Morning and Chapter 32

After the two of them broke through the barrier between them, they became even more awkward with each other. He Mu was shy. The last time he had dated anyone was in high school. Back then the nervous uncertainty and the fear of being discovered had outweighed any joy or sweetness. Now it was different. Outside the north wind howled, but inside the room was warm and quiet. Chang Ming’an sat beside him with a book open on his lap. It was an ordinary scene, yet somehow not ordinary at all. He Mu couldn’t help sneaking glances at him before turning back to his own textbook. Exams were coming soon.

Chang Ming’an was a man of his word. When he said he would consider something, he truly did. He held his book and turned the pages without absorbing a single line.

He kept wondering what He Mu’s family was like and whether his own family would accept him. After turning the question over and over he always came back to the same doubt: Did He Mu really like him? What if, after they got together, He Mu ended up like his ex, dissatisfied with this or that, and they broke up in the end?

Each of them sat on the sofa with his own private thoughts, holding a book neither of them could concentrate on, and studied through the night.

When it was time to sleep they behaved themselves. He Mu lay in bed thinking about the performance the day after tomorrow. The more he thought the more nervous he became, and he turned over several times. Chang Ming’an rested a hand on him through the blanket and said quietly, “Go to sleep.”

He Mu stopped turning at once, nodded, then remembered Chang Ming’an couldn’t see him in the dark and added, “Okay.”

The next day He Mu went to the film crew’s rehearsal. It was Christmas Eve and the streets were full of holiday spirit. Somehow the custom of eating apples on Christmas Eve had become popular, so everyone joined in. Merchants seized the chance to promote their goods, and every cup of milk tea came with a crisp apple. He Mu drank the tea but left the apple uneaten. He slipped it into his bag, planning to take it home.

After the rehearsal the whole team had another costume fitting.

Fei Qingqing enthusiastically helped He Mu into the prepared women’s clothing and then called over a makeup artist. He Mu felt extremely uncomfortable, his face burning. He pushed Fei Qingqing out of the dressing room and whispered, “Sister Qingqing, I can do it myself, I can do it myself…”

Alone in the dressing room he let his hair down and skillfully applied a light makeup that softened his features, adding a beauty mark to one cheek. Only then did he let Fei Qingqing back in. He tugged awkwardly at the skirt and asked, “Sister Qingqing, do you think it’s all right?”

Fei Qingqing exclaimed in genuine surprise, “He Mu, you look just like a girl!”

Her tone was pure praise and delight, so He Mu felt no discomfort at all. He smiled and said, “Okay.”

It was already evening when he arrived home. Chang Ming’an’s classes were nearly finished, and he had been working on final exam papers. The air conditioning was running. Chang Ming’an sat cross-legged on the sofa with a tablet on his lap and several papers spread across the coffee table. His hair was naturally messy from being at home, and he wore glasses. He looked warm and handsome.

He Mu changed his shoes, took the apple out of his schoolbag, set it on the table, then sat down beside Chang Ming’an and tucked his cold hands under his thighs.

Chang Ming’an looked at the apple, then at He Mu, clearly puzzled.

He Mu stared at him the way a small pet presents a treasure to its owner.

“It’s Christmas Eve, so we should eat apples.”

Chang Ming’an didn’t understand the connection at all. The forced link between “Christmas Eve” and “apple” made him laugh. He Mu hadn’t thought much of it at first; he had simply wanted to bring the apple home for him. But seeing Chang Ming’an laugh, he suddenly felt the whole idea was ridiculous. Embarrassment and annoyance rose together, and he reached to take the apple back.

“Hey, who said I wasn’t going to eat it?” Seeing the mix of anger and disappointment on He Mu’s face, Chang Ming’an quickly snatched the apple. To show how happy he was with the gift he took a bite without thinking.

He Mu panicked and tried to grab it. “It’s unwashed!”

Both of them found themselves funny. He Mu took the half-eaten apple, rinsed it with boiled water, and handed it back. He only relaxed when he saw Chang Ming’an finish the rest.

