“Want some?” Pei Tingsong walked over, crouched down, and held the mung bean ice slush up to Fang Juexia’s lips.
Fang Juexia snapped back to reality, flinging the paper in his hand aside with a flutter. His beautiful eyes widened as he stared at Pei Tingsong.
Seeing his reaction, Pei Tingsong smiled. “What’s wrong? What did you just see?”
Fang Juexia shook his head. “Nothing.” Though he denied it, his face burned. His mind was filled with his carefree handwriting—every line, every character.
Having too good a memory could be a curse.
Pei Tingsong’s lips curved upward. Setting down the slushie, he wrapped both arms around Fang Juexia on the beanbag sofa. Leaning forward, Fang Juexia panicked slightly, instinctively leaning back. He nearly fell backward and hit the wall, but Pei Tingsong caught him with his palm a split second earlier.
“Be careful.”
He fell completely into his embrace.
Pei Tingsong’s hand slid slowly down from the back of his head, cupping his slender, pale neck. Fang Juexia loved wearing shirts; his wardrobe held many similar styles. They looked ordinary hanging in the closet, yet when he wore them, they appeared so clean and handsome.
He couldn’t help but lower his head.
Fang Juexia thought he was going to kiss him and instinctively closed his eyes. Instead, he lowered his head further than expected and bit the top button of the white shirt.
He undid Fang Juexia’s buttons with his mouth, kissing the collarbone hidden beneath. Then he lifted his head, gave Fang Juexia a childish smile, and kissed the corner of his lips.
“Did you read what I wrote?” Pei Tingsong asked.
Fang Juexia nodded and replied, “Just one page.”
“That was the only one worth keeping. The rest were scraps,” Pei Tingsong said with frank ease, taking Fang Juexia’s hand and placing it on his waist in an embrace. “You’re so tense. Did you think I’d do something to you?”
He didn’t know why he was nervous either—it happened every time—but he did like Pei Tingsong.
“Desire and sex are natural, just like love,” Pei Tingsong said. “There are still many in my desk drawer at the dorm. I write something whenever I miss you, especially at night.”
Desire is a byproduct of love, a poet’s dream-spun fantasy.
“Want to see them?”
Fang Juexia’s ears flushed crimson. He only stared at him, unable to voice refusal. For he couldn’t deny the flutter in his heart at the thought of reading Pei Tingsong’s poems written for him.
Who could refuse a poet’s declaration of love?
“Next time,” Pei Tingsong murmured softly, kissing his cheek and ear, “I’ll read them to you next time.”
Though he’d only said “next time,” Fang Juexia’s mind conjured an entire night. Was this the power of words? He, who had always kept himself free of desire and need, began to gradually loosen the restraining net, peel away the hard shell, and little by little accept the instincts of love and desire. This process was so much like melting.
The winter snow imprisoned by spring would one day become spring water.
Just as Pei Tingsong was kissing him lightly, the phone in his pocket vibrated. Frowns creased his brow at the interruption. He pulled it out—it was Cheng Qiang. He had no choice but to answer.
“Hey, Brother Qiang.” Pei Tingsong slipped on his earbuds, his hand still cradling Fang Juexia’s face, his thumb tracing his lower lip, eyes fixed only on him. “Really? It’s settled? Did you tell Juexia?”
Hearing his name, Fang Juexia’s eyes widened slightly. He tilted his head to look at him, looking so adorable that Pei Tingsong leaned in and kissed the corner of his eye.
“Then I’ll tell him. I’ll have him come find me in my studio later.”
Hearing Pei Tingsong lie, Fang Juexia couldn’t help but smile. He bit down on Pei Tingsong’s wrist, like some kind of protest, then deliberately moved closer to signal he was already in the studio. Pei Tingsong couldn’t help but laugh either, dodging him until Fang Juexia finally grabbed his face and turned him around.
His little temper flared, and he deliberately leaned in to kiss him, silencing his words.
Pei Tingsong froze for a moment. Cheng Qiang on the other end of the call heard him mid-sentence and asked what was wrong. Pei Tingsong pulled back slightly. “Nothing. I just took a sip of water.”
Drinking water? Fang Juexia raised an eyebrow and tugged at his cheek again. Pei Tingsong handled the call with his agent while patting Fang Juexia’s back to calm him down.
