67: Chapter 67 Not as Handsome as You

The Mercedes-Benz "Driving Change" event for the China region was held at the Goldenport International Circuit in Beijing.

In August, Beijing had high skies and light clouds, and the asphalt surface of the racetrack was scorched hot by the sun.

That custom CLA was parked in the center of the track, its silver-gray body reflecting the sunlight.

Honestly, Chen Mo was impressed; this car had been to the desert and traveled across the ocean.

Both sides of the track were crowded with fans and media, some holding up light boards that read "Lawn Mower" and "Chen Mo."

He walked to the edge of the track, where a young man wearing glasses squeezed to the front, holding a model of the CLA in his hand.

"Brother Mo! Can you sign this for me?"

Chen Mo took the car model, signed it, and asked, "What's your name?"

"Zhao Yuan."

"Zhao Yuan, drive safely."

Zhao Yuan took the model back, his eyes turning red. He clutched the model to his chest and nodded vigorously.

"Brother Mo, you're so handsome!"

Chen Mo smiled and said, "Not as handsome as you. You're much more handsome than me. Do you want a photo together?"

"Yes!"

After the event ended, Chen Mo got into the CLA and started the engine.

The silver-gray car slid out of the racetrack and onto the airport expressway.

Chen Mo posted on Weibo, attaching an image with white text on a black background; it was a song.

"Mercury"

The caption consisted of just two words: "Listen."

In the first minute after it was posted, over 100,000 requests flooded the playback page on NetEase Cloud Music.

By the third minute, the comment section had broken 50,000 comments.

By the tenth minute, the streaming count on QQ Music had surpassed one million.

Half an hour later, a fan spontaneously uploaded a lyric MV of "Mercury" to Bilibili, and the bullet comments were so dense they looked like a wall of text.

The most-liked bullet comment read: "He sang 'How much further until I can enter your heart,' and I paused it because I needed to catch my breath."

The second most-liked comment read: "Mercury is the planet closest to the sun, but it can never catch up to the sun. Chen Mo turned distance into a song."

The third most-liked comment read: "'Closer' is about getting close, '7 Years' is about looking back, and 'Mercury' is about being unable to catch up. He wrote about the three kinds of distance in life."

On the Weibo trending list, "Chen Mo Mercury" shot to number one, "Mercury Lyrics" to number two, and "How much further until I can enter your heart" to number three.

Someone wrote in the comment section: "Mercury can't catch up to the sun, not because it's not fast enough, but because its orbit is fixed.

It knew from the very beginning that it couldn't catch up, but it still orbited around, circle after circle. Mercury orbiting the sun—there is no result, but there are also no regrets."

The music criticism circle wasn't idle either.

The first to post was a producer, who published a long article on Weibo.

"The arrangement of 'Mercury' uses the piano as a foundation, strings are only used in the chorus, and the drums never explode from beginning to end. Chen Mo left all the 'fullness' to the lyrics and left all the 'emptiness' for the listeners.

Mercury is closest to the sun but can never catch up. This is a gentleness written for all those who 'know it is impossible but do it anyway.'

After listening to the whole song, I thought of a phrase—'Accepting the inevitable with resignation,' but Chen Mo did not accept it with resignation."

Lang Lang posted a video of himself playing the piano part of "Mercury" in a piano room. After finishing, he spoke to the camera:

"In this piece, the left hand keeps repeating the same rhythmic pattern from beginning to end, never changing once. The right-hand melody changes, the lyrics change, the emotions change, but the left hand is always that same rhythm. The left hand is the orbit, the right hand is Mercury."

What truly turned "Mercury" from "a Chinese song" into "a Chinese song analyzed repeatedly" was a content creator on Bilibili called "Music Microscope."

He posted a 37-minute-long video titled "Frame-by-Frame Analysis of 'Mercury': How Chen Mo Uses Three Notes to Interpret 'Never Being Able to Catch Up'."

"Music Microscope" said at the end of the video: "When Chen Mo wrote 'Mercury,' he wasn't just writing lyrics and melody; he was writing about the action of 'chasing' itself.

The piano is chasing, the vocal cords are chasing, the waveforms are chasing. He put everything that could chase into it, and then told you—you can't catch up.

