Chapter 24 – Exclusively Published on Jinjiang Literature City

Chapter 24 - Exclusively Published on Jinjiang Literature City

The wall clock’s hour hand pointed to seven, and the livestream quietly began.

The fans first saw a drenched Qi Xie entering from the doorway.

Soon after, an equally soaked Shen Yao made his entrance.

[Such a steamy show this early? Can't believe it's free!]

[Wow, that's a noticeable bulge! Is this the fabled 'tree with big eggplants'?]

[LOL, you guys might not know why Shen Yao is called 'Big Yao'. It's quite obvious!]

[For the newcomers: During a talent show, they played a reflex game. They threw water at each other using cups. Shen Yao, being slow and wearing grey pants, created a scene that would be deemed too explicit now!]

[Hold on, isn't the team leader also quite endowed? Did you all miss that?]

[Damn, does anyone in this group come in a regular size? They say things are bigger abroad too.]

[Apart from Xie Wen Shi being young, everything else about this group is... sizeable.]

The fans were ecstatic. Amidst all the suggestive comments flooding the screen, suddenly, they saw the group heading into the kitchen.

[Wait, why are they all going to the kitchen?!]

[There goes the handsome Bian! Hold on, why's he headed to the kitchen too?]

On screen, Bian Qiao descended from upstairs, something in his hand and a smirk on his face, as he strode with long steps towards the kitchen.

Not long after, the manager Zhang Shao Ling arrived. After circling the living room and finding no one, he headed straight to the kitchen and seemed to have settled in there.

Fans were as anxious as ants on a hot pan.

[??? Seriously, why is everyone heading to the kitchen?]

[What on earth are they doing in the kitchen? Why haven’t they come out yet? Cameraman, get on it!]

[Is there something I, a privileged VIP, can't see? Cameraman, get in there!]

The cameraman was equally anxious, but there were no cameras in the kitchen, and they weren't miked up, so he had no clue what they were discussing. He was itching to barge in and throw the kitchen door open.

Inside the kitchen, the seven exchanged glances, enveloped in a strangely silent atmosphere.

A cold breeze seeped in through the window. Outside, the sky grew darker and the rain poured heavier, its pitter-patter against the window echoing the tension in everyone's heart.

Even the usually slow-witted Xie Wen Shi sensed something amiss and shifted away, staying silent.

He stealthily glanced over to find the team leader with a stoic face, half-lidded eyes harboring a shadow of displeasure. He was clearly upset.

Shen Yao clutched a bag, his tongue pressed against his cheek, lips sealed. He looked utterly dejected, like an eggplant battered by frost.

Bian Qiao held a cough spray. His ever-present smile seemed unchanged, but his gaze lingered on Ying Li.

And then there was Song Ji Mo, with a scheming smirk, as if plotting something.

What was that term again? Undercurrents. Xie Wen Shi felt waves of tension in this tiny kitchen, all seemingly revolving around Ying Li.

Turning his head, he saw Ying Li, pale as if unwell, standing amidst them like a vulnerable rabbit surrounded by wolves.

Ah, weren't they all a loving team? Why did he harbor such thoughts? He must be overthinking.

"Why is everyone so silent?" Zhang Shao Ling's gaze swept across each face, eventually resting on the drenched figures of Qi Xie and Shen Yao. "What happened to you two, looking like this so early in the morning?"

Song Ji Mo eyed the plastic bag in Shen Yao’s hand, raising an eyebrow, “Cold medicine? Who’s it for?”

Shen Yao: “It's for...” Ying Li.

But for some reason, what came out was: “I caught a cold. It's for me, okay?”

After speaking, even he felt the awkwardness, his face flushing in embarrassment.

Xie Wen Shi remarked, “You're out in the rain when you're sick? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“None of your business.” Shen Yao placed the bag on the table, his voice low and firm. “I'm going to take a shower.”

Cold water splashed onto him. Shen Yao wiped his face and regained his composure. He had overheard outside the kitchen that the cold medicine had expired. Without a second thought, he rushed into the rain, forgetting even his umbrella.

He ran hastily and almost stumbled on the way, all while hoping to get Ying Li the medicine sooner. But it turned out she didn’t even need his box.

The more he thought about it, the more disheartened he became.

As the water streamed down, Shen Yao abruptly turned off the faucet, shaking the water from his hair like a large dog might. He recalled seeing Ying Li holding a medicine box, which seemed to be from Qi Xie. Had Qi Xie also gone out to buy her medicine?

And then there was Bian Qiao, who never let anyone touch his things, let alone offer them for someone else's use.

It seemed many cared about Ying Li…

Downstairs, Xie Wen Shi rifled through the bag on the table. Apart from the cold medicine, there were various other medications. "Was he planning to have these as a meal?"

“Quite the assortment there,” Song Ji Mo chuckled, crossing his arms and tapping them intermittently.

Qi Xie glanced over, his sharp eyes appearing as though they might tear the plastic bag apart. However, he said nothing and headed upstairs to take a shower.

