CS - 47

Lin Zhe Xia was silent for a moment, then retorted defiantly, “I was just saying that casually. Don’t take it too seriously.”

“Rainbow praise like that isn’t reliable. Don’t lose yourself in flattery.”

Finally, Lin Zhe Xia asked, “Are you done playing?”

Chi Yao: “No, there’s still one part left.”

Lin Zhe Xia: “Then why did you stop?”

Chi Yao put down the guitar: “I got lost. I don’t feel like playing anymore.”

“...”

Although Chi Yao didn’t continue playing, Lin Zhe Xia was still very interested in the guitar.

She had never touched an instrument before.

When she was little, her hands were more likely to throw punches than anything else, and she had no connection to anything associated with “elegance” or “art.”

So after Chi Yao set the guitar down, she eagerly asked, “Can I try it?”

Chi Yao didn’t say anything but handed her the guitar.

“Is this how you hold it?” Lin Zhe Xia took the guitar, mimicking Chi Yao’s earlier posture. “Is my position correct?”

Chi Yao instructed: “It’s tilted.”

Lin Zhe Xia adjusted the guitar upright: “Is it about right now? What’s next?”

Unbeknownst to her, Chi Yao had already moved behind her.

“Forget it; you probably wouldn’t understand if I explained,” Chi Yao said as he leaned close from behind the sofa, his voice suddenly closer. “... Give me your hand.”

Lin Zhe Xia froze.

Holding the guitar, she watched as Chi Yao placed his hands over hers, adjusting each finger into position.

Noticing her distraction, his voice clicked softly by her ear, followed by a gentle reminder: “Don’t let go.”

Lin Zhe Xia pressed her fingertips firmly against the strings, her mind a jumble of thoughts.

After all the adjustments were made, she tried strumming like he did.

But the sound came out choppy and uneven. Her words stumbled along with it: “... I guess, maybe... I’m just not cut out for music in this lifetime.”

Chi Yao said he was going downstairs to throw out the trash, so they went out together.

Lin Zhe Xia followed behind him. After saying a quick “bye” outside, she hurried back home as if escaping.

Chi Yao stood at the far end of the long path in the residential area, holding the garbage bag, watching until she safely entered the building before turning away.

Their building was near the entrance of the residential complex.

Looking into the distance, they could see the bustling crowd outside the gate.

After throwing out the trash, Chi Yao glanced outside the compound again. The group of people who had been loitering around for the past half month hadn’t left, but they seemed absent these past few days.

Amid countless discussions, the day of the school anniversary finally arrived.

On the day of the celebration, the school only held classes for half a day.

After lunch break, all teachers and students were gathered in the auditorium.

A red banner reading “Cheng’an No. 2 High School Anniversary Celebration” hung at the entrance of the auditorium, accompanied by flower baskets, red carpets—everything looked grand and ceremonious.

The students didn’t have much concept of the school anniversary itself. Their anticipation stemmed from the fact that they wouldn’t have classes and there would be performances to watch.

Moreover, one of the performers was a central figure of discussion.

Unlike the pure audience members sitting below, those participating in the performances had to gather backstage before lunch break.

Lin Zhe Xia’s poetry recitation group consisted of five people: herself, Chen Lin, Tang Shuxuan, and two boys from the row behind them whom they were familiar with.

When they arrived backstage, the area was crowded with many people.

Some performances required costume changes, equipment testing, and other preparations.

“Lin Shao,” Xu Ting, freshly changed, emerged from the fitting room. “You guys aren’t changing clothes?”

Lin Zhe Xia held up the printed poems: “We’re wearing our uniforms. Everything is kept simple.”

Xu Ting glanced at the paper in her hand and admired, “You’re not even memorizing the lines. Your class sure knows how to keep things easy.”

Lin Zhe Xia also marveled at him: “That outfit of yours is quite calculated. All those sequins—are you trying to blind the audience?”

Xu Ting took this performance very seriously, as evidenced by his initial efforts to get Chi Yao to join him on stage.

He had specially bought a performance outfit. It looked like an ordinary shirt, but under the lights, it shimmered brilliantly.

“I picked it carefully,” Xu Ting patted the shirt on his body. “Chi Yao and I each have one—he’s got black, I’ve got white.”

Lin Zhe Xia was a bit surprised: “He actually agreed to wear it?”

Xu Ting: “... Judging by his expression, he probably didn’t want to.”

Lin Zhe Xia couldn’t imagine what Chi Yao would look like in such an outfit. She scanned the backstage area but didn’t see him: “Where is he?”

