novelraw Chapter 57
Chapter 57
Chapter 57
By late afternoon the main stage had finally wrapped up, and Bai Yi at last had a moment to breathe.
Besides her on-stage set she'd been booked for a string of smaller jobs—quick-fire videos for the company, a walk-through for a clothing sponsor—so when the spinning top of her schedule finally slowed, hours had passed since the lunchtime performance.
The Golden Lion Group's show-runner tracked her down then.
With Auntie Zuo in a foul mood and already gone home, Jiang Xiong accompanied Bai Yi to handle whatever came next.
"I'm Milos, head of Golden Lion's on-site productions. Please, have a seat."
A broad-shouldered blond man—lion pin glinting on his lapel—led them into a small office and took the chair at the head of the table.
Bai Yi sat opposite him, hands clasped tight in her lap; Jiang Xiong pulled out the chair beside her.
Milos poured coffee for both, then got straight to the point.
"Let's talk about the fact that Miss Bai Yi did not follow the rehearsed set list at noon."
Bai Yi wet her lips and spoke first, voice low.
"I changed it on my own. I'll take full responsibility."
Milos merely slid a cup toward her and another toward Jiang Xiong.
"Please, enjoy."
Jiang Xiong rarely touched Bai Yi's day-to-day career; that was Auntie Zuo and the agent's territory.
He stayed silent and glanced at the girl instead.
Once the coffee was delivered, Milos continued.
"Earlier—before the show even ended—a young man came to me and claimed the same thing.
Said he was your fan, that he'd diverted the media crew without your consent. Is that true?"
Bai Yi's heart stuttered.
She knew at once he meant Yan Huan and waved her hands frantically.
"No, that's not how—"
Milos lifted a palm, cutting her off.
"Easy, Miss Bai Yi. Your fan was calmer than you are right now."
He opened a drawer and drew out a slim contract.
Flipping through, he read aloud.
"Per clause four, breach occurs only if the artist is absent, causes a serious accident, or damages the expo's or Golden Lion's reputation."
He looked up.
"Frankly, neither you nor your fan's actions fit that definition.
Your set ran seven and a half minutes—inside the limit.
And frankly, the performance blew our revenue projections out of the water."
He unlocked his phone and slid it across.
Onscreen was Linmen's top short-video platform.
Trending three and four: "Bai Yi's Stunning Expo Show" and "Linmen Golden Lion Game Expo."
He cycled through a few more apps; every list had her name somewhere near the top.
"See? Even if this went to court, the chance of a breach ruling is slim.
Right now the buzz is gold; we're not about to trigger headlines like 'Golden Lion Sues Idol' or 'Expo Lawsuit Drama.'"
Bai Yi's mouth opened, then closed.
She stared at Milos's cool blue eyes.
"So—no penalty?"
"None. Your fan understood that better than you did.
He seems to believe in you more than you believe in yourself."
Her pupils shrank.
She remembered handing Yan Huan the new track.
When the intro hit, he'd glanced up and asked,
"Bai Yi, how long were the planned fan-interactions in rehearsal?"
He'd decided then and there, worked out the timing so the full song would still fit.
He'd trusted her music—while she'd doubted everything.
Thump.
Thump.
She pressed a hand to her chest, speechless.
Milos rubbed his temples and leaned back.
"Don't get cocky. As an industry veteran, here's some free advice:
Not every impulse ends this well. If that boy's gamble had been blind fan-boying, the fallout would've been brutal.
Golden Lion tolerates zero surprises; that's why we rehearse everything ten times.
Even if the result is great and the law's on your side, your reputation for reliability takes a hit.
Other firms will think twice before booking you."
Bai Yi bowed her head.
"I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
"Apology accepted. The boy already gave one."
Milos folded his hands.
"Besides, we're not ogres. You chose the program—no one forced you.
If you want to sing next time, say so up front. Clearance isn't the issue.
Early communication saves everyone headaches."
A wry smile tugged at her lips.
It had always been her choice, only her mother had forbidden singing, so the original act was something safe.
Still, a boulder rolled off her heart.
Yan Huan had thought of everything.
She wanted to thank him in person.
She tightened her grip on her phone, lips brushing a silent thank-you, and nodded once more.
Milos waved them off.
"All right. Case closed. You've had a long day—go rest.
We'll work together again soon."
"Thank you so much!"
Bai Yi and Jiang Xiong rose.
As they reached the door Milos added,
"Oh, Miss Bai Yi."
"Yes?"
"Nothing major—just my two cents. You've real talent.
Talk it over with your family. Consider focusing on singing."
She blinked, then smiled—wide and genuine.
"I'll think about it seriously."
Milos merely gestured for them to leave.
Out in the corridor her measured steps quickened until she was practically skipping.
The moment they cleared Golden Lion's glass doors she broke into a full rabbit-hop run.
At the fountain emblazoned with the lion crest she spun twice, arms spread, letting the breeze whip her black hair across her face.
