TOW 20

They slept in until noon the next day. Liang Xuan woke up first, got out of bed, and returned a moment later to ask, “Want breakfast?”

Xu Fei wasn’t fully awake. He rolled around under the blanket twice, poked his head out, and mumbled, “I want noodles.”

“I made congee,” Liang Xuan said.

Xu Fei immediately lost interest. He pulled the blanket over his head again. Liang Xuan didn’t press him, just closed the door and let him continue sleeping.

When Xu Fei woke up again, it was already three in the afternoon. His head felt heavy from oversleeping. He washed his face in the bathroom, then went downstairs. Liang Xuan was sitting on the couch reading a script.

“New movie?” Xu Fei asked while boiling some water in the kitchen.

“A sci-fi TV series for Alliance TV,” Liang Xuan replied. “Starts filming in June.”

“So you’re off the first half of the year?”

“Got a movie to promote.” Liang Xuan tossed the script aside and stood by the kitchen door, watching Xu Fei.

Xu Fei turned to glance at him. “Oh, that one, Lanterns Under the Eaves?”

That film had been hot during production last year. It was directed by Hu Husheng, one of the top-tier directors in the Alliance, well-known for his cultural exports to the Empire. Landing the lead role clearly marked another step up for Liang Xuan.

“Yeah,” Liang Xuan nodded but didn’t say more.

The kettle began to whistle. Steam slowly curled out of the spout. Xu Fei quickly unplugged it, poured himself a glass, and took a sip while noticing Liang Xuan watching him.

“What?” he asked.

Liang Xuan shrugged. “What are you doing next year?”

“The theater company has shows lined up in Pinghai, Shuncheng, and Jin Kui. We’ll be performing until April,” Xu Fei said. “Got a B-movie lined up for the second half.”

“Sounds busy.”

“Busy for nothing,” Xu Fei said. “Not like you, always with clear goals.”

Liang Xuan ignored the petty jab. He stayed quiet a while, watching Xu Fei finish his water, then suddenly said, “I’ve never seen you perform on stage.”

Xu Fei paused, replying instinctively, “Don’t come.”

The words had barely left his mouth when he noticed Liang Xuan frown. He awkwardly added, “If you come, no one will actually be watching the play.”

Liang Xuan didn’t push. He just looked at him quietly, long enough to make Xu Fei feel uneasy and turn away. Right then, his stomach betrayed him with a loud gurgle. His face flushed immediately.

Liang Xuan sighed and walked over. “Still want noodles?”

He pulled out a packet of thin noodles from the cabinet. Xu Fei hesitated, then said, “I want shrimp, veggie, and fried pork chop noodles.”

Liang Xuan’s hand paused midair.

Xu Fei tiptoed out of the kitchen.

Of course, Liang Xuan didn’t make him shrimp, veggie, and pork chop noodles. He just threw together a small pot of tomato and egg noodles. Xu Fei devoured it without complaint.

After eating, he insisted on washing the dishes.

“It’s not a big deal. I can handle this much,” he said, scrubbing the pot spotless with dish soap.

Liang Xuan leaned against the wall, watching him. “Not bad,” he said, then grabbed Xu Fei’s chin and kissed him.

Xu Fei wiped all the soap foam on Liang Xuan’s body.

“This sweater’s Burberry,” Liang Xuan said.

So Xu Fei knelt down to make it up to him.

And he made it up very seriously, very thoroughly, and very sincerely.

Every now and then he looked up at Liang Xuan, eyes shimmering with tears, as if truly repenting. Liang Xuan ran his fingers along Xu Fei’s face, painting heavily.

“Don’t mess around next time.”

Xu Fei nodded, lips still wrapped around his cock. Liang Xuan held the back of his head and thrust forward suddenly. Xu Fei choked, pulling back, then licked the corner of his mouth where a streak of white lingered.

That night, Xu Fei drove to the airport alone. While waiting in the terminal, Liang Xuan sent him a message.

“Do you want to come to my movie premiere?”

Xu Fei stared at the message in a daze. It wasn’t until the announcement rang through the speakers, “Passengers of flight FM9106 to Pinghai, please proceed to boarding. Families with infants and young children may now board…” , that he finally stood up, took a few steps forward, then stopped and typed a reply.