“Got it. I’m writing a song. Gotta go. People will be here soon.”
He hung up abruptly. Fang Juexia knew the prank was over and tried to slip away, but Pei Tingsong grabbed his waist and pinned him to the carpet, feigning menace. “You’re getting more and more daring. Believe me or not, I could take you right here and now.”
Fang Juexia stifled a laugh, adopting a righteous tone. “You lied first. Aren’t you supposed to ‘keep real’?”
Pei Tingsong immediately released him. “Fine, then I’ll go come out to Brother Qiang right now.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Fang Juexia backed down, wrapping his arms around Pei Tingsong’s arm to pull himself up. “What did Brother Qiang want with me just now? Is something up?”
Pei Tingsong finally sat up straight, picking up the mung bean ice slush he’d set on the floor earlier and taking a sip. The ice had completely melted, leaving a sweet, gritty sensation in his throat.
“He said a production team with an excellent lineup wants to collaborate with us. Last winter’s hit drama was from their company too. This summer’s release is a campus-themed show. After the producer got demos of our four songs, they quickly picked you.”
Fang Juexia couldn’t quite believe it. “My compositions?”
“Yes, yours.” Pei Tingsong ruffled his hair. “You’re amazing—getting noticed by a top-tier production team so quickly.”
“But there aren’t even lyrics yet,” Fang Juexia repeated, still in disbelief. “At least the main theme should have lyrics.”
“They said they love this style—it’s unique, and the catchy melody is guaranteed to go viral. For a TV drama theme song, matching the script’s style is key.” As he spoke, Pei Tingsong had already received the plot outline, style notes, and promotional materials for the drama from Cheng Qianggang. He opened his laptop to review them.
Fang Juexia leaned in and caught sight of the drama’s title. “Green Wave? That sounds like an arthouse film. Who knew it was actually a campus drama?”
The show carries a hint of suspense, unfolding a series of events triggered by a suicide jump at a high school. The female lead is the deceased girl’s best friend, who transfers to the same school after her friend’s death. There, she encounters the male lead—the object of her friend’s unrequited love, revealed in her diary. As they search for the truth behind the death, they gradually uncover the bullying and suffering their friend endured during her final two years at school.
Only at the end does it reveal that the female lead is actually the deceased girl herself, reborn after death as someone who never existed in the world—the “perfect friend” she had always longed for.
“This story is amazing.” Fang Juexia felt an inexplicable surge of anticipation. The thought that his song could become one of the insert songs gave him a sense of encouragement.
“Yeah, apparently it’s written by a top-tier screenwriter.” Pei Tingsong opened another document. “Here are some script excerpts. The production team said they already have the opening theme song for the TV series. They want to use your track for the romance scenes. Since the main couple’s emotional arc is relatively subtle, this melody—not overly sweet yet deeply emotional—is perfect.”
Fang Juexia glanced at the style keywords: summer, first love, elusive yet close, youthful innocence, pure.
“Feels like the lyrics might be tricky to write.”
Pei Tingsong nodded in agreement. “If I were writing them myself, it might be simpler. But now it feels like an assigned essay.” He paused, a thought occurring to him. “What were you thinking about when you wrote this song originally?”
The sudden question caught Fang Juexia off guard. He pondered carefully, “I don’t think… I was thinking about anything in particular.”
“You wrote it without thinking? How is that possible?”
“Really. I just wanted to write a melody, and I had some ideas in my head already.” “ Fang Juexia found his own explanation unconvincing, so he added, ”Even Leibniz said music is the unconscious operation of mathematics in the soul.”
Pei Tingsong chuckled at his remark. “Alright, I wasn’t expecting any inspiration from you anyway. I’ll figure it out myself.”
Seeing him dive back into the materials, Fang Juexia leaned closer to read alongside him, murmuring the words over and over: “First love… summer, a song of summer.”
Pei Tingsong suddenly noticed a line in the synopsis stating the male lead secretly harbored feelings for the female lead. He wondered if he could write from the male protagonist’s perspective.
Leaning on the desk, he asked Fang Juexia, “When you see words like ‘summer’ and ‘first love,’ what images pop into your head?”