She opened her hands to the wind, tasting freedom for the first time in ages.
Jiang Xiong watched from a few paces back, then smiled and joined her.
"Looks like it went better than expected?"
Bai Yi turned, cheeks still flushed.
"I was terrified, Uncle Jiang. I really thought I'd owe a fortune, so—"
"So you walked in ready to shoulder all the blame."
"Yeah. Who knew Yan Huan would meet the manager before I even got there?"
He'd meant every word—take responsibility.
Beneath her make-up her skin felt fever-hot; she ducked her head, heart thudding louder the closer it got to her ear.
Thump.
Thump.
Jiang Xiong smiled and tapped Bai Yi's phone. "Shouldn't you message Yan Huan and thank him? After all, he went through all this trouble for his idol."
"I-Idol and stuff..." Bai Yi's cheeks burned even hotter, but her trembling fingers did fish out her phone and open Plane. "I wonder if he's still inside the venue."
"Does it matter? You're in the same school, same grade, and he's your student-council president."
"Huh? Uncle Jiang, you know Yan Huan?"
"Of course. Your mom talks about him all the time—when you're not around."
"...Oh."
At the mention of her mother, Bai Yi's expression dimmed. Jiang noticed and sighed inwardly. In her youth, Zuo Jiangqin had been stunning, but life's cruel turns had left her insecure, and she'd poured every hope into Bai Yi. That pressure, sharpened by her personality, became a burden that tormented the girl.
With a wry smile, Jiang said, "It's all right. I told you—I'm moving back to Linmen for work. And that Golden Lion exec just said you have real talent. If you love singing, grab the chance. Facts speak louder than fears; we'll convince your mom together."
Bai Yi looked up and gave a small nod. "Okay, Uncle Jiang."
She took a steadying breath, opened the chat with Yan Huan, and lifted a finger—
"Meow~"
The sun was sliding west. Outside the expo, on the sun-drenched avenue, the black cat on a boy's shoulder suddenly spoke.
"Yan Huan."
He tilted his head, scratching the cat's ears. "What is it, Meow-chan?"
Emerald eyes studied him. "Did you plan Bai Yi's performance from the start, meow?"
Yan Huan chuckled. "No plan at all—pure impulse."
Meow-chan's head tilted. "Impulse? You risked everything to rewrite her set list on the fly, meow? If it had flopped—"
"Yep."
Still smiling, Yan Huan walked on. "But ideas don't appear from nowhere. First, her mother's been smothering her wish to sing. Second, her songs are genuinely good; I figured the con crowd would love them. Third, the Modifier's signal around her is getting louder. Leave it unchecked and something bad will happen."
Meow-chan blinked. "With all that, what were the odds, meow?"
"Less than seventy percent."
"Sev—seventy?!"
Seeing the cat's shock, Yan Huan rubbed its chubby cheeks. "Old saying: do your best, leave the rest to fate. Bai Yi has the talent and the songs that can move people—that's what mattered. The remaining thirty percent? I wasn't gambling on luck; I was betting she wouldn't waste the chance. As for me, I just needed to deal with the Modifier."
He had to seize this one-time opportunity—make a choice, take the risk, all to neutralize the Modifier.
But was that the only reason?
An image flashed unbidden: the radiant girl on stage, pointing straight at him, gaze cutting through everything—her mother, the roaring crowd, looming responsibilities, the Modifier itself—until only he remained in her sight.
He couldn't name the feeling. One word sufficed:
Not bad.
With that thought, he turned and walked toward the rendezvous the student-council group had set on Plane.
"President!!"
Yua Lina spotted the striking boy in the crowd and waved frantically. Behind her, Sakuramiya Hitomi lowered her parasol and looked over. Ashley crouched nearby, wearing a wicked grin.
Yan Huan approached, scanned the group, and frowned. "Where's Hashimoto?"
"Well... President, Hashimoto's... over there."
Following Yua's resigned finger, he spotted a lone otaku sitting on the edge of the steps, staring at the sky. Ashley's grin was aimed the same way.
Yan Huan raised an eyebrow, then walked over alone. "Hashimoto."
Hashimoto flinched but kept gazing upward. After a long silence he whispered, "President... what's the meaning of life?"
A single tear slid down his cheek and hung from his chin like a crystal bead.
"......"
Yan Huan opened his mouth, then flicked the boy's forehead. "Speak human."
The flick jolted Hashimoto back to earth. His tears only multiplied as he looked up, sobbing, "President... I—I got scolded by Shijo-sensei."
"Huh?"
While Yan looked puzzled, Hashimoto hugged his knees and recounted the whole sorry tale. Yua folded her arms, mouth agape in silent judgment. Ashley pinched her nose as if warding off a smell. Only Sakuramiya frowned.
"No matter what, Hashimoto spent a fortune on that autograph session. Saying that to a devoted fan is too harsh."
