Eavesdropping

Yu Mao crouched in a corner, almost swallowed by the crowd, resting her chin in her hands as she peered through the gaps for Nan Changgeng’s figure.

There really wasn’t a single Class C contestant who wanted to team up with her. But that wasn’t because she was unpopular; it was because of her skill. Everyone knew why she had ended up in Class C, and in terms of vocal ability, she was actually good enough for Class A.

Anyone who still wanted to stay on this show and had even a little common sense wouldn’t choose a teammate whose strength far exceeded their own. It wouldn’t help their score at all; it would only make the difference look brutal.

The remaining Class C and D contestants still couldn’t make up an even number, so Yu Mao ended up alone after all.

She casually picked a slow song and submitted it.

More than that, she had something she cared about even more.

Noticing that Nan Changgeng seemed to have made up her mind, Yu Mao finished submitting her song and, once she had a moment to spare, threaded through the crowd to stand behind her. In a low voice, she asked,

“Hello, do you need me to do anything for you?”

She had spoken so suddenly that Nan Changgeng’s shoulders jerked in surprise. Turning around, she waved a little. “No, no. There’s nothing I need you to do.”

She didn’t really understand why Yu Mao was so insistent on helping her. But she truly didn’t need anything.

“Okay.” Yu Mao looked a little disappointed. “If you do need anything, make sure you tell me as soon as possible.”

“...Okay.” Nan Changgeng blinked in confusion, but still agreed.

Then Yu Mao turned and left again.

To anyone watching, the whole exchange seemed rather inexplicable.

She didn’t realize that every one of her movements had been seen by Yirui An, who had been paying attention to her the entire time.

And Yirui An, who had lost one kind of filter toward Yu Mao but gained another, didn’t think Yu Mao was acting strange at all; instead, she thought she was pitiable.

A child who had suffered so much from a young age that she no longer fit in with others, yet kept trying to get closer to the person she cared about, only to be pushed away again and again...

How tragic was that!

She considered herself a righteous and kind girl, and at that moment she made up her mind to help Yu Mao chase her idol. Even if she couldn’t make Nan Changgeng accept her, at the very least she had to let Yu Mao know why Nan Changgeng hadn’t chosen her in the first place.

Full of fighting spirit, Yirui An stared fixedly at Nan Changgeng for a while, planning to slip over and ask her once the crowd dispersed.

She had to ask it herself first; if the answer was too hurtful, she’d act as the go-between and smooth things over before telling Yu Mao.

Xu Yang happened to pass by at that moment. Noticing her solemn, determined expression, as if she were about to go enlist, she curled her lips in disgust and muttered under her breath,

“That kid looks like her brain doesn’t work too well.”

Yirui An glared at her instantly. “Get lost. Go play somewhere else. Kids should keep out of adults’ business.”

“Tch, who are you pretending to be? You’re only a month younger than me, you brat.” Xu Yang shoved her hands in her pockets, looking carefree. She was just about to saunter off when Yirui An slapped her hard on the back.

“Ow!”

“Coward. Scared of ghosts.”

Yirui An’s counterattack was clearly much more effective; a single bland remark was enough to make someone crack.

After getting hit and suffering such a huge humiliation, Xu Yang turned back in outrage. “If it were you running into a ghost, that doesn’t mean you’d do any better than me!”

“Oh? That’s not necessarily true. I’m not afraid of ghosts.”

With her appetite for the bizarre, she’d probably only realize she was scared once the ghost had a knife at her throat.

Xu Yang took a deep breath. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Yu Mao’s figure, and her heart jolted again; she felt miserable and stifled.

“I’m too lazy to argue with you.” She snorted and turned away in a hurry. She wanted nothing more than to put herself two hundred meters away from Yu Mao immediately and make her brain forget this person existed.

Yirui An was a little surprised she had actually held back; she had already prepared herself for a thrilling chase.

But if there was no fight, there was no fight. She kept waiting for Nan Changgeng.

Nan Changgeng’s song selection was fairly quick, but there were too many people crowding around her, asking for her opinion on which songs to choose. That dragged things out for quite a while before it finally ended.

When she saw that the others were about to leave, Yirui An immediately stepped forward and said she had something she wanted to discuss with her privately.

The two of them usually had no interaction, so Nan Changgeng was a little surprised by the sudden approach, but she nodded. “Then let’s go to my dorm.”

They went upstairs. Yu Mao watched their backs as they walked side by side, tilting her head in confusion.

After a pause, she followed at a distance, trailing behind as they went. She watched Nan Changgeng lead Yirui An into the dorm.

Yu Mao’s pace slowed. She walked to a spot closer to the door and leaned against the wall.

She had no concept of privacy in her mind right now.

Besides, they hadn’t even closed the door.

Inside the dorm, Lin Baiyu and Chen Xia were already there. They had come back early and were currently curled up on their beds with little notebooks, discussing ideas for arranging the song.

After Nan Changgeng saw them, she turned back and asked Yirui An, “What did you want to talk to me about? Do you mind saying it here?”

Yirui An shook her head. “I don’t mind, but I’m afraid you might.”

“?” Nan Changgeng looked even more puzzled. She walked over to the desk, dragged out two chairs, and said, “Sit. I don’t really have anything to mind.”

“Then I’ll ask directly.” Yirui An didn’t go over to sit down; she stood where she was, two meters away.

She knew her question was rude, and standing that close didn’t feel appropriate either; there was always the risk of getting hit...

Although Nan Changgeng didn’t seem like a rough person, she had a fierce face, with features very much like those tough types who could wrestle a bear in the snow.

And Yirui An was just a little girl who liked sunbathing. She was scared.

