Liang Zhen didn’t open the door; instead, he retreated to the bed and gently guided Shao Mingyin to sit in a spot where the door wasn’t visible.

“Don’t panic, everything’s fine.”

“He is…”

Liang Zhen nodded, saying he really was his dad.

“He came specifically to see me today,” Shao Mingyin started to stand up, “He definitely doesn’t know you’re back already. He came—”

“Shao Mingyin…” Liang Zhen held his shoulder, then reached out to touch his face, “Let me talk to him.”

With that said, Liang Zhen turned to leave. Shao Mingyin grabbed his wrist, but when Liang Zhen turned his head, their eyes met, and Shao Mingyin couldn’t immediately find the words to say.

“Don’t… don’t tell your dad…”

“Don’t worry,” Liang Zhen slowly released Shao Mingyin’s hand.

Outside, uninvited, Liang Chongwei was still standing at the door. He knew the person he wanted to see was inside. If Shao Mingyin hadn’t come to open the door yet, Liang Chongwei didn’t mind calling him directly.

But before he took out his phone, the door lock finally made a sound. Even though the door only opened slowly, Liang Chongwei’s face showed a certain inevitability. But upon seeing who was standing in front of him, his expressionless face softened slightly.

After the door lock fell again, not only did Liang Zhen not invite Liang Chongwei in, he came out himself. The father and son, who hadn’t seen each other for half a year, stood in the corridor like this. One didn’t know what to say, and the other didn’t expect to see the other here.

“Is he inside?” Liang Chongwei’s voice was steady, more like a confirmation that someone was inside.

Shao Mingyin was inside.

“Yes,” Liang Zhen nodded. “When did you arrive?”

“This morning’s flight,” Liang Chongwei was getting old, and without proper rest, he couldn’t be as energetic as a young person. Liang Zhen could tell.

“Why don’t you go back to your place and rest for a bit?”

“Liang Zhen—”

“Dad.”

After that “Dad,” both Liang Chongwei and Liang Zhen were stunned. It had been a long time since Liang Zhen had called him that. Then, Liang Zhen accompanied Liang Chongwei to the hotel where he was staying. The father and son sat face-to-face in the coffee shop on the second floor. The passing waiters and diners occasionally glanced at them, unable to guess their relationship.

But if they looked closely, they could still conclude that these two were father and son. Although their styles of dressing were different, their facial features were very similar.

Liang Chongwei glanced at the time on his watch. He and Liang Zhen had been sitting in silence for five minutes already. If this were before, let alone sitting silently for five minutes, just seeing him would have triggered Liang Zhen’s explosive temper.

But now, Liang Zhen was sitting in front of him. Liang Chongwei hadn’t seen him for half a year, and the changes in Liang Zhen were evident to him. He had changed his hairstyle, grown taller, but more importantly, he had become more composed. He wasn’t like before, a walking powder keg just waiting to explode. For the past half a year, Liang Chongwei hadn’t actively contacted Liang Zhen, but that didn’t mean he had truly left his only son to fend for himself. Of course, he would still pay attention to Liang Zhen’s every move, knowing that he had indeed succeeded in rap and made money.

But knowing and seeing were two completely different experiences. When Liang Zhen was really in front of him, Liang Chongwei looked at his calmer son and unexpectedly didn’t want to initiate a conversation to break this unprecedented harmony.

It was Liang Zhen who asked him first, asking why he had come to find Shao Mingyin.

Liang Chongwei said, “You should be asking yourself that.”

“Me?” Liang Zhen pointed to himself, not particularly serious, “I’m not ready to bring him to meet you guys yet.”

Liang Chongwei frowned, “You still want to bring him home?”

“Why not?” Liang Zhen didn’t think there was anything wrong, “Isn’t this what you taught me? Men should be brave and responsible, and you shouldn’t hide anything in relationships.”

“When did I teach you all this?”

“When I was young,” Liang Zhen said matter-of-factly, “Don’t you remember?”

“But I also didn’t teach you to bring a man home.”

Liang Chongwei thought that after he said this, Liang Zhen would think about it and consider it seriously, but he didn’t expect Liang Zhen to ask him how he knew.

“Do you really think that once you left, no one at home cared about you?” Liang Chongwei didn’t hide anything, “Your grandfather was the first to know you were living with that cop. At that time, no one thought much of it. They were just men; who would think in that direction? But a few days ago, you said online that you had a partner,” Liang Chongwei pointed to Lily’s Weibo post, “Liang Zhen, you’ve been living and eating with him for so many days, where did this start?”

Liang Zhen listened without getting angry or upset. Instead, he replied, “You even search my name online.”

“Liang Zhen.”

“Dad,” Liang Zhen said, “even though you don’t say it, you do care about me, right?”

Liang Chongwei remained silent.

“Since you’re paying attention, you must have noticed my changes. You should also know…” Liang Zhen smiled, “Without Shao Mingyin, I wouldn’t be who I am today. Without him, I wouldn’t be sitting here calmly talking to you.”

Liang Zhen began to recount the moments between him and Shao Mingyin, from their first meeting to the present. Liang Chongwei had also watched that rap battle competition—it was his turning point in his perception of rap and the reason he hadn’t tried to hinder Liang Zhen anymore. Liang Zhen recounted the true scene at the time, explaining how Shao Mingyin stood below the stage, tapping the floor, and how he looked at him. There was too much encouragement and support; he couldn’t finish it all.

“But is that love?” Liang Chongwei leaned forward, closing the distance between them.