Fang Juexia didn’t have a clear picture of those concepts. Middle school felt distant to him now, especially since his life revolved around a monotonous routine. When he thought back to his youth, it mostly involved practice sessions.
But if it was first love, it was undeniably tied to Pei Tingsong.
He could recall every detail with Pei Tingsong—their first meeting, their first argument, the first time he saw him smile, the first time he heard him apologize.
The fall beneath the lift platform, the confession in the dark passageway, the first time he heard him say a birthmark was beautiful.
The shadows at the playground, the embrace during the high-altitude fall, the soft twilight on the balcony…
“My first love is every memory you gave me.” Fang Juexia mimicked his posture, leaning on the table as they gazed at each other. “That twilight when we debated true love, the sun-drenched playground, the fireworks you took me to see, the movies we watched holed up in hotels and apartments, and the tree-lined paths we longed to walk hand-in-hand but couldn’t.”
“As for summer…” Fang Juexia smiled faintly, recalling his most painful days—when Pei Tingsong rushed back exhausted but dared not embrace him.
“Summer is the rain you never let me get caught in.”
Gazing into his clear eyes, Pei Tingsong felt his heart ache and swell intensely.
To him, first love was an honest, bright date they owed each other.
Suddenly inspired, Pei Tingsong quickly kissed Fang Juexia. “I know! I have an idea.”
“So soon?” Fang Juexia felt happy inside, thinking of his upcoming work. “Then I won’t disturb you. I’ll go back to dance.”
“No.” Pei Tingsong grabbed his wrist, insisting on keeping him close. “Stay with me. I have plenty of books. You can read while you keep me company. It won’t take long.”
Fang Juexia found it odd, but Pei Tingsong was always this peculiar, especially when creating.
“Then you don’t need my help?” Fang Juexia gestured toward the electronic piano. “I could play that for you.”
Pei Tingsong pulled out paper and pen, offering Fang Juexia his comfortable swivel chair. He pulled another chair from under his workbench and sat down himself. “Just staying here with me is helping me.”
Alright. Fang Juexia replied cheerfully in his mind.
Still afraid of disturbing him, he sat quietly, carefully examining everything on the desk. pens of every variety in the penholder, an oddly shaped desk lamp, stacks upon stacks of books, notebooks, sticky notes, and a pile of recording equipment. Among them was even a micro-sound sampler—Fang Juexia only remembered it being expensive, used to capture hard-to-record sounds. He’d heard He Ziyan mention it, but no one had bought one.
So Pei Tingsong had one. He’d tell He Ziyan not to buy one.
Fang Juexia picked up a copy of The Collected Poems of Marina Tsvetaeva from the desk and read silently, quietly keeping company with Pei Tingsong as he wrote lyrics.
Reflecting on Fang Juexia’s words, Pei Tingsong wrote as inspiration flowed. Each melody segment crystallized in his mind, layered with lyrics, becoming tangible—like frames of slow-motion imagery, like fragments of a story.
The entire lyrics were completed in just twenty minutes. Pei Tingsong held the sheet of paper, studying it repeatedly, humming the melody in his mind to ensure it matched.
“Done.” When he finally pulled himself out of the lyrics’ emotional pull, he noticed Fang Juexia had curled up in his swivel chair and fallen asleep. The poetry collection lay open across his stomach, his chest rising and falling gently beneath his white shirt, his breathing steady.
Pei Tingsong finally believed it: this world truly held a certain kind of person, born to be another’s muse.
In the years of relentless struggle, he believed cynicism was the only grand thing.
But if Fang Juexia were here, if his muse were here, Pei Tingsong would only want to be a third-rate artist with a small vision.
The workload for a mini-album was manageable, and with Kaleido’s usual efficiency in music creation, the preliminary preparations were completed quickly. Yet the producer of Green Wave made an unexpected request: they wanted the solo version of Night Walk sung by Fang Juexia for the OST.
This was common practice. TV drama theme songs rarely featured group performances, as background music was meant to immerse viewers in the scene and evoke emotion. Frequent changes in vocalists could disrupt the emotional continuity of the visuals. Star Chart understood the request and arranged for Fang Juexia to record a solo version. Pei Tingsong even suggested re-arranging the track himself.
This sincerity was recognized by the production team, who repeatedly expressed their gratitude.
