Lately, as the weekends approached, my teammates were all itching to go out and blow off some steam. The Olympics were drawing closer by the day, and this phase of intensive training was nearing its end. What awaited everyone was a rigorous internal selection process, followed by the final closed-door training. Most people would be eliminated, losing their chance to step onto the Olympic stage.
Old Seven and Big Fatty Gao invited me to an internet cafe, but I turned them down. I stayed in the dorm alone. I hadn't checked my Weibo in a while; by now, no one was pestering me for photos of Ling Xiao anymore. They had probably all realized that our relationship wasn't exactly great. I tossed my phone aside, intending to head to the training hall for some practice, but as I pulled open the door, I saw Ling Xiao stepping out from the room opposite mine.
It was incredibly awkward. I scratched my head and gave a half-hearted "Hey," pretending to greet him casually.
Ling Xiao looked at me quietly. When he didn't want to see you, he wouldn't even give you a passing glance, but when he did choose to look, his gaze was incredibly deep. I didn't know whether to walk past him or wait for him to move first. Just as I was feeling unbearably restless, he gently closed his door and spoke.
"Didn't you want to know about my brother?"
"Huh?" I gasped, not expecting him to bring this up so suddenly.
"Are you free now?"
I couldn't be more free if I tried. I nodded.
"Follow me."
***
I was indeed curious about Ling Xiao’s brother. Honestly, I was interested in his entire family tree. If I had the chance, I really wanted to have a deep discussion with his parents and grandparents: *How did your Ling family produce such a silent block of wood? Do you know how infuriating this young master of yours is?*
Ling Xiao led me to the screening room. Usually, we gathered here to watch match recordings of international opponents while Coach Hu analyzed their techniques and tactics. Ling Xiao told me to wait and stepped out for a moment.
The screening room was cold and deserted. I sat in the chair he pointed out, filled with doubt. A moment later, Ling Xiao returned with a disc in his hand.
I watched his back as he lowered the projection screen and started the disc. He walked to the side to turn off the lights, and the room instantly plunged into darkness. Only the light from the screen illuminated his silhouette. His freshly washed and dried hair had a warm, soft halo under the light; he looked so young and handsome, yet so silent and mature.
I sneezed. Ling Xiao glanced back at me, walked over to draw the curtains, and then pulled out a chair to sit across from me.
I really wanted to know—were these occasional gestures of his just a general sense of kindness, or were they special, meant only for certain people?
The recording looked like a match from many years ago. The competitors all looked Chinese. I craned my neck, trying to identify the logo of the sporting event.
"It's the fencing competition from the 200X National Games," Ling Xiao said.
I hummed in understanding and nodded. That was nine years ago. Ling Xiao would have only been thirteen then.
By now, I had guessed it: Ling Xiao’s brother was also a fencer. I wasn't particularly surprised; it was within expectations.
The recording was of the National Games finals. As the two athletes entered the strip, I was just about to ask which one was his brother when the director cut to close-ups of the two men.
I recognized one of them—Yan Sheng. I had seen him later in various major competitions; he was a senior of mine. Clearly, he wasn't Ling Xiao’s brother. The other athlete was a clean-cut young man who didn't look like Ling Xiao at all. Not only was his temperament gentler, but even his features bore little resemblance. He shook hands with Yan Sheng, and even in the high-pressure environment of a final, his smile was as refreshing as a spring breeze. An athlete's intuition told me he was a master; his aura was entirely different from Ling Xiao’s, yet it represented a different kind of strength.
If not for the solemn expression on Ling Xiao’s face, I wouldn't have been able to confirm this was his brother. Why didn't the two brothers look alike at all?
The commentator began introducing the athletes, and their names appeared at the bottom of the screen. One was Yan Sheng, who had once taken fourth place at the World Championships. I remembered he had represented the country in the last Olympics, though I heard his form had slumped this year and his ranking was too low to make the national team. Still, I knew his strength back then was formidable. The other was named... He Ming?
I checked the name again to make sure I hadn't misread it. I asked Ling Xiao in surprise, "Your last name is He? ...Wait, that's not right. Whenever I saw you compete before, your name was always just 'Ling Xiao'." Even on the national team roster, it was Ling Xiao, not He Lingxiao.
I didn't hear Ling Xiao sigh, but his shoulders visibly slumped. I stopped talking, feeling like my IQ had just been insulted again. So they weren't biological brothers... he could have just said so...
