As soon as the exams ended, the day of celebration for the entire grade arrived.
When saying "the entire grade," the Class of 1987 actually only consisted of three classes: Oil Painting, Chinese Painting, and Sculpture. Each class had about twenty students, totaling just over sixty people. Back when Qiu Yun was in university in her original time, there would have been a week-long "short semester" after exams, regardless of whether it was winter or summer break. But now, there was no such thing. After the exams, students waited for their grades while preparing for the final and grandest event of the year—the New Year’s Gala.
The importance of this event was no less than that of the Spring Festival Gala to the people of the eighties. Every night, Qiu Yun’s roommates and the girls in the neighboring dorm practiced a chorus with voices like wailing ghosts and howling wolves—Zhang Mingmin’s "We Have a Name Called China."
Heaven knew that she rejected such a performance in her heart. But seeing everyone so full of enthusiasm, she couldn't bring herself to say no.
The gala began at seven in the evening, held in the same ballroom where they had received the American visitors. Qiu Yun and the others went for a stage rehearsal around five. Since it was a chorus, the stage requirements were simple; they only sang through it twice and were done. After eating at the cafeteria, they rushed backstage to put on their makeup and took their seats early, waiting for the seven o'clock start. Qiu Yun spotted Liang He’s figure entering through the door. He was looking around as he walked, seemingly searching for a seat. There was an empty spot next to Qiu Yun, and she was just about to wave him over when she saw someone following behind him—Lu Xialan.
Qiu Yun immediately pulled her hand back and turned her head, pretending she hadn't seen them. This reaction was almost subconscious. But not long after she turned away, she heard a voice from beside her: "Is this seat taken?"
The voice was male, but when Qiu Yun looked up, she met a pair of large, watery eyes. Beyond that, she saw that those eyes were adorned with light makeup, the eyebrows had been shaped, there was rouge on the cheeks, and the lips had a lovely sheen. She wore a snow-white sweater, with a pink coat draped over her arm.
"Professor Liang?" Qiu Yun forced her gaze from Lu Xialan to Liang He, completing a four-stage expression of "daze-surprise-recovery-welcome" in a single second. She said warmly, "It’s free, it’s free. You came today too?"
"If it's free, I'll sit." Liang He sat down next to Qiu Yun.
Lu Xialan sat beside him, smiling politely. "Thank you."
To be fair, Qiu Yun didn't actually have a prejudice against Lu Xialan. Gao Zhifei had indeed led a group of people to attend her lectures later on, and they had returned full of praise. However, Qiu Yun didn't have much of a liking for her either, likely because she knew how things ended between her and Liang He—a bit of a preconceived bias.
There was still a while before the opening, so Lu Xialan chatted idly with Qiu Yun.
"What's your program for today?"
"We're doing a small chorus."
"What are you singing?"
"'We Have a Name Called China.'"
"Oh, I know that one. Zhang Mingmin's song; it's quite nice. Is there accompaniment?"
"Yes, Chen Guozhen from the dorm next door plays the piano. She’s accompanying us."
"Which number are you in the lineup?"
"Fifth."
Liang He sat between Lu Xialan and Qiu Yun, so their conversation had to bypass him. Every time Qiu Yun answered Lu Xialan’s questions, her gaze would first catch Liang He’s profile before landing on Lu Xialan’s face. Normally, she wouldn't have thought much of it, but today Qiu Yun had a performance. Her face was covered in a thick, white layer of powder, her eyebrows were drawn thick and dark, two patches of rouge sat on her cheeks like a monkey’s bottom, and her lips were as red as if she had been drinking blood. So, every time her gaze swept past Liang He to speak, she felt his peripheral vision studying her, a faint hint of a smile in his eyes.
Fortunately, it wasn't long before the show began.
Two hosts walked onto the podium. One was Gao Zhifei, wearing a suit with his hair slicked back in a pompadour, glistening with mousse. The other was a girl from their grade; she looked familiar, but Qiu Yun couldn't recall her name. She had a voluminous, permed hairstyle and wore a bright red, tight-fitting A-line dress with exaggeratedly puffed shoulders. Both were wearing the distinctive makeup of the eighties. It was the first time Qiu Yun had seen such hosting attire outside of a television screen. She wanted to laugh, but then she thought of herself and realized there was nothing funny about it.