But that's okay, because Mercury was never unable to catch up to the sun; it chose to orbit. Orbiting is another way of getting close."

This video surpassed eight million views on Bilibili in 24 hours.

On Weibo, someone screenshotted the line "Orbiting is another way of getting close," paired it with the lyric cover of "Mercury," and it was reposted over 500,000 times.

Music critic EarDi posted on Weibo: "After 'Mercury,' the Mandopop scene has gained a new style of writing—writing about the process.

It's not about writing about attaining, it's about writing about chasing. It's not about writing about love, it's about writing about still having light in your eyes while orbiting someone. Chen Mo turned 'distance' into a verb."

"I can only say, as expected of a Chinese person who has been nominated for a Grammy Awards! Awesome!"

Someone asked below: "Who do you think he wrote it for?"

EarDi replied with a comment that was reposted over 200,000 times: "He didn't write it about one specific person; he wrote it about all the Mercurys who have ever orbited the sun, including you, and including me."

That evening, "Music Microscope" posted a second video on Bilibili with a title of only a few words: "Chen Mo replied to me."

In the video, he faced the camera, and on the screen was his Instagram direct message interface with "Chen Mo."

He had sent Chen Mo the link to that video, with the message: "Mercury orbits the sun; orbiting is another way of getting close."

Chen Mo replied with just two words: "You understand."

"Music Microscope" said at the end of the video that he had been doing music analysis for many years and had analyzed hundreds of songs.

This was the first time the singer himself replied to him saying "Impressive."

His voice trembled a little when he said this.

When Taylor called via video, Chen Mo had already returned to Los Angeles.

She was wearing a loose white shirt, which looked very familiar—the one he wore last year at Tribeca.

The shirt was too big; the sleeves covered her fingers, and the neckline slid down below her collarbone.

She wasn't wearing makeup, her lips were a pale pink, and her eyes held the mist of someone who had just woken up.

It was 6:00 AM in New York, and she had just woken up.

"I listened to that Chinese song," she said.

Chen Mo slumped in the sofa and asked in a muffled voice: "How long did you listen to it?"

"All night."

"Mercury is the planet closest to the sun, but it can never catch up to the sun. From the first day of its birth, its orbit decided that it could only circle around the sun, forever getting close, but never arriving."

Her eyes were narrowed, like a Ragdoll cat.

"Who was this song written for?"

Chen Mo didn't answer; instead, he stared at her collarbone and said, "You're wearing my shirt."

Taylor looked down at her cuffs, then rolled up the sleeves, revealing a section of her wrist.

On her wrist was a watch—not a Cartier, but a Huawei, with a dark gray strap, and his album cover on the watch face.

The one for "Epiphany"—

An empty theater, two thousand empty seats, a single spotlight, and him looking at the last row.

"I went to a Huawei store and bought it the day '7 Years' was released."

Chen Mo looked at the watch on her wrist and asked, "How long will you wear it?"

"'Mercury' is about not being able to catch up, but Mercury has never left the sun. It is always by the sun's side, and so am I."

On the screen, Taylor lifted her wrist, placed it just below her chin, and aimed the watch face at the camera.

She picked up the phone and brought it closer.

Her face filled the entire screen—golden short hair, pearl earrings, and the white shirt neckline slid down below her collarbone.

Her eyes were amber, turning a very light golden-brown in the morning sunlight of New York.

"Chen Mo, Mercury doesn't need to catch up to the sun. As long as it keeps orbiting, the sun will always be its own."

The moonlight at 3:00 AM in Los Angeles leaked in through the gap in the curtains, shining on the Cartier on his left wrist.

The second hand moved without stopping for a moment.

"Taylor."

"Hmm?"

"That shirt—you look beautiful in it."

She reached out, her fingers landing on the camera, just like that night in Tribeca when her hand rested on his chest.

"Seventy-two?"

"Not anymore."

"How many?"

"You count."

Her hand lingered on the camera for a moment, then she pulled it back and tugged the neckline of the white shirt up, covering her collarbone.

"Next time we meet, I'll count in person."

"As you wish."

After hanging up, Chen Mo looked at the night sky of Los Angeles outside the window. The phone screen was still lit, with Taylor's call log displayed on it.