Chapter 39: Just Really Pissed Off

If Fang Zhi was dead set on performing this act, then she ought to do it with Chen Nian. What business was it of anyone else’s?

With Fang Zhi right under her nose, Chen Nian could keep a close eye on her and nip any problems in the bud. But if Fang Zhi went off with others—and not just one or two—what if they led her astray?

In any case, Chen Nian had plenty of reasons, a whole laundry list of them, to stick by Fang Zhi’s side.

She stared at Fang Zhi with utter conviction, her eyes round as saucers. Fang Zhi tugged at her arm. “You’re pretty. You’re the prettiest. But what good does that do?”

Chen Nian shot back, “If I’m pretty… then you have to pick me.”

Fang Zhi fell silent.

“I’ve told you I’d think about it,” Chen Nian went on, “but you couldn’t even wait for me to decide before running off to others. That’s going too far…”

The sheer audacity of turning the tables like that was masterful. Fang Zhi let out a long breath and shook off her hand. “If you don’t like it, then forget it. You can’t do a good job at something you don’t enjoy.”

“Whoa…” Chen Nian’s irritation boiled over. “Where did I say I didn’t like it? How could I possibly not do it better than anyone else? You think Du Tiantian gets what you mean by that ‘comfortable and free’ state?”

Fang Zhi kept walking.

Chen Nian chased after her. “I already said I’d do it. So what are you off to now?”

Fang Zhi replied, “I also said it wouldn’t just be one person.”

“Whoa, no way!” Chen Nian grabbed her. “Last night you said the two of us would be enough. No, no, no…”

Lin Tianyi emerged from the classroom just then, spotting the two of them tussling. “What’s no good? Fang Zhi, if Chen Nian doesn’t want to perform with you, no problem. You and I can do it together…”

Chen Nian charged over and smacked Lin Tianyi’s broad back, grinding her teeth as she hissed under her breath, “What did I just tell you…?”

Lin Tianyi shut his mouth, but that was the only thing that shut. His eyes, his nose, his whole face, and even his body language screamed injustice.

He ignored Chen Nian with those grievances and lobbed them straight at Fang Zhi. She pressed her lips together. Lin Tianyi mimed making a phone call.

The message was clear: We talked about this on the phone yesterday. You can’t back out now.

Fang Zhi frowned, then finally said, “Fine. It’s settled then. The three of us…”

Chen Nian protested, “Wait, the script is clearly for two people…”

Fang Zhi turned to Lin Tianyi. “Would you be willing to play a tree?”

Lin Tianyi nodded vigorously. “Yes! Absolutely!”

Chen Nian laughed in exasperation and ruffled his round head. “Look at you, no backbone at all…”

“Heh heh heh.” Lin Tianyi smirked smugly. “Fang Zhi invited me personally.”

And with that, the matter was decided. Next came Fang Zhi’s work as the lead actress, lead singer, and director: crafting the script, designing the stage, shaping the characters. Then the three of them would rehearse after school.

Fang Zhi took it all deadly seriously. To Chen Nian, some of those ideas seemed downright childish—she could already picture the awkward moments on stage.

Yet it all shone so brightly. Fang Zhi glowed as she talked about it, her childlike enthusiasm and imagination lit up the room, and their time together—doing anything at all—would leave an indelible mark on the tapestry of their lives.

By the time the rehearsal was polished, the gala had arrived.

It was set for Friday night, so the small auditorium was packed not just with students and teachers, but some parents too.

As student representative, Fang Zhi had to give an early speech, so she waited in the wings backstage.

Chen Nian sat in the audience, in the actors’ section—way off to the side—next to Lin Tianyi, who was already made up.

As the mic was tested onstage, he fidgeted. Once the cameras were set and everyone seated, he shook even harder.

“Ch-Ch-Chen… N-N-Nian…” Lin Tianyi turned his head toward her slowly. “A-A-Are you… sc-sc-scared…?”

Chen Nian said, “Not scared.”

Lin Tianyi pressed, “Th-Th-Then why… are you… f-f-frowning…?”

Chen Nian blinked. “…Am I?”

Lin Tianyi shakily pointed at her. She rubbed her brow.

Truth be told, she wasn’t scared at all. It was just a kids’ graduation gala. Nail it or flop, whatever—it was no big deal.

If she was tense about anything, it was only Fang Zhi.

She fretted that Fang Zhi might be scared, that her clothes might be disheveled backstage, that her throat might be sore. She worried Fang Zhi would forget her lines during the speech, or that the performance might bomb and leave her heartbroken…

In short, there were endless things about Fang Zhi to worry over.