The screen displayed the athlete profiles. Ling Xiao’s brother was twenty at the time. To reach the finals of the National Games meant his skill was exceptional. Ling Xiao was thirteen that year; he must have started fencing under He Ming's influence.
It still felt incredible. He Ming could make it to the finals against Yan Sheng, yet I had never even heard his name. Did he stop fencing after this?
Knowing that He Ming was the one who introduced Ling Xiao to the sport, I watched extra closely. Once He Ming put on his metallic mask, he seemed to transform into Ling Xiao. His style was equally composed, hiding a lethal edge. By the match point of the second period, when he unleashed an attack that forced his opponent off the back line in one breath, I was completely sold. As an introductory mentor, his influence on Ling Xiao was undeniable.
I also suddenly recalled that video I saw on a forum once—the one with the unknown source and a style strikingly similar to Ling Xiao’s. That must have been He Ming.
The match ended with He Ming reaching fifteen points first. Compared to Yan Sheng, he seemed to play with more ease. I found it more and more baffling. "Why have I never seen your brother in the national team?"
With results like that, there was no way He Ming wouldn't have been recruited. If Yan Sheng could make the cut, there was no reason Ling Xiao’s brother wouldn't even have a chance to show his face. Was he purged from the team because of a gay scandal? Seven or eight years ago, people like Ling Xiao and Concubine were still marginalized. Maybe that really was it. Since it concerned the national team's image, if the incident with Ling Xiao’s brother had blown up and become public knowledge, he might have been filtered out for that reason.
While I was racking my brain with theories, the "Silent Jar" finally spoke. "Do you want to see him?"
To be able to meet such an unsung master, who was also Ling Xiao’s mentor—I actually felt a bit excited. "I do!"
Ling Xiao took out the disc. "Go to sleep early tonight. We'll go see him tomorrow."
***
I already knew how much Ling Xiao cared for this brother. On the other hand, I’d never seen him contact his parents; maybe his relationship with his home was actually bad? But if he was so close to his brother, why hadn't his brother visited him even once? Was it because He Ming still held a grudge against the national team for being kicked out? No, that didn't seem right either; they could at least talk on the phone...
I didn't sleep well all night, wondering what other secrets Ling Xiao was hiding and why he suddenly wanted to take me to see his brother. This slow-drip revelation was truly torturing me.
I scrambled out of bed early the next morning, dug out a dress shirt I’d kept at the bottom of my trunk, and meticulously styled my hair, trying to look as decent and formal as possible. Ling Xiao valued this brother highly, so I couldn't be sloppy. Even though there was nothing between us anymore, we were still teammates fighting side-by-side.
I met him at the main gate as agreed. When Ling Xiao walked out and saw that I’d even gone to the trouble of styling my hair, he froze for a second. I felt a bit embarrassed, wondering if he’d misunderstood something, so I just laughed it off, saying I should look sharp to meet a senior.
Ling Xiao remained silent throughout the subway ride. A girl in the carriage tried to sneak a photo of him with her phone; I don't know if Ling Xiao noticed, but he turned his back after that. It was a very deliberate turn, and the girl looked a bit awkward. She didn't mean any harm, but Ling Xiao was clearly preoccupied with heavy thoughts, and he really wasn't the type to be overly considerate of others.
He didn't tell me where we were going. Every time the station was announced, I glanced at him, but he showed no intention of getting off. Because of his uncharacteristic silence, I grew more and more nervous, wondering if we were going to see a brother or an enemy.
Eventually, there were hardly any people left on the train. It was just the two of us in the last three carriages. Vast stretches of green blurred past the window; we were getting further and further from the city center.
When we emerged from the subway station, we were in the suburbs. The air was much fresher, surrounded by lush green trees, with smoky-grey mountains rolling in the distance.
"Let's go," Ling Xiao said.
I followed behind him. The deeper we walked into the deserted areas, the more uneasy I became.
That sense of foreboding was vindicated twenty minutes later.
When Ling Xiao led me toward a row of tombstones, even though I had already guessed it, I was still caught off guard. Ling Xiao seemed equally unprepared; he paused for a moment before leading me further in. Finally, we stopped before the only tombstone in the row that had a bouquet of flowers. It was a bunch of white lilies, the petals still dewy and fresh; it seemed the person who left them had only just departed. The tombstone had been wiped clean, and even the photo on it looked like it had been carefully polished with water.
In the photo, He Ming still had a smile on his lips. Compared to the neighboring graves, that smile was clean and bright, without a speck of dust. Judging by the dates on the stone, He Ming had passed away at the same age Ling Xiao was now—twenty-two. At that time, Ling Xiao had been only fifteen.
