Behind Li Zhen's eyes, that memory was just as vivid as the day it happened, like a photograph he burned over and over again for the past five years. Back then, there were a lot of things he didn't understand, and, truth be told, he understood even less now.   

As for Xu Jinli, except for the initial flicker of surprise, he didn't seem too shaken by Li Zhen's sudden reappearance. After dismissing his class, he went back to sit in front of the piano, one slender hand resting lazily on the keys. The glossy black surface reflected his faint image, painting the perfect backdrop for his silhouette: it both accentuated the mellow curve of his waist and gave him a slightly detached, almost mystifying look, casting him in shades of melancholy and sheen. 

It was moments like these that seemed endlessly fascinating to any artist's eyes, not just Li Zhen's. Xu Jinli was indeed the perfect muse, his every move choreographed to perfection. The way he bowed his head slightly to listen to you talk, how he curled his fingers when gesturing, and even the way his short hair looked different under studio lights compared to natural sunlight, everything was pure poetry.

But the impact was only devastating in the beginning.

Even for someone like Li Zhen, who had studied Xu Jinli countless times throughout his life, the ability to distinguish reality from yet another one of his performances got muddier and muddier with each meeting. Just when you'd think you finally caught a glimpse of the real him, his laugh, his pain, his boredom, Xu Jinli would snap his fingers with a smile and become someone else entirely.

So what made him dazzling was also what made him unknowable. He never stayed still, and never remained just one thing. From character to character, mood to mood, he danced through life like it was a stage that never closed its curtains. And while that performance could keep you breathless for a while, trying to follow him was like chasing light reflections across a mirror maze.

In the end, it was maddening, and few people could keep up with it.

Back then, maybe out of self-preservation or a sort of fear he couldn't name, Li Zhen also refused to dwell any deeper. In the end, he chose to regard Xu Jinli like a plaster cast of David, displayed in the middle of his studio: glorious and perfect from every vantage, no matter where you stood. A thing of beauty, meant to be observed and admired. You could watch it countless times without getting bored, you could touch it and mold it however you pleased, even imagine it existed only for you. But once class ended and everyone packed their things and left, the lights would go out, and the statue would remain behind. 

Just a shape in the dark. 

Beautiful, yes. 

But hollow.

And worse still, no one noticed when it started to crack.

......................

There were many things that Li Zhen wanted to ask. 

Senior, have you been well? What happened to you? Why are you hiding here?

But in the end, all those questions had no real meaning, and by the time they reached his lips, only a few words made it to Xu Jinli's ears.

"Senior... you look pale."

"Oh, wow, you really know how to compliment someone, don't you?" Xu Jinli answered with a giggle, rolling his eyes. As if thoroughly entertained by their conversation, his fingers started tapping a little tune on the piano's wooden frame, a melody that only he could hear, but found very pleasing. "Forget about that. What are you doing here? I thought you planned to ghost me for life."

"I thought you never wanted to see me again?" Li Zhen asked as he moved closer to him, his tall body approaching like a shadow in the sunlit studio.

"Nonsense, when did I ever say that?"

“Didn’t you call me a traitor last time we met?” 

"I had a bad day," Xu Jinli answered with a shrug. "By evening, I also called Dean Zhao a capitalistic pig." 

Oh well... the conversation was clearly not going anywhere.

For a second, Li Zhen didn't know what else to say, staring at him blankly. He was not good with words, and talking with Xu Jinli always made it painfully obvious. Fortunately, his senior could carry the entire conversation on his own, not at all bothered by silence. 

“Don’t give me that look,” Xu Jinli sighed. “Anyway, how long are you staying? Are you back for the annual gala or just here to haunt my classroom?”

“My father asked me to participate.” Li Zhen hesitated for a moment, then added: “He insisted.”

Hearing his words, Xu Jinli’s eyebrow arched as he asked, "Old man Li, ah? He's still alive?"

