Chapter 116: The Band

The camera is shaking violently.

On a snowy night in late December, solemnity and liveliness descend upon the campus in equal measure. A young man glances at the lens; a down jacket hood and a black scarf cover most of his face, but his bright eyes hold the viewer’s attention firmly.

This small path leading to the T-University Arts Building is somewhat remote, the streetlights are sparse, and snow is still whistling down. The brightest thing in the frame is a small stud earring peeking out from under the oversized hood.

Jian Zixing pulls his mouth free from the scarf, exhaling two puffs of white mist. “I was only dragged here by Douzi to help hold his phone. I’m not responsible for interacting with the comments.”

As he speaks, he taps his finger, switching the camera to the rear view. The image captures the distant buildings.

• T-U is so beautiful on a snowy night. Making a wish for next year’s Gaokao!
• I’m late, why did Douzi turn into a quiet ‘little puppy’ type?
• A friend is subbing the stream. Wait, is that a friend or a senior?
• Both. I think he flashed by in a VLOG back in August.
• Just got back from ‘archaeology’ (digging through old videos); another handsome guy in the VLOG called his name, sounds like it starts with ‘Pei’.

“Not Pei, it’s Jian.” Jian Zixing is speechless. He switches the camera back to the front, confronting millions of Dou-fans across the screen. “My name is Jian Zixing.”

• Aww okay, handsome guy, remembered!
• Hiss, strange. I listened several times, that guy really called you ‘Pei-something’.

“You heard wrong.” Jian Zixing pauses, then says coldly, “That person’s mouth is broken. His pronunciation is unclear.”

• Huh? Broken mouth? Is it that serious?
• What should we do then…

“Just plug it up,” Jian Zixing says flatly.

• ?????
• Dying of laughter.
• Starry-boy, can we call you that? Where are you taking us?
• Did Douzi prepare a surprise for us?
• The person above must be a fake fan. Since when does Douzi do nice things?
• Probably just filler for his hours. He owes way too much this month…
• Last stream was the beginning of the month. He’s been so busy, he’s gotten heart-wrenchingly thin.

Jian Zixing enters the building. The first floor of the Arts Building is dark and empty. The heavy doors of the concert hall are left ajar, a sliver of light leaking through.

“This is what Douzi said word-for-word.” Jian Zixing walks toward the light, reciting without emotion: “This year hasn’t been easy for anyone, guys. Please listen to a T-University New Year’s Eve performance. Together—”

His footsteps stop before the heavy doors. The camera peers through the crack; in the darkness, the audience seats are packed with people.

Jian Zixing gives a low chuckle and pushes the door wide—

“Together, let’s travel from the old year into the new.”

The brilliant white light of the stage instantly illuminates the world. The camera overexposes in the glare. Before it can refocus, the bullet comments are already a tidal wave of screams.

In the center of the white-lit stage are five high stools and four slender figures.

“Let me introduce everyone on Douzi’s behalf.

Back row, far left, drums: Senior He Xiu.”

Right on cue, He Xiu sends out a crisp drum roll, a remote greeting.

• Ah crap, it’s the white-shirt senior who appears all the time!
• Wait, the Senior plays drums? So cool!
• Rolling up sleeves to play drums, I’m literally losing it!

Jian Zixing shifts the camera. “Guitar one, Zhong Chen.”

As he speaks, his gaze moves from the screen to a certain someone sitting on a high stool under the light with an electric guitar. He curls his lips slightly. “The one with the broken mouth. Nickname… Lottery.”

• Holy crap stop the introductions, everywhere I look is f*cking handsome.
• I’ve started picking favorites…
• Honestly, me too…
• My steady Dou-heart is wavering…
• No no no, I’m taking Lan-zai home forever.
• What does ‘Lottery’ mean? Did he win the lottery?

“Yes,” Jian Zixing says in a low, smiling voice. “I won it too.”

