called him. Yao Shunyu had urged him several times, and finally lost patience, showing up in person with a driver to collect the paintings.

While directing the workers and driver, Yao Shunyu enthusiastically described the exhibition’s layout.

“Everything’s just waiting on you. This is going to be a huge event.”

He did not give Lu Zhengming a chance to respond, as though afraid he might back out, and kept the air filled with chatter.

Unable to interrupt, Lu Zhengming listened in silence, all the while thinking of how to refuse at the last possible second. Box after box was loaded into the truck, and just as the final crate passed out the door, Yao Shunyu took a phone call. He waved at Lu Zhengming, signaling for the workers to head straight to the venue once they finished, then got into his car.

The workers and driver quickly finished up, closed the back of the cargo truck, gave Lu Zhengming a quick goodbye, and drove off.

With no other choice, Lu Zhengming got into his own car and followed them toward the art district.

These past few days, Yin Yan had seemed unwell. He had been groggy, quiet, and barely eating. Lu Zhengming often saw him taking pills, though he never found out what they were. Whenever he pressed for an answer, Yin Yan would only say, “It’ll pass in a few days.”

The thought of Yin Yan gulping down medication at home filled Lu Zhengming with unease. Traffic in the city center was a nightmare. The cargo truck was stuck at the intersection ahead, and his SUV was boxed in between several taxis, unable to move.

His phone began to ring again. The ringtone wasn’t the special one he had set for Yin Yan, and he wasn’t in the mood to answer. Outside, horns blared in a relentless chorus. Inside, the ringtone continued. He could not take it anymore. He finally pulled out his phone, ready to curse out whoever it was.

It was Ma Pingchuan.

He cursed at the incoming call screen but answered in a normal voice.

“Have you made up your mind? After today, that story might just resurface. I’ve heard the internet can be a powerful thing these days…”

Lu Zhengming hung up.

Traffic officers were directing cars one by one through the intersection. The line started to move. After twenty minutes, Lu Zhengming finally hit a clear stretch of road. He began passing the cars ahead of him. The cargo truck came closer and closer, with nothing left in between them.

The truck’s metal siding glared white in the sunlight. Lu Zhengming took several deep breaths, shifted gears, and floored the gas.