“Crash your red carpet? I’ll pass.”

Liang Xuan didn’t respond right away. Xu Fei boarded, sat down, and fastened his seatbelt when the flight attendant reminded him. Only then did the message arrive.

“Alright.”

Xu Fei turned off his phone, leaned back in his seat, and closed his eyes to rest.

—

In January, the theater troupe performed Full Counterattack again at Pioneer Theatre in Pinghai. The audience had grown even larger this time. A lot of them were Xu Fei’s fans, sending flowers and gift boxes backstage. Xu Fei was caught off guard by the attention. During the curtain call, he thanked the audience and joked, “I’ve received so many roses, but I actually prefer magnolias.” The crowd burst into laughter, and sure enough, more magnolias came his way after that.

“Not bad at all,” Fu Zichuan said, clearly envious. “Quite the fanbase you’ve got.”

Xu Fei plucked a magnolia and tucked it into Fu Zichuan’s shirt collar. “Don’t be jealous. This one’s from your brother.”

Fu Zichuan plucked the flower and threw it at him.

Liang Xuan, however, didn’t show up. Or maybe he did, but Xu Fei wouldn’t have known either way. Sometimes, while performing, he’d glance down into the audience. His eyes would drift toward the dimly lit corners where the spotlight never reached. But Liang Xuan wasn’t there. Xu Fei didn’t know if he felt relieved or just a disappointment he refused to admit.

By February, the promotional campaign for Lanterns Under the Eaves was raining down on the public from every direction. Xu’s mother had already become a full-on fan.

“Can you get me Liang Xuan’s autograph?” she asked, pulling out a Lanterns Under The Eaves movie poster from somewhere.

Xu Fei groaned in despair. “Where am I supposed to find him for you?”

His mother was unimpressed by her son’s refusal to resist.

“Just call him. He came to see you last year, didn’t he?”

Xu Fei was stunned. “How do you even know that?”

His mom scoffed like he was hopeless. “You’re the only one I know who still doesn’t have a Weibo account, son.”

Xu Fei had no comeback. He took the poster home and stared at it for a long time, trying to figure out how to ask Liang Xuan for the signature. Nothing came to mind. Then the theater group had to leave for a tour in Shuncheng, and Xu Fei eventually forgot about it.

When he returned to Pinghai in early March, the cinema next to his residential complex had already set up a massive display for Lanterns Under the Eaves. Liang Xuan stood behind a half-open door, wearing a traditional Chinese robe and a pair of round glasses. Two bright red lanterns hung from the eaves above him. Long tassels dangled and swayed as if floating gently in the air.

A few schoolgirls were taking selfies in front of the display. Xu Fei didn’t linger and headed home. On the way, the security guard at the gate stopped him.

“You’ve got a delivery,” the guard said, handing him an EMS envelope.

Xu Fei took it home, still unsure what it was. He opened the envelope and pulled out an invitation, printed on thick paper with gold foil detailing.

“Mr. Xu Fei, you are cordially invited to attend the red carpet premiere of Lanterns Under the Eaves.”

Xu Fei froze for a moment. Then he noticed there was another sheet of paper inside. He pulled it out.

It was Liang Xuan’s handwriting.

“In case you change your mind.”

Change his mind. Change about what?
Xu Fei shook his head and laughed. He sat down, staring at the note for a while. Finally, he rubbed his forehead and let out a soft sigh.

He didn’t attend the premiere. The theater company happened to have a show in Jinkui that day, and of course he couldn’t be absent. Still, after thinking it over, he decided to send Liang Xuan a message. He didn’t want to come across as too cold.

“We’ve got rehearsals in Jinkui. I won’t make it to the premiere. Sorry,” he wrote.

It took over two hours for Liang Xuan to reply, probably because he was caught up in the chaos of the event.

“No worries.”

Fu Zichuan was in the bathroom, singing horribly in the shower, loud enough to be heard over the running water. Xu Fei lay back on the bed, lifted his phone in front of his face, hesitated for a long time, then finally typed another message.

“My mom is obsessed with you. She even bought your movie poster and asked me to get your autograph.”

Two minutes later, his phone dinged.

“That’s easy. How do I sign it?”

“Should I mail you the poster?” Xu Fei asked.

