Liang Zhen stood there stiffly holding his phone, his first reaction being that he must have misheard. How could Shao Mingyin, who was always calm and gentle, be involved in a fight?

Liang Zhen started to walk out the door, or rather, he rushed. Zhao jie heard his heavy breathing and quickly explained the situation to him, urging him not to panic.

“Liang Zhen, don’t go to the city police station. He’s definitely already on his way back.” Zhao jie said over the phone. “This afternoon, we received a tip-off call about a group using drugs in a KTV. Xiao Shao and another colleague went to check it out. They didn’t catch anyone, but Xiao Shao noticed something suspicious and decided to search the room. Halfway through the search, the KTV owner came in, very hostile. The colleague later told us that the owner was extremely rude, and when nothing was found, he became even more arrogant, accusing Xiao Shao of being so thorough because he wanted drugs himself but couldn’t afford them… Xiao Shao didn’t get angry or argue until he heard that last part. Then he suddenly lost control and hit him. No one could stop him…”

“And then?” Liang Zhen asked, already almost out of the neighborhood, still running.

“Then they went to the city police station together. That happened in the afternoon. Just now, the people from the city police station told us he’s been released. Don’t worry, he’ll be back soon…”

Liang Zhen thanked Zhao jie and hung up, then tried to hail a taxi. But the neighborhood was in a remote location. He circled from one gate to another without seeing a single taxi. Standing behind the iron gate, he pulled out Shao Mingyin’s number and was about to call again when he noticed car headlights in his peripheral vision.

Liang Zhen looked up and saw a police car. He was about to run over but realized the license plate wasn’t familiar. Seeing who was behind the wheel, he stopped in his tracks.

He stood in the shadow behind the gate, unnoticed by Ling Junqian and Shao Mingyin in the car. They didn’t get out immediately. Liang Zhen couldn’t hear their conversation but saw two points of red light.

He saw Shao Mingyin lower the car window, his elbow resting there, occasionally raising his wrist to flick the cigarette ash outside. Watching the small sparks fall and extinguish, Liang Zhen realized for the first time that Shao Mingyin also smoked.

Maybe they didn’t talk at all, because Liang Zhen didn’t see any eye contact between them. When the cigarette was halfway through, Shao Mingyin got out of the car without a word, not even a wave, and walked toward the neighborhood. Liang Zhen decided he didn’t need to hide anymore and stepped out of the shadow. Shao Mingyin clearly didn’t expect to see him there, holding the half-smoked cigarette between his fingers, unsure whether to throw it away or keep smoking.

The damp cold of a southern January night was hard to bear. Although Shao Mingyin had a uniform jacket, he just had it folded over his arm instead of wearing it. Liang Zhen took off his down jacket and draped it over Shao Mingyin’s shoulders, then glanced back at Ling Junqian, who was watching them. He waved at Ling Junqian.

But Shao Mingyin still didn’t look back, walking coldly ahead. Even after they got home, he remained silent, leaving Liang Zhen full of questions but unsure where to start.

Liang Zhen was equally flustered, having never seen Shao Mingyin like this before, so at a loss that he didn’t know how to comfort him. Shao Mingyin knew his behavior was off, so he forced a smile at Liang Zhen and said he was going to take a shower.

Liang Zhen sat on the edge of the bed, listening to the sound of the water. Normally, he would have shamelessly joined Shao Mingyin in the shower, but tonight he felt too anxious, unsure of what to do or say next.

Just then, Shao Mingyin’s phone, charging on the bedside table, vibrated. Liang Zhen was about to call out to the bathroom but hesitated when he saw the caller ID. He picked up the phone and, after another vibration, answered it.

The person on the other end said “Hello?” and when there was no response, continued, “You left your ID card in my car.” Liang Zhen asked if the car was still in the same place, to which Ling Junqian, after a pause, replied yes. Liang Zhen hung up, quietly opened the door, and left without telling Shao Mingyin. When he reached the gate, Ling Junqian was indeed waiting in the car. Liang Zhen walked over and got into the passenger seat without knocking.

The car was warm with the heater on, a stark contrast to the cold outside. Ling Junqian held an ID card, handing it to him but not letting go when Liang Zhen reached for it.

So Liang Zhen let go first. Without trying to force it back, he lowered his hand and looked quietly at Ling Junqian. That gaze prompted Ling Junqian to speak. He asked Liang Zhen if he had ever seen Shao Mingyin’s ID photo.

Ling Junqian turned the ID card photo-side up, looked at it for a few seconds, then handed it to Liang Zhen, who took it. It wasn’t the first time he had handled Shao Mingyin’s ID, but it was the first time he looked at it so closely. The photo looked just like the current Shao Mingyin, giving a calm and gentle impression. The photo was taken when he was already in Wenzhou, wearing a police uniform with one star and one bar on his shoulder.

