“Senior, you can’t just touch other people’s heads so casually.” Bian Li hesitated slightly as she got out of the car. After thinking for a moment, she said seriously, “You’ll become shorter.”
He Yunxing rested his hand casually on the steering wheel. “Why don’t I know about this perverse reasoning?”
Bian Li whispered, “It’s not your head I touched.”
“If you want to touch it back, I don’t mind,” He Yunxing said, smoothly unbuckling his seatbelt and pretending to get out of the car.
Bian Li had one foot out of the car already. Hearing the movement, she asked in confusion, “What, do you want to personally take me to the exam room?”
He Yunxing glanced at her indifferently. “On the way.”
Bian Li stepped out of the car and closed the door behind her, only to see He Yunxing appear from the opposite side of the car.
“The teaching building is full of exam rooms, and that’s ‘on the way’?” Bian Li asked, smiling skeptically.
He Yunxing was unfazed and replied slowly, “Then it’s not on the way.”
Bian Li: “…”
He walked ahead, car keys in hand, heading toward the elevator. After a few steps, he noticed the absence of sound behind him. Pausing, he turned slightly to look back. “Why aren’t you catching up?”
Bian Li jogged over, smiling. “No way, such thoughtful service—are you really taking me that far?”
She wondered to herself just how much her father had bribed him.
When the elevator stopped on the third floor, He Yunxing adjusted his mask and reminded her, “This is your floor. I’ll wait for you after the exam; let’s leave together.”
His former tutor had asked him to come over for something. Either way, he would finish earlier than her.
Hearing this, Bian Li turned her head to look at him.
Half his face was concealed by the mask, leaving only a pair of deep, mesmerizing eyes visible—like whirlpools in an unfathomable sea. His narrow, slightly upturned eyes, framed by sharply defined brows, exuded an air of arrogance and intensity.
She looked away, her emotions carefully hidden, and nodded slightly. Since they lived across the street from each other, and her electric scooter was still in the trunk of his car, it would be wasteful not to take advantage of the situation.
—
The exam went smoothly. It was no surprise that He Yunxing, who had once dominated Shengming Film Academy, lived up to his reputation. The questions he tutored her on were quick, precise, and ruthless in their logic.
When the exam ended, cries of anguish echoed outside the room.
Only Bian Li, with the privilege of his private tutoring, emerged unscathed. Her eyebrows curved in a delighted smile.
Not only could she impress her fans, but she might also earn the special artist scholarship of 1,000 yuan.
Just as she exited the exam room and restarted her phone, a flurry of notifications popped up. Before she could sift through the red dots, her phone rang.
Fumbling slightly, she swiped to answer, “Hello?”
“You’re done with your exam, right? Come to the gate now; I’ll pick you up.”
The caller’s voice was steady but urgent, tinged with a trace of impatience.
“Big Bear? Why is it you? Did something happen?”
“The company needs extra shots for your MV, and everyone’s waiting for you. I was worried about being late, so I came to get you directly,” Da Xiong explained, his tone anxious.
“Huh?” Bian Li blinked, momentarily dazed. Her thoughts inexplicably drifted to He Yunxing, delaying her reaction.
“What are you hesitating for? Hurry up! The nanny van is under the second sycamore tree by the school gate. Don’t mix it up.”
“Oh, okay, I’m coming.”
Before hopping into Da Xiong’s car, Bian Li sent a message to He Yunxing, telling him not to wait.
After briefly explaining her reason, she attached a self-deprecating meme—her doing the splits on a variety show, captioned: Life isn’t easy; I can only perform for money.
—
After reshooting the MV, the team prepared for their next big event. The new album’s release quickly dominated major music charts.
Not only did seniors at Yiqian Entertainment lend their support through official promotions, but Gemini’s fans also rallied with overwhelming enthusiasm.
The new album’s success reflected in offline sales and streaming platforms alike, with over a million units sold. It marked Gemini as a top-tier girl group, surpassing idol boy bands to claim the number one spot on real-time rankings.
With the group’s popularity soaring, the girls’ schedules became relentless. In just one month, their days and nights blurred as they juggled performances, radio interviews, and promotional activities.
Even sleep became a luxury.
Backstage, Da Xiong watched the three young women collapse onto a sofa between events. His heart ached for them, but he knew the harsh reality of the industry. Fame was fleeting without constant effort.
“You don’t have a performance today,” he coaxed gently,“But there are big names here. You still have to show your best.”
They were taping a revamped music program—a new format that combined live broadcasts with primetime TV exposure. To create buzz, the first episode featured rookie performances judged by industry veterans and fans alike.
“I know, I know. It’s just appreciating dances, right? Easy!” Bian Li perked up despite her fatigue, her energy seemingly endless.
Da Xiong chuckled. “Your fan club sent loads of gifts and support this time. The company didn’t turn them down. Don’t forget to take a photo and thank them on Weibo later.”
Ruan Xiangyi, lounging nearby, responded without looking up, “Got it.”
Scrolling through her phone, Bian Li suddenly looked up at Da Xiong with wide eyes. “The fan club sent cute bento boxes. Can I eat them?”
“Of course,” Da Xiong laughed. “You can indulge a little today.”
Ying Xuelai coughed. “Didn’t you already eat earlier?”
