Chapter 72: I Hope My Path Is Etched Into the Course of Your Destiny

“Farewell letter.” When Shen Jixing uttered these words in his calm tone, Zhou Yili seemed to freeze for a moment.

His heart skipped, startled and frantic. The weight of those three words was too much to bear. Zhou Yili gripped his hand, and the smooth melody from the piano ended abruptly, notes descending into silence.

Shen Jixing heard him say, “Don’t play.”

Zhou Yili knew he disliked being interrupted, so he buried his unruly, tousled head in the crook of Shen Jixing’s neck.

“I don’t like this piece.”

The little lion was being coquettish.

Shen Jixing wasn’t angry at being interrupted; he only raised his hand and gently ruffled Zhou Yili’s hair.

“All right. I won’t play it again.”

Nor would there be another chance to.

Back then, Zhou Yili only felt Shen Jixing spoiled him terribly.

Was this what it meant to be someone’s boyfriend?

This dazzling, born-to-shine man belonged to him, and only him. The mere thought filled Zhou Yili’s heart with overflowing love.

Youth never knew restraint.

“I’ll play for you,” Zhou Yili said.

Shen Jixing glanced at him. “Every piece you know, I taught you.”

“But this one’s different,” Zhou Yili replied, a youthful pride arching his brow. “This one, I sing.”

Even a foolish little lion has his strengths: his robust physique, his athletic talent, and his beautiful singing voice.

“I’ve already shown off the first two. The last one remains…”

Shen Jixing’s expression changed. He pushed away that tousled head, his tone cold and warning. “Shut up!”

Zhou Yili burst out laughing. “My mistake, my mistake. Come here.”

Shen Jixing hesitated for a moment, then leaned his lower back lightly against the window. “Here, you can see more clearly.”

Zhou Yili thought, it absolutely wasn’t that he couldn’t live without Shen Jixing; it was just that this man kept seducing him at every turn.

Who could resist?

Shen Jixing stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, a sea of silk tree blossoms swaying behind him, pink as mist, spring’s infinite beauty spreading out.

He heard Zhou Yili’s low, rich, melodious voice:

“You know I wanna be”

“You’re destiny”

Shen Jixing’s gaze froze.

Zhou Yili hadn’t exaggerated—his singing was truly beautiful.

Shen Jixing had discerning taste; this was genuine praise from him.

Leaning against the window, his cool gaze traveled slowly from head to toe, as if he meant to remember every inch of him.

But there was no need to deliberately remember.

Zhou Yili was as fervent as all the world’s beauty, and even more so.

“So please just say hello”

“This love is haunting me”

Zhou Yili looked up at the man before the window, seeing those eyes focused on him—surprised, appreciative.

A faint, satisfied smile lifted Zhou Yili’s lips.

“I’m still not over you”

“There’s nothing I could do”

The smile at Shen Jixing’s lips suddenly faltered.

He looked at Zhou Yili, lips moving as if to echo: If he were to forget, he would be powerless.

It felt as though, somewhere in the depths of fate, he had done something terribly wrong…

Indulging himself, how could he ever end things in a way worthy of the boy’s fierce, burning love?

Zhou Yili let the last note fall away.

He rose from the piano.

Shen Jixing stared blankly for two seconds. Just as he gathered himself to offer praise, a tall figure pressed him back against the glass.

He was about to speak, when a scorching kiss descended.

“Don’t—there are servants downstairs…” Shen Jixing turned his head, trying to avoid him.

Zhou Yili easily caught his chin with one hand, turning him back, rubbing his nose against him with lazy amusement. “So what?”

Like a clingy little animal, at this age Zhou Yili loved to act spoiled, to nuzzle, to love him.

“We’re in love—it’s not like we have to hide.”

“…”

“I’ve wanted to sing to you for a long time,” Zhou Yili said, eyes curved in a smile, “but you wouldn’t let me set up a confession scene back then.”

When he was unsure, Zhou Yili wouldn’t corner him, wouldn’t force him.

But it seemed he still owed him a confession.

Zhou Yili slid a ring from his finger, pressing it into Shen Jixing’s palm.

“If you don’t want a couple’s ring, then take my ring.”

He didn’t like to make things public, didn’t want others to know, so they’d love each other in secret.

Shen Jixing looked at the silver ring on his fourth finger.

Still that familiar six-pointed star.

His throat felt dry, words failing him. He didn’t know what to say.

“This song is the voice of my heart.”

The proud, temperamental young master, in the end, couldn’t help but lay all his feelings bare.

“The moment I first saw you, I thought—”

“I want my path to cross yours, to be inscribed in your destiny.”

“I want my path to leave traces in your fate.”

Zhou Yili’s smile was brighter than sunlight.

“I’ve done it.”

…

On the third day of his debut, Shen Jixing saw Zhou Yili again. By then, a whole month had passed with no contact between them.

By then, Shen Jixing had already made a name for himself. With just a single cameo, his appearance caused a sensation.

Some people are simply born for the spotlight.

Zhou Yili thought so.

“And this is?” Chu Wen noticed that Shen Jixing’s gaze never shifted, and followed it to the youth leaning nonchalantly against a trailer.

Shen Jixing replied, “My friend.”

Zhou Yili’s eyes flickered.

Chu Wen seemed about to say something, but instead said, “You only have fifteen minutes for a break. Take care of your guest.”

Zhou Yili narrowed his eyes; his proud, stubborn temperament couldn't stand provocation.

He stepped forward.

“Come here.” Shen Jixing reached out to him.

The moment Zhou Yili’s hand fell into his palm, all that temper seemed to vanish.

A month of heartbreak was soothed in an instant.

Chu Wen, holding his script, glanced at their clasped hands, then looked away impassively.

He wondered whether to report this to that person.

Zhou Yili let his boyfriend pull him along toward the lounge, tossing Chu Wen a middle finger over his shoulder.

Chu Wen: “…”

He was just a newly debuted rookie, yet had his own lounge on set.

Zhou Yili was surprised, but said nothing.

Not until Shen Jixing released his hand, his ink-bright features lowered, his tone gentle and distant: “Ask me anything you want—I’ll explain it all.”

He would never lie to Zhou Yili.

But what he said might not be the truth.

Especially since this little lion was so temperamental; he would have every excuse prepared, leaving no room for argument.

Why he disappeared.

Why he returned the money, gave up Venus, chose to debut.

But Zhou Yili only said, “Nothing, really.”

He rummaged in his bag for something.

“I brought you food.”

Zhou Yili said lightly, “I saw you on camera yesterday—you look even thinner than a month ago.”

“You’ve always been thin. There’s hardly any flesh to you.”

Shen Jixing’s hands, hanging at his sides, moved slightly, slowly curling into his palm.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Zhou Yili opened the insulated box, found Shen Jixing’s gaze, and joked lazily, “Why are your eyes all watery again? Are you feeling wronged?”

Shen Jixing frowned. “Don’t talk nonsense.”

With those cold, proud eyes, no one would think he felt wronged.

No one but Zhou Yili.

“Really, nothing I want to ask.”

Zhou Yili glanced at his hand, at the six-pointed star silver ring on that finger, glinting.

“You’re still wearing my ring. We’re still in love. That’s enough.”