Chapter 31

This is a classic pop oldie, and it has a very Christmas atmosphere, so once the melody started, it immediately ignited the mood.

The lead singer wore a vintage black shirt, with a voice that was very good, indeterminate in gender, and had a hint of childish nasal resonance. His singing skill was excellent.

Shang Mingbao quickly understood why this band had a long-term commercial contract here. Apart from the standout performance of the lead singer, the guitar, keyboard, and bass were also noteworthy. However, in this song, nothing could overshadow the presence of the final set of drums on stage.

The Asian drummer wearing a fisherman’s hat and mask had a distinctive style. Despite the song being a passionate love ballad, his drumming was powerful, accurate, and steady, perfectly controlling the rhythm of the entire performance. Yet his posture was relaxed, giving the impression of being effortlessly in control.

Shang Mingbao’s fingers gripped the base of her glass, and she couldn’t bring herself to take a sip, her gaze uncontrollably fixed on him.

She had been watching for too long.

She wasn’t sure if it was just her imagination, but it seemed… the drummer’s eyes casually lifted from under the brim of his hat and then, very naturally, he twirled his drumsticks, performing a series of seamless fills.

These fills gave the entire interlude a fresh feel, something never played during rehearsals before. The lead singer, holding the microphone stand, glanced at Xiang Feiran.

It was clear now; the drummer’s girlfriend was indeed in the audience.

As the song ended, the audience reacted enthusiastically, and Xiang Feiran picked up a bottle of mineral water and stood up.

Was he going to drink water? When he had drunk water earlier, he had faced away, towards the side where there were speakers and messy lighting fixtures blocking the view, which was Shang Mingbao’s blind spot. She was now slightly anxious, hoping to catch a glimpse of his real face.

But Xiang Feiran went backstage, finished the remaining half of the bottle in one go, threw it in the trash, and then removed his sweatshirt, revealing a plain white, loose-fitting T-shirt.

Drumming was physically demanding, and he performed noticeably more seriously today.

When he returned to the stage with a new bottle of water, the lead singer was skillfully engaging with the audience: “Although I don’t know who the mute is dedicating this to, if you enjoyed the performance, send your enthusiasm and kisses to him.”

Facing the audience’s cheering, Xiang Feiran picked up his drumsticks and went straight into an impromptu solo without any unnecessary words or actions.

The lead singer gave a thumbs-up: “See? I told you the mute has his own merits, didn’t I?”

The audience laughed.

This solo lasted five minutes, with rich segments and high skill, evolving into a solo battle with the bass joining in the latter half, setting the mood for the bar well into the late night.

Wu Baiyan called out to Shang Mingbao, asking if she was leaving.

Shang Mingbao checked her watch, “It’s only nine.”

She showed no intention of leaving.

Wu Baiyan stared at her with a dark expression, half-seriously asking, “Do you want me to get you his contact information?”

Shang Mingbao was surprised and slightly parted her lips, “No need. Why would you think that?”

She was merely curious and appreciative of the Asian drummer because of past events. If it were before, she might have directly gone backstage to buy him a drink.

But now, she didn’t need to.

Wu Baiyan, noticing she wasn’t lying, relaxed his awkwardly tense posture slightly and then asked, “Any plans for Christmas Eve?”

Shang Mingbao hadn’t decided yet and replied, “I’ll probably be with Liao Yunuo.”

Liao Yunuo had many social events, so she never had to worry about not having a place to go.

Wu Baiyan originally wanted to ask her out, but upon hearing this, he wasn’t in a hurry. He was likely to be at Liao Yunuo’s events too. He had prepared a New Year’s gift, knowing that Shang Mingbao liked jewelry. He chose a piece from Valeridge’s New Year limited edition series: a ring with intricately set petals, adorned with dozens or even hundreds of diamonds—he couldn’t remember exactly, but it was quite eye-catching and perfect to pair with evening wear.

