YABE - 11

The afternoon shoot dragged on, and by the time they finally wrapped, night had fallen. Wen Siyu glanced at her phone—it was already 8 PM.

She couldn’t help but steal another look at the man sitting casually atop a classroom desk. His head was slightly bowed, his thick lashes casting shadows over his eyes, and he looked visibly tired.

It was no wonder—he’d been filming since 2 PM with only minimal breaks in between. Filming was an exhausting endeavor, both physically and mentally demanding. Even Wen Siyu, who had spent the entire afternoon standing behind the director, felt like her legs were no longer her own—let alone Jiang Xu.

The man sat there with his eyes lowered, absent of Zhou Yi, leaving only his assistant Chen to help him pack up.

After hesitating for a moment, Wen Siyu bent down, grabbed a bottle of mineral water from the box at her feet, and walked over to him.

When she stopped in front of him, Jiang Xu happened to lift his head, mirroring the scene from earlier that morning—except this time, he was seated on the desk, bringing their heights roughly level.

After almost no rest throughout the day, the girl’s eyes lacked vitality, yet she still smiled at him.

Her smile was lovely; her naturally round, almond-shaped eyes curved gently, and a small dimple appeared at the corner of her mouth.

She extended the bottle of water toward him: “Teacher Jiang, you’ve worked hard today.”

Jiang Xu lowered his gaze to the bottle of water.

Three seconds passed in silence. He didn’t move.

“Teacher Jiang?” The girl called out again, puzzled, then suddenly realized something and exclaimed, “Oh!” She hurriedly explained, “This is a new one I just grabbed—it hasn’t been opened yet.”

“It’s not that.” This time, the man responded instantly.

He paused briefly, saying nothing more, but reached out to take the bottle of water. Lifting his head, he looked at her: “Thank you.”

Wen Siyu lightly replied, “You’re welcome,” and politely bid him farewell before walking away. The moment she turned around, her lips couldn’t help but curve upward slightly.

Her heart was pounding wildly, and she even felt her fingers—the ones that had held the bottle of water—beginning to tremble.

High school girls were notoriously fanatical when it came to idol worship. Earlier, the entire classroom had been surrounded three layers deep by excited fans. It wasn’t until the school principal intervened that the crowd dispersed. If not for that, Wen Siyu had no doubt they would have stayed until now.

Exchanging brief goodbyes with a fellow crew member, the girl hummed a tune as she left the classroom to use the restroom.

Though a bit tired, her mood was inexplicably buoyant, and her body felt lighter, as if even fatigue had vanished.

As she squatted in the stall, she sang songs spanning various genres—from On the Tibetan Plateau to Above the Moon , from Queen Consort to Li Bai .

Eventually, she gave up on actual songs altogether and began humming a melody of her own invention, surrendering herself to the ocean of music.

After washing her hands, shaking off the droplets, and closing her eyes, she stepped out of the women’s restroom, basking in the serenity.

By now, most of the crew had left. At 8 PM, the school building was eerily empty, its lights switched off. Only moonlight seeped through the windows, crawling across the marble floor in soft fragments.

Wen Siyu, still waving her hands, emerged singing, completely absorbed in her world.

Jiang Xu stood leaning against a nearby window, hands casually tucked into his pockets, watching her.

Wen Siyu choked.

Her hands froze mid-wave. Her song died on her lips.

She stopped moving altogether.

In that moment, her world fell silent.

And filled with despair.

And the unspoken exclamation—oh, damn.

—How could this even happen?

The man stood with his back to the window, his face shrouded in shadow under the faint moonlight, making his expression unreadable.

His voice, like the moonlight, was soft: “Why did you stop singing?”

“…”

Wen Siyu’s brain froze, as if filled with slowly solidifying paste. She had no idea how to respond. All she wanted was to find a crack in the ground to crawl into—or perhaps retreat back into the restroom and smash her head against the tiles.

Taking a deep breath, her voice trembled: “…Teacher Jiang, you’re still here… Ha, haha…”

Jiang Xu straightened up and walked over: “I was about to leave, but I heard some noise and thought there might be ghosts.”

Wen Siyu: “….”

Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to demonstrate what constitutes professional awkward conversation with your idol.

The little girl closed her eyes, braced herself, and thought, Well, he’s already heard me, so what do I have to fear? With a resigned shrug, she walked over to him: “Teacher Jiang, I really don’t know how to respond to that.”

Her fluffy little head hung low, looking like a dejected animal.

Jiang Xu fought the urge to pat her head and averted his gaze, walking forward: “I think the van must have already left by now.” Smiling faintly, he added, “You always seem to be late.”

“The school isn’t far from the hotel. I planned to walk back anyway, so I could grab some snacks along the way…” The girl trailed after him, still visibly weighed down by her earlier embarrassment.

