When An Zi Yan finished reading the letter, his expression barely changed. He set the unfolded pages back on the piano and continued playing. Mai Ding, who had been standing in the doorway the whole time, walked over. “Was that letter from Grandpa?” An Zi Yan did not answer, so Mai Ding asked again, “Can I read it?”
“Mm.”
Mai Ding picked up the letter and sat beside An Zi Yan with his back to him. As An Zi Yan played, his arm occasionally brushed against Mai Ding’s back with the movement of the notes. Mai Ding’s vision began to blur. An Zi Yan’s voice came from behind him. “Stop crying.”
“I’m not.”
The next morning, there was no piano music in the room. By the time Mai Ding got out of bed, An Zi Yan was already standing beside the window. Mai Ding, who was always complaining that An Zi Yan slept too late, now wished he could sleep a little longer. Would the world inside his dreams be better?
“I’m going to see Grandpa today.” The instant Mai Ding heard him, he scrambled out of bed, grabbed An Zi Yan’s sleeve, and stared at him. “No!” An Zi Yan froze, then looked at Mai Ding with some helplessness. “I mean I’m going to visit Grandpa’s grave, not go to the other world. Go get dressed.” Only then did Mai Ding let go, embarrassed by his own stupidity.
This was An Zi Yan’s first time coming here since Grandpa died. One hand was tucked into his trouser pocket, the other hanging at his side as he lowered his head and looked at Grandpa’s gravestone. The ground in front of it was covered in flowers. Standing among them, An Zi Yan had a kind of beauty that felt strangely out of place. More than ten minutes later, he turned around. “Let’s go.”
Mai Ding followed behind him and asked carefully, “Aren’t you going to say something to Grandpa?” An Zi Yan stopped. “What do you want me to say to a gravestone?” Then he kept walking. Mai Ding did not know what An Zi Yan meant by that. He did not know what An Zi Yan was thinking either. There were far too many things he did not know. Believing he already understood An Zi Yan well enough had been far too presumptuous.
Once they were in the car, An Zi Yan started the engine. Keeping his eyes on the road as he turned the steering wheel, he said quietly, “Good thing you’re still here.”
“But I haven’t done anything for you. I’m useless.”
“For me, that’s already enough.”
If this had happened before, Mai Ding might already have been blushing and his heart racing. So why did An Zi Yan’s gentleness make his heart ache now? He looked out the window and realized they were not heading home. “Where are we going?”
“It’s still New Year. We should visit your parents.” This was a kind of gentleness and thoughtfulness Mai Ding did not want to bear. He shook his head. “It’s okay. My parents will understand. We don’t have to go.” An Zi Yan said nothing and drove to Mai Ding’s parents’ house anyway. When Mai Ding’s mother opened the door and saw them, she forced a smile. “You’re here. Come in.”
No one mentioned Grandpa. No one wanted to show grief or pity. They talked about ordinary, meaningless things the way they always did, because no one wanted to tear the wound open. Mai Ding’s father smoked while chatting with An Zi Yan about the news. Mai Ding’s mother called Mai Ding into the kitchen to help. With her head lowered as she washed vegetables, she finally asked him in private, “Are you two all right?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’ll get through it. You’re still young. People from your dad’s and my generation have already gone through losing our elders many times. Give it some time and it’ll hurt a little less.”
“Mm.”
They ate a simple home-cooked meal. The television was replaying the Spring Festival Gala again. Mai Ding’s mother said, “Stay here tonight. Mai Ding, go tidy your room and make the bed.” Mai Ding nodded and went upstairs to his old room. He opened the curtains first, then put away things they would not need. At some point, An Zi Yan came in too and sat on the bed, watching Mai Ding bustle around. Mai Ding rose onto his toes and pulled sheets and a quilt down from the top cabinet.
“I need to make the bed.” The words had barely left Mai Ding’s mouth before An Zi Yan stood up and moved away, walking over to the window and pushing it open. Mai Ding silently lowered his head and made the bed. An Zi Yan had moved without the slightest reluctance. So many of Mai Ding’s old complaints had somehow come true in such a short time. He could no longer find a single thing to complain about, yet why could he not feel happy?
“The ladder’s gone,” An Zi Yan suddenly said. It took Mai Ding a few seconds to understand what he meant. “Of course it is. That was ages ago. What if some stranger climbed up here the way you did?”
“I did something like that?”