Remembering that tomorrow was Christmas Day, Chang Ming’an said, “He Jun just messaged me. They gave me two tickets to their play tomorrow, good seats in the front row. Do you want to go?”

He Mu had promised he would go, but he had a performance of his own. If he revealed it now the surprise would be ruined and all the earlier concealment would be pointless. He rolled his eyes, inventing an excuse. “I… I have a class at my part-time job tomorrow. It was a last-minute change.”

“Ah…” Chang Ming’an sounded clearly disappointed, yet he still said considerately, “It’s okay. We can watch it another time. What time do you finish tomorrow? I’ll pick you up.”

If Chang Ming’an didn’t go there would be no point. He Mu hurried to say, “No need, no need. You should go see it. It’s really good. This play is fantastic and worth watching.”

Chang Ming’an raised his eyebrows in suspicion. Afraid he wouldn’t believe him, He Mu added, “The plot is very well written, the actors are good, and the stage design is excellent. You must go.”

Chang Ming’an knew He Jun was the writer and director of the drama. Hearing such high praise, and remembering how close He Mu and He Jun had seemed before, he felt a small discomfort. His expression cooled and he answered indifferently, “Okay. I know.”

He Mu wasn’t sure whether Chang Ming’an would actually go, and the question kept circling in his mind until bedtime. He tossed and turned several times. This time Chang Ming’an made no attempt to soothe him. He simply lay on his back with his hands folded over his stomach, breathing steadily as if already asleep. He Mu felt uneasy, imagining how disappointing it would be if Chang Ming’an stayed away tomorrow.

He turned onto his side and looked at Chang Ming’an, then cautiously edged closer. At last he gritted his teeth, remembering what Chang Ming’an had said about liking him, and rolled over to wrap his arms around Chang Ming’an’s neck. He leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Are you asleep…”

Chang Ming’an made a soft nasal sound. “Hmm?”

“Are you going tomorrow?” He Mu asked pitifully. “You are going, right? It’s really beautiful. You have to believe me.”

Chang Ming’an had no choice. He turned over, wrapped He Mu in his own blanket, pulled him into his arms, and sighed. “All right, all right. Go to sleep.”

He Mu let go with satisfaction, nestled against him, and looked forward to tomorrow.

He Mu left early the next morning. He had a great deal to do. He was going to the theater to help set up the venue, arrange the props, run the final rehearsal, put on makeup, and settle his nerves for the evening performance. Although his solo dance lasted less than two minutes and he had no lines, those two minutes mattered to him.

It was Christmas Day. Chang Ming’an lay alone in bed, uncharacteristically wanting to stay under the covers a little longer.

He Mu had already left. When he got up he had whispered “Good morning,” but Chang Ming’an, though awake, had not answered. After the door closed he stretched and breathed in the scent that still lingered in the quilt, made even sweeter by the warmth.

On Saturday Chang Ming’an had nothing planned. He had originally intended to spend the day with He Mu, share a meal, and then go to the play together. Now he was alone at home, or rather alone with the cat. The two of them stared at each other.

When evening finally arrived he checked the time and realized he needed to leave. He changed clothes and sent He Mu a message asking what time class finished and whether he wanted to be picked up. There was no reply.

Outside the theater a long queue had already formed. The plays were non-profit and tickets were distributed on site. Their growing reputation had created long lines, a kind of accidental scarcity. Chang Ming’an sighed and took his place at the end. Many of the people waiting were students from his school, and quite a few recognized him. Some of the bolder girls greeted him; he smiled and nodded to each of them.

When the staff maintaining order saw him they quickly led him inside, saying a seat had been arranged.

He Jun had given him two tickets in the middle of the third row, neither too close nor too far. Because Chang Ming’an came alone the seat beside him stayed empty. He sat in the warm theater and saw that the stage was already set. The actors were backstage; only the prop, lighting, and sound crews were making final adjustments.

In fact He Mu had spotted him from backstage but kept himself carefully hidden.

He had already changed and finished his makeup. Everyone who saw him was stunned. Some didn’t recognize him at first and only realized after a second look. He Jun stared for a long moment before saying, “You look quite good.”