In Qiu Yun’s eyes, this gala was a high-quality university imitation of an eighties Spring Festival Gala—cross-talk, song and dance, recitations, and sketches; the hosting style and performance formats were all there. However, the atmosphere throughout was very warm, especially after some teachers began to leave later on, leaving the students to their own devices. That was when the most exciting part of the gala truly began. For instance, the first half consisted of songs like "We Have a Name Called China," but by the second half, the speakers were blasting "A Fire in Winter" and "Any Empty Wine Bottles for Sale?" It was at this moment that Qiu Yun felt a sense of novelty; songs she had never heard before turned out to be so beautiful and classic.
The atmosphere was reaching its peak. Suddenly, someone in the audience shouted, "Let Professor Liang give us a song too!"
Gao Zhifei was on stage with the microphone. "Professor Liang, come on! Professor Liang, give us one!"
Everyone joined in the clamor, and someone even whistled.
Liang He was initially surprised and waved his hand at Gao Zhifei in refusal. But the shouting grew louder, and even Qiu Yun found it fun. She turned her head and clapped for him. "Professor Liang! Give us one!"
The spotlight swung over. Liang He’s eyes shimmered under the light, and when he smiled, his upper eyelids swallowed some of that glow. Qiu Yun remembered that many years later, those eyes would be framed by crow's feet—a gift of time that added sexiness and depth. Just as she was thinking this, those eyes suddenly swept toward her. He gave her a helpless smile, appearing to give in, or perhaps as if he were consulting her opinion. But in that split second, the owner of those eyes had already stood up and walked toward the stage.
The crowd erupted in cheers.
As Liang He passed the third row, he casually took a guitar from a student. The staff, showing great presence of mind, placed a chair and a mic stand on the stage.
Qiu Yun hadn't known Liang He could play the guitar. She inadvertently turned her head and saw Lu Xialan with her index fingers crossed in front of her chest, staring intently at the stage. In her mind, Qiu Yun added a special effect of two beating hearts over Lu Xialan’s eyes.
Liang He sat on the chair, crossed his right leg, and held the guitar. His right hand swept casually across the strings. Speaking into the microphone, his voice was low: "What do you want to hear?"
With just that one sentence, the audience went wild.
"A Man Should Better Himself!"
"The Girl from Dabancheng!"
"Big Brother, Big Brother, How Are You!"
Song requests rose from all sides.
Qiu Yun pressed a hand to her forehead. *Dear audience, the songs you're requesting are a real disservice to the pose this handsome guy is striking on stage.*
Fortunately, Liang He was unaffected. He smiled with a touch of nonchalance, plucked the strings again to tune them, and as the guitar intro began, the boiling atmosphere of the hall instantly fell silent.
She heard him sing:
"Still leaning into the sleepless night,
Watching the stars at the edge of the sky,
Still hearing the violin,
Sobbing and murmuring in its flirtation,
Why is only a crescent moon left,
Remaining in my sky,
After tonight, all news will be severed..."
It was the Cantonese version of "Moonlight Serenade"!
Qiu Yun sat up straight, staring blankly at the stage.
The lights dimmed, and the entire space went dark; only Liang He on the stage was illuminated.
He played the guitar and sang softly, his voice deep and magnetic. The microphone and speakers weren't of great quality, but even so, this simple, rustic ballroom was suddenly filled with a romantic aura.
This was the first time Qiu Yun had heard Liang He sing.
She knew his speaking voice was pleasant, but she hadn't expected his singing to be so... beautiful. She remembered a scene of déjà vu—many years later—in *his* many years later, at Qiu Yun’s freshman orientation gala. Someone had also clamored for Professor Liang to sing a song. At that time, he still looked young, but he was already the Vice Dean of the academy. He had smiled and waved them off, saying he was tone-deaf, and the others hadn't pressed him further.
She hadn't expected that in this lifetime, she would actually hear Liang He sing.
She hadn't expected him to sing in Cantonese.
And she certainly hadn't expected him to sing... so well.
The audience below was mesmerized. Male students were already rare at the Fine Arts Academy, and someone like Liang He was practically an endangered species. As Liang He sat there playing and singing, who knew how many girls wished they could turn into that guitar.