Liang Xuan replied with a sweating emoji. “I’ve got tons of posters here. I’ll sign one and give it to you.”

“Uh, that works too.” Xu Fei typed back. “How are you giving it to me?”

This time, Liang Xuan didn’t respond right away. It took so long that Fu Zichuan came out of the bathroom, dripping wet and telling Xu Fei to go shower. By the time Xu Fei was done and had crawled back into bed, the green notification light on his phone was blinking.

Liang Xuan had replied. “I’ll come to Jinkui.”

Xu Fei’s heart gave a heavy jolt.

His fingers hovered above the screen for a long time before he typed back, “Here for promo?”

“Yeah,” Liang Xuan said. “See you then.”

Xu Fei tossed the phone aside. Fu Zichuan, sitting on the other bed, noticed the shift in his expression.

“What happened?” he asked.

Xu Fei didn’t answer. He just rolled himself tightly in the blanket like a spring roll about to be dropped in oil.

The next morning, Liang Xuan sent another message.

“I’ll arrive the morning after tomorrow.”

But Xu Fei didn’t notice Liang Xuan’s grand arrival at all. He was on stage, bathed in heat and light. It was the final scene. His character was tearing through drawers at home, desperately looking for the money he had just swindled, but found nothing. In the nightstand, all he found was a note.

“Goodbye, Bo An,” he read out, one word at a time. “We’ll help you spend that dirty money.”

He froze. The note crumpled under his grip, soaked with sweat, fingertips pressing deep into his palm.

“Those bitches…” he muttered. Then suddenly shouted, “Those bitches!”

He flew into a manic rage, tearing the note to shreds and flipping the nightstand over with a crash.

“Those bitches!”

From all around, soft, flirtatious female voices rang out..

“Bo An, we’re counting on you.”

“Bo An, that plan was brilliant.”

“Bo An, you’re the only one we can trust…”

Xu Fei collapsed onto the floor, mumbling again, softer this time.

“Those bitches…”

His voice grew quieter and quieter until it vanished completely. The lights dimmed, leaving only his lone figure slumped at center stage.

Thunderous applause erupted from the audience.

“Xu Fei!” they shouted. “Xu Fei!”

The curtain slowly closed. Xu Fei wiped his face and got up from the floor. The props team rushed in to clear the set. He stepped back a few paces and lined up with Fu Zichuan and the others. When the curtain rose again, they all stepped out together for the curtain call.

A dozen girls rushed to the front, half-kneeling to take photos. Xu Fei smiled at them.

When he got backstage, the place was unusually quiet. A few staff moved through the hallway quickly, barely saying a word. Confused, Xu Fei opened the door to his dressing room and saw Liang Xuan sitting on the sofa, head lowered, studying a bouquet of white magnolias.

Xu Fei paused at the door. Liang Xuan looked up.

“Finished the curtain call?”

Xu Fei swallowed. After a second, he closed the door behind him.

“You really know how to appear out of nowhere,” he said.

Liang Xuan smiled and pulled a rolled-up poster from his bag. He unrolled it and held it out. “For your mom.”

It was a side profile of him bathed in the sunset. At the bottom corner, a tiny, flamboyant “Liang Xuan” was scrawled in ink, barely legible.

Still, Xu Fei said, “Thanks.”

He carefully took the poster and set it aside. Then he sat down in front of the mirror, wiped off his makeup, splashed water on his face, and started changing clothes. The stage lights had left him soaked in sweat. His tank top clung to his back, damp and sticky. He could only towel off quickly and pull on a clean T-shirt.

“How long are you staying in Jinkui?” he asked as he bent down to change pants.

Liang Xuan’s eyes lingered for a moment on Xu Fei’s bare thighs, then he quickly looked away.

“Two days.”

“Nice,” Xu Fei said. “Take the chance to enjoy yourself. The scenery here’s great.”

He sat on the floor to put on his shoes. The room fell into a short silence. Neither of them had anything to say. Xu Fei bent his head, carefully tying his laces, though his ears were filled with the sound of his own heartbeat. Steady and loud, like drums.

He braced his hand against the floor and stood up.

“I’m hungry,” he said, rubbing his stomach and looking at Liang Xuan. “Wanna grab dinner?”