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Xie Lian adjusted the brim of his cap, pulling it lower over his face as he stepped into the sleek glass building that housed GuiShi Recording Studio. The polished floors gleamed under the bright lights, and the faint hum of distant music made his pulse quicken. For the past week, his nerves had been simmering; now, they felt like they were on the verge of boiling over.
The invitation to collaborate with Hua Cheng— GuiShi’s fiery rapper, industry legend, and the face plastered across half the city’s billboards—had been both a career milestone and a shock to his system. His bandmates had practically pushed him out the door, buoying him with a mix of encouragement and envy.
“You’ll crush it,” Mu Qing, Xi4nle’s cool and composed visual, had said with an almost begrudging smile. “Hua Cheng’s a pro, and your voice? It’s the kind people remember.”
That was easy for Mu Qing to say. He wasn’t the one about to face Hua Cheng .
The receptionist led Xie Lian to a plush lounge area, the kind of room that oozed money and exclusivity. And there he was: Hua Cheng, sprawled across the leather couch like he owned the place, his casual confidence magnetic. Everything about him demanded attention, from the gleam of the silver rings on his fingers to the devil-may-care smirk that tugged at his lips.
When Hua Cheng spotted Xie Lian, that smirk deepened, and he stood, his movements fluid. “So, you’re the guy I’m supposed to vibe with,” he said, his voice smooth and low. He extended a hand, his silver rings cool against Xie Lian’s clammy palm. “Hua Cheng. Nice to meet you.”
“Xie Lian,” he managed, his voice steadier than he felt.
Hua Cheng tilted his head, his dark eyes sharp and unreadable. Then, as if sensing the tension, he grinned. “Relax. This is gonna be fun.”
The studio itself was a haven of creativity, its walls lined with soundproof panels and shelves of awards that seemed to glow in the dim light. The producers welcomed them with warm handshakes, but it was Hua Cheng who took the lead, leaning over the table with easy authority.
“We’re going for something timeless,” Hua Cheng said, his voice commanding yet playful. “A track that sticks with people.”
Xie Lian nodded, absorbing Hua Cheng’s natural charisma as he tossed out ideas like they were second nature. Meanwhile, Xie Lian contributed cautiously, his words deliberate. Every now and then, he caught Hua Cheng’s gaze, a flicker of encouragement in those sharp eyes that made his heart beat faster.
By the end of the session, they’d found their theme: a love that felt like home. The kind of connection that transcended chaos and time, unshakable and enduring.
“Eight hundred years of running,” Hua Cheng mused aloud, his voice softer now. “And then falling into each other’s arms, like it was always meant to be.”
The words resonated so deeply with Xie Lian that he momentarily forgot to breathe. Was Hua Cheng spinning gold from imagination, or was there a truth buried beneath his lyrical musings?
When Hua Cheng turned to him with a knowing smile, Xie Lian’s pulse stuttered.
“Think you can sing that, Gege?” Hua Cheng asked, his tone teasing yet warm.
Xie Lian met his gaze, feeling a flicker of confidence that hadn’t been there before. “I think I can.”
Something told him this collaboration would be more than just a song.
In the weeks that followed, the song began to take on a life of its own. Hua Cheng’s sharp, electrifying verses added grit and fire to Xie Lian’s soft, heartachingly tender melodies. Together, their harmonies wove into something so breathtakingly seamless that it sent a thrill down Xie Lian’s spine each time they hit the perfect note.
The studio was a flurry of creativity, but Hua Cheng’s playful energy kept the atmosphere light. He had a knack for making everyone laugh, but his favorite target was Xie Lian.
“Gege, you’re like a little owl,” Hua Cheng teased one afternoon, leaning against the edge of the console as Xie Lian adjusted his glasses, his focus on the sheet music in his lap.
“An owl?” Xie Lian repeated, bewildered. He looked up at Hua Cheng, his brow furrowed.
“Yeah. Big brown eyes. Quiet. Wise, maybe,” Hua Cheng mused, his grin stretching wider. Then, leaning in closer, he added in a mock-serious whisper, “But I bet you’ve got secrets.”
Xie Lian’s cheeks burned as he blinked at him, utterly caught off guard. “I—I don’t think I’m anything like an owl.”