“He could have been released earlier if he had just apologized to that owner. After all, he was the one who hit first; he needed to show some remorse.”

Ling Junqian paused, looking at Liang Zhen, his Adam’s apple moving. “But Shao Mingyin refused.”

“I had a one-on-one talk with him, telling him that the owner deserved to be hit for saying those things, but as a police officer, he can’t break the law. Do you know what he said to me?”

Liang Zhen shook his head, maintaining eye contact with Ling Junqian, who eventually looked away. He then asked how much Shao Mingyin had told him about three years ago.

“He only said he was undercover for three years and lost his parents during that time. After he came out, he was assigned to Wenzhou for safety reasons.” Liang Zhen thought for a moment and asked Ling Junqian, “Is it really safe for him in Wenzhou?”

“Very safe,” Ling Junqian replied. “The operation was highly successful, and the drug trafficking ring was completely dismantled. All the main criminals were sentenced to death. Although Shao Mingyin wasn’t the only undercover agent, his contribution was the greatest. The school even gave him an outstanding graduate medal,” Ling Junqian smiled wryly, “He only studied for a year, so he didn’t care about such an award.”

But his smile quickly froze, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. He had a lot to say but no clear way to start, becoming a bit irritable as he continued.

“You should see his old photos, if there are any left,” Ling Junqian repeated. “Six or seven years ago, when I first met him, he wasn’t like he is now. He was nineteen then.”

“Nineteen, Shao Mingyin at nineteen,” Ling Junqian reminisced, “He was impulsive and stubborn. During military training, when the instructor bullied his roommate, he stood up for him. Even if he was punished with running until 2 a.m., he wouldn’t beg for mercy. His personality made him liked by many but also disliked by others. Those who disliked him reported his sexual orientation to the school. Despite his excellent grades, the school made both of us write self-criticism letters, but Shao Mingyin refused. Not only did he refuse, he declared in front of the leaders that he had done nothing wrong.”

“He wouldn’t compromise at all. At nineteen…” Ling Junqian laughed, recalling the scene. “We didn’t know he hadn’t written the self-criticism. After I read mine, Shao Mingyin stood in my place, holding a blank paper, and said he would never apologize for being gay. He didn’t even tremble while saying that. He wasn’t afraid at all. Seeing him like that, I felt I should do something too, to be brave like him.”

Ling Junqian took a deep breath, saying he wanted to be brave like nineteen-year-old Shao Mingyin.

“Later, because of his refusal, the issue escalated. When only one of us could be protected, I submitted the application to go undercover first, but it ended up being him. If I had known what would happen, I would never have let him go, even if it meant dying in those three years. After he came out, I moved to Wenzhou with him, hoping to help him somehow since he was alone. But eventually, we lost contact. Whenever I think of him, I still see the nineteen-year-old Shao Mingyin. That’s also when we first met; he looked at my name tag and said it was interesting, ‘Sun and moon shining bright.’ Nineteen-year-old Shao Mingyin would look at people with a proud tilt of his chin, just like…”

“Just like today. I asked him to apologize, and he took off his uniform jacket, saying he wouldn’t be a cop if he had to apologize to someone like that. He threw the jacket at me, saying he didn’t want to be a cop three years ago.”

“Three years ago…” Liang Zhen began, his throat dry and his voice hoarse. He asked, “What exactly happened three years ago?”

Ling Junqian first shook his head, muttering that it should be up to Shao Mingyin to decide whether to tell him. But since Shao Mingyin was willing to return to Shijiazhuang, he thought Liang Zhen should and needed to know.

“Some things can’t be written in the files. For instance, three years ago, during an interrogation, Shao Mingyin suddenly grabbed a colleague’s gun and rushed in. The bullet was already chambered, and if it weren’t for the interrogator inside stopping him, he would have fired that shot.”

“I know he hates drug dealers and people who use drugs,” Liang Zhen said.

“But do you know why he hates them so much?”

Liang Zhen sat there, not nodding or shaking his head. When Ling Junqian spoke again, he felt as if he was being judged.

“He told you his parents died in an incident where a buyer hijacked a school bus, right? That was actually a mistake. The police initially intended to control a buyer to cooperate with the subsequent operation, but things went wrong, and the buyer ended up hijacking the school bus.”

The muscles at the corner of Ling Junqian’s mouth twitched a few times before he continued, saying the information about that buyer was provided by Shao Mingyin.

