After setting July as the release date for the summer mini-album, Kaleido spent every day at the company busy with its production.
Compared to a full-length album, the mini-album’s planning only included one lead track and three non-lead tracks. The lead song was a composition purchased by the company from overseas, while one of the three non-lead tracks was a previous creation by Fang Juexia.
As a follow-up mini-album, the pressure was lighter, and everyone approached the production with a more relaxed, playful attitude toward music. Summer is a season brimming with sunshine and romance, so the musical style was positioned accordingly. Compared to previous albums filled with intense energy, this one needed to incorporate more elements of love.
Thus, producer and label owner Chen Zhengyun didn’t grant Pei Tingsong full creative freedom to write all lyrics as before.
“Xiao Pei’s writing style is too intense—it lacks tenderness,” Chen Zhengyun remarked during a meeting. “This time, we need that summer romance vibe.”
Fang Juexia, who never voiced dissent in meetings, silently rebelled against this notion. Pei Tingsong could be incredibly tender—he’d comfort him, recite poetry to him, even buy him flowers and candy.
He was the one person in the world with the right to argue.
Others only saw the thorns covering Pei Tingsong, but only Fang Juexia could touch his soft heart.
“How am I not gentle?” Pei Tingsong heard this critique and felt deeply indignant, slamming his fist on the conference table as he always did when challenging the boss.
Everyone burst into laughter. “You call that gentle?”
He Ziyan chuckled, “When others write love songs, it’s all ‘I love you, you love me.’ But with Little Pei, it’s straight to ‘I’ll crush your skull and shatter the heavens.’”
Ling Yi: “Guys, type ‘scared’ on the public chat!”
Lu Yuan stroked his chin, “Tough guy being tender, hahaha!”
Jiang Miao, who never joined in on the team-bashing, glanced at Pei Tingsong. “Maybe after Xiao Pei falls in love, he’ll finally write lyrics with a romantic vibe.”
Pei Tingsong desperately wanted to retort, “Wait, you guys…”
Fang Juexia pursed his lips and cleared his throat, his expression resembling a puffed-cheeked hamster, his cheek pouches brimming with secrets.
Alright. Pei Tingsong gave up. He decided not to be a giant of words; he would prove through action that he could indeed write love songs.
“Just wait. I can definitely do it.”
“Sure,” He Ziyan teased him. “Is there anything Little Pei can’t do?”
Pei Tingsong ignored them, twirling a pen deftly between his fingers. Chen Zhengyun played each selected melody for them, and they discussed suitable arrangements.
Fang Juexia listened intently, head raised. Suddenly, something brushed against his calf. Confused, he looked down to find a foot in purple AJ sneakers stretched out before him. Having just come from the practice room, he still wore loose dance pants. The toes had lifted his pant leg, lightly touching his skin twice.
Looking up, Fang Juexia saw Pei Tingsong tilt his head at him with a meaningful look, twirling that fountain pen in his hand.
Probably scolding him for not speaking up for him, Fang Juexia thought.
He pulled his leg back slightly, refusing to accept this veiled reproach.
“We’re also in talks with some summer blockbuster dramas. There’s a chance one of our non-main tracks might become a TV drama insert song.”
Cheng Qiang was still speaking. Fang Juexia tried to focus and listen carefully, but his mind kept wandering. Every time he pulled back, Pei Tingsong edged in closer.
Pei Tingsong enjoyed playing with fire, teasing him shamelessly in front of everyone without a hint of embarrassment.
“So we need to speed things up lately. After making the demo, we still have to send it to the drama production team for song selection.”
But Fang Juexia was never one to be pushed around, especially when it came to Pei Tingsong. He had a particularly fiery temper with him. His hand reached for the marker, which hadn’t been capped to begin with. He gripped it and swiftly drew a cross on Pei Tingsong’s exposed ankle, right where his leg extended.
Then he sat up without a flicker of emotion, placing the pen back on the table.
No one noticed the subtle current beneath the table. Aside from that tiny misplaced mark, there was no evidence.
Though everyone teased Pei Tingsong during the meeting, once the demo for the theme song arrived, he finished writing the lyrics in just two days—far faster than the other lyricists assigned to the project. After receiving both sets of lyrics, Chen Zhengyun carefully compared them. Pei Tingsong’s version was more spirited and poetic—not the run-of-the-mill assembly-line lyrics that all sounded like “you love me, I love you” no matter how many times you sang them.
With the lead track finalized, the six members of Kaleido entered the recording studio. Learning from past mistakes, Star Map took meticulous care in safeguarding both the demo and the finished track, determined to avoid any repeat of previous mishaps.
During this period, both Star Map and Kaleido’s official Weibo accounts released teaser posts. Despite lacking even a single promotional image—just a simple “Coming Soon”—fans’ excitement was palpable. Retweets and comments skyrocketed.
Fans had long speculated that Star Chart would capitalize on the momentum of hits like “Breakthrough” to release follow-up singles—but no one expected it to happen this quickly.
Midway through, it was revealed that Fang Juexia and Pei Tingsong would also appear on “Escape to Heaven.” The show’s popularity grew with each episode, and every Saturday when it aired, the “Auditory CP” consistently trended on social media.