After the solo on stage, they played five consecutive Led Zeppelin songs until the last one, “All My Love,” ended and transitioned into the final song of the first half, “Ode to Rain.” This song, primarily featuring guitar, only introduced the drumming in the latter part when the arrangement became more complex.

Xiang Feiran waited for his solo segment, his forehead damp from sweat, hair falling over his eyes, dressed in a plain white T-shirt.

“These are the seasons of emotion.”

At the end of the first half, he naturally bathed in the applause, like a deep sunset rain falling in the song.

Shang Mingbao refocused her attention and wanted to ask Wu Baiyan about the clients’ preferences. Through Wendy, she realized the importance of catering to preferences in service industries. Her professionalism should come after addressing preferences, otherwise, it would just be meaningless showiness. She even began to recall a few salespeople who left a good impression on her, analyzing their actions and techniques.

Backstage in the changing room.

Xiang Feiran was surrounded and couldn’t escape the barrage of questions and teasing after finishing drumming. The noise felt like eight hundred ducks quarreling in his ears.

“Which one is the ex-girlfriend, and which one is the current one?”

“I checked, and there wasn’t a single girl who came alone. Fess up.”

“You brat, eyeing someone else’s bowl?”

Xiang Feiran was annoyed by the phrase “someone else’s bowl,” glanced at the bassist, and got up from the sofa as if reminded.

A few minutes later.

A waiter arrived at Shang Mingbao’s table, placing a drink next to her.

It was a cocktail with a gradient color like an equatorial sunset, with blue, cone-shaped droplets like falling stars, embodying the essence of a sunlit rain.

Shang Mingbao thought he might have mixed up the orders and smiled, gesturing for him to leave, “You might have made a mistake.”

The waiter gathered the tray and smiled, “This is from the drummer. It’s our daily limited signature cocktail, ‘The Rain Song’—just like the song just played.”

Under the cocktail was a hard paper card with two lines of lyrics:

「you are the sunlight in my growing

so little warmth I‘ve felt before」

Wu Baiyan choked on his drink, reacting similarly to Shang Mingbao—both turning to look at the stage.

Instruments were quietly hanging, and the drummer, still hidden under his hat and mask, leaned against the backstage door with one hand in his pocket. Noticing Shang Mingbao’s gaze, he lifted the bottle of mineral water in his right hand, as if to toast her.

Seeing his nonchalant gaze, Shang Mingbao’s face suddenly flushed, unable to react otherwise, she instinctively turned away. After catching her breath, she turned back and pretended to be calm, nodding slightly with a small smile.

Xiang Feiran’s lips also curved up slightly under his mask, then he turned and left.

Wu Baiyan, with a dark face, said word by word, “Is he treating me like I’m dead?”

Shang Mingbao’s face was still warm. She glared at him, “What’s it to you?”

She took a sip of the cocktail named “The Rain Song” and picked up her phone.

At that moment, a call came in.

The number on the caller ID was strange, clearly a satellite phone.

Was it Feiran’s brother?

Shang Mingbao’s heart raced, and she nearly knocked over her drink as she stood up, gripping her phone tightly.

Wu Baiyan looked up, “What’s up?”

Shang Mingbao muttered, “Excuse me, I need to take a call.”

The bar was small and noisy everywhere.

Wu Baiyan looked at her curiously, “Do you need to avoid me? Just take it here.”

Shang Mingbao considered that if she delayed even a few seconds, Feiran might hang up, but she didn’t sit down. Instead, she stood between the chair and the table, bracing herself against the edge, and swiped to answer.

Xiang Feiran, wearing a parka, stood at the back alley entrance, asking, “Are you outside?”

“No,” Shang Mingbao said obediently, glancing at Wu Baiyan, “With… a friend.”

Xiang Feiran removed the cigarette from his mouth, “Which friend?”

“Um…” Shang Mingbao hesitated.

He knew Wu Baiyan and had seen their ambiguous interactions when drunk. Although they were definitely nothing serious, Shang Mingbao still felt guilty and quietly said, “A female friend, a classmate.”