Jiang Xu glanced down at her and said softly: “Actually, I’m really bad at singing.”

The girl let out a surprised “Eh?” and blinked her wide eyes at him: “Teacher Jiang, your voice is so pleasant—how could you possibly sing badly?”

The man chuckled and stopped walking.

Wen Siyu, unsure why, also halted beside him.

Cocking her head, she called out uncertainly: “Teacher Jiang?”

Her voice carried a slight sweetness, crisp and clean like mint candy in summer.

Jiang Xu remembered—that same voice, during her livestreams, would travel through the screen and speakers, carried by electrical currents straight into his ears, calling him “A Xu.” Unlike now, where she spoke with restraint, back then her words flowed freely and lightly.

Deep inside, a tiny white butterfly seemed to flutter upward from the base of his spine, traveling along his backbone and into his skull, where it gently flapped its wings.

Jiang Xu looked at her and asked: “What would you like to hear?”

Wen Siyu was momentarily stunned, staring at him blankly.

The man thought for a moment: “I think all my singing sounds the same anyway, so I’ll just pick something random.”

With that, Jiang Xu straightened himself, cleared his throat, and began to sing earnestly.

Over the course of his decade-long career, Jiang Xu had never sung a single note.

Whether on variety shows, interviews, or talk shows, even when hosts jokingly brought up the topic, he had always brushed it off lightly.

But now, in this quiet, empty school building, clad in a simple white shirt, standing by the window, he appeared as pure and youthful as a boy.

His deep brown eyes fixed on her, without accompaniment, his low baritone voice carrying each word directly to her.

Though his voice was flat, every line was painfully off-key.

Though Wen Siyu couldn’t recognize the song he was attempting to sing because there was no discernible tune.

Once, Wen Siyu and her best friend had joked that if Jiang Xu ever sang to her, her heart might race so fast she’d pass out on the spot.

But now, she could hear her heartbeat clearly.

Thump, thump, thump.

Steady, unwavering rhythm.

Yet with an intensity that seemed ready to burst from her chest, each beat synchronized with his voice, crashing into her eardrums.

When Jiang Xu finished singing, the girl remained frozen, staring at him dumbly.

“Was it so bad that you’re stunned?” His expression betrayed a hint of hurt.

Wen Siyu laughed: “Mm, it really was pretty bad.”

The girl tilted her head up, smiling at him, her eyes twinkling like stars.

Jiang Xu sighed helplessly and finally gave in, ruffling her head affectionately.

“Let’s go.”

His large hand landed warmly atop her head, neither too light nor too heavy, tousling her hair gently.

That warmth crept through her hair, across her scalp, and into her mind, rising higher and higher until—bang!

It exploded.

Headpat killed!

The man had already taken a few long strides forward, leaving Wen Siyu to snap back to reality. She hurried to catch up, obediently trailing behind him.

The two walked out of the school building. The summer evening breeze carried a lingering heat, wrapping lazily around them. The campus lamplights cast a dim yellow glow, with rows of trees lining the path on either side.

Wen Siyu’s steps were small, and she walked slightly slower than Jiang Xu. To keep up with him, she quickened her pace, appearing to hop along like a little rabbit.

The surroundings were quiet, save for the chirping of cicadas.

The little girl hopped beside him, resembling a cute bunny.

Jiang Xu considered slowing his pace but ultimately decided against it. Reflecting on her busy day, during which she rarely sat down, his steps unconsciously shortened slightly.

They reached the school gates, and Wen Siyu glanced around, spotting no sign of the nanny van.

Looking up at the man beside her, she was about to ask when he said: “I sent Xiao Chen back ahead of us.”

Wen Siyu let out a surprised “Eh?”

Jiang Xu explained solemnly: “I ate too much tonight—walking will help with digestion.”

“…”

Wen Siyu recalled the boxed meals from earlier, which, though terrible-tasting, had been devoured entirely by the hungry crew. That stir-fried shredded potato had indeed been quite tough to digest.

She gave Jiang Xu a once-over. Having shed his school uniform, the man stood bare-handed in a white shirt and jeans, his handsome face fully exposed, radiating confidence.

After a brief pause, she spoke tactfully: “Teacher Jiang, if you walk around like this, we might not make it back until tomorrow morning.”

No sooner had her words left her mouth than a few distant screams echoed through the air. Wen Siyu flinched, turning toward the source of the sound to see five or six schoolgirls in uniforms emerging from around the flowerbed near the gate, excitement and joy written all over their faces as they ran over.

Wen Siyu: “….”

She had underestimated the determination of high school fangirls. Apparently, even the threat of disciplinary action couldn’t deter them when faced with such beauty.