The theater gradually filled until every seat was taken. Because of the one-person-one-ticket system the empty seat next to Chang Ming’an remained empty until he finally offered it to a photographer carrying a camera.

Backstage He Mu was incredibly nervous, his heart pounding as if it might break through his chest. He Jun, directing operations with a walkie-talkie, stood beside him, patted his shoulder, and said, “Don’t be nervous. Just do it the way you always do.” He Mu nodded and gave a tight smile. He was wearing lipstick, a beautiful fuchsia that made the shape of his mouth clear and attractive. He Jun awkwardly looked away.

The play began on time. Five deep, powerful chimes rang out. The stage lights faded until the entire theater was dark except for the fluorescent paper markings on the floor that twinkled like stars. It was He Mu’s first time experiencing that sense of ritual, and it moved him deeply. Every distracting thought vanished; his mind became clear and empty.

The actors told the audience stories of utopia. Chang Ming’an, who had come mainly to pass the time, found himself drawn in. Although the story had many imperfect parts, the questions it raised left room for reflection. Whether to remain in a utopia as stable as a fortress, free from insult and disdain, enjoying so-called love and freedom, or to leave, was worth pondering.

More than halfway through the stage lights went out, leaving only dim ground lights and a single spotlight from above. A girl with long flowing hair stepped into the circle of light, wearing a white top and a light blue skirt. When He Jun designed the lighting for this scene he had deliberately avoided extra top light, so the girl’s face remained slightly blurred and the shadows of her lashes fell beneath her eyes like butterflies about to take flight. She was a memory, and also the unspeakable secrets of the heroine.

Chang Ming’an, who had been leaning back in his seat, suddenly sat up straight. He recognized He Mu almost at once.

The clothes Fei Qingqing had chosen were light and thin so they wouldn’t hinder movement. He Mu danced within that small circle of light like a cloud reflected in the heart of a lake.

At last he sat on the stage, hugging his knees, while the dialogue between the male and female leads came to an end.

“The boy took her hand and led her away from the attic, away from that home, away from that town, to a place very, very far away.”

“Where is that place? Is it Utopia?”

“Perhaps. The little girl was there sewing rag dolls for those poor children, and the children gathered around her excitedly, watching her sew and kissing her face.”

“Do they love her?”

“They do.”

“Will they leave her?”

“Yes. But their hearts already belong to the girl.”

“And you? Will you leave?”

“Would you like to leave with me?”

The conversation ended abruptly. The girl’s reply was drowned by music that suddenly swelled, and the lights went out. The audience erupted in thunderous applause, but Chang Ming’an remained still for a long time.

When the lights returned the actors took their bows.

He Mu had been reluctant to join the curtain call, but everyone persuaded him that since he had performed he should take a bow. In the end he agreed. Microphones were passed around and each person introduced themselves and offered brief thanks. When it was He Mu’s turn the entire audience was astonished the moment he spoke. It was a boy’s voice.

He Mu simply stated his name, thanked everyone, and handed the microphone to the next person. The audience applauded him kindly. He felt both nervous and a little happy. He didn’t dare look at Chang Ming’an; his eyes stayed fixed on his toes.

Chang Ming’an kept staring at him.

He had never seen He Mu in women’s clothing other than a cheongsam. He was happy for the applause He Mu received, yet also felt a quiet regret. Now everyone knew how good He Mu was, not only him.

When the event ended Chang Ming’an sent a message.

“Merry Christmas. Let’s go home together. I’ll be waiting outside.”

He Mu replied at once: “Okay.”

Chang Ming’an waited outside the theater. The audience had all left. It was dark and windy, yet he felt no cold. Instead a strange joy and satisfaction filled him, like a fire that warmed his whole body.

He waited until most of the crew had gone, but He Mu still had not appeared. He went back inside and saw that He Mu had changed into ordinary clothes, hair tied up, standing opposite He Jun. The two of them were talking. He Mu’s back was to him, so he could not see his expression, but he could clearly see He Jun’s face. He Jun looked hesitant, at a loss for words, cheeks slightly flushed and gaze intense.