“Sure you don’t,” Hua Cheng quipped, his smirk teasing but warm.
The teasing, however relentless, always carried an undercurrent of affection that left Xie Lian flustered but strangely at ease. Hua Cheng had an uncanny ability to read the room, to know when to push and when to step back. He never pressured Xie Lian if he needed extra time to tweak a lyric or perfect a note, his patience as steady as his confidence.
The moment they finally recorded the chorus was electric. Their voices soared together, Hua Cheng’s raw intensity merging with Xie Lian’s delicate clarity in a way that felt almost otherworldly. The sound poured out of the speakers, rich and full, leaving the room in stunned silence.
“That was magic,” Hua Cheng said at last, his voice low but full of awe. He clapped Xie Lian on the back, his hand lingering for a heartbeat longer than necessary.
Xie Lian turned, meeting Hua Cheng’s gaze. The way Hua Cheng looked at him—like he was something rare, something extraordinary—sent his heart stuttering in his chest. Panicking, he tore his gaze away, fumbling for his water bottle like it was the most important task in the world.
“Good work,” he murmured, his voice uneven.
But Hua Cheng’s smirk only deepened, a knowing glint in his dark eyes as he leaned back, watching Xie Lian with a mix of amusement and something else—something softer. Something that made Xie Lian’s heart race.
As the project edged closer to completion, the boundary between their professional partnership and something deeper began to blur. Hua Cheng started showing up to the studio with two coffees in hand, always nailing Xie Lian’s intricate order—half sweet, oat milk, a sprinkle of cinnamon on top.
“How do you even remember this?” Xie Lian had asked once, eyeing the cup suspiciously.
“Easy,” Hua Cheng had replied with a smirk. “I pay attention.”
Their late-night sessions stretched long after the music stopped, their conversations shifting from lyrics and melodies to snippets of their lives. Hua Cheng shared stories about growing up with nothing but a stubborn dream, while Xie Lian talked about summers spent under the persimmon trees of his childhood home. They debated the merits of spicy snacks versus sweet ones, with Hua Cheng mock-gasping when Xie Lian confessed he didn’t care for hot food.
One evening, as they lounged in the quiet studio, the city’s lights glowing faintly beyond the window, Hua Cheng spun a pen idly between his fingers. “You’re not what I expected,” he said, his tone thoughtful.
Xie Lian looked up from his notebook, tilting his head. “What did you expect?”
Hua Cheng paused, as if weighing his words. “Someone a little... standoffish. But you’re—how do I put this?” He leaned back, eyes scanning Xie Lian like he was piecing together a puzzle. “Soft.”
Xie Lian blinked, his brow furrowing. “Soft?” He couldn’t tell if that was a compliment or an insult.
“I mean it in a good way, gege,” Hua Cheng clarified, his voice warm with sincerity. “You’ve got this calm energy. Like... the kind that makes people feel safe.”
The tips of Xie Lian’s ears turned pink. “Oh. Thanks, I guess.”
Hua Cheng’s grin widened, that teasing spark lighting his eyes. “You’re welcome.”
And just like that, the air between them seemed to hum with something unspoken—something that made Xie Lian’s heart stumble and his thoughts race in directions he wasn’t ready to admit.
The night of the performance arrived, and Xie Lian’s nerves felt like a storm raging inside him. The venue was alive, a sea of glowing light sticks swaying in rhythm, their colors painting the massive crowd in waves of vibrant energy. Backstage, Xie Lian couldn’t stop pacing, his palms clammy despite the cool air.
“You’re gonna carve a trench into the floor,” Hua Cheng drawled, stepping into his path and catching him by the arm. His touch was firm yet reassuring. “Deep breaths, gege. We’ve got this.”
Xie Lian looked at Hua Cheng, his confidence a steadying force against the chaos in his chest. He nodded, though his heart still pounded like a drum.
When they stepped onto the stage, the roar of the crowd was deafening, the energy hitting Xie Lian like a wave. The opening notes of their song played, and for a fleeting second, he wondered if his voice would hold.
But as soon as he began the first verse, the music swept him up. His voice wavered at first, but Hua Cheng’s presence—calm, grounded, magnetic—was an anchor. When Hua Cheng joined in, his deep, resonant voice wove through Xie Lian’s melody like a thread of gold, elevating the song into something transcendent.