Bian Qiao also announced, "I'll head out first."

Only the four of them, including Zhang Shao Ling, remained in the kitchen. Zhang Shao Ling told Ying Li, "You should skip rehearsal today. Take a day off and rest up."

Ying Li responded in a deep, resonant voice, "Thank you."

After everyone left, Ying Li felt a warm sensation in her heart. Everyone was just too kind.

After making breakfast, Ying Li brewed some ginger jujube soup with the spare time she had, ensuring there was enough for the crew as well.

A crew member, holding the cup in surprise, asked, "This is for us?"

"The temperature has dropped significantly these past days, making it easy to catch a cold. I made extra ginger jujube soup to ward off the chill. Please have some," said Ying Li, now wearing a protective mask. "I ran out of bowls at home, so I used disposable paper cups. Hope you don’t mind."

The crew member responded, "Thank you so much."

With the living room being live-streamed, Ying Li hid in the kitchen after serving the soup, waiting for everyone to finish before cleaning up.

"Is there any left?"

As Ying Li was washing dishes, she turned to the voice and saw Qi Xie, holding an empty bowl at the doorway.

"Yes, that's enough."

Ying Li wiped his hands and served him another bowl. Qi Xie drank it all in front of him, then handed the bowl back, indicating he wanted more.

He drank three bowls in succession. As he was about to have a fourth, Ying Li commented, "You must be full by now."

Qi Xie: "It's delicious."

Ying Li: "Delicious?"

The ginger jujube soup, made from fresh ginger and red dates, has a strong aroma. Even though some brown sugar was added to balance out the taste, it wasn't exactly pleasant. Xie Wen pinched his nose and only took two sips before refusing any more.

Ying Li had made a large batch, expecting a lot of leftovers, but Qi Xie finished it all.

—

Finally having a day off, Ying Li intended to work on his thesis. However, shortly after opening his computer, he felt drowsy. With the effects of medication setting in, he ended up sleeping all day in his room.

When he woke up, his pillow was drenched in sweat. He felt like a salted fish left out in the sun, too exhausted even to turn over.

He reached up to touch his forehead, feeling its warmth. Possibly a fever. Glancing at the clock, he realized it was past eleven. He groggily got up to find a thermometer.

The camera in the living room was turned off, with only a single lamp on. Its warm orange glow illuminated the young boy's delicate features, casting a hazy aura around him, making him appear dreamy and blurred.

"Haven't you slept yet?"

Perhaps due to his illness, Ying Li's reactions were slower than usual. It wasn't until Shen Yao approached that he slowly lifted his head, and then gently nodded in acknowledgment.

Observing Ying Li curled up almost into a ball, Shen Yao's eyebrows furrowed, "What's wrong? Feeling unwell?"

Ying Li sat on the sofa, hunched over, his frail frame looking as thin as paper, as if a gust of wind might carry him away at any moment.

He replied with a calm demeanor, "I think I might have a fever."

Shen Yao's brow furrowed deeper, "Fever? Have you taken your temperature?"

"I'm on it." After a while, Ying Li checked the thermometer and remarked, "38.3°C. It's not too bad."

Shen Yao: "Did you take any medicine tonight? I bought some fever reducers."

"I've eaten, but I'll take some fever medication later," Ying Li nodded, "Haven't you slept either?"

Shen Yao scratched his neck, "I can't sleep. I just wanted to take a walk."

He wasn't lying. He had been experiencing insomnia for several days now. Despite the rigorous training during the day that should've worn him out, his thoughts kept him awake at night. Tossing and turning, he often found it better to step out for some fresh air to clear his mind.

In the dim light, his eyes shimmered as if they were washed with water, glowing brilliantly.

"If you're going out, remember to put on an extra layer," Ying Li said weakly, "I'm going back to sleep now."

As he stood up, his stomach embarrassingly growled twice, clearly audible in the stillness of the night.

Shen Yao chuckled, "Hungry?"

Ying Li pursed his pale lips, murmuring, "A bit."

After falling ill, his appetite had waned. He had barely touched his dinner, and now his stomach felt emptily unsettling, though he wasn’t particularly keen on eating.

"Taking medicine on an empty stomach isn’t good for you. Wait here."

Ying Li, dazedly watching Shen Yao head to the kitchen, packed away the medicine and soon followed him.

Shen Yao efficiently tied an apron and set a clay pot on the stove. He then rinsed rice, filtered water, and lit the burner, moving with practiced fluidity.

Next, he retrieved something from the fridge and washed a knife. Curious, Ying Li edged closer and realized Shen Yao was slicing meat into thin strips.

His knife skills were impressive; each meat strip was distinct, thin, and elongated, the mark of someone accustomed to cooking.

Noticing Ying Li's entrance, Shen Yao glanced over, continuing his task. "I initially planned to make century egg and lean pork porridge, but we’re out of lean pork. We only have chicken breast, so I’ll make chicken porridge. I'm a bit hungry myself."

Ying Li looked at him in astonishment, "You can cook?"