"Well, he was this morning." For once, Li Zhen's voice carried the slight semblance of a smile, thinking that Xu Jinli really had the gift to hit the nail on the head, using the least amount of words possible. His question managed to unravel the whole truth. Yes, Old Master Li was still alive and kicking everyone left and right, and he was still completely under his control, following every order like a well-trained machine. But as he leaned his body against the windowsill, a subtle fragrance clouded his mind for a moment, dragging all the negative thoughts out of it. However, it seemed to be somewhat different from what he remembered, and Li Zhen couldn't help but say:

"Senior, your pheromones changed."

For a moment, the studio fell into silence as Xu Jinli turned his whole body to stare at him. His eyes were as deep as the ocean at night, but his face was expressionless, like he couldn't fathom such words could even exist in Li Zhen's vocabulary. Then, his lips opened, and a voice that tasted like vine mixed with poison covered the entire studio.

"Excuse me?!"

“They’re weaker,” And yet, Li Zhen continued, completely unfazed by his reaction. “Faint even.”

A beat passed, and then Xu Jinli asked flatly: "Li Zhen, are you a complete idiot?"

Young Master Li blinked.

“Don’t you know you’re not supposed to say that to an Omega?” Xu Jinli’s voice still carried that signature honey sweetness, but something sharp glittered behind his lashes. “That’s practically slander.”

“But it’s true,” Li Zhen replied, tone quiet but direct. “Are you sick?”

Xu Jinli stared at him as his lips parted, but nothing came out for a second. Suddenly, his eyes looked tired, affected in a way that was difficult to describe. Then, brushing his bangs to the top of his head, he muttered: “Well, damn. You just stabbed the heart of my dramatic reunion. I rehearsed our reunion at least a million times, you know."

"..."

Was he really a complete idiot? Li Zhen couldn't help but wonder. How come every time he talked with Xu Jinli, both in the past and present, the conversation always died on his turf? He clearly didn't have that problem with anyone else, ah! 

"Forget about it." In the end, it was still Xu Jinli's grace that pardoned him. "In a sense, I actually quite missed this, you know?" Ruffling his hair, Xu Jinli got up and started walking towards the door. The wide hem of his pants perfectly concealed his feet as he moved with feline grace, turning his head to ask:

"How about we continue this over coffee?"

......................

Back then, Li Zhen used to sit in the far-left corner of Lecture Room C, with some sort of plaster dust always smudged on his cheek and the faint scent of charcoal clinging to his shirt. He wasn't part of the Drama Department, and technically, had no business being there.

But he showed up anyway.

And no one ever stopped him.

"Senior Xu,” Li Zhen would say. Every time.

“Call me Jin,” the older student would reply. Every time.

But he never did.

They weren’t quite friends, not then, and certainly not now either. But they sat together after class, sometimes in silence, sometimes in hushed conversation. Li Zhen listened as Xu Jinli recited lines to the wind, using the terrace of his favourite rooftop studio as his own private stage. 

He saw him cry once, too, after missing out on a role he really wanted. 

Not because he wasn’t good enough, but because he was too good... and too strange. After all, no one in the cast wanted to share the spotlight with a boy who could upstage them with just a glance, even when he wasn't performing a role.

One evening, they sat side by side on the rooftop ledge. The night was humid, the air sticky with osmanthus and words that remained unspoken.

“I think I’m going to hell,” Xu Jinli said, eating jelly candy and swinging his legs like a bored child.

“You said that last week.”

“Yes, but this time I mean it.”

“Why?”

“I cursed someone’s entire bloodline and said that even a goat in disguise could perform a romance on stage better than they did. I came this close to physically assaulting another co-star, and maybe... assumed someone I care about would betray me." 

Li Zhen glanced at him, but Xu Jinli didn’t elaborate. Instead, he just popped another candy into his mouth like the confession didn’t matter.

“You also said that last week.”

Xu Jinli turned to him and laughed. “You remember everything, don’t you?” 

“Yes.”

He did.

He remembered how Xu Jinli looked when the veil slipped, how tired he was, and how easily his mask broke behind the makeup. And how his fingers always trembled after a performance, no matter how loud the applause.