Bian Li grinned. “Hehe, well, Big Bear gave his approval now.”
Da Xiong sighed helplessly. “Approval? You always act on your own. I’m just too lazy to deal with you. I’ll report this to the boss—just wait and see.”
Bian Li’s smile widened. “That’s so embarrassing. Mr. Shen just handed out bonuses to us excellent scholars for our good grades. The company paid directly, so I’m in such a good mood!”
After a few rounds of playful banter, Bian Li suddenly felt re-energized.
The show recording was about to begin, but with some free time on her hands, she pulled Ruan Xiangyi along to take photos.
Ying Xuelai waved them off, clearly uninterested in joining. “You two go ahead. I’m not walking around.”
Bian Li thought about it for a moment but didn’t insist.
The fan club had sent them a beautiful flower basket, now positioned at the corridor intersection. Since it was a gift from her fans, Bian Li felt it was only right to take a photo with it as a gesture of appreciation.
The corridor was bustling earlier, but as the show drew nearer, fewer people were passing through.
Seizing the moment, Bian Li picked up the flower basket and posed for several pictures. Each time, she leaned over to Ruan Xiangyi’s phone screen, scrutinizing the shots.
Just as she was about to take another photo, a sudden commotion arose at the end of the corridor. A group of boys emerged from the corner, their chatter growing louder as they neared. Some stopped a short distance away, unwilling to move on.
Bian Li paused, her gaze drifting toward them. That’s when her eyes met his.
The boy standing across from her had delicate features and soft, doe-like eyes. He looked youthful and pure, his smile radiating warmth.
“Bian Li, do you want a soda?” he asked, extending a hand. In his palm was a bottle of pink-and-white soda.
Caught off guard, Bian Li still managed to respond politely. “Thank you, You Shu, but I don’t drink soda.”
You Shu is the youngest member of another boy group. They appeared on a variety show together once, enough to establish a casual acquaintanceship.
Unbothered by her refusal, You Shu pressed the soda into her hands. “Take it. Drink it when you feel like it.”
He smiled again, his expression bright and unwavering, before turning to leave with his group amidst their teasing remarks.
Bian Li stared at the soda in her hands, momentarily stunned. Beside her, Ruan Xiangyi leaned in with a mischievous smirk.
“Eh… Looks like spring has arrived for Bian Fei Fei.”
“What nonsense are you talking about?” Bian Li swung her hand playfully, aiming to swat her friend. Before her hand could connect, a cold voice cut through the air.
“Excuse me.”
Startled, Bian Li instinctively stepped back and raised her gaze.
Standing before her was a familiar figure, tall and imposing, with eyes like deep, frozen ponds.
This time, his sharp, upward-tilting eyebrows carried a hint of coldness, and his expression was unreadable. There was an emotion—fleeting and difficult to grasp—buried in his gaze, gone almost as quickly as it appeared.
“Forward…” Bian Li had barely uttered a word when she saw him—He Yunxing—walking straight ahead without even sparing her a glance. The wind seemed to follow his stride as he passed by, not stopping for a moment.
Bian Li’s gaze lingered on his tall figure as it disappeared into the distance. The word “generation” that had been on the tip of her tongue dissipated naturally.
Now she was truly confused.
After such an abrupt encounter, Bian Li and Ruan Xiangyi stood frozen, looking at each other in silent bewilderment.
Bian Li shrugged, as if to say she was innocent in all this.
They weren’t sure how long they’d been standing there when Da Xiong’s booming voice called out from the other end of the corridor. “What are you two doing standing around? I couldn’t find you earlier! Come here quickly, the show’s about to start!”
Snapping out of their daze, Bian Li and Ruan Xiangyi hurried over.
“Xuelai’s already gone in. Once you’re in the recording studio, find her. What are you doing loitering around? The other groups are already seated!”
“I know, I know. Can you stop yelling so loudly? My ears are going to burst,” Bian Li grumbled.
Her complaint wasn’t unwarranted. The closer they got to the recording area, the louder the music and sound effects grew. Coupled with Da Xiong’s naturally loud voice, it felt like an auditory overload.
“Hurry up and get in! Pay attention during the recording, got it? Let’s go!” Da Xiong held the studio curtain aside, ushering them in while giving his final instructions.
Bian Li nodded obediently, pulling Ruan Xiangyi along as they bent over and slipped inside.
Inside the studio, the director’s team was busy making last-minute adjustments, their focus entirely on the equipment. The stage lights were dim, casting faint shadows everywhere, and the seating area below the stage was cloaked in darkness. Despite the quiet, the barely suppressed excitement of the fans created a buzzing undercurrent.
Unable to pinpoint Ying Xuelai’s exact location, Bian Li and Ruan Xiangyi crouched low and crept toward the first row of artist seats, inching their way forward.
Just as they were halfway through, a leg suddenly stretched out, deliberately blocking their path.
Bian Li stopped abruptly, dumbfounded, her head turning slightly to glance upward.
In the dim light, half of He Yunxing’s face was obscured in shadow, while a faint streak of light above his head illuminated the other half. His expression was unreadable, a mix of casual indifference and restrained sharpness.
He sat there lazily, one leg bent and stretched just enough to block her path.
A low, indifferent voice drifted down from above her, tinged with a subtle chill. “You don’t remember me after just one month?”