Qiu Yun watched in a daze for a long time until someone beside her spoke.
"Xiao Yun, do you know this song too?"
Qiu Yun turned toward the voice. It was Lu Xialan asking her.
"I heard you humming along softly." She looked curious. "This song by Hacken Lee was just released not long ago. I didn't expect you to know it."
"Oh... no, I was just humming randomly."
Lu Xialan continued to smile, but it was clear she didn't believe Qiu Yun.
Just then, Liang He returned.
Qiu Yun quickly changed the subject—though she didn't really need to. Her roommates Wang Chen, Chang Huan, and Liu Yujin all scrambled over to express their admiration for Liang He:
"Professor Liang! You were amazing!"
"Professor Liang, what song was that? It was so beautiful!"
"Professor Liang, you sing so well!"
"Professor Liang, you're incredible...!"
Liang He gave a shallow smile. Aside from saying "thank you," he didn't say much else, appearing quite accustomed to such scenes. The performances on stage resumed, and everyone's attention was quickly drawn back.
Only Qiu Yun was still thinking about that song.
She quietly asked Liang He, "Professor Liang, was that song by Hacken Lee?"
"Yes. You know it?"
"No, today was the first time I heard you sing it. Is it a new song from this year?"
"Yes, it was just released."
—So this song was released in 1988. The first time Qiu Yun had heard it was actually in 2014 on *The Voice of China*.
"Professor Liang, you can play the guitar and sing in Cantonese?" Even though she had just heard it, Qiu Yun somehow asked again.
"Why? Is it against the law?" Liang He seemed to be in a good mood and asked jokingly.
"It's just quite a surprise."
Liang He turned to look at her, smiled, and said nothing.
"Do you like listening to music?"
"I do."
"What kind do you like?"
"I like..." Qiu Yun wanted to say she liked JJ Lin and Jay Chou, or perhaps Hua Zhou and Chen Li. But the words reached her lips and she deliberately changed them: "I like Second Hand Rose, Omnipotent Youth Society, Miserable Faith, and Re-TROS."
"What?" Liang He was indeed hesitant.
Qiu Yun burst out laughing. Those were all names of rock bands; in truth, she hadn't listened to them much either.
Liang He ignored her and turned back to the stage. A student-adapted *Errenzhuan* was being performed. The melody was still that of the Northeast, but the form was lively, incorporating disco into the traditional folk dance.
Liang He suddenly leaned toward Qiu Yun and said in a low voice, "There's a good place, Phoenix Street."
"What?"
"When you get your grades, when are you going home?"
"What?" The music on stage fluctuated in volume, and Qiu Yun couldn't hear clearly.
"The last grade comes out on Friday. I still have to hold a small meeting for you all. Then you can go home."
"Oh." Qiu Yun heard this sentence clearly. She thought to herself, *What's so mysterious about a meeting?* She said, "Gao Zhifei hasn't notified us yet."
Qiu Yun didn't know what Liang He was trying to say; it was fragmented and nonsensical. At that moment, Lu Xialan suddenly poked her head out from behind Liang He. Facing both Liang He and Qiu Yun, she said with a beaming smile, "Our college is having a gala tomorrow too. Are you bringing your students?"
The change of topic was abrupt, but Lu Xialan’s expression was warm and natural.
Qiu Yun thought there was something interesting about the way Lu Xialan asked that. Her eyes darted around as she looked at Liang He with a smile.
Liang He’s face showed no particular expression. He turned the question back to Qiu Yun: "Are you all free tomorrow?"
Qiu Yun tried to find an answer in Liang He’s face but came up empty. After a moment's thought, she said, "We have something to do tomorrow night."
"The exams are over. What else is there to do?"
"Well... our dorm agreed to go to the Xinhua Bookstore to see if there are any new books before the New Year." Qiu Yun made up an excuse on the spot.
"Oh. All right then," Liang He said, taking her word for it. "Then you go ahead."
Qiu Yun said nothing.
Lu Xialan, however, looked disappointed. She said with a smile, "That’s a bit of a pity. Back when your Professor Liang was in university, he used to bring his students to watch quite often."
"It's fine," Liang He said, his expression unchanged. "I'll bring Gao Zhifei and the others tomorrow."
***
