"Tomorrow is the big day on stage."
"No matter if we win an award or not, it's fine—just enjoy the performance."
As the art festival approached, Chen Mo, the unofficial instructor, was even more nervous than Ji Nian and the others.
"Shen Qingtang, remember to keep the tempo faster. And Yang Xinyu, don’t rush the beat—stick to the eighth-note rests."
"Xiang Wan, stay calm. Once you’re on stage, just imagine the audience as a bunch of pumpkins."
"Lu Jinghuai… well, just keep doing what you’re doing."
"Ji Nian, no spicy or greasy food after you get home today. Don’t catch a cold while sleeping, and take good care of your voice."
Ji Nian couldn’t help but laugh.
"Don’t worry, Uncle. We’ve got it all memorized."
She carefully put away her custom microphone—a deep green one adorned with intricate vine patterns and a dazzling sunflower at the base. It had been specially commissioned for her by Ji Tingzhou.
Yang Xinyu gazed around the practice room with a sigh.
Who would’ve thought? Back when he was a kid, his mother had forced him to learn the drums. Now, picking them up again, he’d expected to feel nothing, but somehow, he’d grown fond of it.
Then again, maybe it wasn’t the drums he liked—maybe it was the people in the Bullcalf Band.
As he packed his things, shoving a towel into his bag, his phone suddenly buzzed violently.
Seeing the caller’s name, Yang Xinyu pressed his lips together in disgust, hung up, and blocked the number without hesitation.
When he looked up again, he was back to being his usual bright-eyed self.
On their way out, Ji Nian deliberately slowed her steps to walk beside him, leaning in to whisper, "Don’t forget to take your medicine on time."
Yang Xinyu nodded firmly. "Got it!"
Maybe it was the exercise, but lately, he hadn’t even needed sleeping pills to fall into a deep slumber.
His eyes flickered with determination as he murmured, "Tomorrow will go smoothly."
As if in agreement, Ji Nian reached over and gave his shoulder a reassuring pat.
Just then, something fell from Lu Jinghuai’s person as he walked slightly apart from them.
Ji Nian bent down to pick it up.
It was a chunky men’s ring—silver, studded with black diamonds.
She recognized it instantly. Lu Jinghuai often wore such accessories during their private meetings.
"Your Highness," she teased under her breath, abandoning her conversation with Yang Xinyu to approach Lu Jinghuai. She handed the ring to him, whispering conspiratorially, "You dropped this."
"Hm?"
Lu Jinghuai tilted his head slightly, as if he hadn’t heard her.
Ji Nian had no choice but to discreetly press the ring into his palm.
His long fingers curled slightly at his side as she nudged his hand open, slipping the ring into his grasp.
Lu Jinghuai’s skin was warmer than hers, and the moment their fingers brushed, his instinctively tightened, their hands briefly clasped together.
Before Ji Nian could pull away, Lu Jinghuai realized what she’d given him and loosened his grip.
Glancing down at the ring now safely in his palm, he tucked it away carefully and murmured, "Thanks."
Ji Nian didn’t press further.
That night, she went to bed early but didn’t fall asleep right away.
Propping her chin on her hand, she stared at the poster on her wall—the one Ji Tingzhou had painted for her himself.
The background was a stretch of black, adorned with large metallic pink art letters spelling "Newbie," surrounded by a dreamy haze of soft purple and pink. Below it, a pattern of five fists bumping together represented their group.
The date in the bottom-right corner showed that it was tomorrow.
Ji Nian: ["...Damn, why am I so nervous?"]
Since she couldn’t sleep anyway, she turned the bedside lamp brighter and picked up the lyrics sheet with its corners nearly crumpled to shreds, studying it carefully.
To avoid straining her voice, she didn’t dare sing aloud, silently recalling every technique Chen Mo had taught her.
When she reached Lu Jinghuai’s song, she parted her lips, then closed them again.
Come to think of it, she wasn’t sure if it was just her imagination, but every time Ji Nian practiced this song, Lu Jinghuai’s gaze lingered on her more often than usual.
Even Chen Mo had remarked that his performance of this song felt better than the other one—more emotionally nuanced—but he needed to bring more energy for the finale.
Her eyes paused over the most familiar section.
Ji Nian’s expression turned complicated.
Ever since she first noticed Lu Jinghuai’s odd behavior, she’d started picking up on more and more little details.
["Am I being narcissistic...? But the little crown prince really seems like he’s..." ]
Putting the paper down, Ji Nian flopped onto her side with a sigh—just as her phone buzzed.
She debated between ignoring it and taking a peek.
In the end, she chose the latter.
The message was from Lu Jinghuai.
‘Good night.’
Ji Nian smirked and replied with a sticker of a puppy turning off the lights.
After exiting the chat, she noticed others had messaged her too.
Shen Qingtang told her to sleep early.
Gu Xiuyuan sent a long list of reminders.
He Xiang only dropped a single sticker—
A puppy raising its paw in encouragement.jpg
Yep, one he’d definitely saved from her collection.
After reading through everything, Ji Nian settled back into bed, the nervous flutter in her chest from thinking about tomorrow’s performance slowly easing.
She was, after all, the woman who had once presented her research to an audience of three thousand in a grand hall.
...
Ji Tingzhou had woken up early and was already seated at the table.
Ji Nian greeted him before sitting down, only to find a slightly burnt omelet placed in front of her.
There was no way the family chef would serve her something charred.
It took her exactly one second to realize what this meant. She looked up at Ji Tingzhou, who was leisurely enjoying his own breakfast across the table.
"Dad, did you make this?"
Ji Tingzhou responded with a noncommittal hum.
He even tilted his chin toward the ketchup bottle beside her, signaling for her to help herself.
Delighted, Ji Nian snapped several photos. If Ji Tingzhou hadn’t stopped her, she would’ve asked the maid to fetch her camera—she distinctly remembered her dad buying a bunch of them recently.
Thankfully, her antics flustered him enough to cut her off before she could get them developed and hung up in her room.
Grinning, she squeezed ketchup over the omelet, spelling out "Second Prize" in bold letters before sitting down to enjoy her father’s cooking.
...
The morning was chilly and overcast. Ji Nian glanced up at the gray sky, hoping it wouldn’t rain in the afternoon.
Their performance was scheduled for then, and the stage was outdoors.
Since it was the arts festival, classes were shortened to just one in the morning.
Right after second period, Xiang Wan stopped by their classroom.
The whole school was buzzing with festival excitement. A few girls told Ji Nian they’d gotten their hands on a bunch of glow sticks and banners to hand out before the show.
Ji Nian had just finished expressing her gratitude when someone called her name.
Turning around apologetically, she saw Xiang Wan at the door, her face etched with poorly concealed anxiety.
For no apparent reason, Ji Nian’s heart suddenly sank.
“What’s wrong?”
The closer she got to Xiang Wan, the clearer the worry on her face became.
“Ji Nian, Yang Xinyu didn’t come to school today.”