The production team’s budget kept expanding. For the latest episode, they built a miniature planetarium. After filming, the guests gathered for their customary dinner. After eating, the self-study pair excused themselves early. Shang Sirui insisted on hitting the KTV, so they extended the night with another activity.
“Hey, we gotta snap a group pic first to beat them to the punch,” Shang Sirui joked, referencing He Ziyan’s recent scandal. “Otherwise, they’ll just invent some girlfriend for me.”
Zhai Ying chuckled, “Nice try.”
Pei Tingsong teased, “Brother Huo’s landing scripts for multiple idol dramas now. A blessing in disguise.”
As they played, conversation flowed. These friends always clicked, sharing personal updates at every gathering. Fang Juexia usually listened quietly, but this time he caught Zhai Ying mentioning their group, Astar.
She first mentioned the delayed group comeback. When Shang Sirui asked why, she learned that significant conflicts had erupted among Astar’s top management, with two factions vying for power.
Though Fang Juexia was no longer with Astar, he had heard whispers about it during his training days. Astar had built its empire on the success of several early hit singers and groups. One of its founding national-level singers, Li Luo, had even become a shareholder. But after the original boss stepped back into a senior role, he promoted Jin Xiangcheng. Jin Xiangcheng, however, was known for his underhanded tactics. While he did use his methods to push several popular groups to stardom, he also made numerous enemies.
He recalled Ling Yi casually mentioning Astar’s stock decline earlier. Beyond the interference from Bae Heungsong’s sister, internal power struggles among executives were undoubtedly involved.
Bae Heungsong asked offhandedly, “Why would internal conflicts delay your comeback?”
Zhai Ying took a sip of beer. “Because we’re the group planned by President Li.”
Fang Juexia asked, “Li Luo?”
“Exactly. And there’s another rather crucial issue.” She shrugged. “I’m Li Luo’s sister-in-law. In other words, he’s my brother-in-law.”
Shang Sirui snapped to attention. “Oh! That explains why you debuted after such a short training period!”
“I’ve got real talent too, okay? You think being a girl group’s ace is easy?”
Fang Juexia finally understood—Zhai Ying had been parachuted in. No wonder he hadn’t seen her when he left. And she didn’t seem to care about his past beef with Astar either. Now everything made sense.
She probably didn’t think much of Jin Xiangcheng either.
Fang Juexia analyzed, “Given Jin Xiangcheng’s style, he probably won’t let you guys make a comeback until he solidifies his position. If you perform well, it’ll just bolster President Li’s prestige. Besides, your group’s popularity is so high, your results shouldn’t be bad.”
“That’s precisely why I hope we don’t return. I fear he’ll deliberately give us terrible songs—he’s done it before, crippling our group’s morale.” Zhai Ying sighed. “After all, unlike you, we can’t write our own songs.”
Fang Juexia smiled wryly. “Our company is small. We have no choice.”
After the gathering dispersed, they went their separate ways. On his walk home, Fang Juexia kept thinking about Astar. When he first joined Astar, one of his interviewers had been Li Luo. You could say Li Luo was the one who brought him into Astar. During his trainee days, Li Luo had also given him considerable support, leading everyone to believe he was certain to debut with the new boy group.
Until Jin Xiangcheng wrestled control of the “Seven Luminaries” project’s planning and execution away from Li Luo.
Fang Juexia couldn’t shake a sense of foreboding. He even worried about Liang Ruo. Though they’d agreed to sever all ties, he refused to let her become a pawn in this power struggle.
Or rather, he didn’t want anyone to be sacrificed.
Beyond fulfilling their individual schedules, their daily work involved coming to the company to prepare for the album. Though they didn’t need to promote the song, upcoming fan meetings and variety show appearances would likely require stage performances. So Fang Juexia and Lu Yuan proceeded with choreography, this time opting for a more relaxed and natural style. After spending the entire afternoon refining the dance details, Lu Yuan was starving and dragged Fang Juexia out to eat.
Thinking of Pei Tingsong still writing lyrics in his small studio, Lu Yuan was distracted throughout the meal. Then, a call from Brother Qiang summoned him away.
“Take your time eating. I’ll head over first.”
“Okay.” Watching Lu Yuan leave, Fang Juexia set down his chopsticks, packed up a bowl of shrimp roe noodles and mung bean ice, and headed straight to find Pei Tingsong.
His usual songwriting studio was next to the piano room, with the vocal studio across the hall. This space had originally been a small practice room. Back when Xingtu only occupied one floor of this large office building, resources were scarce, so even this tiny room had been fitted with mirrors. Later, as the company grew, Xingtu took over five floors. With more and more practice rooms available, this one fell into disuse. Gradually, it became a storage room.
The little devil insisted to Chen Zhengyun that he absolutely needed a place to write his own stuff, which is how this space was finally allocated to him.
Fang Juexia stepped out of the elevator carrying his takeout. Truth be told, this was his first time visiting his tiny studio.
As he approached the door, hesitation crept back into his steps. He knocked, but received no answer—though the distinct sound of an electronic piano drifted out.
