Chapter 20 – Your Scent

Jiang Ruo had a dream.

In it, the memory scroll buried deep within his mind unrolled before him, like the opening curtain revealing story after story.

First came a blurry image: a pair of white ballet shoes in a store window, a child’s pudgy hand reaching through the glass in silent yearning.

Next, an empty rehearsal room where he learned to stretch his shoulders, press his legs, arch his back. Sometimes he would fall with a thud, followed by a sharp intake of breath and then a foolish laugh, belatedly realized.

Then there were the streets, the school, and the rising tide of gossip. So many mocking or bewildered gazes. A woman who looked like his mother, weeping as she urged him to abandon ballet, suggesting folk dance instead — at least then he wouldn’t have to wear tights, at least he wouldn’t seem so “effeminate.”

Later, the woman remarried, and his new stepfather, with his bristling beard, always looked at him strangely. He was afraid and sought help from the woman, only to hear, “Just bear with it; we still need him to support us.”

After that, everything seemed to speed up, a subconscious avoidance that made him unwilling to recall even in his dreams.

Only fragments remained, images of filth: rags, blood, drugs, and hands reaching out to him — not to help, but to drag him down into the abyss.

He suddenly opened his eyes; it was still dark outside. Jiang Ruo didn’t sit up immediately, but stared at the ceiling, slowly regaining his composure.

So careful, yet discovered nonetheless.

A slightly cool hand touched his forehead, and Jiang Ruo involuntarily shivered, but fortunately, the hand quickly withdrew, and the person beside the bed moved away.

Jiang Ruo checked his own temperature; he didn’t seem to have a fever.

After a while, the person returned, and with a soft “clink,” the sound of a water cup being placed on the bedside table.

Seeing no way to avoid it, Jiang Ruo sighed inwardly. As he propped himself up and sat straight, he said, “I’m fine, it’s just been too long since I danced that piece; my stamina couldn’t keep up.”

Xi Yufeng hadn’t spoken the entire time, whether he’d heard or not.

Jiang Ruo was truly exhausted and had no interest in caring about what his patron thought. He got out of bed, walked to the living room sofa, picked up the script from the floor, and was about to return to the guest room.

Suddenly, he remembered that it was Xi Yufeng who had carried him to the master bedroom bed. His condition hadn’t been good at the time, and he might have smeared his tears and snot on Xi Yufeng’s pillow.

Jiang Ruo had to stop and turn around and was about to open his mouth when he saw Xi Yufeng pick up the laptop on the table.

Jiang Ruo nearly lunged forward again.

But this time, Xi Yufeng didn’t seem to have any intention of turning it on. Instead, he held it up as a sign. “It’s a video prepared by the publicity department, intended for a promotional push next month.”

Jiang Ruo was taken aback. When he realized that Xi Yufeng had merely been reviewing the promotional material, he felt a sudden awkwardness, as if he had nowhere to hide.

Even so, Jiang Ruo didn’t forget the most important thing. “Can we not use that video?” He didn’t ask where the video came from, but only asked, “If possible, can we not use it?”

The reason was something he couldn’t explain yet, and even if he wanted to, Xi Yufeng wouldn’t have been interested in listening. Therefore, Jiang Ruo phrased his request as a question and didn’t expect the other party to accept it immediately.

Unexpectedly, shortly after his words fell, Xi Yufeng agreed.

Without explaining why, he simply said, “Then we won’t use it.”

The scorching heat of summer was unbearable not only for humans but also for plants.

On the first day of the holiday, Jiang Ruo woke up early and moved the few potted flowers on the balcony inside the house.

When Xi Yufeng emerged from his wash-up, he watched Jiang Ruo bustling about and found it hard to connect the person before him with the one who had collapsed after dancing last night.

Breakfast was still sandwiches. Jiang Ruo was critical of the food he made himself, taking only a couple of bites before putting it down, slowly sipping his milk.

As he was about to finish, he heard Xi Yufeng ask, “Are you busy today?” Jiang Ruo paused, unsure if he was being addressed. “Me? Are you asking me?”

Xi Yufeng nodded. “Yes.”

“Not really, it’s a three-day holiday.” As he spoke, Jiang Ruo looked towards the balcony. “It’s so hot outside, I can only sleep at home.”

Xi Yufeng nodded and said nothing more.

By “home,” Jiang Ruo meant the rental apartment.

For the remaining two and a half days of the holiday, he planned to stay there. He needed to take care of the plants and thoroughly study the script to better understand his role. After finishing the costume drama, he would immediately join the film crew, and although his character didn’t have much screen time, it was his first big-screen appearance, and he couldn’t afford to be sloppy.