He returns his gaze to the screen. Zhong Chen had stolen and worn his jeans today; the light blue looked exceptionally soft in the winter. He exhales and moves the camera further to the right.

“Digital Piano—no introduction needed, right? The one you want to see most.”

As the words fall, Dou Sheng, sitting behind the piano, nonchalantly raises an eyebrow and meets the camera’s gaze.

• DOUZI!!!!!
• MY DOU!! 55555
• It has to be my Dou!!
• Ahhh Douzi good evening, even though I know you can’t see the chat 5555

The stage is far from the back door, and the phone Jian Zixing is holding is submerged in darkness. Yet, Dou Sheng’s gaze naturally locks onto that inconspicuous lens. He smiles, light filling his eyes and brows. His slender fingers bring a string of crisp notes from the keys as he mouths a greeting: Good evening. – Holy crap can he see the comments?

• Aaaah what’s happening, he’s suddenly so charming.
• You dog!!! Missed you 5555
• Take this! My thunder-spin-mega-hug!
• Honest question, is his piano level okay?
• Same question, starting to worry… this is the T-U New Year Gala.
• I don’t think you need to worry. Lan-zai definitely ‘trained’ him well, cough.

Dou Sheng stares at the camera for a moment before looking down to flip his sheet music, the smile on his lips brightening. He then looks up and casually sweeps his gaze over the empty seat in the front row.

The band has five seats; one in the front is empty.

Jian Zixing moves the camera to the front row. “Front row, left, lead vocals and bass. Ye Si.”

It’s a boy in a red hoodie. Even with a baseball cap, he can’t hide his flamboyant and arrogant posture. He sits on the high stool with the bass, legs crossed, raising his eyebrows defiantly at the audience.

A wave of good-natured boos rises from the crowd. Someone shouts: “How did a strange thing sneak in here?”

“You dare crash T-U alone?”

“Can the P-University Medical School not hold their own gala?”

Ye Si raises an eyebrow, the bass letting out a few arrogant heavy notes.

“My school is full of talent. I only came here because I couldn’t get a spot back home. If you’re so tough, why don’t you pick one of yours to come wander over to our side?”

The crowd erupts in laughter. Jian Zixing explains to the camera: “He’s from the school next door (P-University), here to play at our gala.”

• Next door? Isn’t that P-U?
• Ye Si has shown his face many times in old videos. He’s a med student.
• That aura doesn’t look like a doctor at all, LOL.
• Starting to worry about his patients’ blood pressure.
• Hahaha don’t be silly.
• Seriously, my cousin is his junior… word is he’s a literal ‘Great God’.
• How so?
• Put him in a white coat and he becomes a different person. He dominates the whole room.
• If you’d heard P-U Medical School’s recruitment speech this year, you wouldn’t fail to recognize this Great God…
• The legendary face of the Medical School.

Ye Si trades jabs with the audience for a few rounds, then pulls the microphone closer. “Don’t be ungrateful, your Architecture Department invited me here.”

He looks back and raises an eyebrow at He Xiu.

The entire concert hall explodes in teasing. Before the chat can figure it out, the boy behind the drums presses his palms together in a prayer gesture toward the audience, making the teasing even louder.

The lights suddenly go out.

In the darkness, a blurred figure walks onto the stage, seemingly holding a guitar with an odd shape. The person sits in the empty seat next to Ye Si, holding the “guitar” across his lap. He pulls the mic closer: “Hello everyone, Riverside Band, first performance.”

• AAAAAAAAH it’s Lan-zai!!
• Holy crap, that’s Lan-zai’s voice.
• I can see the silhouette even without the lights!
• LOL, I guessed it from the path of Douzi’s head movement.
• Exactly, Douzi’s been tracking him with his whole body since he stepped on stage haha.

Still in the darkness, Xie Lan introduces seriously: “He Xiu, drums. Zhong Chen, lead guitar. Dou Sheng, keyboard. Ye Si, vocals and bass. The robot, Xiao Xie, is holding the sheet music.” He pauses. In the dark, the hands resting on the “guitar” pluck a string, letting out a clear, high note that sounds nothing like a guitar.