After recording the song, they made a special trip to Qingdao to shoot the music video for the lead single. Qingdao in summer was green and beautiful. The photo of the six members running along the tree-lined paths of Badaguan, turning back to laugh together, was ultimately chosen as the cover for the album Last Summer.
Later, hearing that many singers and popular groups would release albums in July, Star Map feared overlapping releases and ultimately chose to advance their schedule. They released the first wave of the lead single on June 20th.
The title track “Last Summer” featured a lighthearted, summery vibe with an instantly catchy melody. Its first-day streaming numbers surpassed the debut record of “Breakthrough,” with many listeners specifically tuning in due to the strong reception of their previous album.
However, Kaleido didn’t promote this comeback, resulting in significantly less exposure. Combined with the immense success and lasting impact of their previous album, it was difficult to surpass that achievement with just one mini-album. For them, this was simply a summer gift for fans. But for many watching their performance metrics, it undoubtedly gave haters ammunition to criticize.
When streaming numbers and buzz fell short of “Breakthrough,” critics began loudly proclaiming they’d “run out of tricks.” When album sales were high, they dismissed the mini-album as cheap—ten copies equaling one of others—lacking real value.
Kaleido and Star Map, however, remained unfazed. To promote the album, their schedules filled up with appearances on reality shows and radio programs. Working day in and day out, they had little time to dwell on the criticism.
The tide turned days later. Just as Pei Tingsong and Fang Juexia had predicted, Green Wave stood out among mediocre idol dramas to become the summer season’s top-rated hit.
The show’s visuals boasted a distinctly Japanese-inspired cool-toned aesthetic, while its meticulously unraveling plot hooked audiences. An online frenzy erupted as everyone binge-watched, with trending discussions about Green Wave proliferating. The peak viewership coincided with the episode where the male lead realized his feelings for the female lead: while cycling to find witnesses, they encountered children setting off sparklers by the sea on their way back to school. The scene was small yet beautiful.
This scene was beautifully shot, laying bare the young man’s heart. The background music was Fang Juexia’s solo version of “Night Walk,” where the music and visuals blended exquisitely, instantly becoming one of the show’s iconic moments.
Suddenly, “Night Walk”—composed and performed by Fang Juexia with lyrics by Pei Tingsong—surged into the trending charts across major music platforms. Its streaming numbers skyrocketed, riding the wave of the hit drama to become the summer’s first viral sensation, with chart rankings exploding. Cover versions flooded the internet, and snippets of the song became popular background music on short video apps.
Love ballads invariably gain wider circulation than dance tracks. Bolstered by the drama’s massive popularity, this song not only rapidly amassed its own fanbase but unexpectedly propelled the original six-member version to prominence. Its influence grew exponentially, propelling the entire summer album Last Summer back onto the charts and pushing sales past another milestone.
Due to the song’s immense popularity, MLH’s music show specially invited Kaleido to perform a six-member version of “Night Walk” as a special stage.
For the Ting-Xue CP fandom, this song holds special significance as it marks the first collaboration between Bae Ting-Song and Fang Jue-Xia.
To celebrate the song shattering multiple records, numerous Ting-Xue CP fan sites have released corresponding merchandise. The prominent fan site Spring Prison Snow even presented a meaningful gift.
[@Spring Snow Prison CP Site: To celebrate the brothers’ successful first collaboration, we specially contacted the Green Wave production team. After obtaining permission, we crafted two sets of the summer uniforms worn in the drama (P1), complete with nameplates bearing Bae Hee-sung and Fang Juexia’s names (P2). Each white shirt’s front panel features two lines of lyrics embroidered in silver thread—one line per shirt. When placed together, they form the complete verse (P3 detail image). We hope the brothers cherish this special gift. We will forever treasure every nighttime adventure from our youth.
On the day of the radio show, hearing they could wear casual clothes, Fang Juexia donned the white shirt custom-made by Spring Snow Prison. He just didn’t wear the name tag. He thought no one would notice, since he owned so many white shirts.
Like Pei Tingsong, he too became someone who liked to sneak in personal touches.
The radio atmosphere was warm. Host and the six members of Kaleido chatted like old friends catching up, sipping soda while discussing music and their youth.
They performed an unplugged version of “Last Summer” on air. Unlike the original dance track, it felt tender and gentle.
