Chapter 39: The Scent of Spring Blossoms

Chapter 39 The Fragrance of Spring Flowers Blooming

The silence hung in the auditorium for a few seconds, the audience still immersed in the emotional aftermath.

Just as the audience members thought the performance had ended, the strumming of a guqin suddenly rippled through the background music.

Following the rhythm of the plucked strings, the young man convulsed in pain, slowly lowering his gaze to his chest.

It turned out to be the enemy’s counterattack after witnessing their king’s assassination—their retaliation against the assassin.

Having long anticipated this outcome, he faced death without regret.

Like a shattered butterfly, the young man elegantly crumpled to the ground.

Using a bit of red makeup hidden in his sleeve, Jian Ye smeared it fiercely across his lips in a motion invisible to the audience, dragging the ghastly crimson streak down from the corner of his mouth to his jaw.

A ghastly crimson streak stained his pale face.

On the backdrop screen, images of his homeland flashed—vast grasslands, endless skies, blooming flowers—a death's final flashback.

The spotlight at the center of the stage cast a perfect circle of light over the fallen youth.

Jian Ye raised his hand three times, each lift weaker than the last, mirroring the faltering rhythm of a fading heartbeat.

As the light dimmed in sync with his movements, it eventually yielded to darkness and death.

The venue remained silent for three seconds.

Then, the lights brightened once more.

Jian Ye and his fellow performers had already lined up on stage, taking their bows.

The host stepped forward: "Thank you to these wonderful dancers for such an extraordinary performance! How amazing was that?"

The moment the words were spoken, the crowd erupted, applause thundering through the space.

"Aaaahhh!!! I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m dead! Mom! He’s so beautiful!"

"I can’t believe I cried watching a dance performance—the moment he fell, the tears just came."

"I thought it’d be an open ending, but whatever, that arrow was meant for me! It hit me, and now we’re bound!"

"Girl, your scheming is practically slapping me in the face. After this, how is anyone supposed to focus on the next act?"

"The performers after this are under so much pressure—there’s just no following something this spectacular!"

"If the Spring Festival Gala had dances like this, you think I’d skip it?"

"Got it recorded, folks! I’m rewatching this at least ten times!"

"Seriously, what’s the name of that freshman dance major? I’m checking out their campus forums later—no way I won’t find him!"

"He’s incredibly gifted. Just a freshman and already this skilled? His future’s limitless."

Jin Bo had no time to spare for the barrage of comments—he himself was dumbstruck.

He’d always claimed little interest in artistic performances, only attending to support his sister. Yet this act had utterly captivated him, leaving him deeply moved.

Glancing to the side to check on Qiu Yuelun, he was surprised to find the man fully alert, his gaze fixed intently on the stage, eyes alight with interest.

Jin Bo rubbed his chin, smirking playfully as he nudged Qiu Yuelun with his elbow. "Hey, Yuelun ge, what do you think? Not like those basic types, right?"

Qiu Yuelun didn’t say anything, just pressed his lips together tightly.

Jin Bo knew him well—read him like an open book—and grinned. "If you’re into him, we can go backstage right now and get his WeChat. Or I can have my sister do it—they’re both Yun Chuan alumni. Finding out who this hot guy is won’t be hard."

Qiu Yuelun clenched his fist. "Cut it out. Don’t go causing trouble for me."

...

After the curtain call, the performers exited from either side of the stage and disappeared backstage.

Jian Ye still hadn’t caught his breath. This body still had terrible stamina. Pushing through one full dance number was already his limit.

A sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead, nose, and back.

Li Xiangchi tossed him a clean towel. "A Ye, not a single mistake that time—miles better than rehearsals!"

Jian Ye gave a faint smile. "Yeah, thanks to everyone’s help and support."

The others waved him off. "Xiao Ye, come on—we’ve been through hell together. Quit with the formalities!"

"Besides, you’re naturally talented. We barely helped—you leveled up on your own."

"If you keep being this humble, it’s just humblebragging."

"When the rest of us stepped back and Xiao Ye was holding down the stage alone, I saw the audience completely stunned."

LMAO, who wouldn’t get lost in the beauty of our school hottie?"

Jian Ye wasn’t sure how he’d done, but judging by the thunderous applause at the end, he figured it must’ve gone pretty well.

Especially during the archery part—his eyes immediately locked onto Yi Siyu sitting in the front row.

That man looked ready to eat him alive, and Jian Ye was briefly thrown off too.

He’d never seen Yi Siyu with that kind of gaze before—burning with raw hunger, borderline feral, like he wanted to tear someone apart…

---

"System 748: Host has unlocked a Phase Two achievement. Thoughts?"

"Jian Ye: ??? When did that happen!?"

"System 748: System pinged you mid-performance!"

"Jian Ye: Sorry, I was too focused—I didn’t notice."

"System 748: Then let me replay it for you."

[Ding—Congratulations, Host, for achieving the Phase Two goal and earning the title *Intermediate Tea-Art Master*.]

[Ding—Reward permanently unlocked. You now have access to the *Fragrance of Spring Blossoms.*]

"Jian Ye: Fragrance of Spring Blossoms? What does that smell like?"