“Y-You… d-don’t be… afraid…” Lin Tianyi suddenly clasped her hand. “W-We… got this…”

Chen Nian: “Mm.”

Lin Tianyi: “Am I… frowning?”

Chen Nian: “No.”

Lin Tianyi: “I don’t even dare… move… I’ve got this little red… dot…”

Chen Nian couldn’t hold it in any longer and suddenly burst out laughing.

Lin Tianyi did indeed have a little red dot. Auntie Lin hadn’t just powdered his face and drawn on eyebrows for him—she’d even dotted one right between his brows, the kind every kid’s performance outfit seemed to require.

It was round and plump, perfectly matching his chubby white cheeks and those big watery eyes. He looked just like one of those dolls from an old-style New Year painting, all exaggerated charm.

Lin Tianyi eyed her. “What’re you laughing at?”

“Nothing.” The more Chen Nian thought about it, the funnier it got. “They’re recording video today. When you’re grown up, this is gonna be one of those memories you never live down.”

Lin Tianyi: “You mean we’re definitely gonna nail it today! It’s gonna be epic!!!”

Chen Nian lost it completely. “Pfft hahahahaha—yeah, you can think that if you want…”

Her laughter visibly eased his tension.

He started poring over the program with her, speculating on whether they’d steal the show tonight. Every so often, he’d crane his neck to scan the crowd.

“Mom’s here!” he called to Chen Nian. “Auntie Liu’s here too!”

Chen Nian glanced back and spotted the two women sitting way in the back. She gave them a wave.

At least they’d snagged seats. It was the school’s first big gala like this, and they’d hyped it up properly. Kids and parents alike were curious, so the place was packed.

In a wave of eager anticipation, the evening finally kicked off.

The pint-sized host belted out the script with gusto, head bobbing, as the audience whooped and clapped.

First came the principal’s speech, then the director’s, followed by the outstanding teachers—almost twenty minutes of it before they got to the star student rep.

Everyone was there for the acts, and impatience was setting in. The chatter swelled.

Chen Nian shushed the kids around her—”Quiet, no talking”—but the rest of the crowd was out of her hands.

Fang Zhi took the stage. She stood tall and poised, ponytail pulled back without a strand out of place, in a crisp white dress her mom had picked out special.

Red Young Pioneer scarf, shiny red leather shoes, no makeup—yet her lips glowed red, her teeth gleamed white, her eyebrows arched in perfect, groomed symmetry.

But those eyes—they were mesmerizing. Under the spotlights, her lashes fluttered, her gaze steady and unyielding.

She stepped up to the mic stand without rushing. She sized up the height, made a quick adjustment, then looked up with a smile that came before her words.

Dimples sweet as candy. Chen Nian heard a ripple of awed gasps from behind her—a boy even let out a low whistle.

Fang Zhi smiled and launched in: “Respected school leaders and teachers, dear classmates, good evening. I’m Fang Zhi, a student in Grade 6 Class 1…”

Chen Nian felt starstruck.

A run-of-the-mill speech script, but in Fang Zhi’s voice, it came alive with something extra.

Fang Zhi under the flagpole had already turned heads; now, bathed in stage lights with the hall’s acoustics amplifying every word, she shone with an aura that was both regal and utterly captivating.

Fearing it was just her own bias, Chen Nian scanned the crowd midway through.

So many faces—spanning kids, parents, teachers—all riveted on her, every last one.

Pride on the teachers’ faces, envy on the parents’, awe and infatuation on the kids’. Some of the boys were flat-out lovestruck.

Chen Nian studied a few of those faces and knew it: Fang Zhi was etching herself into their hearts as their first crush, their pure, untouchable ideal.

And up there on stage, Fang Zhi was just twelve. Her days were nothing but schoolwork and carefree play. No training, no lessons in poise or performance.

A crushing wave of dread hit Chen Nian.

It was like being hurled into an endless sea, walls of water rising to swallow her whole.

Some people were born for the spotlight.

Not even fate could rewrite that.

Chen Nian slumped deeper into her seat, eyes dropping to her lap.

She couldn’t bear to look at Fang Zhi anymore. Her heart hammered like a drum, each thud a stab in her chest.

Lin Tianyi noticed and hunkered down beside her. “Chen Nian, you scared?”

She nodded, forcing the words past a tight throat. “Scared.”

He grabbed her hand again. “Don’t be! We’re in this together! Together, nothing can scare us!”