“You did.”
So much time had already passed. Back when Mai Ding had a cold, An Zi Yan had quietly climbed up the ladder, and with him had come the sweetest dream Mai Ding had ever had. Mai Ding could still vividly remember his surprise, sweetness, and happiness the moment he saw An Zi Yan climb through the window. Back then, An Zi Yan had cured his cold and his loneliness. Now, though, Mai Ding was powerless against An Zi Yan’s pain. Even if An Zi Yan said Mai Ding’s presence was enough, Mai Ding still felt it was not. It was nowhere near enough.
At night, pale moonlight spread a thin veil over the room. On the bedside table was a framed photograph of Mai Ding from high school. The cabinet held all the treasures he had once wanted to trade with Wu Xin in exchange for An Zi Yan. If he could, Mai Ding now wanted to exchange souls with An Zi Yan and bear the grief in his place.
An Zi Yan’s cold fingers brushed Mai Ding’s face. “I want you right now.” Why did he tell Mai Ding first? He could have simply pushed him down. Mai Ding leaned forward and kissed him. His fingers slid over An Zi Yan’s body, but Mai Ding could not feel any warmth. How could he be so cold? Mai Ding suddenly straddled An Zi Yan. Without foreplay or lubrication, he bit his lower lip and guided An Zi Yan into him. An Zi Yan frowned and tried to pull away, but Mai Ding stopped him. “I want it this way. Do it, An Zi Yan.” When An Zi Yan still did not move, Mai Ding leaned down over him. “Please. Do it.” An Zi Yan finally began to move gently. The pain in Mai Ding’s body came through An Zi Yan, and somehow that made it feel fair. An Zi Yan turned them over and pressed Mai Ding beneath him, kissing him as he gave him tenderness and pain together.
He lifted one of Mai Ding’s legs onto his shoulder and pressed a hand against Mai Ding’s shoulder. “If it hurts, tell me. I’ll stop.”
“But when you hurt, did you tell me? Can you stop it? I want this. I want you.”
An Zi Yan entered him again, pushing deep and surrounded by warmth. Mai Ding often complained that desire was terrible because it emptied a person’s mind, but in that moment he was grateful for it. It made both of them forget everything around them until there was nothing left except their bodies moving together. An Zi Yan’s pace shifted between fast and slow, forceful and gentle. Mai Ding arched his back and pointed his toes, his entire body moving with An Zi Yan’s thrusts until both the sheets and his soul seemed wrinkled beneath them.
Moonlight spilled over their skin. In it, An Zi Yan looked too beautiful and too cold. Mai Ding lifted a hand to touch him but could no longer tell whether he was reaching for An Zi Yan’s face or the moon. An Zi Yan caught that hand and kissed it.
When An Zi Yan came, he collapsed over Mai Ding and wrapped his arms tightly around him. Lately, An Zi Yan’s embraces had all been forceful and direct. His voice was so soft the darkness nearly crushed it. “He thought leaving one letter could change anything.” Mai Ding wrapped his legs around An Zi Yan and said nothing. When the strength in An Zi Yan’s arms gradually loosened, Mai Ding knew he had fallen asleep. Exhaustion soon dragged Mai Ding into sleep too.
In his dream, Mai Ding saw Grandpa. Grandpa was young again and could walk easily without a wheelchair or cane. Beside him was a beautiful woman in a white dress and hat. It was Grandma. She held Grandpa’s arm, and both of them were smiling sweetly.
Grandpa waved to Mai Ding. “Tell Zi Yan I’m much more handsome than he is now, and I’m doing much better too. But your grandma says I made Zi Yan unhappy, so she wants to hit me. Xiao Ding, I’m leaving Zi Yan to you from now on. You’re a good kid.” Their voices drifted farther and farther away until they disappeared. Mai Ding opened his eyes. He did not know whether the dream had been real or only his subconscious at work, but he would rather believe it was real. Grandpa was happy in another world. That thought comforted Mai Ding greatly, and he was happy for Grandpa too.
He had heard that when someone was asleep, if you whispered beside them, perhaps the words could reach their dreams. Mai Ding did not want to be the only one who dreamed of Grandpa. He leaned close to An Zi Yan’s ear and quietly repeated everything Grandpa had said in the dream. Looking at An Zi Yan’s sleeping face, Mai Ding asked himself over and over: Will he dream of him? Will he dream of him?