“Liang Zhen,” he emphasized, as if hoping his son could return to the right path, “is this love?”

He might be your muse, inspiring your creativity, but like most artists who won’t have just one muse or one theme in their lives, as a father, he worried his son was too young and had mistakenly equated the thrill of creation with love.

And love is such a fleeting thing.

As a businessman who believes in equivalent exchange, Liang Chongwei was dismissive of love. To him, it was just a game for young people to pass the time and their youth. In this pragmatic world of gains and losses, love wasn’t worth much and couldn’t be exchanged for anything else.

Especially not love with another man.

Over the past six months, Liang Chongwei had come to accept that rap was not a crime. If Liang Zhen loved it so much, he’d let him be. If Liang Zhen didn’t want the money and material wealth he had earned for him, he’d let him earn his own. But homosexuality was something Liang Chongwei could not accept. He didn’t view sexual orientation as a matter of family reputation, but he knew that in a world full of prejudice, Liang Zhen’s future would be challenging if he bore that label.

Liang Zhen wasn’t originally gay. Liang Chongwei believed that the camaraderie and conquest he felt with the same sex had temporarily blinded Liang Zhen, creating the illusion of love. He hoped his son would turn back before it was too late.

“Liang Zhen,” Liang Chongwei said, “that isn’t love.”

If it had been the old Liang Zhen, hearing such a definitive denial from Liang Chongwei, he might have flipped the table and stormed out in anger.

But today, Liang Zhen neither flipped the table nor argued with Liang Chongwei. When he spoke again, there was no suppressed anger in his tone.

He asked Liang Chongwei if he was free the evening after tomorrow.

Liang Chongwei knew he had a meeting then, but he still said he was free.

“Then I’ll invite you to my performance. My first tour’s final show is in Wenzhou,” Liang Zhen said. “You’ve never seen my live performance, right? Maybe you’ll find the answer after watching.”

Liang Chongwei didn’t respond, but his attitude showed he agreed.

“Could you avoid contacting him for the next few days? If you really want to see him, I can have him accompany you during the performance,” Liang Zhen scratched his head. “But meeting alone is out of the question. Don’t make it like a scene from a novel or drama, handing over a blank check and telling him to leave your son.”

Liang Chongwei didn’t expect Liang Zhen to joke at this time, smiling as he said, “Alright.”

“By the way, I have something for you.” Liang Zhen reached into his pocket and took out something he had pulled from his suitcase before leaving. It was a plastic bag with a piece of cardboard and three bamboo crafts, two of which were colored, bamboo dragonflies.

“After visiting Jiaxing, I went to Tongxiang with a friend. When I saw this in Wuzhen, I remembered how you used to take me to catch dragonflies as a kid, so I bought it.” Liang Zhen said while opening the plastic bag and asked Liang Chongwei to extend his finger.

“This is called ‘Dragonfly Touches the Water,'” Liang Zhen placed the tip of the bamboo dragonfly’s mouth on Liang Chongwei’s fingertip. Although there was no other point of support, the dragonfly, due to its wings’ angle being less than 180 degrees and its center of gravity being at the tip, wouldn’t fall no matter where it was placed.

“Fun, right? Amazing, isn’t it?” Liang Zhen laughed as he saw the dragonfly on his well-dressed father’s fingertip, even tapping the dragonfly’s tail, making it wobble but not fall.

“The one without color is a pen holder. You can keep it in your office, and place the two dragonflies on the branches beside it.” Liang Zhen demonstrated and then put the dragonfly and pen holder back, handing the plastic bag to Liang Chongwei, “This is for you.”

Liang Chongwei hesitated at first but then accepted it. Undoubtedly, it was the cheapest gift he had ever received, but it was also the first gift Liang Zhen had given him in years, bought with his own money.

“See you the day after tomorrow then!” Liang Zhen didn’t give him a ticket but got up, tilting his chin up with a cool smile. “When you get to the live house, tell the ticket staff you’re Liang Zhen’s father, and they’ll take you to VIP.”

“Okay,” Liang Chongwei stood up too, looking at the young man who had grown taller than himself, “see you then.”

After saying goodbye to his father, Liang Zhen quickly returned to Shao Mingyin. He told Shao Mingyin about Liang Chongwei’s attitude—not outright opposing, but definitely not supporting.

This was much better than Shao Mingyin had expected. Which parents could accept their originally straight child falling in love with the same sex? Liang Chongwei not confronting him directly was already very polite. But this still brought out the psychological burden Shao Mingyin had from the beginning. He was alone, but Liang Zhen had family.

“Don’t overthink it,” Liang Zhen seemed unaffected, completely unflustered. He pulled the suitcase from the entrance, opened it in front of Shao Mingyin, and began taking things out one by one. As he took them out, he introduced them, saying things like the vacuum-packed Jiaxing zongzi was bought from Wufangzhai, and the osmanthus cake was found at a shop by West Lake… Besides local specialties, Liang Zhen had bought many little trinkets, all of which he gave to Shao Mingyin. Shao Mingyin wanted to tell him he was wasting money, but couldn’t, because all these were for him.

Shao Mingyin asked, “You bought so much for me. What about yourself?”

“Me?” Liang Zhen smiled, “I have you, don’t I?”

Shao Mingyin’s frown, caused by Liang Chongwei’s visit, smoothed out at Liang Zhen’s words. Liang Zhen continued to reassure him, saying not to worry.

“Don’t worry,” Liang Zhen said, steady and firm with immense confidence. “I want both you and music, and I can have both.”