There were only three hours left before the train departed. As luck would have it, Yu Fei’s house and the station were on opposite ends of the small city, while Dou Sheng’s house was tragically located right in the middle.

When Dou Sheng left his house, he pushed out a large suitcase he had just finished packing. Xie Lan had it worse; he hadn’t had time to pack anything. He simply shoved a few things into a toiletries bag, shouldered his violin, and left.

He remained in a daze until he was standing inside Yu Fei’s resplendent home.

The reason for his daze was complicated.

First, it was the poem, Written on the Wall at West Forest Temple.

Second, it was the fact that he was currently inside one of four small, encircling villas. When they got out of the car, he had asked Dou Sheng which one was Yu Fei’s house, and Dou Sheng had said they all were.

Yu Fei was slumped in a lounge chair, staring at the ceiling with a look of utter despair. Display cabinets filled with art stood on either side of the chair; amidst the overwhelming aura of wealth, he looked like a rotting herring held hostage by money.

Laid out flat on the sofa was a set of Hanfu with cloud shoulders and wide sleeves. The layers of gauze and embroidery looked in no way inferior within this opulent home, the material possessing a familiar silky texture.

Papa Yu was a man in his forties, with a dignified and steady temperament. But at this moment, his fingers were buried in his hair, his eyes full of dejection.

After a long silence, Yu Fei sighed deeply.

“Dad, thank you for raising me for over a decade, but today your son has to speak from the bottom of his heart—I really feel that I am male. I have a sense of conviction about my own gender. If you really don’t believe me, Bean is here, let him tell you.”

Dou Sheng smiled, repeatedly examining the gauze on the Hanfu while the father and son negotiated. A moment later, he simply picked up the hanger and held it against himself.

Papa Yu turned pale with fright. “Bean, what are you doing? Put it down, quick!”

Dou Sheng openly admired himself in the reflective glass of the collection cabinet in the house. “Herring didn’t lie, these clothes really are mine. Tsk, I look so good in them. The sleeves are just a bit short; they’ll need altering. Hey Herring, did you receive the wig I ordered?”

Yu Fei was silent for a moment before calmly pinching his own thigh. “Not yet, soon.”

Papa Yu: “??”

Xie Lan: “…”

The wig was debatable, but the scene before him made Xie Lan suspect that Dou Sheng genuinely liked the outfit.

Papa Yu sprang up from the sofa, looking at Dou Sheng with a face full of absurdity. “Bean, Uncle has watched you grow up for so many years, how did I never see you had this kind of… hobby? Don’t you help Yu Fei lie to me.”

“What’s there to lie about? Am I afraid to tell people about my little hobby?” Dou Sheng scoffed. He cherishedly placed the Hanfu back on the sofa, then skillfully opened Bilibili, found the ‘One Million Followers Benefit’ video, and shoved the phone at Papa Yu.

“Here, the whole internet knows my obsession.”

Xie Lan’s hand, usually steady as a rock when bowing the violin, trembled, and he silently put down the teacup he had just picked up.

Yu Fei sat up straight in the rocking chair, looking at Dou Sheng with eyes full of reverence.

Papa Yu stared fixedly at the screen where Dou Sheng was smoothing out the pleats of a skirt for the camera, frantically pressing the volume up button.

Dou Sheng’s smiling voice rang out: “How is it? I spent a fortune ordering this set. Does this count as the ‘Dream Bean’ of your dreams?”

The living room was huge, and the words “Dream Bean” echoed in the empty house.

The Dream Bean himself smiled nonchalantly, taking a sip of the tea the housekeeper brought over. “Actually, I’m just okay with Hanfu. I only buy it occasionally. Usually, I prefer wearing things with less fabric. Hanfu is stuffy; little skirts are so much cooler.”

The big boss, seasoned in the business world, took a deep breath, his hands shaking slightly.

Yu Fei immediately said, “Dad, hold on!”

It took Papa Yu two or three minutes to stabilize himself before handing the phone back to Dou Sheng.

He gave a hum, trying his best to sound steady. “You can’t just aim for being cool. Uncle thinks… Hanfu is a bit better. A perfectly good boy wearing things that are too revealing isn’t proper. Showing off two big white legs isn’t safe either.”

Dou Sheng looked amazed. “You really are considerate. Boys need to protect themselves outside, too.”

“Yes, right, I… that’s what I meant.” Papa Yu’s eyes lost focus for a moment before he pulled a stack of business cards from his pocket. “Bean, Uncle Yu knows several teachers who love chatting with people. Chatting about life, emotions, anything goes. See if you’re interested?”

Dou Sheng looked shocked. “There’s such a good thing?”

Xie Lan was already numb. He lifted his eyelids to glance at Yu Fei.

Yu Fei was behind his dad, clasping his hands together and praying frantically to Dou Sheng.