Yan Huan tugged the rolled poster from Hashimoto's reluctant grasp and examined Shijo Ai's signature. The art wasn't obscene—just risqué, standard for an R-18 game. Hashimoto's request had been perfectly reasonable. Likely, the early "inner-circle" title was Shijo's personal embarrassment, and Hashimoto's fandom had caught the backlash.
He glanced at the poster, then at the sniffling boy. "Come on, Hashimoto. Shijo Ai's still at her booth; let's talk to her."
Hashimoto's eyes widened behind his lenses, then curved into a wry smile. He wiped his tears and whispered, "Forget it, President... give the poster back."
Yua crouched before him and waved a hand in front of his face. "Hashimoto, after what she said you still like her?"
He froze, then looked away with a helpless laugh. "I don't know either. I should've understood long ago. To Shijo-sensei it's just a job—especially that early inner-circle work. Like how Charcoal-sensei draws Plunder manga only for the paycheck, not out of love. I was the fool who fused the character, the voice actress, and the creator into one fantasy. I've only ever liked the Shijo-sensei I imagined."
His fingers, clenched as if to tear the poster, slowly relaxed. Carefully, almost reverently, he slipped the poster back into his bag and zipped it shut.
Hashimoto finally looked up at Yan Huan again and said, "Losing your mind just because your idol isn't what you imagined—even I, as a hardcore otaku, wouldn't go that far, President."
"..."
For some reason, Yan Huan couldn't help raising an eyebrow at Hashimoto's declaration.
Behind him, Yua Lina and Ashley both flushed scarlet, clapping hands over their mouths to stifle their laughter.
"Pfft!"
Sakuramiya Hitomi pressed her palm to her forehead and shook her head.
The reason was obvious.
While Hashimoto was delivering his cool speech, snot and tears had long since flooded his entire face. His tear-streaked expression stood in complete contrast to the relief in his words.
The next second, he completely broke down, wailing as he lunged toward Yan Huan with open arms.
"Waaah! I really can't handle this!! Four-strip Sensei scolded me!! She called me a pervert, President!!"
"Yikes! Everyone fall back!! It's the dreaded otaku!"
Yan Huan scrambled backward. Just as he was about to say something, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
"Ding-ding-ding~"
He stopped tussling with Hashimoto and glanced down at his screen. Beside him, Ashley subdued the utterly defenseless Hashimoto with a single karate chop, leaving him hugging his schoolbag on the ground while shouting incoherently.
On Yan Huan's Plane app, a message had arrived from a girl.
"Thank you, Yan Huan."
No need to guess—the sender was Bai Yi.
Yan Huan smiled faintly and sent back a sticker of a cat covering its mouth in a giggle.
"No need to thank me."
Outside the Golden Lion Game Expo, in the back seat of a car, Bai Yi smiled at the cat sticker on her phone.
He really loves using stickers, doesn't he?
She hesitated for a moment, then quietly saved every cat sticker Yan Huan had ever sent.
The next instant, her screen showed "typing..." as Yan Huan sent another message.
"It's an honor to be your Fan A."
Reading this, Bai Yi's lips parted slightly. The impulsive words she'd blurted on stage in front of everyone suddenly replayed in her mind.
Her small face, even under stage makeup, flushed a vivid pink. Fumbling with her phone, she tapped at the keyboard but couldn't think how to reply.
In the driver's seat, Jiang Xiong glanced in the rearview mirror at the flustered girl clutching her phone, and the corner of his mouth lifted.
"That from Yan Huan?"
"No! I mean... sort of..."
"What did he say?"
"Um... that..."
Bai Yi's face burned hotter. She steadied her phone, trying to compose an answer.
But then her phone buzzed again.
Another message from Yan Huan.
She bolted upright, phone in hand, and stared at the screen. The lovesick expression slowly froze, then her lips pressed into a thin line.
Jiang Xiong, puzzled, gave an inquisitive hum.
Bai Yi buried her face in her arms, locking her phone and curling up in her seat.
In a voice barely louder than a mosquito, she whispered, "He said my placement-test scores were terrible and that I should join the study group at school next week. He forgot to tell me earlier."
Jiang Xiong blinked, then burst out laughing.
"Hahahahaha!"
Bai Yi, red-faced, flopped onto the seat and covered her ears against his teasing.
Outside the window, the Golden Lion Game Expo was winding down beneath the shifting gold-to-crimson light of late afternoon.
The day had turned into a reunion, into the warm atmosphere of the student council, into the rapid heartbeat of a girl in the back seat.
Through strands of black hair, blushing Bai Yi pulled out her phone again and stared at the unanswered chat.
Her fingers moved, sending another cat sticker while she opened Yan Huan's profile.
She typed a single note just for him: "Fan A."
Only then did she smile again, head tilted as she gazed at their chat, lost in thought.
And then, softly, she began humming the outro of that new song.