Shen Yao, meeting his surprised gaze, cleared his throat, "Well, a bit."

With neat, swift motions, he finished slicing the meat in no time, arranging it tidily on a plate. Ying Li’s amazement grew, "That's quite an understatement. This is more than 'a bit'."

The fire blazed, and the water soon boiled. Steam pushed the pot's lid up. Shen Yao removed the lid and stirred the contents to prevent scorching.

Ying Li watched him, utterly engrossed. Then, a gentle laugh escaped him, his eyes curving beautifully, reminiscent of a crescent moon hung on a treetop. Perhaps due to the fever, his cheeks displayed an abnormal flush, his skin so delicate that even the capillaries beneath seemed visible.

A wave of warmth washed over him, and Shen Yao felt his own cheeks flush. With slight embarrassment, he pursed his lips and asked, "Why are you laughing?"

Ying Li glanced back at the pearly white porridge in the clay pot, reiterating, "I can't believe you can cook."

Shen Yao raised an eyebrow, "Is that so surprising?"

Ying Li smiled gently, "I assumed none of you could, which is why we hired a nanny."

Shen Yao explained, "We hired the nanny for convenience. Whether the others can cook or not, I'm not certain."

Bian Qiao has a strong aversion to dirt and rarely even enters the kitchen. He'd surely never bother to learn cooking, especially with all the cooking smoke and grease. He'd probably find it repulsive.

Qi Xie, with his pampered upbringing, probably can't even differentiate between green onions and chives.

As for Song Ji Mo, Shen Yao hadn’t really paid attention, but he had never heard of him cooking.

Xie Wen Shi, who grew up overseas, is even less likely. He once mentioned learning to cook from Aunt Mei to prepare meals for his parents abroad. The result? He nearly blew up the kitchen. Clearly, he lacks any culinary talent.

Considering all this, Shen Yao felt a small surge of pride. At last, there was something he could do that others couldn't.

Shen Yao’s tone grew noticeably more animated, "I learned as a child. If I didn't cook, I wouldn't eat."

"Huh?"

Ying Li tilted his head, studying him with clear, soft eyes. Shen Yao noticed that Ying Li's hair had grown a bit long and appeared tousled from sleep. A strand of hair curled by his ear, fluffy and tempting. Shen Yao suddenly wanted to reach out and touch it, wondering if it felt as soft as it looked.

Song Ji Mo had touched it before, so there’s no harm if he did too, right?

As he internally debated, his hand acted on its own accord, reaching out to touch Ying Li's hair. The silky strands playfully slipped between his fingers, even softer than he had imagined.

Almost immediately, he withdrew his hand, explaining, "Your hair was sticking out."

"Slept a bit restlessly." Ying Li tried to pat the strand down, but instead, it sprung up even more, looking endearingly messy.

Shen Yao diverted his gaze, focusing on his task, "I never told you about my childhood, did I?"

"I was a country boy. My father passed away early, and my mother eloped with another man. I can't even recall what they looked like. It was my grandfather who raised me. As he grew older and his health deteriorated, construction sites no longer hired him, so he collected recyclables. He saved every penny, allowing me to go to university. I was the first in our village to attend college."

Ying Li inquired, "Was it Capital University?"

Shen Yao's round eyes widened, "How did you know?"

There was a hint of fatigue in Ying Li's brow as he lifted it slightly, "I heard it from your fans."

The capabilities of these fans are immense. Not just educational backgrounds; if they wanted, they could even uncover the color of his underwear.

For a child from the countryside to be accepted to a university in the capital is truly commendable. Ying Li could empathize. He, too, was from a rural area, attended elementary school there with limited resources. Only with great effort did he manage to enter a better middle school in the county. Initially struggling to keep up, he spent nights studying tenaciously, earning his spot in the top-ranked high school in the city.

Ying Li's college entrance exam scores were high enough to get him into Capital University, but he eventually chose South University, which was closer to home.

Shen Yao's lips curled into a slight smirk, thinking secretly that Ying Li had taken notice of him, even knowing he attended Capital University. The emptiness in his heart felt somewhat filled; it was the feeling of being cared for.

"Did they say anything bad about me?"

Ying Li questioned, "What bad things?"

"Like skipping classes, or getting reported for returning late to the dormitory. I was a regular at the administrative office during college." Shen Yao listed a few examples before suddenly asking, "Have you ever skipped a class?"

Ying Li shook his head, "No."

Shen Yao's eyes sparkled, "You seem too obedient to do that."

"I used to skip classes a lot, but not for fun. I worked. I've waited tables, managed an internet café, and later worked as a bartender promoting alcohol – I got a 200-dollar commission for each bottle sold."

It was during this time he developed his high alcohol tolerance. Wealthy clients preferred those who could drink; pleasing them not only secured the sale but also sometimes earned a tip.

As the past flooded back, Shen Yao eagerly continued, "With my first paycheck, I bought a second-hand guitar and later formed a band with a friend. We were so naive back then, with just a guitar and a second-hand drum set – and no keyboardist. Just the two of us."