Dou Sheng glanced at him, smiled faintly, and accepted the stack of cards. “Uncle, I’ll call them one by one when I get on the train later. If there’s nothing else, I’ll head out first?”

Papa Yu waved his hands hurriedly. “No need to rush to contact them. You guys are catching a train, right? Go, go quickly. Oh right, leave the Hanfu at my place for now, pick it up after your trip. And, uh, Yu Fei, take care of your friend while you’re out. Keep Bean company and let him relax properly.”

Yu Fei let out a breath of relief. “I know, I know.”

---

There were two hours left before the train departed. It was a race against time. The Yu family driver put on his white gloves and entered Fast and Furious mode.

With the driver present, the three didn’t speak much on the way. Cutting it close with the ticket check closing in five minutes, they rushed out of the car and sprinted for the departure hall.

It was drizzling outside. Dou Sheng pushed his suitcase, striding forward. “So you really do like Liu Yixuan. Someone who barely scrapes by in life like you actually has someone they like.”

Yu Fei grumbled irritably, “I just have no resistance to cuteness, what can I do?!”

Dou Sheng chuckled. “How are you going to repay me?”

Yu Fei shouted in the rain, “My life is yours!”

“Who wants that?” Dou Sheng smiled faintly. “Young Master, put some heart into chasing someone. Throwing money and gifts is tacky as hell.”

Yu Fei sped up in the rain with his big bag. “I beg you to shut up! When we see Liu Yixuan later, don’t say anything. Next time you stream, I’ll definitely give you a grand display of support.”

Dou Sheng said lightly, “What does an old uploader like me need a display for? Give it to Xie Lan.”

Xie Lan, walking in front with a messy mind, was suddenly cued.

He instinctively stopped, waiting for Dou Sheng to catch up with his suitcase before striding forward quickly again.

The rainy night was dark, and the lights outside the train station were dim. Their wet arms brushed against each other, and both of them dodged away simultaneously.

The rain fell harder, hanging on Xie Lan’s eyelashes, gradually blurring his vision.

They rushed through the gate at the very last second, ran all the way to the carriage, and finally boarded the train.

It was Xie Lan’s first time on a domestic train. It was a green train with soft sleeper compartments. Each compartment was open-plan with four beds—upper and lower bunks on the left and right—separated from the narrow aisle by a sliding door.

Everyone else had arrived. Liu Yixuan and Dong Shuijing were in the compartment to the left, Dai You, Che Ziming, and Yu Fei were in the middle, and Xie Lan and Dou Sheng were on the right.

It was the May Day holiday, and the carriage was full. Sharing the compartment with Xie Lan and Dou Sheng was an elderly couple. As soon as they sat down, Che Ziming wandered over clutching a handful of sunflower seeds. “What’s up with you three? Good lord, how could you be late for this?”

Dou Sheng kicked his surprisingly large suitcase into the gap between the lower bunk and the floor, saying calmly, “Herring came to pick us up on the way, but the driver got lost and circled around a few times.”

“Shocking. What era is this that people still get lost?” Che Ziming extended the sunflower seeds. “Want some?”

Xie Lan shook his head. Dou Sheng took two, cracked them open quickly while standing in the narrow aisle, handed the shells back to Che Ziming, then propped his hand on the upper bunk, stepped on the pedal, and flew directly onto the bed.

The train slowly pulled away from the platform. As the staff on the platform disappeared from view, Xie Lan sat on the lower bunk, his back against the somewhat cold wall.

The neighboring compartment was noisy; a group of students released from school had entered hyper-chat mode. Xie Lan stood up and grabbed his only bag, the toiletries kit. “I’m going to wash my face.”

“Go ahead,” Dou Sheng responded from above. “Chen Ge said he’s coming over.”

Xie Lan paused. “Chen Ge is here too?”

Dou Sheng hummed. “Che Ziming asked him several times, and he kept saying no. This morning he suddenly said he bought a standing ticket. Psycho.”

Xie Lan instinctively glanced at the next compartment. The group was gathered around Liu Yixuan’s computer watching the rough footage filmed today. Yu Fei sat beside her, somewhat reservedly offering editing suggestions.

From the connection point between the two carriages in the distance, a familiar figure walked over. Chen Ge was still wearing the same clothes from when they checked the exam rankings, not even taking off his school uniform jacket. He walked over and gave a “Hey” to Xie Lan. “New video is pretty impressive. It hung on my homepage all day.”

The surroundings were quiet for a moment, then Che Ziming jumped up. “You actually dared to come?”

With the ice broken, the boys immediately erupted into noise. Dong Shuijing smiled after a moment, lowering her head to continue watching the rough cut on the screen.

Chen Ge’s gaze swept over the top of her head, and he sat down next to Che Ziming.

“Just came out to walk with you guys. My mom was discharged. After May Day, I’m transferring schools. I won’t be in H City for a while.”

