The fickle autumn rain

He traced circles on my body with his boyish fingers. With every round, it brought a wave—like the unpredictable autumn wind outside the Beijing window—an endless storm sweeping over the distant sea. The part of him most like me listened to the faint sobbing of the deep night, lost on the shallow shore, sinking with the rising tide into the murmur of the sea, descending into a damp, scorching heat that had no bottom. In that depth of wet love, no one could hurt us.

But this time, his pride was torn—just slightly—revealing a slow, quiet sadness. Compared to this deep wound, the fragile moment when he injured his hand in New York feels like nothing now.

I had never seen him cry. Even on those pitch-black autumn nights, my ears couldn't make out the sound of his weeping. Only when my face was close to his could I feel the cold, slick wetness on his skin. His tears didn't pour—they fell one by one, gradually shifting from broken drops into a continuous stream, forming a thin veil between our faces. In my feverish desire, it became a murky kind of tease. I tried to push it aside to see him clearly, but soon it would return, separating me from his emotions once again. He remained as elusive as ever. And yet, I held a unique key—the only one—that could unlock his most secret lock.

All his true feelings were locked away. When I opened that box, he would confide in me—his childhood loneliness, the ecstasy of his peak moments, the isolation of drifting, the quiet joys of ordinary life, the sorrow of heartbreak, the intoxication of wild pleasure, and the shame of sudden collapse—all told in hushed murmurs.

I wanted so badly to tell him, but I couldn't bear to. So I said it in my heart:

"But Xixi, I've known you since we were little. I fell madly in love with you. At first, I thought you were just a chosen one, always doing as you pleased. But now I understand—you've exiled yourself into the extremes of pure love. When you fall in love, you lose all your pride. That untouchable mask of arrogance—it's only a disguise. When you love someone, their glory becomes yours, their sins become yours. They leave, and you vanish, recklessly charging through a world of excess. You're like a blank canvas of an angel, letting God paint freely on you. His rain and thunder make you tremble. You're like a flower—quivering in full sunlight, withering in the storm. And all of this… it's your choice. You put yourself in danger, hungry for conquest. You're bold and curious, confident and unruly. I wonder—with your gifts, what kind of grace will you show when the sky finally clears? Xixi, let me stay by your side, until the day I can watch your joys and sorrows become ordinary."

It was as if he heard the words in my heart. He held me even tighter in silence. My chest soaked up the tears on his lashes, and the rest of my body was covered in his sweat. The night rain kept falling—its ticking echoing the fluids spilling from every crevice of his body, all pouring without end. I thought of earlier that night, when I watched him walking home from afar. The rain knocked the silk tree blossoms to the ground, one landing on his shoulder before sliding off with the heavy water, vanishing into the soil.

Now he trembled, just like that flower. I opened up, soft as mud, to receive his fall. Before the petals met the earth, our bodies had already become instruments—carriers of both pleasure and pain. The filthiest thoughts and the deepest love flashed through my mind, bursting like fireworks in an instant.

In love's embrace, even the lowliest of people can savor noble joy, and the noblest can taste vulgar pleasure.

Time's elasticity is revealed in these moments. After everything ends, and the thoughts return, they feel as if they transcend the speed of light—existing in the past, present, and future all at once. As I wait for his breathing to steady, we return to the present. He gathers all his emotions back into himself, falls silent, carefully masking the sadness he accidentally let slip. He lights up his tear-streaked face with a slim cigarette holder, its flame flickering faintly. That expression on his face—it's his entire pride.

"…" He exhales in a long, drawn-out breath.

"…" I want to say something.

"F*** your mother." He curses suddenly, smacking my chest with the back of his hand. "All these years, and still not a word. Every time we meet, it's straight to bed."

He gets up to fetch an ashtray.

His desire satisfied, his anger quickly replaces his shame. The crime of revealing himself, though unsolicited, is still his private burden. That godlike image of his is shattered. All his power—stripped away.

"F***." He returns to the bed with the ashtray. "You always show up at the perfect time. As always, right when I need you most."

He's mocking me.

"You don't have to stay until morning. Just go," he says, giving me a shove.

"Xixi," I say his name in a pleading tone.

"I'm of no use to you," he replies. "My reputation's destroyed. No future left. No commercial value. And you—you're a married, chart-topping superstar. Aren't you afraid of being photographed at a time like this?"

He's right. "A married golden boy idol, caught sneaking around with a disgraced has-been—worse, a disgusting homosexual."

He laughs. For no reason at all.

"Other than sleeping with you, I don't want any kind of relationship with you. Get lost."

I wanted to tell him that there was nothing real between Bai Jingrui and me, that my grandmother had passed away, that I now had my own company—I could be with him now. But when I thought of all the pain he'd been through, I couldn't bring myself to say a single word of promise.

"You know," I began, "ordinary people are all conditioned—punishment has become a system of knowledge. Power creates knowledge, and now they're judging and punishing your soul. The soul becomes a prison." I recalled what a philosopher once said.

But with him—there were no taboos, no good, no evil.

"What kind of nonsense is that?" He blew smoke toward me. "I don't care about reputation. What's real is—my future is gone. I'm not good enough for you."