The two, armed with youthful dreams and boundless aspirations for the future, set out with fervor.

"With our makeshift band, we managed to make a name for ourselves. We were on the news, interviewed by the local TV station, and even approached by an agent who wanted to launch our careers."

Ying Li probed, "And then?"

At this point, Shen Yao chuckled bitterly, "It didn't pan out. The agent was a con artist. We lost all the money we had painstakingly saved up. I tried to recover it, but to no avail. Not only did I not get the money back, I was beaten up with metal rods."

Pushing back his fringe, Shen Yao pointed near his brow, "Right here. I had a scar from that time, though it's faded now."

Ying Li leaned in closer. Shen Yao had high brow bones, thick eyebrows, and a healthy tan complexion. The scar, starting from the corner of his eye and stretching to his brow, was about three centimeters long. Slightly lighter than his skin, it was indeed hard to notice unless closely examined.

Without his glasses, Yi Li leaned in close to Shen Yao to see better.

The kitchen lights shone brightly, casting a faint blue shadow from Yi Li's distinct eyelashes. His lips had lost their color, appearing slightly sickly. He seemed even more fragile than usual, delicate as a flower needing care in a greenhouse.

A familiar scent gradually filled Shen Yao's nostrils, making the tip of his nose tingle.

With Yi Li's face so close, Shen Yao dared not even breathe heavily. To him, Yi Li felt as light as a cloud, fearing that a mere breath might blow him away.

Shen Yao spoke casually, but Yi Li's voice held a hint of bitterness, "You're famous now, really famous."

Recalling the past, Shen Yao reflected, "Yes, thinking about it now feels almost unreal, like it didn't truly happen."

He had experienced the bitterness of poverty, unlike Qi Xie and the others who were born privileged. Even if they achieved nothing, they'd still lead comfortable lives. He had to work even harder to stand beside them. Everything he has was earned through blood and tears, making him value it more than others.

Yi Li felt he was like wild grass, able to grow even when suppressed by a large rock, turning rubble into nourishment, and growing stronger against all odds.

"Your grandfather must have been very proud, right?"

"Of course," Shen Yao's casual tone became somber, "But he didn't get to see it. The old man passed away when I just started college."

"When I received my acceptance letter, I told him I was going to study in the capital. He was reluctant to let me go. A few days later, the hospital called to say he had terminal bone cancer. Not wanting to burden me, he took his own life using pesticide. He left me 3,000 yuan beneath his pillow, all the money he had saved his whole life. After he passed, there was no one left to support me."

That's why he took up part-time jobs. He needed money, but he also studied diligently. Even if he skipped classes, he was consistently the top of his class. The school didn't know what to do with him.

Yi Li paused, feeling guilty for unintentionally touching upon Shen Yao's painful past, "I'm sorry."

"What's there to be sorry for? You didn't know."

Shen Yao had never spoken of these matters before. Many in his circle had even tougher lives. But what good would talking about it do? To gain sympathy?

He couldn't resort to such tactics.

He detested being pitied, looked down upon, or being given handouts. Such gestures made him feel inferior. Dignity had to be earned, not gifted.

Yet, now he was willing to bare his wounds in front of Yi Li, not even understanding why himself.

Perhaps it was the sincerity in Yi Li's eyes, pure sympathy for him.

Deep emotions swelled within him, making him feel choked up. Looking over, he noticed the tip of Yi Li's nose had turned red.

Yi Li was indeed emotional. He had been holding up until he heard about Shen Yao's grandfather's passing. Tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to spill but not quite doing so.

"Hey, please don't... don't cry," Shen Yao said, scratching his head anxiously, fearing Yi Li's tears would fall. His hands were dirty at the moment, so he could only offer his sleeve, "Can you use this to wipe them?"

Seeing Shen Yao's clumsy gesture, Yi Li suddenly smiled.

Yi Li looked beautiful when he cried. Shen Yao thought he'd never seen anyone cry as beautifully as him. On one hand, he wanted to watch, and on the other, he hated seeing him in distress. Humans are indeed full of contradictions.

Genuinely afraid of seeing Yi Li shed tears, Shen Yao quickly changed the subject: "Have you ever been to a bar?"

Yi Li sniffed, "No."

Shen Yao remarked, "I figured. It's not really your kind of place."

If someone like Yi Li were to go to a bar, he'd be like a little rabbit lost in a den of wolves, likely to be utterly devoured.

"Why do you say that?"

Yi Li had always been a top student, avoiding all the places parents and teachers warned against. However, it seemed the stricter one lived, the deeper their curiosity ran. Yi Li was intensely curious about all that he hadn't experienced.

"It's not safe to go alone. If you ever want to, I'll take you when we have time."

The porridge was almost ready. Shen Yao added the seasoned chicken strips to it. After bringing it to a simmer, he let it sit for another two minutes.

Lifting the lid, a tantalizing aroma filled the room. Garnished with a few green onions, Yi Li's appetite was instantly triggered.

Shen Yao ladled out a bowl and handed it to Yi Li, "Here, try this. Blow on it; it's hot."