Here, he simply couldn’t focus, and with Xi Yufeng being so busy, he probably wouldn’t bother with him. Jiang Ruo slung his backpack over his shoulder and planned to leave quietly.

Just as he was changing his shoes, the door to the study opened from the inside.

Looking at Jiang Ruo standing at the door, Xi Yufeng asked, “Where are you going?”

“To the rental apartment, the plants there might not survive either.”

As he spoke, Jiang Ruo put on the mask hanging from one ear. There was a distance from here to the bus stop, and he didn’t want to return to the set looking like a piece of charcoal in two days.

Planning to find a supermarket along the way to buy a hat, Jiang Ruo’s hand was already on the doorknob when he heard Xi Yufeng say behind him, “Wait a moment, I’ll drive you there.”

It was the same business car, but this time driven personally by Xi Yufeng.

Jiang Ruo habitually climbed into the back seat, but as soon as he sat down, he suddenly realized something and hurriedly got out to switch to the passenger seat.

As Xi Yufeng started the car, he glanced at him. “Don’t you want to get some more sleep?”

Counting it all up, he’d only slept four hours last night, and the word “sleep” triggered a reflexive yawn in Jiang Ruo.

He suppressed it, and at that moment, Jiang Ruo was grateful he was wearing a mask. “No, I’m not tired.”

But the mask could hide his wide-open mouth, not the redness in his eyes. Jiang Ruo was completely unaware that his current appearance struck Xi Yufeng as if he was about to cry again.

He noticed Xi Yufeng staring at him for quite a while, seemingly confirming something.

Feeling uneasy under his gaze, Jiang Ruo tentatively asked, “How about I drive, and you rest in the backseat for a bit?”

At this, Xi Yufeng turned his gaze away, stepped on the accelerator, and then answered a different question. “Do you know how to drive?”

“Yes, I got my license during my freshman year. I’ve even acted as a driver.”

He said this merely to let Xi Yufeng know that he’d had his license for a while, that he was an experienced driver with four years under his belt.

It wasn’t clear how Xi Yufeng interpreted it, but after listening, he actually commented, “That’s impressive.”

The impressive Jiang Ruo got out at the narrow alley entrance in front of the old neighborhood. Taking a few steps forward, he heard footsteps behind him — the impressed Xi Yufeng who had praised him had also gotten out of the car.

“I can go up myself,” Jiang Ruo waved him off. “You should go back.”

Xi Yufeng still approached. “Aren’t you free?”

Jiang Ruo was puzzled. “Huh?”

“There are two tickets for a musical, for the afternoon show.”

“…What musical?”

Xi Yufeng pulled up the e-ticket on his phone and handed it over.

Jiang Ruo immediately saw the words “Fanghua Theater Troupe” below, thinking to himself that it was quite coincidental. “Is it an employee benefit from your company?”

Xi Yufeng nodded expressionlessly.

“Free?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Then let’s go.” Jiang Ruo looked up at the sky, forgetting all about his previous plans. “Anyway, I have nothing else to do.”

The old neighborhood didn’t have an elevator. Jiang Ruo didn’t let Xi Yufeng accompany him upstairs, climbing the six flights of stairs in quick strides. He watered the flowers on the balcony, moved them indoors, and was back downstairs in less than fifteen minutes.

They solved lunch outside, at a Cantonese-style tea restaurant.

Jiang Ruo couldn’t help but notice that most of the dishes served were meat-based, except for… wait, they were probably called char siu buns, not meat buns.

And there were sweet char siu buns, soft yet not mushy, sweet but not cloying, which Jiang Ruo liked very much, devouring three in one sitting.

In the theater that afternoon, he was still burping, and Jiang Ruo worriedly opened a weight-loss app, entering each item he had eaten to calculate the calories.

With about ten minutes until the show started, people kept entering, and the surroundings were noisy.

Jiang Ruo’s ears, however, could precisely pick up Xi Yufeng’s voice.

“So strict?” Xi Yufeng asked.

There was nothing wrong with discussing such matters, and Jiang Ruo said, “It was even stricter when I was in school, every day we had to weigh ourselves. Once, when I gained two liang (100g), the teacher punished me to run twenty laps around the track.”

Seeming to think this punishment was excessive, Xi Yufeng frowned. “Now you’re an actor, no one punishes you to run.”

“Actors should be more self-disciplined.” Jiang Ruo pinched his face through the mask. “Audiences want to see ethereal elegance, not bloated buns.”

Xi Yufeng chuckled softly.

There was nothing wrong with the musical itself. The original script was well-structured, the music beautiful, and the costumes and props carefully crafted. In comparison, the actors’ average performances didn’t drag down the show too much.