Xu Ting said: “Old Liu called him for something. He hasn’t come yet, probably will be here later.”

Lin Zhe Xia replied with an “Oh” and continued preparing her class’s performance. Since their program was boring, their appearance order was relatively early. Similar to the speech competition day, they prepared in the backstage behind the curtain.

On stage, the host was testing the audio equipment, and the microphone buzzed faintly as the sound traveled over.

Chen Lin was performing on stage for the first time.

She was extremely nervous: “I feel like my whole body is shaking.”

Lin Zhe Xia took her hand: “Shuxuan and I are here with you. Don’t be nervous. You did great during rehearsals, and today will be no problem either.”

Chen Lin nodded.

After a while, she suddenly said, “I think I’m not as scared anymore.”

Lin Zhe Xia glanced at her.

Chen Lin added, “Because I remembered how you used to be afraid of going on stage too... Back then, I thought it wasn’t a big deal, but now you’re encouraging me, so I should be braver.”

The host finished testing the equipment.

The audience entered in batches, and the school anniversary officially began.

After a long while, someone outside the curtain called out: “Grade Two Class Seven, prepare for the poetry recitation—”

Lin Zhe Xia felt this scene was oddly familiar.

On the day of the speech competition, she had stood in the same spot, hearing a similar announcement.

Their class’s poetry recitation went smoothly. Such a program was hard to mess up—they just had to read from the script.

After the poetry recitation ended, they walked down the side steps and returned to the audience seats.

Once Lin Zhe Xia sat down, she reached into her uniform pocket: “... Ah.”

Chen Lin: “What’s wrong?”

Lin Zhe Xia: “I think I left my phone backstage.”

“Why don’t you go back and get it?” Chen Lin suggested.

“Let me ask Old Xu.”

After getting Old Xu’s permission, Lin Zhe Xia returned to the backstage.

There weren’t as many people backstage as before.

Xu Ting, the sly boy, was drawing his eyebrows in front of the mirror.

Xu Ting: “How’s this? Not bad, right?”

Lin Zhe Xia: “...”

Xu Ting: “Why aren’t you saying anything, Lin Shao? Are my eyebrows symmetrical?”

Pressed for an answer, Lin Zhe Xia reluctantly muttered, “Maybe it’s better if you don’t ask.”

“I’m afraid the words coming out of my mouth might hurt you.”

Xu Ting: “...”

As they spoke, the curtain of the fitting room nearby was pulled open.

Lin Zhe Xia turned her head and saw Chi Yao walking out.

The backstage lights shone directly onto the black shirt on the young man’s body. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath, just this single thin layer, which thankfully wasn’t see-through. As he walked, the shirt appeared slightly loose, occasionally outlining his figure faintly.

Since the school wasn’t strict today, allowing costume changes and makeup,

Lin Zhe Xia noticed that he was also wearing an earring.

The silver cross faced her directly.

Chi Yao seemed uncomfortable: “What kind of lousy outfit did you pick?”

Xu Ting: “Then take it off. You look better in it than me anyway. I don’t really want to be overshadowed by you.”

Chi Yao raised an eyebrow: “You call this good-looking?”

Lin Zhe Xia hadn’t planned to say anything, but the words slipped out unintentionally: “I think... it looks pretty good.”

By the time she realized it, the words had already left her mouth.

She slowly added, “I mean, it’s okay, barely passable.”

Chi Yao didn’t say anything further.

He didn’t complain about the “lousy outfit” anymore, nor did he mention taking it off.

Perhaps because he felt uncomfortable, or perhaps for some other reason, he lowered his eyes awkwardly and tugged lightly at the loose collar of his shirt.

At that moment, someone outside the curtain called out: “Grade Two Class One, prepare for the singing performance—”

Lin Zhe Xia realized: “It’s your turn.”

Xu Ting exhaled deeply and walked to the edge of the curtain to wait for his cue.

Chi Yao picked up the guitar resting on the seat.

As he moved, the collar he had tugged earlier suddenly loosened further.

His shirt buttons weren’t properly fastened, and with the guitar in his hand, it was inconvenient to adjust the collar himself. So he called Lin Zhe Xia’s name and stood in front of her, bending slightly: “Help me button it up.”

Lin Zhe Xia had intended to leave after retrieving her phone.

Suddenly hearing this, she froze in her tracks.

She stared at the prominent collarbone before her and the Adam’s apple moving as the young man spoke: “Huh?”

“I said,” Chi Yao repeated, looking down at her, “help me button it up.”