Accepting the bowl, Yi Li took a spoonful and gently blew on it.

His lips were full and lustrous, his tongue a delicate pink, reminiscent of a peeled lychee, tempting enough to make one yearn for a kiss, hoping to taste the juice within.

Shen Yao had dreamt of those lips, warm and moist, sweeter than any candy he had ever tasted. He unconsciously licked his own lips, swallowing hard, feeling the room grow warmer.

Once the porridge cooled slightly, Yi Li took a sip, his eyes instantly brightening as he mumbled, "Delicious."

His eating mannerisms resembled a graceful cat. Shen Yao asked anxiously, "Is the meat too dry?"

After swallowing, Yi Li responded with a radiant smile, "Not at all. It's perfect."

"Don't flatter me. It's been a while since I last cooked. Let me taste." Shen Yao took a sip using the same spoon and nodded slightly. "Not bad; seems my skills haven't rusted."

Yi Li paused, his eyes misting slightly from the steam, a look of innocent bewilderment within.

Shen Yao glanced up, "What's the matter?"

Yi Li's expression stiffened slightly, "I just used that spoon."

"It's not a big deal. Remember when we were duped and lost all our money? We shared a single piece of clothing and split a cup of instant noodles."

They're both men; sharing a little saliva shouldn't be an issue.

However, upon reconsideration, even if Shen Yao didn't mind, what if Yi Li did? He promptly fetched a fresh spoon for Yi Li, "Here, use a new one. I'll use the one you had."

Each of them took a bowl and dined in the kitchen. After finishing, no matter what, Yi Li insisted on not letting Shen Yao do the dishes.

By the time they wrapped up their small meal, it was nearing midnight. As they were heading to their rooms, Shen Yao called out to him.

Shen Yao asked tentatively, "Yi Li, we're friends now, right?"

Only after voicing the question did he realize his heart was racing, an unusual nervousness bubbling within.

He no longer dared to hope to be Yi Li's best friend; just being friends was fulfilling enough.

Even in his weakened state, Yi Li radiated warmth, "Of course. I'm more than thrilled to be friends with you all."

Shen Yao's spirits visibly lifted, feeling their bond had grown stronger than with anyone else.

That night, Shen Yao enjoyed a peaceful sleep.

The next morning, Yi Li took his temperature: 36.7°C. The fever had subsided. Other than a slightly hoarse voice, he felt fine and accompanied them to the sports center for rehearsal.

With the concert approaching the next day, their rehearsal pace intensified. Aiming for the best performance, they painstakingly refined every detail, sweating profusely on stage. Yi Li was equally involved, running around assisting.

During a break, Xie Wenshi, using a poster as a makeshift fan, exclaimed, "I feel like I'm breathing fire!"

Yi Li poured him a glass of water, "Here, have some water."

"Thanks, Brother Li," Xie Wenshi replied, downing half the glass in a few gulps.

Yi Li went on to pour water for the others.

The band invited for the concert was renowned in the industry. "Dream of Mountains and Rivers" was set as the opening song of the concert. The pipa part in it was a highlight, so they had specially invited the celebrated pipa master, Gu Feng, as a special guest.

Not far away, a middle-aged man in his fifties sat with a pipa beside him. Yi Li approached and handed him a glass of water, "Master Gu, you must be tired. Please, have some water."

Gu Feng inquired, "Yi Li?"

Yi Li expressed his surprise, "You remember me?"

Gu Feng responded, "Of course I do. You're in your third year at Nan University's Music Department, or should I say, fourth year now?"

Yi Li nodded, "Yes."

Last year, Gu Feng had given a lecture at Nan University, where Yi Li, representing outstanding students, had introduced him to the university's history. The fact that Gu Feng remembered his name was truly surprising.

Yi Li said, "How are you feeling? You seemed a bit off-color earlier."

Gu Feng replied, "I'm okay, just a little stomach discomfort. Probably not used to the local food and water. It's nothing serious."

"Do take care," Yi Li expressed.

After a brief conversation with him, Yi Li resumed his tasks.

This was the first concert since Number's debut. No one was more committed than they were, including Xie Wenshi, who continued to train despite expressing fatigue.

At 2 am, the stage lights went out.

As they wrapped up, Zhang Shaoling shared some exciting news, "The reservation count for tomorrow's live concert stream has already surpassed ten million!"

"Ten million? One, ten, hundred, thousand, ten thousand... Ah! I can't even count that high!" Xie Wenshi nearly leapt from his seat, "Are we really that popular now?"

Yi Li thought to himself, 'You definitely are. Even our university forums are buzzing with promotions, and there's even a dedicated fan support group.'

Clutching his chest, Xie Wenshi exclaimed, "I'm so nervous! What if I'm too anxious to sleep tonight?"

Shen Yao teased him, "If you can't sleep, then practice your lines. Don't keep improvising when you forget them. Your made-up lines don't even rhyme."

"Shut up!" Xie Wenshi pretended to strangle him.