By the chorus, Xie Lian forgot the stage, the lights, the audience. It was just the two of them, pouring every ounce of emotion into the performance. The lyrics, a story of love and longing, resonated in every note, every word.
As the final chords faded into the air, the crowd erupted, their cheers shaking the arena. Xie Lian turned to Hua Cheng, his chest heaving, adrenaline coursing through him.
“That was—” he began, his voice breathless.
Before he could finish, Hua Cheng closed the distance between them. His hands cupped Xie Lian’s face with a gentleness that caught him off guard, and then Hua Cheng kissed him.
The world froze. The roar of the crowd dimmed, the blazing stage lights blurred, and all that existed was the soft press of Hua Cheng’s lips. It was bold, unmistakable, and utterly unplanned.
When they broke apart, the cheers hit them in full force, deafening and wild. Xie Lian’s eyes widened as he stared at Hua Cheng, his heart hammering so loudly he was sure it echoed in the arena.
Hua Cheng’s smile was dazzling, his eyes bright with mischief and something far more profound. He leaned closer, his voice just audible over the crowd’s frenzy.
“Told you we’d be unforgettable together.”
The kiss lit the internet on fire, sparking a storm of debates, fan theories, and speculation. Headlines screamed about whether it was a publicity stunt, but anyone who had seen the way Hua Cheng and Xie Lian looked at each other that night knew there was something deeper beneath the surface.
Xie Lian found Hua Cheng in the quiet backstage lounge, his heart still racing from the kiss and the thunderous applause. Hua Cheng was sitting on the edge of the couch, scrolling through his phone, his expression calm but with a faint, unmistakable curve of satisfaction on his lips.
Xie Lian hesitated in the doorway, then slowly approached. “That kiss...” he began, his voice soft, tinged with wonder. “Why did you do it?”
Hua Cheng looked up, setting his phone aside. His eyes softened as he met Xie Lian’s gaze, the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Because I couldn’t hold back anymore,” he admitted, his voice low and warm. “And because, if I’m being honest, I thought... maybe you wanted me to, too.”
The words hung in the air, charged with an intimacy that made Xie Lian’s cheeks heat. “I...” He looked away, his hands fidgeting. “I didn’t expect it, but... I didn’t mind.”
Hua Cheng rose to his feet, closing the distance between them in a few steps. “Didn’t mind?” he echoed, his tone teasing but laced with something deeper. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from Xie Lian’s forehead. “You sure about that, gege?”
Xie Lian’s breath hitched at the tenderness of the gesture. Slowly, he looked up, meeting Hua Cheng’s gaze, his heart pounding in his chest. “I didn’t mind,” he said again, more firmly this time. “Maybe I even wanted it, too.”
Hua Cheng’s smile widened, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. “Good,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Because I don’t plan to stop with just one.”
And this time, when Hua Cheng leaned in, Xie Lian didn’t hesitate. He closed the distance between them, meeting him halfway in a kiss that felt like the beginning of something extraordinary.
“I don’t know what this is,” Xie Lian admitted after a moment, gesturing vaguely between them. “Whatever it is, it’s... confusing.”
“It’s confusing for me, too,” Hua Cheng said, his voice soft, tinged with something raw. “But I know one thing for sure, Gege—I like you. I have for a while. And tonight felt like the only way I could finally say it without messing it up.”
Xie Lian’s heart skipped a beat. “You... like me?”
Hua Cheng chuckled lightly, his hand brushing Xie Lian’s cheek. “Yeah, gege. I like you. A lot. More than I probably should.”
For a moment, Xie Lian could only stare at him, his mind racing. Then, almost timidly, he nodded. “I think... I like you too.”
Hua Cheng’s grin was radiant, a mix of relief and triumph. “Good. Because I’m not about to let you go now.”
He pulled Xie Lian into a hug, his arms firm but comforting, and Xie Lian melted into it, his nerves finally beginning to settle.
When they left the venue together, hand in hand, the flashes of cameras felt distant, insignificant compared to the warmth radiating between them. Xie Lian glanced at Hua Cheng, who squeezed his hand and gave him a reassuring smile.
Their song was already a hit, but their story—the real one—had only just begun.