Chen Nian managed a smile, but it twisted her face.

When Fang Zhi wrapped up, the applause exploded.

As she bowed, it swelled even louder—the high point of the whole night.

The little host bounded back onstage and quipped smartly, “Don’t worry, we’ve got more outstanding student reps coming right up—

Whistles erupted once more.

Fang Zhi stepped down from the stage and made a beeline for Chen Nian’s side.

Her arrival drew glances from some in the crowd, but Fang Zhi stared straight ahead, her gaze locked on Lin Tianyi’s hand clasped around Chen Nian’s.

Circling behind Chen Nian, Fang Zhi pried that hand free and rubbed it vigorously a couple of times. Only then did she ask, “Where are you feeling unwell?”

“Ah, I’m fine.” Staring at Fang Zhi now standing before her, Chen Nian felt as if she’d stepped into another world.

Lin Tianyi cut in. “She was just too nervous…”

Fang Zhi gave Chen Nian’s hand another couple of rubs. “Don’t be scared. Everything will be okay. We’ll run through it twice more backstage later.”

“Mm.” Chen Nian nodded.

From then on, Chen Nian did her best to distract herself, focusing intently as she rehearsed with Fang Zhi—nailing her positions before heading onstage.

Without the audience right in front of her this time, that suffocating terror eased considerably.

Fang Zhi stayed right by her side, the same warm, sweet-smiling Fang Zhi as ever, her eyes brimming with pure, fervent light.

She sang a song that was innocence itself, pure and sweet. Chen Nian played the person in the lyrics who joined her hand in hand—one step, two steps, three steps, four steps, gazing up at the sky. Lin Tianyi was the tree on their outing, the flowers blooming on the ground, the stars they lay back to watch.

Fang Zhi’s voice was so captivating, and Lin Tianyi’s props so plentiful, that their performance came off brilliantly. Fang Zhi propelled the gala to another peak.

When it ended, the three of them returned to their seats below the stage amid praise pouring in from every direction.

Lin Tianyi was beside himself with excitement. When Auntie Lin stooped down to check on her son, he suddenly burst into tears of overwhelming joy, snot and all.

Chen Nian sat quietly. Fang Zhi sat quietly too.

But their hands remained clasped tight, neither willing to let go.

The gala wrapped up on a high note. Liu Chunhua made a point of asking the cameraman where they could view the footage later.

“We’ll burn it onto DVDs!” she told Lin Huiling excitedly. “That way, anyone who visits can watch it.”

Lin Huiling replied, “I’ll put a TV in the shop—nice and high up, playing on a loop.”

Lin Tianyi flushed with embarrassment. “Mom!”

Liu Chunhua beamed. “Love that idea. I’ll get one too…”

The two women chatted on without end. Even at the crossroads where they were supposed to part ways, they lingered, talking for ages before finally going their separate ways.

Liu Chunhua flagged down a cab, and the three—mother and daughters—piled into the back seat. She tugged playfully at the fringe on Chen Nian’s forehead. “Tired, huh? You’re all wilted and quiet—not a word out of you.”

Chen Nian ducked her head, hunching her shoulders a little. “Mm. Exhausted.”

Fang Zhi scooted closer, offering her shoulder right by Chen Nian’s head. “Then get some rest.”

Chen Nian truly had no words left. She leaned against Fang Zhi’s shoulder and shut her eyes.

That quieted her mother and Fang Zhi as well. The three rode in silence all the way home. Mom asked, “Want me to carry you upstairs?”

“No need.” Chen Nian perked up and hopped to her feet, brimming with sudden energy.

She bolted ahead, calling out, “Home at last!” Fang Zhi chased right after, and the two raced up the stairs like their lives depended on it, arriving breathless at the door.

With Dad away on his business trip these past couple of days, Chen Nian did have her keys—but Ms. Liu Chunhua was still trailing behind, probably not even at the building entrance yet. She couldn’t very well leave her out there and unlock the door twice.

Fang Zhi was thinking the same thing. They flanked the door, facing each other and panting, like a pair of guardian deities.

“You were amazing today,” Fang Zhi said, gasping between words.

Chen Nian just looked at her, saying nothing.

“I…” Fang Zhi drew a deep breath to steady herself, then straightened up with solemn resolve. “I have an answer to the question you asked me yesterday.”

Chen Nian smiled down at her feet. She didn’t want to hear it.

But nothing could stop Fang Zhi from speaking her piece—nothing could halt a child’s dream.

“I want to be a star someday,” she said, smiling.