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Several years had passed since Zhu Xingyao last held a concert in Jiangcheng. This time, her family and friends were all seated in the audience. Most importantly, Jiang Tu was there too—now her boyfriend—and it felt as though everything had finally fallen into place.
The stage lights dimmed slightly, and Zhu Xingyao lowered her gaze, her eyelashes casting faint shadows on her cheeks as she lifted her bow.
The last time Jiang Tu had watched one of Zhu Xingyao’s live performances was in October 2008, when she was just 17 years old. Back then, her technique still carried a hint of youthful immaturity. Now, at 26, Zhu Xingyao’s skill and presence were far more captivating than they had been in those days.
The auditorium was silent, with the audience fully immersed in the deep, mysterious, and melodious tones of the cello. Many people took out their phones to snap photos or record videos, sharing them on social media platforms like WeChat Moments and Weibo. Li Xixi, Lin Jiayu, Ding Xiang, and others also posted updates.
When the piece ended, Jiang Tu overheard a male fan behind him say: “I wonder what kind of boyfriend someone as ethereal as Zhu Xingyao would choose.”
Lao Yuan glanced back at Jiang Tu, who shifted slightly but remained outwardly calm.
Du Yunfei, holding his DSLR camera, suddenly stopped recording. Leaning toward Lao Yuan, he sighed: “I’ve decided to find myself a new goddess to admire. It feels awkward rooting for her now—it’s like I’m pining after my buddy’s girlfriend. Did you see how cold Jiang Tu’s eyes got when he noticed me filming?”
At 11 PM, the concert concluded its scheduled program.
But Zhu Xingyao didn’t stand up immediately. Instead, she smiled softly at the audience: “There’s one more piece—a Bach composition—that I’d like to dedicate to someone special.”
A brief silence fell over the crowd before murmurs erupted. Someone shouted: “Who is it for?”
Curious and excited whispers rippled through the hall as people craned their necks, trying to identify the intended recipient. But with so many attendees and the dim lighting, no one could tell. Jiang Tu froze momentarily, lifting his gaze to the center of the stage. She had changed into a white gown, her eyes fixed on him.
Jiang Tu stared at her, his emotions swirling like waves within him.
Lao Yuan heard Du Yunfei mutter enviously: “I don’t envy anyone in this world except Jiang Tu.”
Lao Yuan shook his head, sighing: “Why are you torturing yourself like this?”
________________________________________
After the concert ended, Jiang Lu was tasked with escorting Shu Xian and Lin Jiayu’s parents home. Along the way, Shu Xian peppered Jiang Lu with questions: “Is Zhu Xingyao really your brother’s girlfriend? It feels like a dream!”
Jiang Lu replied helplessly: “Then consider it a dream if you want.”
Shu Xian promptly smacked him on the back: “How can that be acceptable?!”
Jiang Lu: “….”
Lin Jiayu’s mother sighed: “Jiang Tu already has such a beautiful girlfriend, yet our Jiayu still doesn’t have a boyfriend. What should we do?”
Jiang Lu teased casually: “Don’t worry. If she can’t find anyone, I’ll marry her.”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than another smack landed on his back. Shu Xian scolded: “What nonsense! She’s your sister, and you’re five years apart!”
Lin Jiayu’s father chuckled: “Earlier, I saw the man Jiang Tu introduced to Jiayu. He looks decent and seems reliable.”
________________________________________
After the audience dispersed, Zhu Xingyao sat down for an interview. The reporter asked: “Can we ask who the Bach piece was dedicated to?”
Seated on the sofa in the dressing room, Zhu Xingyao smiled: “Back in high school, there was a classmate who said he’d feel happy listening to this Bach piece. We hadn’t seen each other for many years, and I wanted to use this music to erase the bitterness of the past. From now on, it’s only happiness and joy.”
The door across from the dressing room was open, and Jiang Tu sat inside with Lin Jiayu and the others. Hearing her words, his eyes grew moist. He lowered his head and quietly stepped outside.
Lin Jiayu watched him leave, thinking to herself: Jiang Tu must be very happy right now.
Xu Xiangyang scrolled through social media posts about the concert and sighed: “You guys didn’t think to block Lu Ji from seeing these, did you? He probably wouldn’t take it well.”
Li Xixi turned to Lin Jiayu, recalling the first half of Waiting for the Stars she’d read on the plane earlier that afternoon. Her feelings were complex as she asked Xu Xiangyang: “I thought their fight back then settled everything. Hasn’t he moved on yet?”
Xu Xiangyang pondered for a moment: “Perhaps not.”
Lin Jiayu fell silent, aimlessly swiping her phone screen. She had assumed that after Jiang Tu and Lu Ji fought and all truths came to light, Lu Ji would have let go.
Hadn’t he?
Several times, Lin Jiayu considered sending him a message but ultimately restrained herself.
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Outside the venue, Jiang Tu ran into Zhu Yunping. Zhu Yunping looked at him calmly and said: “Let’s talk.”
They stopped at the end of the corridor. Jiang Tu stood behind Zhu Yunping, waiting for him to speak first. Zhu Yunping pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and offered one to Jiang Tu, who accepted it with slight surprise, murmuring: “Thank you.”
Zhu Yunping lit his cigarette and turned to look at Jiang Tu: “Did you already like Stars back in high school?”