“Xie Lan. Position… wherever the wind blows.”

The hall is silent, yet a surge of excited cheering feels seconds away from breaking through.

The lights flare up. Xie Lan is sitting under the light, his violin bow temporarily set aside, seemingly not intending to use it. He also glances at Jian Zixing holding the phone at the very back and smiles at the lens.

“Band New Year version of Butterfly. Since the Chinese lyrics don’t quite match the melody, we’ve adjusted the arrangement slightly. I hope we don’t offend anyone who loves this anime. This song has special meaning for me and the keyboardist. We want to give this piece to everyone on this night of transition. I hope it portends… a turning point.”

Before the audience can even applaud, a string of clear, fluid piano notes rings out. Dou Sheng leads, his eyes lowered as he gently presses the notes. Then the drum beats follow lightly, and the guitar and bass take the melody smoothly from the piano.

Xie Lan plays the violin like a guitar, cradling it and plucking only a few notes casually.

• Hahaha, the violin is sulking.
• Violin: I didn’t know I had this talent.
• Violin: Thanks, my strings are meant to be plucked like this.

The intro passes. Ye Si, holding the bass, sings with a low laugh: “I want to turn into a butterfly, riding the breeze to fly high.”

Xie Lan adds a few notes, glancing back at Dou Sheng as if by accident. “Right now, I just want to run over and see you.”

Ye Si then looks back at He Xiu. “Put the troubling things aside; it doesn’t matter if they’re forgotten. There is no more extra time to waste.”

He Xiu slams the drumsticks down. The clear intro recedes, the drums and electric guitar suddenly become a clamor, and the five stand up in sync to sing together.

“Oh oh oh oh~ Light will appear under this clear sky. Even if oh oh oh oh~ facing an unknown tomorrow, we must take the risk bravely.”

The melody grows more frantic with the lyrics, building to a climax. Xie Lan suddenly grabs the bow and expertly rests the violin against his neck. The drums stall for half a second. Amidst the roaring music, the clear, ethereal melody of the violin pours out.

“Behind the infinitely extending hope, Crossing the cold and ruthless world, I don’t want to lose to myself. The memory of you makes me work harder.” Ye Si takes over, singing back to He Xiu: “Even if I occasionally encounter difficulties, with the wings you gave me, I can surely turn danger into safety. Oh, my love.”

The rich bass and drums spread a passionate rhythm throughout the hall, making the electric guitar more nimble and the violin more melodious. The audience hums along in unison, and Jian Zixing’s hand holding the phone sways slightly.

The second movement has the same melody, but Xie Lan adds more variations. The violin pushes the melody higher section by section. The atmosphere reaches a fever pitch, like a bustling New Year rock concert.

The chat is flooded, and the viewer count in the livestream room skyrockets.

• NUCLEAR EXPLOSION!!
• Among millions! It’s still you guys!
• So passionate, so youthful!
• My Lan-zai, my Douzi 555
• Everyone is great! The bass and guitar are amazing!
• The drummer and bassist keep making eye contact, just like Douzi and Lan-zai.
• 555 everyone together, let’s cross the cold and ruthless world! A roaring chapter ends. The music suddenly smooths out. The three in the back row stop simultaneously. As the stage lights fade, only Xie Lan and Ye Si remain under the spotlights.

In the few seconds of dead silence, the chat starts to panic.

• What happened?
• Is that it?
• Only three segments?
• I suddenly want to cry.
• If they hadn’t played, I wouldn’t have remembered all those grievances. They played like this, hooking my emotions and comforting me, but did they stop before the comfort was done?
• Lan-zai hasn’t left yet! In the silence, the crab robot holding the music sheet slowly waves its mechanical arm and flips a page.

Xie Lan sits back in his seat. Ye Si puts down the bass and swaps for a guitar from behind him. They smile at each other, performing the next segment of the same melody in a different way.

