"It got me through some hard times," Guiying said simply.

Moying looked at him for a moment.

Then he turned back to the piano, repositioned his hands, and played the opening bars again.

He looked back over his shoulder.

"From the beginning?" he said.

Guiying looked at him.

Then he pushed the door open fully and walked in.

"From the beginning," he said.

By the time they finished the song the third time through, Moying was laughing at something Guiying had done with the bridge and Guiying was pretending he had done it on purpose.

They sat in the comfortable aftermath of it, the quiet that settled after music when nobody wanted to be the first to break it.

Then Moying said, "Thank you."

Guiying looked at him.

"I’ve had writer’s block for weeks," Moying said, looking at the piano keys. "I couldn’t finish the last verse no matter what I tried. But just now, singing it with someone who actually felt it—" he shook his head. "I finished it. I’ve gotten the last verse for my song. Singing this song helps me overcome my writer’s block.."

"You finished it just now?"

"Just now." He looked up. "I have an audition on Monday. I’ve been stressing about this song for three weeks and you just walked in and fixed it without even trying."

Guiying looked at him for a moment.

"I didn’t know you could sing," he said. "I knew you were into something but this—" he shook his head. "Your voice is genuinely something else. Your brother must be so proud."

Moying scratched the back of his head, a warm smile spreading across his face.

"My older brother is the best honestly. I’m nothing without him." He said it without embarrassment, just simply, the way people stated facts they had long made peace with. "He protected my dreams when our parents wouldn’t. He created opportunities for me before I even knew I needed them. He’s taken care of Tiantian and me more than our parents ever did." He paused. "He’s always been like that. Mature since forever. I’ve never once seen him cry or look sad. Not even once. He’s like a fortress." He looked at the piano keys. "Sometimes I wish he’d show his soft side though. Just once."

Guiying sat with that quietly.

"Who’s Tiantian?" he said.

Moying looked at him.

"How did you marry my brother without knowing he has a sister?" He stared at him. "Tiantian is our sister. She’s four years older than me and six years younger than brother Xian."

Guiying scratched his head.

"I knew about you," he offered.

"You knew about me because we went to the same college," Moying said flatly. "That doesn’t count."

Guiying had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. He had married Liuxian in four minutes at the civil affairs bureau and had spent two weeks learning him in pieces, through pain patches, congee, goodnight kisses and the way he showed up without being asked.

He knew the important things. Which was a little bit of his personality.

But he just realized the important things were not the only things.

"Tell me about her," he said.

Moying’s expression softened immediately.

"Tiantian is genuinely the best person in our family," he said. "She married someone she actually loved at twenty two, which in this family is basically a revolution. She has four kids and she’s genuinely happy." He smiled. "She’s the proof that it’s possible to get out of this family with your heart intact."

Guiying looked at him.

"Four kids," he said.

"Four, beautiful kids." Moying confirmed. "Liuxian’s the favorite uncle. But he’d never admit it."

Guiying stored that quietly and said nothing.

They sat in the music room for a while longer, not singing, just talking in the easy way that sometimes happened between people who had started off on the wrong foot and were quietly correcting course without making a production of it.

Moying talked about the audition, about the song, about what he wanted to do with his music if Yang Entertainment gave him the chance. He talked the way people talked when they were passionate about something and had found someone willing to listen, freely and without editing himself.

Guiying listened and asked questions and thought that Moying was considerably easier to be around than he had expected.

Eventually Moying looked at the time and winced.

"I should eat something. I’ve been in here since morning and I forgot morning existed."

"Old Li will have something," Guiying said, standing.

They walked out of the music room together and down the stairs, and the ease of it was not lost on Guiying. Yesterday they had stood in the entrance hall with years of bad history between them and said each other’s names like weapons. Now they were walking to the kitchen together because Moying had forgotten to eat.

Things moved quickly when people decided to let them.

Old Li produced food without being asked, which was his particular talent, setting two bowls of noodles on the counter with the efficiency of someone who had heard footsteps on the stairs and started cooking accordingly.

Or he knew Moying would come down eventually to eat.

Moying sat down and picked up his chopsticks.

"Can I ask you something?" he said.

Guiying looked at him.

"The group date thing," Moying said. "In college." He kept his eyes on his bowl. "I found out what actually happened about a month after. That it wasn’t you." He paused. "By then the damage was already done and I didn’t know how to fix it so I just—" he stopped. "I just didn’t. Which was cowardly."

Guiying looked at his noodles.

"You were twenty," he said.

"That’s not an excuse."

"No," Guiying agreed. "But it’s a reason." He picked up his chopsticks. "You apologized. We’re eating noodles together. I think that’s enough."

Moying looked at him.

"You’re very straightforward," he said.

"I’ve learned not to waste time on things that are already settled," Guiying said.

Moying was quiet for a moment. Then he nodded, slowly, and went back to his noodles.

They ate in comfortable silence for a while.

"Brother Xian chose well," Moying said eventually, into his bowl.

Guiying looked at him.

Moying kept eating, ears slightly pink, clearly regretting saying it out loud.

Guiying looked back at his noodles.

"Eat your food," he said.

Moying laughed and focused on his food.

"I am."