He pretended to smile obsequiously, but it was laced with sarcasm. And then, five words that cut deep:

"You're finally living your dream. You've caught up to me. Compared to me, you're the real idol now."In the darkness, the glowing tip of his cigarette lit up his disheveled curls. That beautiful face.

"I was never real with Bai Jingrui," I finally said. "I love you."

"It doesn't matter anymore. I don't love you." He smiled, beautifully.

It was revenge. Words meant to hurt. But he was so serious, I could feel it—he had lost everything he once tried to control, including my reverence for him.

"It was Dai Yanzhi who gave me access to the building," I said, trying to appeal to him through someone close.

His feigned smile twisted into open fury.

"He thinks that now, with your elevated status and my fall from grace, we're finally a match. He wants you to come save me. What a joke."

"He just believes that whoever tied the knot should be the one to untie it," I said as I wrapped my arms around him.

"You all think everything happening to me now is because of you?" He shoved me away.

"Isn't it?" I smiled bitterly.

But after smiling, I felt arrogant. Self-righteous.

"Leave me alone." He had calmed again. "What right do you have to fix my life?"

"You don't need me to fix anything—you're more than capable of handling it yourself. No matter what Dai Yanzhi thinks, I just… wanted to see you."I knew that in moments like this, the last thing he needed was anyone's pity.

I saw his face soften.

"Xixi, my grandma passed away. And I have my own company now."I paused, trying to speak as gently as I could."My parents… they don't care what I do anymore. My older brother and younger brother both have kids. They won't pressure me to have children anymore."

"This is your own business. It has nothing to do with me," he said coldly.

"I'll file for divorce with Miss Bai as soon as possible," I said, trying to see his eyes through the darkness.

"I'm tired. I haven't been sleeping well these past few days. I need to rest. Do as you like, but leave before daylight. You might not care about keeping up appearances, but I don't want to cause myself any more trouble."He stubbed out his cigarette, wrapped himself tightly in the blanket, and turned his back to me.

Once he was asleep, I left quietly.

I've paid for sex before too. But unlike him, he had political influence here—he existed within the highest circles of power. It was just that, in the end, he was only an entertainer at the bottom of the pyramid. People like us could never reach the top. One careless step, and we'd become targets crushed in passing.

That's why I never reveal my stance, never express opinions publicly. I only interact with people in the industry, and only for business. I imagine this time, he might not even know who took him down. And even if he did, it wouldn't matter. All I wanted now was to wait for the storm to pass, and take him somewhere safe. After this, he could finally disappear from the public eye. In a way, it was what I'd always wanted.

All these years, he's completely misunderstood my love for him. I never loved him for his status or his wealth. I loved him for his sheer talent, for the clarity of his soul. That bond between us began when we were just boys—an understanding forged through music. During our years apart, distance turned friendship into something more. It broke the taboo, made the love more precious. Before the revenge and jealousy came, our feelings had already sunk deep, intertwined with our musical journey. Everything that followed was just the chaos of entering the adult world.

Now—this timing—it finally feels right.

Hope flared inside me.

At 8 a.m., I called Dai Yanzhi. No answer.At 9, I tried again. Still nothing.At 10, I wondered if Ye Xi was awake. He hadn't rested well in days. Let him sleep a bit longer.

Finally, Dai Yanzhi picked up.

"Any updates?"

"What updates?" he answered groggily.

"Handling the aftermath—don't we need to release a statement? What about the commercial deals? Do they need to be canceled? Compensated?"I wanted to shake him. Was there no one around Ye Xi he could truly rely on?

"Why are you panicking? Mind your own business. You planning to pay for everything?"

"I can," I said calmly. "But I don't think Ye Xi would want me to."

"Enough. I don't believe a word you say. Why don't you go finalize your divorce first?"

"If you don't believe me, why did you give me the keys yesterday?"

He fell silent for a long time before hanging up.

I called again.He didn't pick up.

A minute later, he sent me a message:

"He loves you too deeply. I can't bear it.What I couldn't do, someone has to.But if you hurt him again, I'll take him away.Don't even think about ever seeing him again."

All these years, I never imagined he loved Ye Xi this much.Now that I finally understood, it all made sense—every man I'd seen him with bore some resemblance to Ye Xi.

I hated this sudden wave of crisis washing over me.

But how could Ye Xi have fallen for him?

Still, I had to start thinking seriously about the divorce. The money didn't matter. What mattered was how Ye Xi would keep playing the piano.

Being out of the public eye—that was one thing.But if he no longer had an audience… would he be willing to play just for me?

No. His ambition would never allow his talent to become my private possession.As selfish as I was, wanting him to be my golden canary, living forever under my design… if he were a woman, perhaps he would've gladly become my personal pianist.

But he had already fallen for me—fallen hard. For me, he'd lost his way. He'd given his all, one-sidedly, even forcing me to submit under the public eye.

He held so many expectations in his heart, shrouded and unreadable, yet never once voiced aloud.

Only a woman would do that.

He wasn't honest with me, and yet he loved me deeply.So how exactly did he plan to keep loving me?

The stillness of the room was suddenly broken by a downpour—whispers turned to weeping cries, as if the rain itself were lamenting.

This damn autumn rain—so fickle, so endless.