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Wind stirs, leaves descend

This novel is dedicated to my favorite Chinese pianist and a famous Taiwanese pop star born in America. One is a world-renowned pianist, Ye Xi, a piano prodigy, and the other is a high-profile (American-grown Asian), Yan Alex Feng, a huge pop star and a true celebrity. They met in their early days, rising to fame together, appearing in each other's concerts and performances, with their veiled affection visible to the entire nation. Amidst the crowded audience, they playfully expressed their love, sparking nationwide excitement over their rumored relationship. However, constrained by the norms of their time and society, they could not make their love public. How will they continue their relationship? Will they end up not seeing each other anymore, or will they be brave enough to come out of the closet? Note!!! Please note that this novel contains explicit content. I recommend you start reading from Chapter 15; then, you can browse the previous chapters to learn about the childhoods of the two main characters.

NicoleShin · LGBT+
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53 Chs

Libido

When I woke up in the morning, I didn't know what time it was. Suddenly, I woke up with a splitting headache. There's a meeting at two in the afternoon, and both Wang Zhuo and Teacher Zhou will attend. After leaving the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Wang Zhuo has been working on international exchanges at the Ministry of Culture. One reason is to have a peaceful life, and he personally has a special interest in literature and art – at least that's what he says. Thinking about these things made my head ache even more.

As I opened my eyes, I tried to get up, but my thighs wouldn't budge. The hotel sheets rubbed against my body as I gently turned over. It made a clean, rustling sound. Fortunately, I covered myself with the blanket and heard some unfamiliar and strong smells. Vaguely, I saw another back under the blanket. Trying hard to recall what happened last night, I couldn't remember anything except for the pain in my body, the overwhelming smell, and a mysterious sense of satisfaction.

"Xi Xi, are you awake?" It was Yan Feng's voice, and suddenly he leaned in, turning to embrace me with one hand. The sensations from last night returned, a passion I had never experienced before. When it came to stories of love and romance, I had heard too many from friends or classmates. Growing up in the music academy, we were undoubtedly different. The world of music is vibrant, but to some extent, studying music can be dull. Strangely, the tedious and boring practice doesn't wear away one's energy. Instead, it nurtures the passion and loneliness within us. No one wants to be a lonely ascetic in life forever. Many people choose to travel together, experiencing intimate relationships early on. Besides helping to dispel hardship and loneliness, consuming excess energy, desire is nourished. From desire, a force grows that can counterbalance the passion and loneliness of art.

However, I have never relied on intimate relationships. It seems like I am naturally unafraid of the flames of art. I enjoy the intense emotions it brings, as well as the loneliness. Perhaps someone secretly exchanged another part of my soul to gain this power. So, is desire indispensable for me? At least, I have never expected it.

I have rejected many people before, yet here I am, so close to someone, and it turns out to be a man. My real interaction with him hasn't even exceeded a week. Perhaps there were signs of this in past dreams. I think of many people – Dai Yanzhi, He Tiantian, Li Li – all eventually frozen into the image of Yan Feng. It turns out that the man getting closer and closer in those dreams was him.

There's nothing strange about it. Brahms, Schubert, even Beethoven, they fell in love with men. I am one of them. If I have their talent, why can't I live their lives? Moreover, perhaps I have even more talent than them. No one else could win the Chopin Prize on their eighteenth birthday. But facing Yan Feng, I still feel unfamiliar with this emotion. I choose not to think about it anymore and respond to his embrace instinctively with my body.

"Xi Xi, you're truly beautiful. I'm sorry, I drank too much last night. Perhaps I'm still not sober now, speaking incoherently," he said, resting his chin on my shoulder while holding me. I could feel our bodies heating up. I gently touched his cheek, cupping his face slowly. I kissed him passionately, and he quickly responded, opening his mouth. We were both eager to take the lead, alternating between capturing each other's lips.

Our bodies didn't stop either. The sensations from last night woke up as our abdomens touched, and we were like novice musicians, wanting to repeat the practice eagerly after sight-reading a delightful score for the first time. We repeated until we became familiar with every chord, every rise and fall, every dynamic symbol. But we both knew this composition was elusive; it kept changing, modulating, more enigmatic than Berg's scores. So, we immersed ourselves in it, playing more greedily, touching every smooth particle, embracing every crescendo, listening to every soft moan. Eventually, in the climax, we paused, slowly entering the final movement. Our intertwined bodies parted ways, leaving only tightly clasped hands and legs pressed against each other, trembling slightly. Sweat soaked our hair, giving me the familiar burning sensation, as if I had just performed Prokofiev's concerto.

"Xi Xi, I really love your hair, the jet-black strands twisted into a circle. Now, with the sweat dripping, it looks like pearls in an oyster shell. I want to tell you, maybe I've missed you for a long time, perhaps since the first time I saw you eight years ago. I felt you were like the clouds of my hometown. I've been lonely for too long; I always felt like I didn't belong in the United States until I met you. You seem like the boy I saw by the Da Hu lake in Taipei when I was a child," Yan Feng said softly against my ear. The last word trembled a bit, "And your talent, it shines like gold. I envy you so much, maybe even jealous. I might have suppressed it for too long. Yesterday, I realized you wouldn't reject me. So, I threw God aside, and now you are my faith."