After the main track, the host launched into the listener interaction segment, randomly selecting questions from the radio messages to pose to Kaleido.
“A listener with the ID ‘Forever Domino’ says, ‘I absolutely love the feeling of Kaleido writing their own songs. This album’s style is so different from before, and I adore it. Could you guys share any stories about the creative process?’”
He Ziyan spoke up: First, thank you to this fan. Actually, compared to our second album, this album offered more creative freedom in song production. While the lead track was composed by an overseas producer, the other non-lead tracks were all written by our members—like Juexia’s ‘Night Wander,’ Miaomiao’s ‘Daydream,’ and my own ‘Swimming Across This Sea.’ The lyrics, as always, were penned by our little Pei.”
Lu Yuan nodded. “Xiao Pei made a huge breakthrough this time. At first, we all doubted whether he could write love songs.”
Pei Tingsong shrugged. “I had to prove myself through action.”
Jiang Miao added, “Xiao Pei also arranged the solo version of ‘Night Wander.’ We hear it’s packed with thoughtful details.”
“Oh, really?” the host inquired. “Can you elaborate?”
“Elaborate…” Pei Tingsong glanced at Fang Juexia. “The drum arrangement in the solo version of ‘Night Walk’ differs slightly from the six-member version. Give it a listen—sharp-eared listeners might spot a little Easter egg.”
Ling Yi chimed in, “Tsk tsk, now you’re teasing us.”
“No worries, if you can’t tell the difference, just ask him at the signing event.”
“Hahaha.”
That glance Pei Tingsong gave him felt odd to Fang Juexia, and he found himself drifting into thought again. He began wondering what exactly made the two versions different.
It seemed like the drumbeat in the solo version was simpler.
But was that all?
The host continued, “The ID is Erhuo, a listener of My Little Treasure…”
Before she could finish, Ling Yi burst out laughing first, followed by everyone else.
“What’s so funny? Can’t I be a little treasure?” “ He Ziyan raised an eyebrow. ”Let me hear what she said.”
The host continued, “She said, ‘Er Huo Brother, I’m a high school senior who just finished the college entrance exam. It’s almost time to apply for majors. I have a major I really like, but my family has different ideas. They think another major has better prospects. I’m so confused right now. I want to hear your thoughts, Brother?’”
Fang Juexia smiled. “That’s a tough question.”
“Yeah, I thought you were going to tell us a joke,” He Ziyan teased before turning serious. “Actually, I think your confusion isn’t about the major itself. It’s about whether you should follow your heart or
Fang Juexia chuckled. “That’s a tough one.”
“Yeah, I thought you were going to ask me to tell a joke.” He Ziyan teased before turning serious. “Actually, I suspect your confusion isn’t about being unable to choose, but about not wanting to give up on the decision you already have in mind.”
Fang Juexia found his words resonated. Often, when people say they’re struggling or hesitating, they’ve already made up their minds deep down.
“If you already know the answer in your heart, you must try your hardest. Even if you fail in the end, you won’t regret it. But if you listen to others and choose a path you don’t truly love, it’ll be hard to stick with it. Looking back, that might become the biggest regret of your life.”
He Ziyan smiled again after speaking. “This is my very casual and irresponsible advice. Everyone feels lost at times. I’ve been lost for over twenty years, and I never had family to make decisions for me, but I made it through. Don’t be afraid. Being brave is the only way.”
No family.
Hearing him brush off his past so lightly, Fang Juexia felt a pang of sympathy. He didn’t know any more about He Ziyan’s youth than these fans did. He rarely spoke of it, usually joking around as if he had no worries.
But he also knew that no one truly lived without troubles.
The host mused, “Every youth, every summer of adolescence, probably holds countless stories. As long as you keep moving forward, a bright future awaits.”
He continued, “A listener named Green Summer Light-Year says, ‘Hello, I’m a fan of Kaleido and the drama Green Wave. Today is my birthday, and I’d like to ask Brother Juexia to sing ”Night Walk.“ Is that okay?’”
Upon hearing this, Fang Juexia asked, “Me?”
Jiang Miao tilted her head at him, signaling, “Go ahead. Ling Yi sang his OST last time too.”
“Right.” Ling Yi spotted the guitar nearby and suggested, “Why not have Xiao Pei accompany him on guitar?”