The carriage fell silent again instantly. No one spoke. After a long time, Dong Shuijing asked calmly, “Leaving H City… will the troubles at home be fewer?”

Chen Ge gave a confirmation. “I put the house up with an agent. I want to find a place to finish high school in peace. Old Hu helped me contact a school in D City. Wherever I go for university later, my mom will follow.”

Everyone was speechless for a moment. Only Dong Shuijing smiled.

“That’s good,” she said softly. “Where we go for university depends on our own abilities. No one can influence anyone else.”

Hearing this, Chen Ge leaned back against the wall, the corners of his lips hooking up slightly, his gaze somewhat soft.

“It can still be influenced. Didn’t we decide where we wanted to go back in first year? That hasn’t changed.”

Xie Lan stood at the door watching him for a moment before turning to walk toward the washroom.

The group behind him quickly became rowdy again. Che Ziming tried to drag Chen Ge to squeeze into one bed with him, only to be disgustedly shoved away by Chen Ge.

Xie Lan walked past one sleeper compartment after another until the laughter was drowned out by the noise of the entire train. He slid open the narrow washroom door and locked himself inside.

Once the door closed, all sounds seemed to be covered by a bell jar. The cramped, narrow space brought a sense of security.

He let out a long breath and turned on the faucet to wash his hands.

In the mirror, his black hair was messy from the rain. Those usually calm black eyes were not as composed as usual; the subtle fluctuations in his gaze revealed the panic he had been hiding all night.

The poem Written on the Wall at West Forest Temple—he had taught himself it long ago, right after Dou Sheng mentioned it last time.

He understood what that sentence meant.

Maybe it was just a bit hard to believe. After preparing himself to bite into a sour lemon, finding it sweet… who would dare believe it?

Xie Lan turned on the faucet again. The stream was thin. He cupped his hands and waited a long time to gather just a handful of water to splash on his face.

He pulled a tissue from his toiletries bag to wipe his face, then wiped his hair along with it, and opened the door to leave.

In the distance, Dou Sheng was pointing at the computer screen with Liu Yixuan, discussing the editing.

Actually, Dou Sheng was acting out of character tonight too. Usually, he only acted flirtatious for the camera; he was very indifferent when getting along with people. Even if he was helping Yu Fei, he wouldn’t talk a mile a minute to his dad like that.

Either he had some suppressible happiness, or he was as panicked as Xie Lan.

Perhaps it was both.

Xie Lan walked slowly back. As he passed their noisy compartment, Liu Yixuan happened to say, “Xie Lan is really too awesome. One ad is almost at a million views. The fan reposts for the battle yesterday also have over a hundred thousand. All of us in the dance section are discussing him.”

Amidst the chorus of agreement, Dou Sheng’s calm voice was sandwiched in the middle, yet impossible to ignore.

“Yeah, this time he really established his brand. The future is long.”

Xie Lan passed them and returned to his own sleeper compartment alone, sitting on the bed.

The elderly couple wasn’t there. He sat alone, his T-shirt stuck to his body from the rain, feeling a bit uncomfortable. He had left in too much of a hurry; he’d have to buy a change of clothes after getting off the train. For now, he could only use his phone to look at tomorrow’s shooting plan.

For this trip to the Three Gorges, in addition to traveling, they had to do an outdoor shoot to submit for #HeartPoundingMusic#. Filming natural scenery required high camera standards. Xie Lan put down his phone, wanting to pull out Dou Sheng’s suitcase to see what lenses he brought. But when he bent down, he found the suitcase zipper was half-open; it had obviously been opened already.

Only then did he notice a backpack belonging to Dou Sheng at the foot of the bed. Folded on top of the bag was a familiar white T-shirt and a pair of light gray sweatpants, both of which Dou Sheng wore most often.

“Change your clothes,” a familiar voice with a low, magnetic quality sounded from the doorway.

Xie Lan looked up. Dou Sheng was blocking the sliding door with his body. Meeting Xie Lan’s startled gaze, he hooked his lips. “They’re clean. We’re about the same size, just borrow them.”

Xie Lan instinctively refused, “No need…”

But Dou Sheng had already grabbed the clothes and tossed them into his arms. “Just change. I’m going back to edit the video with Liu Yixuan.”

Dou Sheng turned and left, sliding the door shut behind him.

With a thud, the noise outside was cut off again.

Xie Lan held the clothes, hesitating for a long while before slowly standing up.

Two guys hanging out—there really wasn’t that much to be awkward about. He brainwashed himself three or five times, then tugged at the collar and pulled off the semi-wet T-shirt, quickly pulling on Dou Sheng’s.