Throughout the performance, Jiang Ruo focused almost entirely on the dancing. Afterward, unlike the lingering enthusiasm of the other audience members, he felt somewhat disenchanted.

Because he noticed the male dancer making several mistakes, twice clearly not due to lack of stamina but rather lack of proficiency.

In other words — less practice, a major taboo in the dance industry. One minute on stage requires ten years of effort off-stage, not just idle talk.

If it were him dancing, such problems would never occur.

On the way back, the car played soothing instrumental music. Jiang Ruo rested his head against the car window, watching the rapidly receding urban night scene outside, and suddenly said, “That dance performance is called ‘Nameless.'”

Without specifying which dance, Xi Yufeng seemed to understand with a simple “Mm-hm.”

“It’s a dance I choreographed myself,” Jiang Ruo continued. “I named it ‘Nameless’ because it has no fixed form, it’s unrestrained, it can take on many shapes.”

Dance is a form of physical language, and language is a form of expression. Since it is expression, it is inseparable from changes in emotion.

“It helped me get accepted into the dance academy, that day it was colorful. Later, it became blue, red, occasionally gray. And then, it was dirtied, lost its color, so… I didn’t want to dance it anymore, nor did I want others to see its once beautiful appearance, afraid of comparisons, even more afraid of being questioned.”

Questioned why he gave up, why he forgot his original aspirations.

But Jiang Ruo didn’t say that aloud. He felt that this was enough; he didn’t need understanding or sympathy. He just wanted to tell Xi Yufeng, I’m not angry, and I don’t blame you.

Even if the other party had no intention of apologizing, just wanting to treat him a little better for no apparent reason.

Jiang Ruo guessed that Xi Yufeng understood, even though he listened quietly after that initial response, not uttering another word.

Naturally, they returned to the large apartment.

Taking a deep breath upon entering the house, Jiang Ruo felt a sense of relief, as if a matter had finally been resolved.

On the sultry summer night, he should jump into the swimming pool, not think about anything, and fiercely swim a few laps with his head submerged.

Doing exactly what he thought, Jiang Ruo dropped his backpack on the ground and dove headfirst into the water, becoming a happy fish in the world.

Holding his breath for over twenty seconds, when he surfaced, he found himself not far from the edge. Jiang Ruo saw Xi Yufeng sitting in a recliner, surprisingly holding not a cigarette, but a wine glass.

Jiang Ruo had seen such glasses on set before, thick-bottomed and wide-mouthed, apparently called Old Fashioned glasses, typically used for drinking whiskey on the rocks.

Ice water enthusiast Jiang Ruo licked his lips and called out, “Is it good?”

Xi Yufeng didn’t answer but stood up, walked to the edge of the pool, and squatted down.

Jiang Ruo, leaning against the side, cooperated by tilting his neck, allowing the glass rim to touch his lips as the icy liquid slid down his tongue and into his throat.

The initial smoothness was replaced by a sharp spiciness that rushed to his head, and Jiang Ruo even saw black spots for a moment.

He heard the person on the shore chuckle softly, asking, “Is it good?”

Jiang Ruo rested one hand on the edge of the pool and covered his mouth with the other, coughing and laughing at the same time.

He was soaked to the bone, his eyes filled with water, and he looked up at Xi Yufeng. “It’s good, because… it tastes like you.”

When he was fished out of the water and thrown onto the bed, Jiang Ruo belatedly felt dizzy.

But he didn’t dislike this feeling. People should experience the rush of strong liquor and the subsequent oblivion upon waking, never knowing what happened.

He lay on Xi Yufeng’s shoulder, his hands working unseen to unbutton Xi Yufeng’s shirt.

His movements weren’t swift, and his tone was slow and tipsy. “Actually, the twenty-two-year-old me isn’t inferior to the seventeen-year-old me… not at all.”

Unclear whether it was a matter of pride or some other sentiment, Jiang Ruo felt a determined need to refute Xi Yufeng’s words from yesterday.

This remark seemed to trigger something in the other party, and Jiang Ruo felt the arms around his waist tighten. Then his face was lifted, and a kiss followed, mingled with smoke and alcohol, as well as a chilly aura that made it hard to maintain clarity.

Suddenly curious about what Xi Yufeng was thinking when he watched him dance, even if it was crossing a boundary, a surplus of curiosity.

This time, Xi Yufeng satisfied him.

His thumb brushed over the corner of the eye that had once shed tears, moving downward to caress the slightly swollen lips. They gazed at each other in the darkness.

Corresponding to Jiang Ruo’s mention of its “once beautiful appearance,” Xi Yufeng’s voice was low and firm. “Very different.”

“Now, you’re even more beautiful.”