Ling Xiao looked down at the photo of He Ming, his brow slightly furrowed. Though his expression remained cold, it was clearly the look of a younger brother gazing at an older one—as if by simply frowning stubbornly, his brother would walk over, ruffle his hair, and smooth away the irritation and anxiety between his brows.
The cemetery was silent. I could hear his slow, heavy breathing. Everything I wanted to know seemed finally within reach...
"My brother and I became brothers when our divorced parents remarried and forced our families together. My mother died from complications during childbirth; I only ever saw her in photos. Because of that, my father was never close to me. The nanny who raised me said it was because my father loved my mother so much that seeing me reminded him of her passing. I believed that for a long time, sometimes even feeling like I owed them...
"So, I never expected my father to remarry when I was ten. My brother's father had been a combat medic in the peacekeeping forces and was killed in action. After that, his mother brought him along when she remarried. My father comes from a long line of military men; he's serious and old-fashioned. But because my brother had excellent grades and was great at fencing, my father treated him well back then. I wasn't close to my stepmother—we were just acquaintances under the same roof—and I never had much to say to my father. From then on, it was my brother who stayed with me. He was the one who taught me fencing."
The wind blew through the trees, and falling leaves landed on the tombstone. Ling Xiao knelt down and picked them off, one by one.
"...It's strange. He should have been the one who fit in least with my family, but gradually, I felt he was the only one truly close to me. When I was little, I hated parent-teacher conferences. My father either wouldn't go or would forget. After my brother came, there was finally someone to go for me. Someone to check my homework, someone to care if I was dressed warmly enough. On my birthdays, someone was there. On holidays, someone took me out for good food and fun... Sometimes he forced me to do things, like learning fencing or going for morning runs with him. Being 'forced' sounds bad, but I didn't feel forced at all, because no one had ever bothered to force me to do anything before." He knelt before the grave for a long time, lowering his voice as if afraid to wake the sleeper. "I'm very glad you forced me to learn fencing."
I didn't dare interrupt him. With every sentence, I could imagine him as a young boy—in scenes where there should have been family and friends, he was always alone. Then He Ming walked in. This brother filled every void in his childhood and adolescence; he was the family who cared for his happiness and well-being, the friend who played with him and celebrated his birthdays, the mentor who planted a dream in his heart. He Ming and Ling Xiao shared no blood, yet he was the person who had given Ling Xiao the most in this world, the one who lifted him onto his shoulders to look out at the world. He was, in fact and in heart, his only family.
"Later, when I was in middle school, my brother came out. My father couldn't forgive him. Our family has three generations of generals; our traditions are strict, and we naturally couldn't tolerate something as transgressive as being gay. At first, I didn't understand my brother either, and I resented the person he loved. Even though someone still went to my parent-teacher conferences and someone was still there for my birthdays—sometimes two people... slowly, I realized that my brother really loved that man, and that man really loved him. Because he loved my brother, he tried his best to be good to me, giving me gifts and helping me deal with some of the jerks at school. He never complained about my standoffish personality. Later, I understood. They hadn't done anything wrong. Breaking them up was just our own selfishness. My father could afford to be selfish because he cared most about reputation and face, and because he had no real affection for my brother. But I was different. My brother was my closest kin; I should have been the first to bless them. As long as that person was sincere, I should have been happy for him."
I looked at his calm profile, my heart a mess of emotions.
"When my father found out, he demanded my brother break up with that man. My brother wouldn't compromise, so my father told him never to come back. Since they weren't blood-related, that outcome was only natural. My stepmother couldn't bear to let him go, but she was used to obeying my father and couldn't take my brother's side." He stood up and smiled at the photo. "He looked like a gentle person, but he was tougher than anyone in his bones. He didn't want to make things difficult for his mother, so he came to say goodbye to me that night, left his number, and cut ties with the family. But he didn't plan to give up fencing. To raise money for training, he competed in underground matches. Of course, I didn't know any of that at the time.
"If it's to gain and protect someone's heart, then even betraying the whole world is worth it, I think. At first, I was a bit jealous, but later, there was only envy. Compared to the love my brother had for that man, my father's so-called love for my mother and my stepmother's so-called love for her late husband seemed shallow and ridiculous. Even though I got some cold looks at school, I was already used to living on them; I didn't care at all. To me, other people's judgment wasn't nearly as important as my brother's happiness."