"Come on, it's dangerous to mess around on the highway," Zhang Shaoling remarked as he clapped his hands. "And I've got good news for you. I've secured two days off for all of you. Once the concert's over, you can go wherever you wish."

Xie Wen Shi exclaimed, "Hooray for Zhang!"

Zhang Shaoling advised, "Rest well tonight and recharge. We have a tough battle ahead tomorrow!"

Almost no one managed to sleep that night. Even Ying Li got caught up in their excitement, tossing and turning in bed. C-platform recommended videos of Number's formation night's performance, and he spent the entire evening watching them, still feeling energized the next day.

The concert started at seven in the evening. They arrived backstage two hours early to get their makeup done.

To resonate with the opening song's traditional Chinese theme, the makeup artists designed battle-damaged looks for them.

Xie Wen Shi, with his mixed heritage, had predominantly Western features, with only a quarter Chinese lineage. Ying Li thought that traditional Chinese makeup might look out of place on him, but the makeup artist skillfully accentuated his features. His golden locks were tied high in a ponytail, and his sapphire-like eyes shimmered, oozing an exotic charm.

Shen Yao, with his thick eyebrows and naturally fierce appearance, was given a scar on his face by the makeup artist, amplifying his menacing look. Dressed in his outfit, he resembled a triumphant general returning from battle, walking tall and majestic.

Song Ji Mo looked like a shrewd military strategist, his waist cinched tight, cunning and crafty. Bian Qiao, in a white robe, seemed like an immortal descended from the heavens to save the world.

Finally, his gaze settled on Qi Xie. Qi Xie rarely wore makeup and had a laid-back demeanor, often half-lifting his eyelids when observing people. The makeup artist emphasized his natural essence, but this time highlighted the contours of his eyes and brows, making them even more frosty and piercing. With a smudge of blood near his lips, he looked like a demon freshly emerged from hell, no wonder fans claim he's both god and demon.

The tension was palpable. Few engaged in idle chatter. Xie Wen Shi was memorizing lyrics from an A4 sheet. Everyone was practicing their part, and everything proceeded in an orderly fashion.

Suddenly, the door to the makeup room slammed against the wall with a loud bang.

Assistant Wang burst in, his face pale as he blurted, "Bad news! Teacher Gu Feng has been hospitalized for acute appendicitis."

Zhang Shaoling's forehead creased as he repeated, "Appendicitis?"

Wang's voice trembled, "Yes, an ambulance just took him. What do we do now?"

Moments ago, while the makeup artists were attending to the band, Gu Feng collapsed off his stool. He curled up, his complexion ashen. Everyone was shocked. Emergency services were immediately called, and it was discovered he had acute appendicitis and needed surgery straightaway.

Gu Feng, a northerner, often had trouble adjusting when he came to the south. However, he would adapt after a few days. He hadn't taken his mild discomfort seriously, often just taking some medicine to alleviate the symptoms, never expecting it to be appendicitis.

For a moment, Zhang Shaoling was taken aback. They had practiced for so long, and just as they were on the verge of their performance, he's told that Gu Feng had to be hospitalized?

In his decade-long career, Zhang Shaoling had never encountered such a situation. But his professional instincts kicked in quickly. "Immediately find someone who can play the pipa. And send two people to the hospital to check on Teacher Gu Feng," he ordered.

With this unexpected incident just before the show, everyone in the makeup room was on edge, deeply engrossed in their tasks.

Five minutes later, Assistant Wang pushed the door open, his lips pale as death: "Mr. Zhang, we couldn't find anyone."

Zhang Shaoling's eyebrows furrowed tightly, as if ready to crush a fly between them: "You couldn't find a single person who can play the pipa?"

"No," Assistant Wang shook his head, resignedly suggesting, "Perhaps we should just use a backing track?"

Zhang Shaoling's voice rose a couple of notches: "Just use a backing track? How do we explain that to the fans? Should the entire band just skip their performance?"

The news of Gu Feng appearing as a special guest had already been announced. His massive posters were still hanging outside. Announcing last minute that he couldn't perform and resorting to a backing track meant that the entire band's appearance would be redundant. This was a major stage mishap.

At that moment, a soft voice from a corner said, "I can play the pipa."

Though the voice was somewhat hoarse, it pierced through the surrounding noise with crystal clarity.

Everyone turned to look. Ying Li sat in a corner on a modest stool, his backpack behind him, appearing every bit the obedient student.

His lips were pale, and a sense of frailty emanated from his thin cheeks, making him seem exceedingly delicate.

Zhang Shaoling looked at him in astonishment: "You can play the pipa?"

Rising from his seat, Ying Li nodded: "Yes, I learned during my university years."

Zhang Shaoling pressed, "How good are you?"

It wasn't the politest of questions, but the circumstances were hardly normal.

Ying Li modestly replied, "Decent enough."

He had represented his university in a provincial competition and had even secured the first position.

Zhang Shaoling glanced at his wristwatch: "We still have time. Play for us. Wang Xu, bring the pipa over."

