Chapter 39

They left Elder Yu’s house before nine o’clock—it wasn’t too late yet. Jing Li asked Ji Yunzhang if he wanted to take a stroll. Ji Yunzhang was curious to see the city where Jing Li had grown up, so he readily agreed.

M City was a southern coastal city. They followed the road to its end, arriving at the seaside.

The beach was bustling, especially the sandy stretches crowded with people. Plenty of young folks and kids were waving sparklers around, their laughter ringing out nonstop.

With that many people, they had no interest in joining the throng. “Let’s keep walking,” Jing Li suggested. “A little farther on, it should thin out.”

Ji Yunzhang had no objections.

Ten minutes or so later, the crowds had indeed dwindled; they only spotted the occasional passerby. The breeze coming off the water carried a hint of moisture, laced with the faint, briny tang of the sea.

“Feel like walking on the beach?” Jing Li turned to ask Ji Yunzhang.

This stretch was nearly deserted now. Ji Yunzhang nodded, and they descended the nearby steps together.

The waves lapped right at their feet as they strolled along the sand. The streetlights were too distant to reach them here, leaving the scene dimly lit. Moved by the moment, Jing Li came to a stop and said abruptly, “You know, I skipped class once.”

Ji Yunzhang shot him a sidelong glance. “To come here?”

He nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets and tilting his face toward the sky. The moon was visible tonight, hanging solitary overhead. The city’s glare had drowned out most of the stars, though a couple persisted defiantly.

“It was the day before my tenth birthday, but they all forgot. All they cared about was that I hadn’t come in first, so they had nothing to brag about.” Jing Li stared out at the dark sea, the waves rolling in to crash against the shore. Just listening to it soothed him, easing his heart into a calm rhythm.

He had always loved the sound of the surf.

Ji Yunzhang reached up and gently ruffled his hair—a quiet gesture of comfort and affection.

“Want to hear what I was like as a kid?” he asked.

Jing Li whipped around, eyes lighting up with interest. “Definitely!”

“I was the king of the kids back then, lording it over a pack of ‘little brothers’ and strutting through the streets all day. High school was even wilder—I was always getting called up to speak under the flag, which drove the teachers up the wall.”

Jing Li’s eyes went wide with shock.

But a second later, he caught the glint of mischief in Ji Yunzhang’s gaze. He couldn’t help kicking him lightly. “…Teacher Ji, you’re kind of bad.”

“It was exaggerated a little, but not entirely made up.” Ji Yunzhang’s lips curved in a smile. “I was a handful in my younger days—loved having fun, and everyone wanted to tag along with me. The teachers really did have headaches because of it. I hated the school uniform; thought it was ugly, so I skipped wearing it and got busted all the time.”

“Speaking under the flag?”

“That’s where you got it wrong. I really did speak—and my grades were top-notch.”

How was that his fault? Ji Yunzhang had steered him that way on purpose! “You set it up in that context just to trick me,” Jing Li protested.

Ji Yunzhang chuckled. “Didn’t you say I was kind of bad?”

Jing Li: “…”

He had nothing to say to that.

Even so, his mood had lifted. The old childhood memories receded, no longer weighing on him.

They pressed on along the beach until they reached a rocky outcrop. The tide had receded not long before, exposing the stones fully. Jing Li clambered onto the largest one, settled down cross-legged, and patted the spot beside him, inviting Ji Yunzhang to join.

They sat shoulder to shoulder. The sea at night was an inky black expanse, stretching out until it blurred into nothingness; all that remained was the rhythmic crash of the waves.

Jing Li rested his hands on his knees, pillowed his head on his arms, and closed his eyes, listening in silence.

Ji Yunzhang gazed down at him.