The most desperate lyrics are sung by Ye Si in the most relaxed tone, full of longing.

“After the infinitely extending dream, Even in this dull and heavy world, That’s right, cast aside prejudice; it’s actually not that bad.” Xie Lan takes over gently.

“Even if it’s still a hopeless fantasy in the end, Even if the wings aren’t yet full, I want to soar through the sky with you.” From the darkness in the back row, Dou Sheng harmonizes in a low voice: “My Love.”

The clear vocals strike the heart. It isn’t until the lights go out and the music has stopped for a long time that the audience finally seems to get their breath back.

Jian Zixing exhales softly, whispering: “My Love.”

• AAAAAH I’m bawling.
• Lan-zai is comforting me, I know it.
• They are comforting all of us.
• Hard work this year, everyone.
• Let’s welcome next year together!
• Wuwuwu, who remembers what Starry-boy relayed?
• I remember! Douzi said let’s travel together from the old year into the new!
• Together, through the haze!
• I will always love you guys!! …

Ten minutes before midnight, the stream, which had disconnected right after the live session, unexpectedly reconnected. This time, it’s Xie Lan holding the phone.

He is being embraced by Dou Sheng. Dou Sheng has his head buried in Xie Lan’s shoulder, his heavy winter coat covering half his face, his bangs hanging messily.

• WHOA! OPENING STRIKE!
• You two, ahem, though we’re all family, ahem…
• LOL, there are two more couples behind them.
• The couple at the very back is the ‘Medical Face’ mentioned earlier, right? He’s practically hanging off the guy.
• And Starry, he’s completely bundled in the arms of the handsome guy next to him.
• Compared to them, our Douzi is more well-behaved than a soldier at attention.
• Why do I feel like all six are drunk…
• Same. Douzi doesn’t even need to show his face; I can feel his ‘drunk aura’.
• +1
• After all, being a Dou-fan for six years counts for something… “Guess what the chat is saying.” Dou Sheng, buried in Xie Lan’s shoulder, gives a muffled hum, then speaks in a deliberately squeezed voice: “Senior Dou-fans guess Douzi must be drunk.”

He slowly lifts his head, glances at the phone, and snorts. “As expected.”

• As expected.
• As expected.
• As expected. Xie Lan laughs, pressing his hand onto Dou Sheng’s head. “Just stay down.”

Dou Sheng mumbles and buries his head back in, whispering: “Happy New Year, guys.”

• Happy New Year!!
• Aww, drunk Dou is so cute and soft!
• Is Xie Lan the best drinker in the room?
• The person above is dreaming; obviously one was left sober to escort everyone home.
• Shut up, does my Lan-zai not need face?
• Lan-zai, aren’t you going off-stream yet? It’s late, is your place far from school?
• Is it finals? When is the break?
• When is the next video?
• The arrangement earlier was so good, will there be a live audio track?
• Are the handsome guys in the back in pairs? Hehe. Xie Lan’s shoulder is going numb from Dou Sheng’s weight. He struggles to pull up his violin bag. Dou Sheng, still leaning on him, reaches out to unbuckle the violin case from his shoulder, swings it onto his own shoulder, and leans back down.
• LOL, like a koala.
• Douzi: Darling, I’ll carry the violin, you carry me.
• Hahahaha to the person above. Xie Lan curls his lips, answering the chat’s questions with his usual patience.

“Douzi wants to wait for midnight, so we’ll stream for a bit longer.”

“Mm, I don’t think it’s necessary to stream past midnight, but he’s always the one keeping up these rituals.”

“It’s finals week; everyone is busy as hell. Not much time to rehearse.”

“Oh right, our band might exist forever. Rehearsing together on weekends is a great way to decompress. The band’s name, ‘Riverside’ (Jiāngbiān), do you like it?”

“The next video will take a while; Douzi has been very, very tired lately. Hmm…”

“The four in the back… they, hmm…” Xie Lan pauses. Instead of answering the chat, he holds the phone higher and raises his voice: “Guys, say hello!”