So they casually launched into a radio-style acoustic guitar rendition of “Night Walk.” Pei Tingsong took the guitar, strummed the strings, and looked toward Fang Juexia.
Fang Juexia nodded. The guitar’s tone was deeply melancholic, and the atmosphere suddenly transformed into that of friends gathered on the grass listening to a live performance.
“I’ve waited by your window under the scorching sun
My bike circling tree-lined paths
Waiting for you, the rear seat polished to shine
Even dusk holds no difference
Light spilling over you
Makes everything feel different”
His voice was unique—cool, yet when singing such a love song, it carried an additional, subtle, indescribable emotion.
The originally melancholic melody, paired with these tender, romantic lyrics, grew softer still.
Pei Tingsong strummed his guitar, occasionally glancing up at him. They shared a knowing smile.
“Hiding from the crowd’s gaze
Wandering through the abandoned playground
The sunburn on your cheekbones
is as beautiful as a kiss mark.”
“Do you like fireworks?”
“I hope so.”
When Fang Juexia first composed this piece, he relied solely on his innate musical talent and instinct. The melody was fine, but it lacked a soul until Pei Tingsong wrote the lyrics, completing the whole.
“The summer heat scorches the moon
Shimmering shards plunge into waves
Sweat remains transparent, dampening daytime fantasies
Cicada cries mask desire
Flowers devour July’s sunlight
The scent at your neck weaves a net in dreams”
As he sang, Fang Juexia couldn’t help but recall waking up in that small workshop, receiving these lyrics, and the rush of excitement that filled his heart.
“Is that so? Will it rain tonight?
I’m starting to hate the rain
Riding home will soak your shirt, won’t it?
Green algae run wild along the coastline, like my fantasies about you
Fireworks suddenly burst forth, my desire to kiss you has nowhere to hide”
Pei Tingsong strummed the guitar while providing his own low-pitched harmony, blending seamlessly into the song. In the OST solo version, that harmony was also his.
“Wait? Let the sky grow darker still.”
I’ve begun to love the night.
Will darkness make you try to depend on me?
I don’t want this heatwave to end—why can’t July last longer?
When our hands touch, my chest burns hot; I grasp a strand of pure white light.
All the things they once experienced together, all the vivid memories, were sliced by Pei Tingsong into countless fragmented metaphors. Like a jumbled puzzle, they were pieced together into a story seemingly unrelated to them, solely about first love. Beyond each other, no one else could trace its origins.
“If asked about my date,
I’d smile and say it’s the moon.
You’d blame me for lying,
and I’d say summer is so long.”
Unknown to all, sung by everyone.
Author’s Note: As usual, the full lyrics are below~ Warning: super long author’s note. You can still close this now, darlings.
You can compare the lyrics with the part where the two of them discuss their creation in the workshop to discover more~
《Night Walk》
Composer: Fang Juexia
Lyricist: Pei Tingsong
Arranged by: Pei Tingsong
Final interpretation rights: Zhi Chu
I’ve kept watch beneath your window in the blazing sun
My bike circles the tree-lined paths
The time spent waiting for you polished the rear seat to a shine
Dusk brings no real change
But when light falls upon you, everything transforms
Dodging the crowd’s gaze
Wandering through the abandoned playground
The sunburn on your cheekbones
As beautiful as a kiss mark
Do you like fireworks? I hope so
The summer heat scorches the moon
Shimmering shards fall into the waves
Sweat remains transparent, dampening daytime fantasies
Cicada songs mask desire
Flowers devour July’s sunlight
The scent at your neck weaves a dreamlike web
Is it? Will it rain tonight?
I’m starting to hate the rain
Riding home would soak your shirt, wouldn’t it?
Green algae run wild along the coastline—doesn’t it resemble my fantasies about you?
Fireworks suddenly burst into bloom, my desire to kiss you has nowhere to hide
Wait? Let the sky darken a little more.
I’m starting to like the night
Will the darkness make you try to depend on me?
I don’t want this heatwave to end—why can’t July last longer?
When our hands touch, my chest burns hot. I hold a pure white glow.
If someone asks about my date tonight,
I’ll smile and say it’s the moon.
You’ll scold me for being a liar.
I’ll say summer is so long.