The night could not conceal the tenderness in his eyes.

~~~

They didn’t linger long in the city. The next day, after lunch, Jing Li and Ji Yunzhang flew to M Province and checked into the hotel arranged by the program team.

They arrived just as Zhou Shi and Chen Xiaohan finished dinner and were heading back from outside.

The four of them ran into each other in the elevator.

Chen Xiaohan had only just learned that Jing Li was from M City. Intrigued, she asked, “Is it fun there? I’ve never been.”

“It’s pretty good.” Jing Li rattled off a few famous attractions. “Those spots are great, though they get packed during holidays. Off-season is much nicer.”

Chen Xiaohan murmured in agreement and looped her arm through Zhou Shi’s. “We should go to M City on our next trip,” she suggested to him.

Zhou Shi smiled indulgently. “Sounds good.”

The elevator dinged at their floor first. Chen Xiaohan gave Jing Li a wave, then offered Ji Yunzhang a slight nod. It was clear she was far warmer and more familiar with Jing Li now, a big shift from her initial attitude of acknowledging him only as an afterthought to Ji Yunzhang.

Once the doors slid shut, Jing Li remarked, “Sister Chen added me on WeChat a while back.”

It had been right after that flower-folding incident.

Ji Yunzhang nodded. “If she took the initiative to add you, it means she wants to be friends.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

They were in the middle of chatting when Jing Li’s phone chimed. He pulled it out and saw a friend request, with the sender noting her name: Shen Ru.

He waved the phone in front of Ji Yunzhang again, his tone light and upbeat. “Sister Shen added me too.”

Ji Yunzhang gazed at the smile in his eyes and softened his own. “Not bad. Little friend Jing Li is quite popular.”

Jing Li still hadn’t gotten used to being called “little friend.”

He had a feeling he’d never get used to it.

He touched his ear, then used the motion of accepting Shen Ru’s friend request to bow his head over the phone. With just a sliver of peripheral vision, he stole a glance at Ji Yunzhang.

Ji Yunzhang had been watching him the whole time and caught that furtive look at the corner of his eye. The other man’s lips curved up in a silent smile.

~~~

After resting at the hotel overnight, everyone gathered at the entrance the next morning, ready to head out to the recording location.

The site was once again far from any city, out on the grassland more than two hundred kilometers away.

The program team’s staff had set out the day before with all the equipment and props, racing ahead to set up an RV campsite before their arrival.

The bus departed from the hotel. Once they left the city behind, the view opened up to endless grassland blanketed in snow. In winter, the prairie was a sea of white as far as the eye could see.

Few people chose to visit the grasslands in wintertime, and none of them had ever come this season before. Captivated by the scenery, everyone turned to the windows, marveling at the beauty of nature.

Jing Li snapped a few photos, planning to post them online after filming wrapped up and share the preview with his fans.

They arrived at the campsite around one in the afternoon.

The program team had originally planned for tents, but after an on-site inspection revealed how brutally cold it was, they switched to RVs—one per couple. Each vehicle came equipped with heating, a toilet, a bathroom, a small kitchen, and a bed. Everything they could need.

It was incredibly convenient.

For this shoot, they were only staying on the grassland for two days and one night, so it differed from the last one. No tasks to earn funding this time—the fridges in the RVs were fully stocked with food for them to cook with, and the program team placed no restrictions on their activities. They were free to enjoy themselves.

It all felt so relaxed and unstructured that even Shen Ru couldn’t help sighing. “This is basically a free vacation.”

In post-production, the editors cheekily added a little flower effect next to her words, with a caption replying, “You got it!”

The five RVs for the ten guests were parked together, all identical. Everyone picked whichever they wanted, and Jing Li and Ji Yunzhang took the one on the far left.

The interior space wasn’t large, and the bed was much smaller than a hotel’s—barely a meter and thirty centimeters wide.

For a real couple, it would have been fine. A bit cramped, sure, but cuddling close made it cozy. But as a fake couple, Jing Li and Ji Yunzhang both fell silent as they stared at it.

Under the cameras, they couldn’t let it show, so the moment passed in an instant, and they struck up a conversation.

“I’ll sleep on the inside,” Jing Li said.

“All right,” Ji Yunzhang replied warmly.

“Let’s head back down for now.” He smiled. “We can’t turn in this early.”

Jing Li glanced out the window at the clear blue sky and bright sunshine. On a perfect day like this, even if they could sleep, it would be a waste to do so.

The two of them climbed back out of the RV.

Before long, the others came down too.

“I spotted some Mongolian yurts on the way in. There must be herdsmen living there—should we go say hello?” Yu Jiayuan suggested.

No one objected.

They couldn’t show up empty-handed, though. Lacking any milk, they grabbed boxes of snack gifts—another one of the show’s sponsors—and brought those along.

The yurts weren’t far, just a ten-minute walk. Since people lived there, the path’s snow had been cleared to the sides, revealing the bare grassland beneath. In winter, nothing grew; it was all stark and barren, waiting for the snow to melt before the grass could sprout again.

They had cameras in tow for filming, so Jing Li and Ji Yunzhang peeled off from the group first. They went ahead to the herdsmen’s home to check if it was okay.

The herdsmen were warm and welcoming, with no refusals.

There were seven or eight yurts in the cluster, home to more than twenty people, including five or six children—the oldest just five years old. The bigger kids were away at school.

The little ones were fascinated by all the cameras, peeking from the sidelines and dying to come closer but too shy to do so. After handing out the snack gift boxes to the herdsmen, Jing Li crouched down to play with the kids.

