The doors leading from the living room to the courtyard were wide open.

The late afternoon sunlight had a pale yellow hue, trimmed into jagged shapes by the leaves and tree shade. Though the edges were fragmented, they connected into a continuous patch that crept along the wooden floor up to Xie Jinghe’s feet.

In the air, tiny dust motes glowed brightly in the sunlight.

Shi Linchuan stood halfway up the stairs, gazing down from his high vantage point at the person sitting on the piano bench. Instead of asking why he was acting on every sudden whim lately, he simply ambled downstairs with unhurried steps.

Clack.

With a look of utter nonchalance, Shi Linchuan set the empty glass cup onto the side lid of the piano. With his eyelids half-drooped, he saw Xie Jinghe tilting his head up to stare at him, his face illuminated and dazzling in the sunlight.

“Did I disturb you?”

As he spoke, he turned sideways, wrapping both arms around the man’s waist while resting his chin against the man’s lower abdomen.

Shi Linchuan casually stroked his cheek, his palm habitually sliding to the back of his neck, giving it a couple of neither too light nor too heavy squeezes. “I just happened to come out to pour some water and heard you clinking and clanking downstairs.”

“Were you making fun of me just now?”

Xie Jinghe slipped his hand under the hem of the man’s clothes, his fingertips very gently pinching a small patch of skin—as if the moment the man nodded or uttered a single “yes”, he would retaliate viciously.

Fierce as could be, not someone to be messed with.

Yet Shi Linchuan was no pushover either.

He pinched the back of Xie Jinghe’s neck, his fingers pressing down one by one against the bone at the nape of his neck. His posture was domineering, laced with an indefinable trace of ambiguity—resembling a male lion declaring its sovereignty.

Sure enough, Xie Jinghe was squeezed until his whole body went soft. His eyes flickered like a rippling pool of emerald water, and his pursed lips unconsciously opened a sliver, looking as though he were soliciting a kiss.

Shi Linchuan tilted his head slightly with a faint smile hanging at the corner of his lips. His voice was somewhat low, making one’s ears burn upon hearing it.

“Not just now, but I am indeed laughing at you now.”

Laughing at his lack of willpower.

With just a hook of the man’s eyes, his soul was ready to fly away.

Xie Jinghe caught his drift and felt like refuting it, yet he couldn’t bear to break away from the warm palm clasped around the back of his neck. He even craved more, so he could only sullenly give up.

He was just useless like that; he could only admit defeat.

The two had been divorced for a while now.

They had also been dating for a while.

Compared to their previous three years of marriage, this period wasn’t very long, but the way they interacted had undergone a massive shift—sometimes bickering and fooling around over the smallest trivialities, only to turn around and kiss passionately the next second, hopelessly clingy with each other.

It was quite sick.

A mutual two-way sickness, so to speak.

This relationship was being conducted so boisterously that it felt as if four people were involved.

Shi Linchuan profoundly felt that for himself and Xie Jinghe to reach this stage, neither of them was innocent. He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss beneath his accomplice’s eyes, then raised his chin, motioning:

“Scoot over a bit.”

Hearing this, Xie Jinghe seemed to realize something. Where he would usually cling a bit longer, he now obediently let go and actively scooted to the side, giving up half of the double piano bench.

Shi Linchuan sat down naturally.

Water droplets clung to the walls of the glass cup, refracting the light into a miniature rainbow halo across the jet-black surface of the piano.

Shi Linchuan looked at this rainbow light. His corrected vision was no longer blurry, and his stern, handsome features were no longer obscured, standing out exceptionally. Sitting beside Xie Jinghe—an entertainer who relied on his face for a living—he didn’t look inferior in the slightest.

Unlike Xie Jinghe’s natural and relaxed posture, after the man sat down, subtle yet definitely present changes occurred in his demeanor.

Xie Jinghe couldn’t put it into words, he only felt…

At this very moment.

The man ought to be sitting on the stage of a grand Golden Hall, surrounded by fellow musicians standing or sitting who possessed the same striking aura. The air before the opening performance would probably be very quiet, yet carrying a strange heat.

The eyes of the audience below the stage would all fall upon him.

Unable to look away.

In a flash, a few words popped into Xie Jinghe’s mind.

—The Black Swan.

The man was like a proud and noble black swan. His posture was elegant to the extreme, every single feather lush, perfect, and sparkling.

As if he wasn’t a person from the same world as himself.