"What about Katherine? Didn't she give you a sense of belonging?" After a pause, I hesitated. I knew that saying this might not be the most appropriate thing at the moment. Initially, I wanted to say something else, like "This is my first time" or "I've missed you a lot." But hearing his words, I wanted to believe them, yet some other emotions stirred within me. Thinking about his past with Katherine, there was a hint of hesitation.

"Katherine and I shared a mutual understanding. We were both bullied when we were young, and naturally, we ended up together. It was a mutual protection among the vulnerable. But with you, it's different. You are..." "What am I, and what are we now?" I suddenly felt a bit melancholic. He held me tightly, unable to speak for a moment. "I've put you in a difficult position. Actually, it's not a big deal. I've heard about many situations like this, from ancient Greece to musical legends. And you grew up in the United States; they call this a 'one-night stand,' and it doesn't have to mean anything. Although it's my first time, I don't think it's particularly... you can continue as a new believer." He fell silent again, holding me even tighter. "Xi Xi, I miss you so much, I cherish your first time. Now, I've abandoned the past. Do you remember the letter I wrote to you? You are my sun. I can't say I'm serious, using alcohol to get close to you. I admit it's quite cowardly, but coming to Beijing, this is already my greatest courage." I believed him, felt a bit sorry for him, and gently stroked his back. "Do you know, I'm going to Hanover in September. In the future, you'll be in Taipei or New York, and we'll be far apart."

"Hanover, are you sure you're going to study in Germany? That's great. I've said it before; you belong to the world. Hanover is close to Berlin, and you're that angel." He said with an indulgent smile, caressing my shoulder and neck.

"I mean, are you coming back to see me?" I finally said what I wanted to say.

"Yes, I'll go every month, without fail." He kissed me excitedly.

"I'll come to pick you up." I said calmly, but deep down, I felt sweet. I wanted to say, "I miss you so much, I'll think of you every day." "Are you so easily giving up on your faith? We shouldn't be allowed."

"I temporarily believe in Socrates. Actually, when I was in New York, despite being busy, I sometimes went to my world-famous friend's place for dinner because of work. After dinner, I would attend some cocktail parties. I met many queer people during that time, some were hippies, and some were artists. I loved them so much. I even stayed at the Chelsea Hotel for a while. During that time, I thought about many things, and I came to a conclusion: God is not the only correct existence in this world."

"Well, I understand. Is New York that great?" I turned around, lying on my back, and glanced at the clock on the wall—12:33. Silently calculating the time until the meeting, an hour and a half. It would take about five minutes to get from the hotel's 9th floor to the meeting room. I let out a slow breath.

"It's amazing. I hope you'll come back to New York for performances in the future. I'll definitely take you to those places. I often go to Broadway musicals or jazz performances. It's fantastic. Of course, if you ever decide to visit New York on vacation, I'll accompany you." He looked at me with joy.

"Alright, what do your friends talk to you about? I'm curious," I asked.

"The most recent one was a few weeks before I went to Taipei. We were discussing Freud's psychoanalysis," he chuckled, "although sometimes I find Freud quite abnormal, now I believe in some of his ideas."

"I've heard about it. I haven't had the time to systematically read his books, but I know about the concept of libido. Are you referring to that? The relationship between sexual desire and creative impulse, they are intimately connected. The intensity of a person's vitality is determined by libido," I smiled. I always felt that this idea threw morality out the window, and now I found myself immersed in it. I thought of Wilde's book, the absolute beauty in art has no morality. If it's for creating beauty, the current desire can be forgiven. I could only succumb to the libido that lingered within me.

"Hahaha, Xi Xi, you've read Freud's naughty thoughts too," Yan Feng laughed heartily. "I'm not just about sexual desire for you, nor is it a curiosity between same sexes." Suddenly, he became serious again, embracing me tightly and kissing me deeply.

"Alright, I have a meeting downstairs soon. Today's meeting is crucial," I muttered.

"I have a flight back to Taipei tonight. What time will you finish the meeting? Can we have dinner together?" Yan Feng asked eagerly.

"It should end around 4 pm, but afterward, I might have dinner with Wang Zhuo and others."

"Who is Wang Zhuo? I haven't heard you mention him before."

"He's the Deputy Minister of Culture, currently in charge of international exchanges. He will be leading various tours when I study in Germany and return to China."

He looked disappointed. I wanted to tell him that I would miss him, but the words stopped at my lips.

"Don't be like this. I'll be a little sad," he said.

"Will you be sad? I'm so happy," I replied.

"Alright, what time is your flight? I'll try to come back before you go to the airport."

"11:40."

"Alright, got it. I need to get up and take a shower to prepare for the meeting," I said.

"Hurry up then," he sat up, helping me to my feet.

I stood up, feeling a sudden sense of shyness, and quickly walked into the shower. Besides playing the piano, the sensation of hot water flowing over my body was something I enjoyed the most. Everything outside melted away in the water, Yan Feng's lingering kisses, and all other liquids were carried away by the water, leaving me purified and incredibly clean. But this time, Yan Feng unexpectedly opened the bathroom door, joining me in the shower. I didn't know if this was a river of love or murky sewage. However, as he drew near, none of it seemed to matter. I remembered our conversation just now, from skepticism to certainty that this was libido. Perhaps we were offering our purity to the goddess of beauty willingly. Moreover, in the warm water, the gentle touches were incredibly sweet.

 

 

 

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