Xiang Feiran asked slowly, “Which female classmate is over six feet tall, wears size forty basketball shoes, and orders candles at dinner? I thought she might be your new boyfriend.”

Shang Mingbao: “…”

Her brain malfunctioned, blanked out, and she was sweating physically.

Xiang Feiran flicked the cigarette butt, which arced through the air, falling into the snow on the ground and extinguishing.

“Back door, come see me.”

He hung up, leaving Shang Mingbao staring, her inner heat surging before her awareness.

Without time to think further, she turned and walked towards the corridor.

It was only a few meters, but she was breathless. Her breathing was rapid, her chest was heaving, her eyes were unfocused, and she only knew to follow the green exit signs, past booths, backstage, dining area, and restroom, until she reached the kitchen. Then, with a loud bang, she pushed open the cold iron fire door—

The narrow back alley was quiet, covered in heavy snow that was already up to her calves.

Shang Mingbao’s gaze was unfocused as she swallowed, slowly regaining her focus.

The man who had played the drums so freely on stage now stood before her, hands in the pockets of his athletic pants. Without his fisherman’s hat or mask, his face, which could quicken anyone’s heartbeat at any time, was bathed in the dim yellow light, casually but intently looking at her.

Shang Mingbao was caught off guard, breathing heavily, and instinctively smiled, exhaling a puff of white breath.

She was foolish, forgetting she was only wearing a sleeveless knitted top with cut-out shoulders, but she didn’t feel the cold.

She took a couple of steps and called out, “Feiran-ge?”

It felt like a dream.

Before she could even reach him, he suddenly pulled her close.

Shang Mingbao stumbled, falling into his familiar embrace, and then her back was pressed against the wall.

Xiang Feiran’s arm was protectively around her back, and he held her wrist firmly. His eyes, once nonchalant on stage, now looked at her with intense interest. He whispered, “Who taught you to be so polite to me, hmm? Changing your heart so quickly?”

His gaze was far more penetrating and intense than when he was on stage, almost tangible.

Just being stared at by him made Shang Mingbao feel as if her body wasn’t her own.

She tilted her head back, opening her lips. She wanted to say “no,” but there was no chance. Before she could speak, he sealed her lips with his.

His kiss was heated, with the warm scent of tobacco mingling with his fingers on her cheek.

Xiang Feiran didn’t kiss her for long, separating their lips quickly. It seemed the kiss was just to quench a thirst, a desperate longing that had tormented him for half a month.

Shang Mingbao gazed at him with confusion and a hint of infatuation she wasn’t even aware of.

It really was him. The man who had been missing for half a month, supposedly somewhere in the mountains, forests, and snow.

“Why did you come back early?”

Her lips, speaking through the snowy backdrop, resembled roses. Xiang Feiran restrained himself from kissing her again immediately and answered briefly, “The weather was bad.”

“Didn’t tell me you were back…”

“Was planning to find you at school tomorrow,” Xiang Feiran’s palm caressed her neck, his fingers rubbing her earlobe, his lips close to her ear with a meaningful tone, “Who knew I’d see you on a date here?”

Shang Mingbao’s heart tightened, “It’s not like that; he helped me with some things…”

It was a long story, and she was momentarily incoherent.

“Guessing you’re jealous, then.”

He had been jealous all night. Even though he knew it was unnecessary, his emotions overshadowed his reason. Heaven knew he had restrained himself for a whole hour, wanting to immediately take her away from the venue.

Shang Mingbao fell silent, after a while mumbling, “What right do you have to be jealous…”

“Even a date has basic human rights.” Xiang Feiran embraced Shang Mingbao, his voice murmuring by her ear, “Looking at the drummer for so long, what, are you interested in him?”

Was this how he handled jealousy?

Shang Mingbao gently pushed against his chest, her face and ears flushed, “It’s because he reminds me of you…”

Xiang Feiran laughed softly, his sharp eyes under lowered lids peering into her eyes, “Do you know what kind of look you have when you look at him?”

Under his gaze, Shang Mingbao felt dazed, unable to think clearly, “…What kind of look?”