This thought crossed Xie Jinghe’s mind once again.

…Refusing to be dispelled.

To tell the truth, Shi Linchuan’s mood right now was a bit complex.

Compared to his previous behavior of burying his head in the sand, Xie Jinghe was acting much more unrestrained around him now—daring to ask, daring to speak, daring to test the waters, and even daring to look through his phone.

Occasionally, there was even a faint, subtle probing.

Xie Jinghe’s acting skills in front of the camera were good enough to be featured in textbooks, yet in front of him, these talents seemed to become futile efforts. Shi Linchuan had picked up on the other’s abnormality immediately, and after careful review…

The abnormality had begun showing up right after the system unbound.

It was highly unlikely to be a coincidence.

Thus, Shi Linchuan had a vague guess.

He had thought he would regress into his old habits.

Yet in the end, he actually felt only a wave of indescribable excitement and thrill, even a sensation that made his scalp go numb—

It was as if an ancient maze that had never been opened to anyone, after being abandoned for many years, had finally waited for an adventurer to explore it, both anticipating and resisting his intrusion.

Unable to resist indulging him, unable to resist dropping clues.

Shi Linchuan sat up straight. Catching the infatuated look in the corner of his eye that Xie Jinghe held for him as always, his expression remained calm as he asked indifferently:

“Wanting to learn piano again today?”

Xie Jinghe silently raised his left hand, pressing down on the keys one by one with his index finger, tapping out a few crisp scales.

Being a performance-grade piano, the tone quality was exceptionally good.

“Mm.”

A strange atmosphere diffused between them.

It wasn’t bad; it revealed a bit of inexplicable anxiety. If one had to describe it… it was similar to two people with mutual affection who had just entered a close relationship, feeling unfamiliar with each other and thus subconsciously wanting to draw closer and explore.

Both of them were perhaps well aware, yet both coincidentally chose to indulge, letting it happen and anticipating its occurrence.

No matter what it was.

Shi Linchuan was merely teasing casually, not demanding that Xie Jinghe spell out a full explanation. Having spoken to himself, he took hold of his left hand, teaching him to play a few sets of simple chords.

Due to the needs of a certain role, Xie Jinghe had once learned a bit of piano superficially for a few days, though it was only at an entry level.

Still, remembering a chord was no problem.

The wind at two or three in the afternoon was lazy. It flipped a somersault into the courtyard and sauntered back and forth through the living room, as if merely coming over to watch the fun.

On the black and white keys were two overlapping hands.

The hand covering the top looked fairer in skin tone. From the forearm to the wrist bone, and down to the back of the hand and knuckles, every single spot exuded a lustrous sheen, like fine white jade.

A moment later.

This hand moved away, revealing the one underneath.

Xie Jinghe’s hands were nicely shaped, but coming from a poor background, he had to learn to take care of himself at a very young age and sometimes had to do odd jobs. Later, as he grew up, he took on many part-time jobs.

Most of which were physical labor.

It wasn’t until he entered the entertainment industry that things began to improve.

However, the acting business wasn’t easy either, often requiring exposure to the sun and wind. Consequently, his skin tone was somewhat darker than the man’s, and the fine lines on his hands were a bit more pronounced.

Shi Linchuan withdrew his gaze, directing Xie Jinghe to start playing. The next second, his own hands also moved back and forth across the keys, his long, bony knuckles flexing and extending, fingertips dropping lightly…

Guided by the man, Xie Jinghe pressed out the chords one by one.

Before long.

An extremely complex Ah! vous dirai-je, maman Variations (Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star Variations) flowed out from beneath their fingers. The man was responsible for playing the main melody as well as the high-difficulty variation sections. His fingers flew incessantly, almost blurring into lingering shadows.

Making the other person look like he was just there to make up the numbers.

Xie Jinghe indeed was.

Most of his attention was fixed on the man beside him.

Shi Linchuan felt this familiar, tangible gaze at close range. A spot at the back of his head seemed to be heating up slightly, gradually spreading down his spine, to his elbows, and to his fingertips.

Friction against the keys made his fingertips feel hot as well.

Under the influence of a certain intuition, he played two wrong notes.

Fortunately, Xie Jinghe couldn’t tell the difference.

It wasn’t considered embarrassing.

Once the piece concluded, Shi Linchuan turned his face, glancing at the guy beside him who was mesmerized—whether from watching or listening—and spoke slowly:

“Are you satisfied?”