In a short while, Wang Xu entered, carrying the pipa case, his face ashen: "The pipa strings... they're broken."

The revelation hit everyone like a bolt from the blue.

Inside the exquisite rosewood case, all four strings of Gu Feng's pipa had snapped.

After a long pause, Zhang Shaoling finally inquired, "How did this happen? How could a perfectly fine pipa have broken strings?"

Ying Li took out the pipa and inspected it closely, furrowing his brow, "It appears to be deliberate."

Zhang Shaoling, puzzled, inquired, "Deliberate? How can you tell?"

Nodding, Ying Li showed the cuts on the strings to everyone, "The cuts on these strings are very precise. They've been intentionally snipped."

The reason he was so certain was that he had been targeted with such malicious acts before. On the verge of a performance, his strings would be cut, and his stage outfits torn apart. Clearly, someone was deliberately trying to sabotage their concerts.

A murmur of shock rippled through the room.

"The cuts are indeed clean."

"So it was deliberately sabotaged..."

"Who could've done this? Isn't this a clear indication that someone doesn't want the concert to proceed?"

"How malevolent."

Zhang Shaoling's face darkened, turning to address everyone, "Who had access to this pipa earlier?"

In the wake of the sudden incident, the backstage had turned chaotic, and no one noticed who had touched the pipa. Even if someone had accidentally bumped into it, they would hesitate to confess. A hushed silence fell over the crowd.

Only a young girl, pale-faced and on the verge of tears, whispered, "I was in charge of the pipa yesterday. After placing it in the case, I never touched it again. I even checked it thoroughly..."

"Now isn't the time to ascertain this. We can check the backstage security footage later," Song Ji Mo remained relatively calm and asked Ying Li, "Can it be fixed?"

As Ying Li gently stroked the instrument, he replied, "If we have spare strings, we can replace them."

The young girl's voice dwindled, "When Master Gu came, he only brought this pipa and didn't bring any spare strings..."

Assistant Wang added, "We only have twenty minutes left." It was too late to find new strings.

Ying Li carefully placed the pipa back into its case and closed the lid, suggesting softly, "Actually, in the absence of a pipa, a guitar might suffice."

Song Ji Mo raised an eyebrow, "A guitar?"

Ying Li nodded, explaining with conviction, "Yes. Both the pipa and the guitar trace their origins to two Middle Eastern instruments: the lute and the oud. These instruments made their way to China via the Silk Road, evolving into the pipa, and in Europe, they developed into the guitar. They inherently share several similarities. With the right tuning, certain tones from the pipa can indeed be emulated on a guitar."

Shen Yao, seemingly incredulous, sought confirmation, "A guitar can replicate the pipa's sound?"

"Certainly, I've tried it." Ying Li often spent time in the music room, familiarizing himself with every instrument. It was by chance that he discovered the unexpected similarities between these two seemingly unrelated instruments.

Murmurs filled the room, "Playing a pipa piece on a guitar? I've never heard of such a thing..."

"Can it truly be done?"

Zhang Shaoling noticed the backstage crew standing idly and became slightly irritated, "What are you all waiting for? Fetch a guitar!"

Guitars were more common than pipas, and a crew member quickly brought one over.

Ying Li tested it out. The guitar had a clear, bright sound with good tonal quality. He began by playing the song using the guitar's natural sound.

Pipa notes are crisp and rapid, each sounding distinct, while the guitar's tones are softer, reminiscent of a continuous flow of water. The guitar didn't seem fitting for such a solemn piece, failing to elevate the climactic moments, making them sound somewhat off. Even those unfamiliar with music could discern the difference.

"That doesn't sound right; a pipa doesn't sound like that..."

"The difference is quite pronounced."

Song Ji Mo observed that Ying Li had played with almost no hesitation, delivering the entire piece seamlessly. He looked at Ying Li with a more probing gaze, "Did you transcribe the piece so quickly?"

Ying Li paused momentarily before responding, "It's a habit."

Upon hearing a song, he would instinctively transcribe it. He had listened to this particular song many times and knew its notes by heart.

He then began tuning the guitar. With a few simple adjustments, the sound of the guitar began to change, becoming sharper and more melodious. At first listen, it eerily resembled the sound of a pipa.

Before he realized it, a crowd had gathered around Ying Li. The overhead lights cast a soft glow on his chiseled profile. His lips, showing hints of fatigue, were slightly pursed, his expression a mix of solemnity and concentration. Then, his slender fingers plucked the strings, and a cascade of fluid notes flowed forth.

"Is that really a sound a guitar can produce? Are my ears deceiving me?"

"That's simply astounding..."

"It's magical."

There were initial exclamations of surprise, but as he approached the climax, the crowd grew silent.

When the piece concluded, everyone inhaled sharply. Ying Li gently brushed the guitar strings, the tips of his fingers still resonating with the lingering notes.

The fact that two distinct instruments could produce the same sound was utterly unbelievable.

At that moment, the band members voluntarily requested to synchronize their rhythm with Yin Li. Although it was their first collaboration, they interacted as if they had years of tacit understanding. They tugged and adjusted with each other, putting on a flawless performance in the cramped makeup room.