Lin Zhe Xia wanted to say, “Can’t you ask Xu Ting for help?”

But she hesitated, worried her reaction might seem too abnormal.

After all, considering her relationship with Chi Yao...

Fixing a collar wasn’t a big deal.

Yet her fingers felt disobedient. When she touched the black button, they stiffened, taking a long time to push it through. And her pinky accidentally grazed Chi Yao’s collarbone.

At this moment, the person outside the curtain urged again:

“Grade Two Class One—two minutes until you go on stage.”

The next second, Lin Zhe Xia finally managed to button the shirt.

She quickly stepped back: “Done.”

“Good luck with the performance,” she finally said in a tone more nervous than his own. “Don’t... don’t be nervous.”

Lin Zhe Xia returned to the audience seats, and Chen Lin casually asked, “Why did it take you so long?”

Lin Zhe Xia: “Something came up. It delayed me.”

Chen Lin: “But you came back just in time. Class One’s performance is next. I wonder if Chi Yao and Xu Ting learned how to play the guitar?”

In her heart, Lin Zhe Xia secretly thought:

She didn’t know how well Xu Ting had learned.

But Chi Yao had done fairly well.

Tang Shuxuan chimed in: “People in the front row are pulling out glow sticks—Chi Yao’s popularity hasn’t waned one bit. How exaggerated.”

The entire auditorium was dim, with only the stage illuminated by lights.

The glow sticks in the front row were particularly conspicuous in this setting.

After the host announced, “Next, please welcome Chi Yao and Xu Ting from Grade Two Class One to bring us a song performance titled Midsummer Night ,” they exited the stage.

Though Lin Zhe Xia had heard Chi Yao play the guitar before, it was purely instrumental accompaniment, and she didn’t know the song’s title.

So when the host said the song was called Midsummer Night , she was momentarily stunned.

After the host left the stage, the lights dimmed even further.

The spotlight fell on the two figures on stage, especially Xu Ting, whose outfit sparkled dazzlingly.

But Lin Zhe Xia focused all her attention on the person who appeared last—

The moment the young man in the black shirt casually walked out holding his guitar, a wave of screams erupted from the audience. The wildly waving glow sticks seemed to form a sea.

He lightly strummed the strings, and the sound traveled through the microphone to every corner of the auditorium.

The two had different singing parts. In the first half, Xu Ting played and sang, while Chi Yao stood silently beside him.

But this person was truly unreasonable. Even standing still, he still drew too much attention from the audience.

“So that day,” Lin Zhe Xia murmured to herself, “... he didn’t stop playing because he didn’t want to—it’s because he only had half the song.”

Just as she finished speaking, Xu Ting’s part ended.

There was a long interlude in the middle.

During this interlude, Chi Yao raised his hand and, as the interlude concluded, swept through several chords from top to bottom.

The first half of the song was unusually lively, but when it came to Chi Yao’s part, the melody became slow and somber.

It was as if transitioning from “daytime” to “nighttime.”

Chi Yao lowered his eyes, his youthful voice blending with the clean, sharp sound of the guitar.

“Remember that summer’s first flutter of the heart”

“You stumbled in unintentionally / Indescribable”

When Chi Yao sang this line, he raised his eyes and looked at the audience below.

“The starry sky reflected in your eyes”

“The midsummer night breeze / Concealing loss of control”

“And I stayed behind / Chasing you through time and space”

“...”

Perhaps Lin Zhe Xia was overthinking, but she felt the lyrics were like a grand confession hidden within the midsummer night.

The way Chi Yao raised his eyes also seemed as if he were searching for someone specific in the audience.

And at one fleeting moment,

She inexplicably felt a strange pull—as if, in the instant Chi Yao raised his eyes, they locked gazes across the chaotic crowd.

The audience was in chaos.

No one expected Chi Yao’s guitar skills to be decent.

Even less did they expect that a notorious troublemaker would stand on stage singing a love song.

Besides people waving glow sticks, many others held up their phones to take photos as souvenirs.

Lin Zhe Xia stealthily joined them, quietly pulling out her phone and opening the camera.

...

So many people were taking pictures with their phones.

She blended in unnoticed, surely no one would pay attention.

With too many light sources, the camera struggled to focus.

After a blur, the image on the phone screen gradually became clear.

It just happened to focus on the stage, capturing the shining, eye-catching young man under the spotlight.

Click.

The frame froze.

The feeling of secretly photographing someone you like crystallized at the moment she pressed the shutter. The person on the stage, admired by so many, seemed to be secretly captured by her, belonging solely to her.