Hearing this, Xie Jinghe’s expression went blank.

After a long while.

He tugged at the man’s sleeve and asked softly:

“Linchuan, if I want to play as well as you, how long would I have to learn?”

As he spoke, his fingers unconsciously pinched the fluff threads of the clothing accumulated around the man’s elbows. Unintentionally, he pulled out a loose thread. After two seconds of silence, he stuffed it back in while pretending nothing had happened.

Shi Linchuan took in this entire scene, choosing not to expose him. He simply pondered quietly for a long time before giving a realistic answer.

“You probably have to wait until your next life.”

Seeing Xie Jinghe abruptly look over, his eyes half vigilant and half suspicious, trying to discern if he was trying to embarrass him with words again.

Thus, Shi Linchuan added without batting an eye:

“Childhood foundation.”

“You have to practice from a young age; it’s not very interesting.”

Xie Jinghe looked at him for a long time, his expression showing a moment of hesitation and loss. In the end, he merely nodded, pursing his lips: “…Oh.”

As their eyes met,

Xie Jinghe was the first to avert his gaze for the very first time.

Shi Linchuan: “…”

However, just as he was about to get up and go upstairs, this person suddenly leaned closer to him, narrowing the already tiny distance between them down to almost nothing, then rested his head against his shoulder.

After a while.

Xie Jinghe said in an extremely, extremely soft voice,

“Linchuan, you seem to know how to do everything.”

“You’re really amazing.”

Shi Linchuan felt that this person’s head was as heavy as a stone, weighing him down until he couldn’t move, yet his heart felt like it was inflated and about to float up. So, he raised his hand and played an improvised melody.

Xie Jinghe let out a soft “wow” right beside his ear.

…Tsk.

Uncultured.

Shi Linchuan really hadn’t played the piano in a long time; his skills were rusty, not to mention he had the burden of Xie Jinghe on his shoulder. He played several pieces in a row before regaining his touch, while this stone head had already started requesting songs.

The sun gradually shifted westward.

The color of the sunlight grew rich, resembling orange juice.

Watching and listening at the same time, Xie Jinghe was drooling with envy. He skillfully submitted an application to Shi Linchuan: “Coach, I want to learn piano! For real!”

Tired from playing, the man flicked a glance at him, stood up leisurely, picked up the empty glass cup he had neglected for a long time, and walked toward the cabinet where the coffee machine was placed.

As he walked, he spoke:

“Sure, pay the tuition fee first.”

Xie Jinghe wrinkled his nose, trying to vindicate himself:

“I seriously want to learn.”

Shi Linchuan turned around, his expression cold and indifferent, his tone of voice flat and serious as well. If he weren’t wearing loungewear but rather a formal suit, he could probably walk straight up onto a public podium and deliver a speech into the microphone.

The man’s words were concise and to the point.

He said,

“I also seriously want to f*ck you.”

That night, the two couldn’t care less about having dinner, turning the first-floor living room into a total mess; neither the sofa nor the piano escaped the disaster. Shi Linchuan felt that Xie Jinghe’s cries sounded even sweeter than the piano, even maliciously offering a commentary:

“You are suited for learning vocal music.”

Hearing this, Xie Jinghe’s face flushed bright red with shame.

The clothes on his upper body were worn exceptionally neatly. Sitting in the middle of the double piano bench, he only pressed one out of ten scales correctly.

The man held him with both hands clamped around his waist; the muscle tear injury seemed to have fully recovered.

“Ooh…”

“I’m not learning anymore, I’m not learning…”

At the end of the night.

Having just emerged from the bathtub, Xie Jinghe dragged his limping, broken body to throw away the clothes he had worn that day—the ones he had dirtied—right in front of the man.

—Throwing away the black swan’s feather coat.

That way, he wouldn’t be able to fly away.

Xie Jinghe curled into the man’s arms with utter satisfaction, his waist covered in the other’s handprints, muttering softly:

“You haven’t taught me yet. You’re not allowed to go anywhere.”

Shi Linchuan lowered his head to look at his cheeks, which were still flushed with a soft red. He pressed the start button on the hair dryer, and amidst the roaring hot air, he leaned into the person’s ear and repeated the words he had once said.

“We might have to wait…”

“Until the next life.”

After all, the tuition fees had already been collected.

What else could be done?

Grit your teeth, and a lifetime will pass very quickly.