“Not only that, Shao Mingyin was the one who made the delivery during that transaction. The person who later lost control and almost fired the gun was the one who went with him. And when the school bus was hijacked—”

“Stop…” Liang Zhen could guess what happened next, “It wasn’t his fault.”

“Of course, it wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t expose himself. Any exposure would have massive repercussions. If he had been exposed, what would have happened to the other undercover agents? What would have happened to the operation about to be completed? Even if his parents were saved, what then?” Ling Junqian spoke so fluently, as if he had reassured someone many times before.

“He couldn’t expose himself,” Ling Junqian said. He looked ahead, knowing which light in which building was Shao Mingyin’s.

Looking at that light, he said, “Back then, Shao Mingyin could only watch helplessly.”

When Liang Zhen returned to the room, Shao Mingyin had already showered. He wasn’t lying on the bed but was crouched down, refolding Liang Zhen’s clothes in the suitcase. When he saw Liang Zhen come in, he said that folding this way would save more space, and Liang Zhen could put more things in.

“No thermal pants? You’re going out for over half a month, and it’s cold everywhere. Aren’t you afraid of getting rheumatoid arthritis at twenty?” Shao Mingyin nagged as he folded two pairs of thermal pants and added a coat before closing the suitcase and pushing it to Liang Zhen.

Liang Zhen grabbed the suitcase handle and pushed it aside, revealing the folding camp bed. He hadn’t used it in a long time, but now, looking at the dusty metal frame, he only snapped out of it when Shao Mingyin called his name.

Liang Zhen walked over. The room was small, and after just a couple of steps, he was in front of Shao Mingyin. Before long, Liang Zhen sat down too, hunching his back and stretching his neck to make eye contact with Shao Mingyin.

“What’s wrong?” Shao Mingyin smiled as if nothing had happened, pinching Liang Zhen’s cheek.

“Big star, you can’t go to Hangzhou with that face tomorrow,” Shao Mingyin said, “Smile for me.”

Liang Zhen did smile, a weak attempt, as he held Shao Mingyin’s hand and placed it on his own lap. Looking up, his eyes were red.

“What’s wrong…” Shao Mingyin knew Liang Zhen had talked to Ling Junqian and asked, “What did Ling Junqian tell you?”

“He told me he also slept here,” Liang Zhen pointed behind him. “That folding bed was his. The jealousy factory is blowing up again.”

Though he joked, it didn’t lighten the mood. As his trembling fingers touched the old scars, Liang Zhen’s tears fell on them.

The tear was so hot that it made Shao Mingyin shiver, recalling the pain. He saw himself blending into the crowd, witnessing the buyer hijacking the school bus. As he turned away, he heard his mother’s voice but couldn’t show any hesitation.

Every time Shao Mingyin remembered that day, he felt his father had seen him. When relentless work couldn’t erase that memory and counseling couldn’t resolve it, his insomnia worsened. He’d cut his palms with sharp objects, trying to ease the guilt and helplessness. If Ling Junqian hadn’t discovered it early and stayed with him for a week, the injuries might have been more severe.

After that week, Shao Mingyin became quiet, no longer as sharp as before, having paid a steep price. He became gentle, always smiling, but he knew deep inside.

He was trapped in that day, the last day of his parents’ lives, where he, their son, was not only indifferent but also an accomplice.

He stayed stuck until he met Liang Zhen, whose arrival changed the monotonous rhythm of his life. Facing the past or future, Liang Zhen gave him the courage.

Now, the boy held his right hand to his cheek, saying if he didn’t want to go, he’d come back right after the performance in Shijiazhuang.

“I’ve already bought the tickets. It was hard to get this leave,” since Liang Zhen knew, Shao Mingyin showed relief. “Besides, I want to see you perform in Shijiazhuang.”

“Stop crying,” Shao Mingyin wiped his face, “Your fans would be heartbroken to see you like this.”

“And you?” Liang Zhen asked, “What about you?”

“Me?” Shao Mingyin’s hand was still on Liang Zhen’s cheek. He stroked it and said he was also heartbroken.

Hearing this, Liang Zhen stopped crying, his face red, but holding back tears made snot run. He sniffed, then exhaled slowly, blowing a bubble from his left nostril.

With blurry vision, he didn’t see it clearly, but Shao Mingyin popped it for him. Realizing his embarrassment, Liang Zhen laughed but quickly stopped, feeling it was inappropriate.

“Don’t worry about me,” Shao Mingyin said, “A big star should laugh happily and go on tour joyfully.”

“But…”

“No buts.” Shao Mingyin said, lowering his hand. He rubbed his palm, looking at Liang Zhen. He said as long as you—

“As long as you smile, I will be okay.”