The dry fabric gently rubbed against his skin. Even though it had just been taken out, it seemed to carry a faint, almost imperceptible warmth. The moment he put it on, a mix of unfamiliarity and familiarity wrapped around him. Xie Lan pondered it for a moment before realizing the source of the familiarity was that Dou Sheng clung to him too much usually. Wearing his clothes felt like reliving the sensation of being held by the shoulder or leaned on.

He suddenly felt his ears burning shamefully. A burst of laughter erupted from next door—clearly not laughing at him, yet it made him feel self-conscious.

Like a thief, Xie Lan hurriedly undid his belt, took off the rain-dampened pants, and braced himself to put on Dou Sheng’s sweatpants.

The noisier it was outside, the more urgent his movements became. His slender fingers pulled the drawstring of the pants, quickly tightening and knotting it.

Just as he was about to tighten the slipknot, there was a knock on the sliding door.

Knock knock.

Dou Sheng called from outside, “Changed yet? I’m coming in.”

Xie Lan froze for two seconds, clutching the waistband. Dou Sheng slid the door open, looked up, and paused.

Xie Lan was standing there, holding the two strings, looking a bit blank.

Dou Sheng looked at him for a moment, then suddenly let out a low laugh, sliding the door shut behind him with one hand.

He asked in a low voice, “Can’t tie the pants? Shall I help you?”

“No need!”

Xie Lan fell back onto the bed, quickly tied the knot, and pulled the hem of the T-shirt down to cover it.

The messy T-shirt was caught on the waistband at the side, revealing a strip of fair skin. He quickly tugged it again, letting it fall back to where it should be.

Xie Lan let out a long, silent sigh of relief.

Dou Sheng stood in front of him, laughing softly. It took a while for him to stop. He walked to the bed, lowering his gaze to look at him.

The overhead light was mostly blocked by the boy’s tall figure, casting a shadow over the small single bed. Xie Lan, wearing Dou Sheng’s clothes, sat in the shadow he created. The noise outside the door seemed to drift away as the train moved; in a trance, he had the illusion of being embraced.

After a long time, Xie Lan looked into those black eyes and said, “I… learned that poem.”

Dou Sheng’s eyes shifted slightly. A moment later, he took a step back and smiled faintly. “Is that so? I thought you would come to find me; I was figuring out how to teach you.”

Xie Lan: “…”

The train broadcast suddenly sounded. The attendant announced lights out in a lowered voice, wishing everyone a good night.

The voices of the elderly couple next door approached, stopping outside the sliding door. The moment the door opened, the overhead light went out, plunging the sleeper compartment into dimness.

Dou Sheng stepped sideways to let the two elders in, standing at the doorway looking at Xie Lan.

He whispered, “But I’ve already prepared the lesson. Wait for me, don’t rush to hand in your homework.”

The train slowly drove through the suburbs. Streaks of light from outside flashed across those deep, peaceful eyes—so bright.

Xie Lan subconsciously curled his legs up, stepping on the edge of the bed. He wrapped his arms around his legs, rubbing against the pants that belonged to Dou Sheng, and gave a soft hum.

“I know.”

“I’m going to help Liu Yixuan edit the video. I can’t sleep on the train anyway. You sleep well.”

Dou Sheng dropped that sentence in a low voice and turned to walk to the next compartment. As he left, his steps carried a panic that hadn’t been there before.

Xie Lan withdrew his gaze, watching the suburban scenery silently retreat in the night outside the window. He zoned out for a while, his fingers inadvertently touching his phone. The screen lit up; the clock just happened to jump to 00:00, flipping from April 30th to May 1st.

Two full months since returning to the country.

Life had reversed in silence. Some emotions that couldn’t be dispelled had faded at some point, covered by others that were even harder to clarify.

A sudden illness, yet the patient lingered in it.

He tapped open his phone photos and found the album “Mom.” It stored the photos of his mother’s journal, page by page. For the past two years, he had flipped through it almost every day, but recently, he hadn’t thought of it for a long time.

Xie Lan clicked on a random one and flipped forward by date until he also landed on a May 1st.

That was also a seemingly ordinary May Day during Xiao Langjing’s high school years.

On the old page were a few lines left by the girl from those years.

—The phoenix trees actually bloomed this year. Wenying says the language of the phoenix flower is “the first awakening of love” (qing dou chu kai). Pity, I haven’t met someone I like yet.

Xie Lan hugged his legs tighter, as if secretly embracing someone far on the horizon yet right before his eyes.

His gaze stopped on the character “Dou” (窦), and he heard his own heartbeat become uncontrollably chaotic amidst the rhythmic clatter of the train on the tracks.

---

Author’s Note:

The flowers in the courtyard have bloomed. Bean Egg sat by the keyboard humming a song.

After humming a song, it suddenly said: Keyboard typist, actually Lazy Egg understands everything.

The keyboard typist pouted: I told you long ago.

Bean Egg paused and said: I’m going to go for a direct shot.

Flowers are good, the egg is round; it all comes down to this one gamble.