Jian Zixing takes the opportunity to kick away Zhong Chen, who is holding him tight, and waves: “We meet again. Happy New Year.”

• Hahahaha it’s not New Year yet.
• Cool-faced handsome guy, why are you blushing?
• I get it. You were the one who ‘cured’ his broken mouth, weren’t you? Jian Zixing can’t see the chat at all. He irritably tidies his down jacket, which Zhong Chen had rubbed full of wrinkles.

Zhong Chen, holding the giant robot Xiao Xie with one arm, lazily tilts his chin at the phone. “Happy New Year, gossip-loving netizens I’ve never met.”

• Who are you calling names?
• Man, his mouth really is broken.
• Starry-boy, plug it up! Xie Lan gives a few low laughs and tries to hold the phone even higher. “Ye Si—! Introduce yourself!”

“Hey!” Ye Si jumps up in the back, waving frantically. The half-finished ice cream in his hand wobbles in the air. “Over here! Hello everyone, I’m the interloper from the school next door. Who I am doesn’t matter, but let me grandly introduce you to the badass, thunder-spinning, sky-ascending, building-capping, legendary Garlic-Head King beside me—”

Before he can finish, a slightly piercing ringtone suddenly sounds. Ye Si stands straight instantly, pulling his phone from his pocket. He Xiu naturally takes the ice cream from his hand, allowing him to turn his back and answer the call.

• What on earth did he just say?
• Couldn’t keep up, was that a tongue twister?
• Was it a rap?
• That ringtone is terrifying. I haven’t heard such a shrill tone in a long time. Xie Lan sighs. “That ringtone is a hospital call. It’s set specifically like that to distinguish it from normal calls.” He pauses. “Ye Si is interning at the hospital now. The pressure is huge.”

The moment he finishes, Ye Si stuffs the phone back in his pocket, turns around, and jumps a few times. “Everyone, everyone, Happy New Year in advance! I have to go now. Bye-bye!”

He turns and sprints away. He Xiu, long used to this, waves at Xie Lan’s camera and follows without even saying his own introduction.

In the frame, their silhouettes grow more distant and smaller until they gradually disappear into T-U’s quiet snowy night. The last clear thing is He Xiu reaching out to pull the hood of Ye Si’s coat over his head.

Xie Lan exhales, stays silent for a moment, then suddenly laughs.

• What is Lan-zai laughing at?
• Senior Ye Si works so hard, it’s so tragic.
• It’s almost midnight, what a shame they can’t celebrate together. “It’s not a shame,” Xie Lan is still smiling.

“Everyone has their own orbit.” Dou Sheng, buried in his shoulder, struggles to lift his head again. He naturally takes back the phone, muttering: “On New Year’s Eve, the doctor goes to the ER, the video-maker waits to countdown with you all, and those two—” He pauses, tilting the camera back. Jian Zixing and Zhong Chen have huddled together, talking into a single phone. “Those with heavy hearts choose to report safety to their families first.”

Dou Sheng rubs his face, exhaling in the cold wind. “That’s another year. The old year was thus, and the new year shall be the same. Everyone is in their own orbit, doing what needs to be done. Don’t look so downcast.”

Xie Lan nods beside him. “Our lives are but a moment.”

“But the longing is infinite.” Dou Sheng smiles and pokes Xie Lan’s cheek.

The time flips from 23:59 to 00:00. The first page of the new calendar is turned.

A single cluster of fireworks suddenly shoots into the T-U night sky. Silent and solitary, it carries a beam of purple light into the heavens before quietly dispersing.

Dou Sheng smiles at the camera. “I announce, the travel from the old year to the new is complete. To those asking for updates, take a rest. We’re going off-stream. Don’t be in a hurry. In the new year, we will naturally meet again.”

Xie Lan smiles. “Then, see you next time.”

Together, travel into the New Year.