With that thought in mind, she asked with righteous seriousness,

“I want to know: during the small assessment team selection, why didn’t you choose Yu Mao?”

As soon as those words came out, everyone in the room, including Yu Mao eavesdropping outside the door, froze.

Lin Baiyu and Chen Xia both turned to look at Yirui An, then at Nan Changgeng. To be honest, they were curious about this question too.

Yu Mao had clearly said she was Nan Changgeng’s fan, so even just to save face in front of the cameras, Nan Changgeng should have picked her.

To ignore her in a situation like this, on a reality show where every word and action would be magnified, was basically a very obvious way of showing dislike.

And after the initial shock, Nan Changgeng fell silent.

Yu Mao, outside the door, knitted her brows tightly. Sensing Nan Changgeng’s difficulty from that silence, she very much wanted to rush in and drag Yirui An out, sealing her mouth shut.

But she didn’t want to expose the fact that she had been eavesdropping, and she also didn’t want people to think she had sent Yirui An over to ask the question.

She decided to wait three more seconds. If Nan Changgeng clearly didn’t want to answer, then no matter what, she would go in and drag the girl away.

But before those three seconds were up, Nan Changgeng spoke.

“This... it’s a bit complicated.”

She glanced at the camera, as if she could see through that tiny round lens to the countless fans watching from behind it.

She had been through enough that even if this one question stirred up a storm of memories and emotions inside her, she could still keep her expression calm.

But the others could still sense the complexity in that pause.

“There are a lot of psychological factors behind it, but they’re all my own reasons; they have nothing to do with Yu Mao.”

For the first time, Nan Changgeng had a chance to bring this matter up head-on. By clearly stating to the camera that it wasn’t Yu Mao’s fault, she could also make up for a little of her own guilt.

“So what was the reason?” Yirui An realized that although Nan Changgeng’s attitude was somewhat resistant, it wasn’t forceful, and she decided to keep asking until she got the full answer.

Nan Changgeng interlaced her fingers, unconsciously pressing her knuckles until they cracked.

She paused, drew a long breath, and forced her voice to remain steady.

“It has to do with what I’ve experienced over the years. I... said during the initial stage that once I was ready, maybe I’d be able to talk about those things.

“I never had the courage before, and there wasn’t any opportunity. Now, though, it’s just right for me to force myself to take this step.”

A festering wound that never sees the light will only keep growing in the damp dark. When she could finally speak of the past with ease, perhaps that would mean she had truly let it go. She also owed an explanation to the people who had always supported and waited for her.

The atmosphere sank even heavier, and the others’ expressions changed as they all looked at her intently.

“Is it related to your former manager, Wen Yi?” Lin Baiyu asked softly.

Before joining the show, she had looked up a lot of information on Nan Changgeng, even infiltrating the fan circles. She knew that Wen Yi had tricked her into signing a guarantee contract, and because Wen Yi had owed money from fraud before getting arrested, those debts had to be repaid by Nan Changgeng instead.

That had even trended online; plenty of people knew about it.

The amount wasn’t small, but it wasn’t enormous either. At first, she had been very surprised that a singer who had once been so famous couldn’t even come up with that money and had to come on a show to work off the debt.

It was only after she dug deeper into the fandom that she heard Nan Changgeng had donated most of what she earned to charity, leaving only enough for her own daily living expenses.

In fact, if there was evidence proving that the guarantee contract had been signed under deception, then it could have been voided through a lawsuit. But whether because evidence was hard to find or for some other reason, she hadn’t chosen to do that.

At the familiar name, Nan Changgeng’s expression twitched in faint surprise. “Her... yeah.” After a long pause, only a sigh remained.

“That counts as related, but also not related, I suppose.” Her gaze turned complicated as she glanced at the camera once more, then lowered her eyelids to stare at the pattern on her pants. In a very concise voice, she revealed the truth:

“Fans who know me should know that my father had some Northern Frontier noble blood in him. Eight years ago, he demanded that I marry the son of a Northern Frontier noble family. I didn’t agree and asked him whether sending me to study the cello and using resources to shape me into someone outstanding was only so he could marry me off. He said yes.”

She lifted her eyes. Her gray-blue gaze was as still as dead water, her voice equally calm.

“I used to think he forced me to practice so strictly because he loved me and had high hopes for me. In the end, he was only raising me as a tool. He even deliberately told me while my career was at its peak, because he thought that was when I was worthy of that man.”

Actually, when she was a child, she had deeply resented her father’s harshness and never believed he loved her. It was her mother, over and over again, who told her when her father scolded her to tears that he only treated her that way because he loved her and had high expectations for her.

Her mother told her she had to perform well and study hard to make her father happy. Later, after her father really did become much kinder to her once she achieved some success, she gradually came to believe it...

Thinking back on the past, she curled one corner of her lips. “The blow was really a bit too much. After I found out, I couldn’t play the cello anymore; my hand would shake whenever I picked up the bow.”

The deception she had suffered had been like a fly wrapped in a sugar shell; she had swallowed it without realizing. Only when she thought about it again did a wave of nauseating disgust surge up in her chest.

The others listened in stunned silence. Yirui An even forgot her original purpose and hurriedly asked,

“And then? Did you agree?”

“Of course not. I ran away and never went back.” Nan Changgeng lowered her head and rubbed her nail with the pad of her thumb, strands of hair slipping forward to cover part of her expression.

“After that, my career was interrupted too. I didn’t want to face crowds anymore, so I settled in a remote little town and wrote some songs that matched my state of mind back then. Mm... the ones everyone says have a horror vibe.”

What she didn’t say was that, although she couldn’t play the cello, she hadn’t actually fallen apart right away at the time. She had only planned to stay away from home and continue throwing herself into her career.

What truly shattered her was her mother’s death.