Instead of answering, Xiang Feiran kissed her.

What kind of look? The kind that makes one want to kiss her.

He pressed his palm against the back of her head, his tongue intruding unabashedly.

Shang Mingbao shivered in his embrace but made a great effort to lift her head, meeting his kiss. Her hands clutched his clothing tightly.

Her tongue was drenched with their shared moisture.

Perhaps because she was trembling too much, Xiang Feiran stopped, noticing she wasn’t wearing a coat, her body was cool enough to be in summer.

His gaze was darker than the night, and he asked softly, “Why did you run out without a coat?”

He asked, but he had no intention of letting her go. Instead, he opened his parka and held her tightly, lifting her chin to touch the moisture on her lips.

The kiss only paused for a second. Shang Mingbao turned her face, tilting her head for another kiss, and he leaned down to continue. Their lips pressed together eagerly, and their arms tightened around each other as if they wanted to merge into one another’s bodies.

Xiang Feiran’s body was warm, carrying the residual heat from performing on stage. His hand pressed against her spine, grasping her waist. Her waist was very slender. The first time he lost control, he had pressed against her, but at that time, his rationality was intact and there was the barrier of sleepwear, so he restrained himself from touching her. Today was different; her knitted top clung to her curves, and the deep blue high-waisted jeans hugged her hips. As she stood on tiptoe, her waist pressed against him, making her hips rise and fill out more.

Xiang Feiran summoned all of his remaining self-control to keep his hands from moving downward.

But he still hurt her.

Hearing her let out a pained “mm,” his kiss stopped, his lips parted, and he looked at her with intense desire in his eyes.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, his clearly defined fingers having just shown their strength, veins bulging.

Shang Mingbao furrowed her delicate brows, and the moisture in her eyes was unclear, as to whether it was from pain or something else.

“…You’re so strong.” She wrapped her long, slender arms around his waist, speaking softly as if in a daze, her body burning from his heat.

Xiang Feiran’s breath mingled with hers, his prominent Adam’s apple moving, his voice hoarse: “Where?”

It almost seemed like he was asking on purpose.

Shang Mingbao glared at him and said, “Your hand.”

Xiang Feiran covered her eyes and apologized, “I just finished drumming; I didn’t control my strength well.”

You’re lying. Clearly, during drumming, you controlled your strength with ease, your wrists moving freely in all directions. Now you say you couldn’t control it…

Shang Mingbao gently said, “You’re lying.”

Xiang Feiran chuckled softly, his lips curved, and promised in a low voice, “I won’t do it again next time.”

The second half of the performance was about to start. Shang Mingbao was more worried about him being late and urged him to go back.

Oh, heaven, don’t let anyone find us here and see how he has kissed her.

Xiang Feiran tried hard not to let his deep breath be heard by her.

With rare discomfort in his voice, he said, “Let’s wait a little longer.”

“Wait… wait for what?” Shang Mingbao asked in confusion, her palm pressed against his chest. “Should I go first? To avoid being seen by others.”

Xiang Feiran had come out in a hurry, wearing only a white T-shirt. When Shang Mingbao had just hugged him around the waist, things already felt a bit off. After such a prolonged and intense kiss, at this moment, being touched by her soft, boneless palm, all his muscles tensed up, and the uncontrolled soreness surged from his spine.

Shang Mingbao not only didn’t push him away but was instead pulled back into his embrace.

“Two minutes,” Xiang Feiran’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

After a couple of seconds, he kissed the top of her head again and said softly, “Don’t move around, or it won’t end well.”

As a long-time 5G surfing girl, Shang Mingbao understood immediately. Her mind exploded with tension and she felt lost, instinctively lowering her head—

Xiang Feiran held her neck and decisively kissed her.

He was more nervous than she was.

“Mmm…” Shang Mingbao’s pupils dilated, she struggled weakly, her vision obscured by his hand covering her eyes.

He sighed helplessly, “It’s very embarrassing, little sister.”