The room was filled with the soft strumming of a guitar and the faint sound of a song playing from Ji Yu's phone. He kept replaying the same part—dragging the progress bar back again and again—because there was a section of the melody he wasn't familiar with and couldn't quite keep up.
Tang Li had been listening to the intro on repeat for a while. Eventually, he sighed and opened a game on his phone, though his gaze occasionally drifted back to Ji Yu, eyes closed, lost in his own little musical world.
Ji Yu had always been quiet, but back in high school, that quietness came with a kind of boyish awkwardness. Today, however, Tang Li noticed something different—something softer, almost… cute.
He shook his head quickly, as if to clear the thought, and refocused on his game.
The small apartment was lively in its own way: two boys, each doing their own thing, the repetitive strum of the guitar mixing with bursts of game sound effects. The TV in the background switched from commercials to the fresh face of an actress neither of them recognized.
Then, finally, the guitar aligned perfectly with the song.
"It's hard to persuade people to part. A beautiful story that came too late…"
The voice came from Tang Li. He'd practiced this song's tone just for Ji Yu, knowing it was one of his favorites.
Ji Yu looked over, surprised. Tang Li's voice, complete with a soft rasp and breathy quality, was startlingly similar to the original singer's. For once, Ji Yu didn't keep his eyes shut—he leaned closer, scanning the C key sheet music on his phone, determined to finish the song together.
Tang Li's game screen went black again, but his singing didn't stop. Ji Yu picked up the rhythm, and together they stumbled their way through the song—imperfect, but in sync. No audience, but still their first performance together.
The midday sunlight spilled over the final lyrics on Ji Yu's phone screen, the golden reflection lighting up his lowered lashes.
"Your voice sounds just like the original," Ji Yu said with a grin. "You should transfer to our broadcasting department. You could charm all the girls with that deep voice—then break hearts for fun. Tempting, isn't it?"
Tang Li rolled his eyes, but for some reason, Ji Yu's teasing—half-joking, half-serious—eased the irritation he'd been feeling earlier. He reached behind him to grab his phone again, ready for one last match.
As he dove into the game, his peripheral vision caught a pair of bare, delicate feet crossing the room. He abruptly abandoned his plan to charge recklessly at the enemy's base, turning instead to deal with the minions.
Ji Yu had set down his guitar and was now leaning over to watch him play, chuckling at the frantic, slightly trembling way Tang Li tapped his screen.
"Don't laugh. We can still win this," Tang Li said with mock seriousness.
The atmosphere grew lively again, the game announcer's voice blending with the lines from the drama playing on TV. In the end, they lost—but the defeat was met with Ji Yu's laughter and a flood of "colorful" language in the team chat.
"'Don't laugh, we can win.' Sounds like a great title for your autobiography," Ji Yu teased.
Tang Li opened the chat box, intending to apologize to his teammates, but Ji Yu reached over toward the mic button.
"Open it. Let me curse them out for you."
Tang Li gently pushed away Ji Yu's finger. "My friends don't stoop that low."
The insults kept popping up in the chat, but Tang Li found himself oddly at ease. He'd never really been that into gaming—it was just something he did because his old friends played.
When Ji Yu picked up his guitar again, Tang Li started another match. Sometimes he glanced at the sunny window, sometimes at his phone, but always keeping Ji Yu in his peripheral vision—fingers flicking at the strings, brow furrowed when a chord tripped him up, smiling like a kid when he nailed a passage.
Somehow, this small apartment felt warmer than Tang Li had imagined. And yet, deep down, he knew—it wasn't his place.
That fleeting pang of melancholy faded when Ji Yu's gentle playing filled the room again.
Time always flew when you were doing something you loved.
"I'll order takeout," Tang Li said after a long losing streak. "What do you want for dinner?"
"You're hungry? I'll make noodles for you," Ji Yu replied.
The line could've been a cheap joke, but out of Ji Yu's mouth it sounded nothing of the sort—just natural, even warm.
"Actually, I'll reheat yesterday's dishes. You don't mind, right, Xiao Li?"
It wasn't really a question—Ji Yu was already heading to the kitchen, turning on the stove.
"'Dirty hands, clean stomach,'" Tang Li grinned. "At least your cooking has fewer questionable elements than river water."
Banter was their language. Ji Yu shot him a cold look from the kitchen, but Tang Li just lounged against the back of the sofa, unbothered.
He slipped on an apron, lowered his head to tie it neatly at the back—a graceful, practiced motion.
"By the way," Tang Li asked, "why's your name Ji Yu? It sounds nice, but… kind of like a girl's name."
"I didn't used to be Ji Yu. 'Ji' is my mom's surname."
Tang Li nodded. "Well… it's still a nice name."
Ji Yu ignored the dry compliment, tossing yesterday's leftovers into the pan. The oil splattered, but he didn't flinch.
"Then do you know why I'm called Tang Li?" Tang Li asked.
"Maybe your parents hoped you'd be more polite. Not that I've seen it," Ji Yu said without looking up.
Tang Li's mouth twitched. Before he could come up with a comeback, Ji Yu went on, "I used to have the surname Zhao, but my mom had me change it. I'm fine with it now."
They fell into silence. Tang Li watched as Ji Yu held the pan by its far handle with one slender arm, somehow lifting it with ease.
Reheated food might not sound exciting, but when cooked by someone as skilled as Ji Yu, it was guaranteed to be good.
"I could eat here every day," Tang Li said after a bite. "Your cooking's way better than the cafeteria's. No wonder you never eat there."
"Sure, as long as you bring the ingredients," Ji Yu replied matter-of-factly.
They ate quietly, as they always did. Ji Yu wasn't the type to waste money on luxuries, and an extra mouth to feed was only worth it if it came with free meat and vegetables.
"Why didn't you major in music?" Tang Li asked suddenly.
"I transferred schools all through high school. Getting into Yuyang University at all was a miracle—I wasn't about to gamble my future on a hobby. And music's expensive—lessons, training camps, the exams… it all costs money. Broadcasting is safer. At least I can make a living reading ad scripts."
Tang Li's lips twitched again, but he let it go, steering the conversation to lighter topics.
Outside, the bright midday sun had vanished, replaced by a thick blanket of clouds. Ji Yu turned up the volume on his phone as he washed the dishes. Tang Li leaned against the window, watching people below hurry home.
"Seriously? Full sun at noon, and now rain again?" He checked the forecast. "Ah, thunderstorms. Guess someone's transcending to immortality today."
Ji Yu liked Tang Li for this—for filling the silence without expecting much in return, for staying in his world without asking for permission. Most people, after not getting the response they wanted, would simply drift away.
Tang Li stayed.
As Tang Li slipped on his jacket to leave, Ji Yu said, "Wait."
He came back with a folded umbrella. "It's about to pour. Take it."
Tang Li changed his shoes, stepping to the door.
"Bring it back tomorrow," Ji Yu added with a grin.
Not exactly the moodiest thing to say in a rainstorm, but Tang Li only raised an "OK" sign and headed down the stairs.
No matter what they did—playing music, gaming, or eating dinner together—Tang Li always seemed to leave Ji Yu with a good mood.
The low glow of the ceiling light filled the small apartment. Outside, rain streaked the window, and thunder rolled across the sky.
Some bonds were distant, some unstable—but maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out fine.
And then, like a sudden chord, lightning split the sky.
"The most surprising prize I've ever won was finding you… in my dreams."