I suddenly remembered what Granny Zhao had said—that there had been a young member of the national team named He, but she never saw him again. "Your brother... he was recruited into the national team, right?"
Ling Xiao nodded. "Even though there were some rumors inside and outside the team back then, Coach Liang Zhonghui valued my brother highly. He didn't make him leave because of it, though he apparently got into some trouble for protecting him."
I was confused. "Then why..."
"The man for whom my brother was willing to cut ties with his family... in the end, he agreed to an arranged marriage. He didn't tell my brother; he flew to America alone to marry his fiancée. My brother took leave from the team to go find him. The team leader wouldn't approve it, so he snuck away... We only learned of his death six months after he disappeared. His ashes were flown back." Ling Xiao fell silent here. After a long while, he whispered, "For a long time, I didn't want to believe he was gone. I thought he must have had some unavoidable reason to stage such a play, wanting us all to find peace. I preferred to believe he was still out there somewhere in the world, together with the person he loved."
"Is he really gone?" I asked. I didn't blame Ling Xiao for thinking that; even I was starting to think so.
Ling Xiao turned to look at me. "Why won't you believe it?"
I looked at the photo of He Ming. "To be willing to fight in those brutal underground matches, to carry so much pressure just to keep fencing... if it were me, I wouldn't just give up like that..."
Ling Xiao mused, "The photo isn't fake, and the death certificate isn't fake. He really is dead."
"Was it... a plane crash?"
Ling Xiao shook his head. "A traffic accident."
"And that man? Did he ever find him?"
"Does it matter?" Ling Xiao said. "I've never been in a relationship, but everyone grows up and learns how the world works. Love isn't some incredibly complex puzzle. If I truly loved someone, I would never leave them alone when they needed me most, without leaving a single word."
I wanted to say I believed he wouldn't, and I definitely wouldn't either, but the words wouldn't come out. My mind was racing, wondering why Ling Xiao was telling me all this. There was a finality in his tone that terrified me.
This time, he didn't look away. He stared at me intently, as if asking:
"I can understand why my stepmother had to remarry for a living, but I cannot understand why, for all those years afterward, she kept the man she once loved a secret just to avoid offending my father. She never even visited on the anniversary of his death. I understand my father even less. If he neglected me because he loved my mother, why did he remarry? If he married my stepmother because he truly loved her, why would he rather see her heartbroken than maintain a relationship with my brother? And then there's him..." He turned his gaze back to the tombstone. "He could give up everything for his lover, only for the other person to abandon him. What did his persistent love bring him in the end?"
"Qiao Mai, I truly don't believe in love at all. I don't want to be obsessed like my brother, and I don't want to just drift along like everyone else. Instead of chasing something so ethereal and fleeting, I'd rather focus on fencing. At least dreams won't lie to you. So, don't waste any more time on me."
"Your brother loved the wrong person, but what was wrong with his feelings?" I said. "The person was wrong, not the love in his heart."
Ling Xiao didn't want to listen. "I've shown you what needed to be seen, and I've said what needed to be said. Let's go."
I didn't move. "I don't care about any of that. I just want to ask you one thing: Have you ever, even for a second, liked me?"
Ling Xiao stopped in his tracks.
A surge of frustration was trapped in my chest, and I had to let it out. "Ling Xiao, if you dare to swear to the heavens that you've never liked me, I swear I'll walk away and never look back for the rest of my life!"
He finally nodded, turning around as if a great weight had been lifted. "Fine."
"Have the guts to swear on my future," I glared at him fiercely, brooking no argument. "If you say a single false word, let me never be able to fence again for as long as I live."
As expected, Ling Xiao’s raised hand dropped. Thick clouds drifted across the sky, and the sunlight broke through, blindingly bright, much like the repressed look in his eyes.
"Qiao Mai, so what if I like you? I hate this feeling. If I ever had those feelings for you, then it is the thing I regret most in my life."
"So you *do* like me, right? That's enough." Since he’d said it, I actually felt relieved. I stepped forward. "I'll handle the rest. Whether you regret it or not isn't for you to decide right now."
He looked at me. "Qiao Mai, I'll only ask you one thing: are you really happy being with someone like me? My father will never agree to us being together—do you really not care about that either?"
"If those are the things you're worried about, then let me tell you: I'm actually quite happy, and I really don't care," I said. "Then it's settled. I'll handle the rest."
***
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Point to Point: The Fencer’s Heart | Chapter 48 | The Shadow of the Past | Novela.app | Novela.app