Jiang Tu still hadn’t lit his cigarette, holding it in his hand instead. His voice was low: “Yes.”
Zhu Yunping narrowed his eyes: “Did Stars know?”
“She…” Jiang Tu took a deep breath. “She didn’t know back in high school. She probably found out later.”
“You two were desk mates, so you had plenty of opportunities. Why didn’t you tell her back then?” Zhu Yunping wasn’t aware of the full story between Jiang Tu, Zhu Xingyao, and Lu Ji. He simply believed that his daughter’s actions—for instance, hitting someone for Jiang Tu—must have stemmed from some reason or revelation.
Later, during Zhu Xingyao’s early psychological treatment sessions, she had been reluctant to cooperate. Zhu Yunping had learned bits and pieces from Li Xixi.
“I couldn’t…”
Jiang Tu swallowed hard, guilt evident in his tone: “I had nothing to offer her, only disasters and pain. Even if I could make her fall for me, you wouldn’t approve of her being with someone like me.”
Zhu Yunping took a drag of his cigarette, scrutinizing Jiang Tu: “You returned to China because of her?”
Jiang Tu met his gaze firmly: “Yes.”
“And now? Can you provide for her properly?” Zhu Yunping asked.
“Now, I won’t let her suffer alongside me. I can ensure her quality of life won’t decline because of me. Though compared to you, perhaps it’s still insufficient.” Jiang Tu had always been someone capable of shouldering responsibilities, and every word he spoke was a promise. “But I assure you, I will do everything in my power to treat her well.”
Zhu Yunping gazed at the tall, handsome man before him, thinking of how his daughter had played a Bach piece specifically for him tonight. His emotions were conflicted. That sly girl—she must have orchestrated this to prevent him and Ding Yu from making things difficult for Jiang Tu. As if they hadn’t noticed.
He sighed deeply and asked one final question: “No matter what demands or flaws she may have, can you accept and tolerate them?”
Jiang Tu replied without hesitation: “Yes.”
He wondered: What flaws could Zhu Xingyao possibly have?
Perhaps there were some—but so what?
________________________________________
By the time the interview ended, it was already midnight, 12:30 AM.
On Weibo, numerous posts and short videos about Zhu Xingyao’s concert began circulating online. One reason for the buzz was that attendees like Li Xixi, members of X Orchestra, and even Jiang Lu—an esports player—had been photographed by reporters outside the venue.
“Li Xixi and X Orchestra attending the concert makes sense, but Jiang Lu, an esports athlete? Since when did he start enjoying cello concerts?”
“Jiang Lu has followed Zhu Xingyao for a while. Maybe he just thinks she’s pretty!”
“Can’t an esports player appreciate classical music?”
“Jiang Lu is my husband; stop spreading nonsense. Zhu Xingyao might be his sister-in-law.”
That night, Jiang Lu scrolled through Weibo comments and nearly dropped his phone in shock. Hastily, he posted a tweet: “The tickets were a gift. It would’ve been a waste not to attend. The concert was excellent.”
Upon seeing this, Lin Jiayu muttered: “Something’s off about Jiang Lu lately. He must’ve done something guilty.”
Li Xixi posted a photo of her contract with Zhu Xingyao on Weibo, and Zhu Xingyao liked it, whispering: “Where’s Jiang Tu?”
Li Xixi replied: “I don’t know.”
Xiao Kui chimed in softly: “I saw Mr. Zhu leave with Mr. Jiang earlier. They probably had something to discuss.”
Sure enough, Zhu Xingyao pursed her lips.
The door to the dressing room opened, and Jiang Tu walked in. Zhu Xingyao looked up at him.
Jiang Tu approached her: “Are you ready to go?”
“Let’s go,” Zhu Xingyao answered. Li Xixi pulled Xu Xiangyang to his feet, yawning tearfully. “Everyone, let’s disperse.”
Lin Jiayu left with Li Xixi and the others. Finally, Zhu Xingyao slowly put on her down jacket, hat, and mask. Checking her reflection in the mirror, she linked arms with Jiang Tu and whispered, “What did my dad say to you?”
Jiang Tu glanced down at her and replied softly: “What do you think?”
Zhu Xingyao hesitated nervously: “Did he scold you?”
Jiang Tu’s lips curved slightly: “No, he asked me…”
“What?”
“He asked if I liked you back in high school.” Jiang Tu looked down at her. “Did you tell your dad about it?”
“A little,” Zhu Xingyao mumbled, glancing up at him. “And then?”
“That’s all,” Jiang Tu said, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her out.
Ahead, Xiao Kui and another male assistant named Tian cleared the way. At the entrance, Zhu Xingyao tugged Jiang Tu to a stop. He paused, lowering his gaze to meet hers.
Zhu Xingyao grabbed his collar, tiptoed, and kissed him.
Emotions surged in Jiang Tu’s eyes as he restrained himself, pulling her close and kissing her deeply. His voice was low: “What time is your flight tomorrow?”
Invited by a foreign symphony orchestra to perform at an awards ceremony, Zhu Xingyao’s schedule had been confirmed just two days ago. Her voice was muffled against his lips as she breathed: “An afternoon flight.”
Jiang Tu asked again: “How long will you be gone?”
“A little over a week,” Zhu Xingyao murmured, burying her face into his chest. “Can I stay at your place tonight?”