Xie Wen was left open-mouthed, too astonished to speak.

Zhang Shaoling's gaze changed as he looked at him: "I truly underestimated you."

Without a single wrong note and even controlling the entire song's tempo, Shen Yao was taken aback. He knew Yin Li studied music, but he had no idea he was this talented.

Everyone was in awe of Yin Li's exceptional piano skills. Song Ji Mo noticed his slightly trembling hands, and with deep-set eyes, asked, "Can you handle it? There will be a lot of close-ups on stage."

By now, practically everyone knew of his camera shyness. Yin Li hesitated, "I..."

With every ticking second, Zhang Shaoling grew more anxious. If Yin Li refused, he genuinely didn't know what to do.

Yin Li lifted his head, his clear and beautiful eyes blinking, "Can I perform with my eyes closed? That way, I won't see the cameras."

Hearing this, Zhang Shaoling finally let out a sigh of relief: "As long as you're on stage, it doesn't matter if you're blindfolded! You're our savior!"

Xie Wen immediately stepped forward and gave him a big hug: "Brother Li, you're absolutely amazing!"

Yin Li swayed from the hug, his guitar-clutching fingers tightening to the point of turning white. It felt as if he had pushed himself into a precarious situation.

When Zhang Shaoling asked who could play the pipa, without a second thought, he spoke up. This current scenario was something he should've anticipated.

He admitted that, for a split second when Song Ji Mo asked if he could handle it, he had second thoughts.

He wasn't sure if he could withstand the multitude of cameras and the immense pressure.

If he didn't play well, he would ruin the concert.

Yet, if he didn't step on stage, the concert was destined to be less than perfect.

Perhaps seeing their relentless efforts and the sweat poured on stage, not wanting their hard work to go in vain nor disappoint the hopeful fans below, that fleeting thought of backing out was suppressed when he saw those expectant eyes on him.

Zhang Shaoling directed, "Hurry up! Only fifteen minutes left. Everyone, get to what you need to do and stop gathering here."

The crowd dispersed, and Yin Li returned to his seat, now accompanied by a guitar.

He sighed deeply in frustration, curling up slightly and staring blankly at the ground.

On the surface, he appeared calm, but inside, he was incredibly nervous. The largest stage he'd been on before was last year's Nanda University celebration with over twenty thousand students and teachers watching. Even if he embarrassed himself, it remained within the university. But today, there were over forty thousand people, including fans and numerous guest performers. To say he wasn't nervous would be a lie.

Furthermore, with the immense popularity of "Number", as soon as the camera pans to him, everyone will know he's here playing babysitter to the top-tier boy band. Such exposure feels suffocating.

Thinking about it, he started regretting not discussing wearing a mask on stage with Zhang Shaoling earlier.

Lost in thought, a shadow loomed over him. Looking up, it was Song Ji Mo.

Song Ji Mo gazed down, "I've spoken to Zhang. You can wear a mask on stage, and they won't focus on you much."

Yin Li paused, "Really?"

Song Ji Mo soothingly ruffled his hair, his voice gentle, "Yes, don't push yourself too hard."

Song Ji Mo was so considerate. A warmth spread in Yin Li's heart. He managed a faint smile, "Thank you." Distraction evident in his voice, he added, "I need to use the restroom."

Yin Li had an odd quirk: when nervous, he constantly felt the need to visit the restroom. The more nervous, the more intense the feeling.

Even though he had been to the restroom earlier, he went again, hurriedly. When someone bumped into him en route, he would only mutter an absent-minded "It's okay."

The restroom had no stalls, just a line of urinals, similar to any typical men's restroom.

It was empty inside. Yin Li undid his pants, but a long silence followed without the sound of a stream.

Eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed, he remained oblivious to someone standing next to him.

By the time he heard the sound of water next to him, nothing had happened for him. His brows knitted tighter, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

Qi Xie glanced at him, asking, "Having trouble?"

So engrossed, Yin Li had completely tuned out the surrounding noises, unaware of someone beside him.

The urgency was there, but it seemed the more anxious he felt, the more impossible it was to relieve himself. His face turned a deep shade of red.

The next moment, Yin Li felt a warm, large hand gently grasp his, a towering heat pressing against his back seamlessly. Holding his hand, it felt as though he was entirely enveloped in a protective embrace.

Yin Li tensed up.

Qi Xie ran hotter than most, and as his hand enveloped Yin Li's, the warmth started to seep into him.

Yin Li was stunned for a split second, but before he could even begin to resist, a deep, magnetic voice forcefully and irresistibly invaded his ears.

"Such a grown man, still needing help to pee?"

Qi Xie's lips, cold as frost, grazed the contour of Yin Li's ear, but the breath he exhaled was burning hot.

Yin Li suddenly shuddered...

Author's Note:

Made some changes. Namaste ?.

Do guys wipe after peeing? (pondering)

I researched the * topic. If anything's incorrect, please kindly point it out.