At first, the children hung back bashfully. But when Jing Li made candy appear out of thin air, their eyes went wide with wonder. They came scampering over, clamoring for him to do it again.

Jing Li passed out the “magicked” candies and smiled as he asked, “Who has a coin?”

A little girl with a ponytail shot her hand up. She’d just lost a front tooth and wasn’t much of a talker, but she quickly fished out a coin and offered it with a shy grin.

Jing Li placed the coin in his palm. “Watch closely now.”

The kids nodded eagerly like chicks pecking at rice, their eyes glued to his hand without blinking.

Jing Li clasped his hands together, forming loose fists. He swiftly swapped their positions, snapped his fingers with his left hand, and then opened both palms—the coin had vanished. He brought his hands together again, swapped them once more, and spread them open; there it was again.

“Wow!” they cried out in unison, their voices filled with awe.

The little girl retrieved her coin, and all the kids clustered around it, scrutinizing every inch for ages but finding no sign of trickery. When they turned back to Jing Li, their eyes sparkled like stars.

“Big brother is amazing!”

Just like that, Jing Li became the king of the kids, with them following him around like a pack of eager tails.

When he returned to Ji Yunzhang’s side, they trailed right after him. One little boy looked up at Ji Yunzhang and chirped, “Hello, uncle.”

Everyone who had distinctly heard them call Jing Li “big brother”: “…”

Jing Li clapped a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.

Ji Yunzhang reached out and lightly flicked his forehead. “That funny, huh?”

Jing Li caught his hand, shook his head with an adorably obedient expression, and said earnestly, “Nope.” But a second later, he dissolved into laughter again, his eyes curving into delighted crescent moons.

Ji Yunzhang’s gaze held a mix of helpless fondness. He gave Jing Li’s fingers a punitive squeeze or two but didn’t let go, instead cradling them warmly in his palm.

Shen Ru and Chen Xiaohan, ever the doting moms at heart, felt an instant affection for the children. They knelt down and beckoned the little boy closer, asking curiously, “How come he’s big brother and he’s uncle?” Shen Ru pointed first at Jing Li, then at Ji Yunzhang.

To her, while the two did look a bit different in age side by side, it was mostly because Jing Li was so youthful and favored bright, vibrant clothes that made him seem even younger. Ji Yunzhang couldn’t be more than twenty-five or twenty-six at most; it was his mature, steady aura that aged him up a touch.

Still, getting called “uncle” by a four- or five-year-old in your twenties was perfectly normal.

The little boy had his own impeccable logic. “My uncle wears black clothes too.”

Zhou Shi, who had overheard, pointed at himself. “What about me, then?”

He was dressed in a white puffer jacket.

“Uncle,” the boy declared.

Zhou Shi blinked in confusion. “Why’s that?”

“You’ve got a beard!”

Zhou Shi rubbed his chin. Fair enough.

He kept playing along, pointing at Yang Yi. “And him?”

“Big brother!” Yang Yi was in a blue puffer jacket.

“What about him?” Zhou Shi jabbed a thumb toward Zhou Yan, who wore black.

“Uncle, obviously.”

The little boy turned to Zhou Shi with a bright, crisp voice. “Uncle, you’re kinda dumb.”

Zhou Shi: “…”

No one could hold it in—they all burst out laughing. Chen Xiaohan collapsed straight into Zhou Shi’s arms, helpless with giggles.

The kids, utterly baffled by the adults’ hysterics, exchanged bewildered glances and scampered off.

They lingered at the herdsman’s home until nearly dusk before bidding farewell and heading out.

On the return to camp, they were treated to a breathtaking grassland sunset.

Zhou Yan watched it all unfold and felt a sudden surge of inspiration. The moment they got back, he dove into the car to work on a new song, with Yang Yi sticking by his side.

The night air turned bitterly cold. The others chatted until past seven but soon lost any interest in braving the outdoors, retreating one by one to their camper vans. Only Jing Li and Ji Yunzhang stayed outside.

Jing Li fiddled with his camera and tripod, fine-tuning the angle.

“Shooting star trails?” Ji Yunzhang asked.

“Nah, those take forever, and it’s too cold—the battery wouldn’t hold up. I just want a few shots of the stars.” Jing Li tilted his head skyward. Far from any city lights with zero pollution, the stars blazed vividly, encircling the moon and keeping it from feeling alone.

Without looking back, he added, “It’s freezing out here, Teacher Ji. You should head into the camper first.”

Ji Yunzhang didn’t budge. “No need. I’ll stay with you.”

“Might take a while.”

“That’s fine.”

Ji Yunzhang said nothing more, content to stand quietly by his side in companionable silence.