Couldn’t they hear him? Fang Juexia raised his hand to knock again when the door suddenly swung open. His hand hung mid-air, falling empty.
“You’re here?” Pei Tingsong caught his raised hand and pulled him inside. His expression shifted faster than turning a page—initially showing irritation at being disturbed, but the moment he recognized Fang Juexia, a childlike smile spread across his face.
“I told you to go eat, but you wouldn’t listen.” Fang Juexia carefully pushed the door shut behind him and handed over the food he was carrying. “I was just heading out for lunch, so I brought you some up.”
The room wasn’t large, but it contained everything one might need. Against the left wall stood a row of workbenches and musical instruments. The right side still held the original large mirror. Toward the back, a carpet covered the floor, flanked by several beanbag chairs. This environment perfectly suited Pei Tingsong’s American-style laid-back aesthetic.
Seeing Fang Juexia had remembered to bring him food, Pei Tingsong happily accepted it, wrapping an arm around his waist and kissing his cheek. “You’re so good to me.” Wearing a creamy white short-sleeved shirt and glasses, his hair neatly combed, he genuinely looked like a college student.
Fang Juexia pushed against his chest. “Don’t—”
“Relax, I disabled the surveillance here.” Pei Tingsong casually remarked before lifting Fang Juexia onto his workbench, sitting him down while he braced both hands on the surface, enclosing him within his embrace.
Fang Juexia’s heart began racing. Though the air conditioning in the small room was already set low, he felt an intense heat wash over him. “Why did you disable the surveillance?”
“Cameras make me uneasy. I can’t focus on my work.” Pei Tingsong curved his lips, removing his glasses with one hand. “But now it seems I was quite prescient.”
With that, he leaned in to kiss him. Fang Juexia had nowhere to hide, so he retaliated with a bite. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to bite hard, which backfired—to Pei Tingsong, it felt like pure teasing.
Just like the cross he’d drawn on Fang Juexia’s ankle.
Fang Juexia’s teasing was always unconscious, something even he himself couldn’t detect.
The passionate kiss made Fang Juexia dizzy. Beyond Pei Tingsong’s sharp, handsome features, he saw nothing else. Air was drawn in erratically, his rationality flickering on and off. He wavered between resistance and surrender, his words veiled in a haze of heat.
He thought of Pei Tingsong’s clothes—so white, so clean.
Clean.
This gave him what seemed like a plausible excuse.
“Don’t… I danced. I’m filthy. I’ll ruin your clothes.”
Pei Tingsong chuckled softly, pulling away briefly, yet his eyes lingered on the glistening moisture on Pei Juexia’s lips. “How many times have I gotten you dirty? It’s only fair you return the favor.”
Once he started, Pei Tingsong seemed to have no shortage of dirty talk. Fang Juexia had always thought of him as a guy with no limits, but now he realized those limits might be even lower than he’d imagined.
The brief pause made Fang Juexia lift his head—only to see a row of mirrors lining the opposite wall. His own flushed neck and ears reflected back at him, making his heart thud violently in his chest.
“The noodles will get cold.” ” Fang Juexia pushed him away and scrambled off the table, his haste sending a flurry of Pei Tingsong’s manuscripts drifting to the floor like snowflakes.
Pei Tingsong watched him crouch to pick them up and reached out to pull him back. “Don’t worry about it. They’re just scraps—I was going to throw them out anyway. Come sit down and eat with me.”
Fang Juexia refused. “You eat first. Seeing these scattered on the floor makes me uncomfortable.”
Fine. Who could blame him when his delicate little flower had OCD? But Pei Tingsong didn’t listen either, crouching down to pick them up alongside him. Fang Juexia gathered all the scraps. Worried Pei Tingsong would keep fussing and ruin his meal, he clutched the stack and retreated to the corner beanbag chair. To divert Pei Tingsong from continuing the earlier fuss, he abruptly changed the subject. “Are these your discarded lyric drafts?”
“Not all of them. Some are just random scribbles from daydreaming or practicing handwriting.” He wasn’t really hungry either, so he poked his straw into the mung bean ice slush, took a sip with his left hand holding the cup, and idly plucked a few notes on the electronic keyboard with his right.
Fang Juexia didn’t have the habit of flipping through others’ manuscripts. He simply found the top sheet’s handwriting beautiful—each line written with grace, the strokes flowing and connected. It clearly came from a wellspring of inspiration, hardly resembling discarded lyrics at all. Instead, it looked like a modern poem.
So he silently recited it in his mind.
[Love turns people into foolish contradictions
Minds clouded, willingly descending into ruin—like me
I want to wrap you in the world’s safest embrace
Enveloping your fragile bones and dreams
Sleep well, I am your faithful night watchman
Your gently beating heart rests in my hands
The whole world lies within my grasp
Yet I also yearn, in the defenseless dead of night
Along your soft coastline
To wage the most perilous battle
Smoke from gunpowder burning all night long
Doomed to defeat, I’ll fire the final bullet
Into your body]
Author’s note: Not lyrics, just a poem he jotted down
Sorry, feeling a bit under the weather today, so it’s a bit shorter.