"System 748: A vibe you gotta experience! It’s a bodily upgrade for the user!"

"Jian Ye: So… it’s basically a natural aura?" "System 748: The intensity changes depending on the host’s mood and how turned on they are."

"Jian Ye: The way you're describing it sounds like pheromones, though not entirely… Don’t tell me this is an ABO universe story! Just knowing you exist as a system already shocks me enough!"

"System 748: Don’t worry, Host—you’ll get it soon enough."

Seeing Er Tong grin slyly in his mind, Jian Ye couldn't shake off a bad premonition. How could a system act so sketchy?

He had just messaged Yi Siyu, telling him he could leave early if he didn’t want to watch the remaining performances.

Since all performers had to stay until the very end for a group photo during the final curtain call—for the school’s annual event archives.

"Yu": It's fine. I'll wait for you.

The response was instant—just a few simple words, yet they brought Jian Ye an inexplicable sense of reassurance.

He smiled faintly at his phone when someone suddenly called his name.

Turning around, he saw Mo Huan standing not far away, staring at him intently.

"Senior Mo." Jian Ye pocketed his phone and took a few steps forward. "Why’d you come backstage? Didn’t you stay to watch the rest of the show?"

Seeing the vibrant young man before him again, Mo Huan felt an indescribable excitement.

He knew Jian Ye’s dancing would be beautiful, but he never imagined it would be so breathtaking.

As a performing arts student himself, Mo Huan could deeply appreciate the emotions conveyed on stage.

From start to finish, his fingers had trembled uncontrollably, and several emotionally charged moments had given him goosebumps.

Jian Ye wasn’t just a dancer—he was a performer, a master at conveying emotion.

The routine had layers, the emotions shifting and rising, and the storyline kept delivering surprises.

Today, Mo Huan didn’t just admire Jian Ye’s skill—he was utterly captivated by the way he lit up the stage.

A boy this talented and good-looking was exactly his type—a perfect match for his ideal.

So the moment Jian Ye’s performance ended, Mo Huan couldn’t stay seated any longer.

The typically calm, polite senior now had a faint flush on his cheeks, hidden in the dim backstage lighting. The moment he spotted the person he’d been longing to see, he blurted out his name.

As Jian Ye approached, Mo Huan’s breath hitched.

He discreetly wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, faking calmness. "I knew you could do it. That performance was flawless—the best I’ve seen in years."

No one disliked praise. Hearing Mo Huan’s words, Jian Ye naturally felt pleased and softly replied, "Thank you."

"Xiao Ye…" Mo Huan hesitated, his voice slightly shaky. "I… can I call you that?" He feared rejection.

But Jian Ye didn’t overthink it. "Sure." After all, everyone called him Xiao Ye anyway.

His voice was sweet, almost honeyed—just like him.

Mo Huan caught a faint, refreshing scent from Jian Ye—subtle, not like perfume, barely noticeable unless one paid attention. Not distinctly fruity or floral, just fresh and inviting.

He fought the urge to move closer, but Jian Ye took a polite step back. "Sorry, Senior Mo, my classmates are calling me over…"

Mo Huan caught himself—just now, he'd nearly lost composure. "Ah, of course! Go on. Later, let’s get dinner—you can bring your friends too. I’m buying!"

Jian Ye paused, thinking of Yi Siyu still waiting in the audience. "Sorry, I have to head home today. I’ve got someone waiting."

Mo Huan felt embarrassed but quickly regained his composure: "Oh, that's a shame. Maybe next time then."

As he watched the boy’s light, energetic figure slowly vanish from sight, a wave of disappointment washed over him.

It hit him just how much he longed to be with this person—even just chatting or sharing a meal could bring him endless joy.

Mo Huan only regretted that he was about to graduate and would probably have few chances to come back. If only he could spend every day with Jian Ye on campus, how amazing that would be.

...

First row of the audience seats.

Yi Siyu was still physically seated there, but his mind was already elsewhere. The rest of the performances barely registered with him.

He had only ever seen Jian Ye practicing at home in training clothes—never dressed up in full costume and makeup, dancing like this.

That performance damn near stole his soul.

Every time he caught a glimpse of that pale waist peeking out, he wanted to throw his jacket over it, better yet, bundle him up tight so no one else could see—except him.

If he’d known Jian Ye was going to perform in *that* outfit, he would’ve done everything he could to make the boy change.

Who’s he dressing like that for anyway?

The thirsty crowd down below got quite the free show. Yi Siyu seethed inwardly.

He'd seen Jian Ye’s wild side through those bar records, the pitiful version of him on the street, the innocent one in the café—but today marked the first time he saw the kid’s seductive, hypnotic charm.

It was like opium, pulling you under into sin.

A/N

Front row, President Yi: He was grinding right at me—I'm dead!

Second row, Senior Mo: He was giving me those sweet vibes—so cute!

Third row, repressed Qiu: He… damn it! How the hell do I ask for his number?!

Back of the crowd, trashy Yuwu: Get him back, get him back! I *have* to win him back!