Chapter 13
One hour later.
Shi Feiran paid out of his own pocket to treat Fang Huai to a meal. He had assumed that, given the boy’s tall and lean frame, his appetite wouldn’t be big. But—
Looking at the towering stack of empty plates in front of him, Shi Feiran felt like crying.
Now he finally understood why, an hour ago, Fang Huai had repeatedly asked if he was really allowed to eat all this.
Wanting to leave a good first impression, Shi Feiran had chosen a high-end Cantonese private restaurant. It wasn’t crowded, and the prices were steep.
Over the course of this hour, after repeated explanations from Shi Feiran, Fang Huai finally understood the concepts of “manager,” “artist,” and everything else related to the entertainment industry.
“There are forty contestants who passed the auditions,” Shi Feiran said, circling a few names on a piece of paper. “Half of them will be eliminated in the first round. These are the ones who are truly strong competitors.”
“The first one is Lu Yu. He started out as a child star and used to be in a boy band.”
Lu Yu was one of those who had once been famous but had since faded into obscurity. He was now trying to make a comeback through Stellar Light.
That said, he wasn’t entirely forgotten—he was just no longer as popular as before. Nowadays, he leaned into the “hardworking but underrated” persona, frequently appearing in social media articles like ‘Top 10 Talented Artists Who Deserve More Recognition.’
Fang Huai nodded uncertainly.
He looked at the photo of the young man—fair-skinned, with delicate and cute features. But his eyebrows and eyes were too narrow, lacking clarity, with a slightly sharp and effeminate look.
“And then there’s Xu Lufeng—recently signed with Muying Media.”
Fang Huai glanced at the photo. It was a tanned young man with a bright, sunny smile.
“…”
After the meal, Fang Huai felt overwhelmed. Shi Feiran had force-fed him a flood of information, leaving his brain in a mess.
When Shi Feiran went to the restroom, Fang Huai decided to step outside for some air.
This private restaurant was quite high-end, located in the heart of Nan City, where every inch of land was worth a fortune. Surprisingly, it even had a sizeable garden.
The city flower of Nan City was the white magnolia, and it was currently in full bloom. A few magnolia trees in the garden were covered in blossoms.
The sun was setting, and the sky was growing dark, but the streetlights hadn’t turned on yet. The golden hues of dusk bathed everything in a warm glow, and the distant sounds of traffic and people felt far away.
Under one of the trees stood a man.
He was tall, his back facing Fang Huai.
The tailored suit he wore perfectly outlined the elegant contours of his shoulders and back. A few petals had fallen onto his shoulder, but he seemed unaware, silently gazing at something in front of him.
Fang Huai’s gaze fell on the tree behind the man, and suddenly, he noticed something.
“Mm…”
He halted for a moment before stepping forward.
Hearing the approaching footsteps, the man turned around. The setting sun cast a glow on his shoulders and brow, highlighting his handsome yet silent demeanor. His dark eyes flickered slightly as he fixed his gaze on the young man walking toward him.
Neither of them spoke.
Fang Huai’s footsteps were light, as if afraid of disturbing something. His pale amber eyes were filled with the soft hues of the sunset, making them appear warm and pure.
Even as he drew closer, he didn’t stop.
Ye Yuyuan’s gaze deepened slightly. His long fingers instinctively rubbed against his cufflinks, and his thin lips pressed together. His expression remained composed, but the small movements… hinted at a trace of nervousness.
His Adam’s apple bobbed once before he hesitated and spoke, “You—”
By this point, they were already very close, without any explanation exchanged between them.
From a stranger’s perspective, the situation might have seemed abrupt. But Ye Yuyuan didn’t feel offended—just…
At the very moment Ye Yuyuan’s voice rang out—
Fang Huai’s brow twitched slightly, his expression tinged with both surprise and mild frustration. Then—
He suddenly stepped forward and pressed his hands against the taller man’s chest, pinning him against the tree behind him.
Ye Yuyuan’s breath hitched.
A textbook-perfect kabedon—no, tree-don.
Following the younger man’s motion, Ye Yuyuan took two steps back until his back pressed against the tree trunk. Instinctively, he lowered his head, one hand reaching behind Fang Huai’s head to steady him in his embrace, the other supporting his back to prevent him from falling.
Too close.
At this angle, he could see the younger man’s eyelashes, the soft, light-colored eyes that were clear and focused, exuding an unmistakable youthful confidence.
The proximity blurred the boundaries between them—their breaths entwined.
Because Fang Huai had tilted his head slightly upward to reach him, the tips of his slightly tousled hair brushed against Ye Yuyuan’s jaw. The simple scent of his shampoo was unexpectedly pleasant.
Ye Yuyuan’s heartbeat suddenly faltered.
“…”
The impeccably dressed, normally composed man lowered his gaze, a faint flush creeping up the tips of his ears.
Meanwhile, Fang Huai let out a sigh of relief as he cradled the small bird in his palm.
—Just now, he had spotted a nest on the tree branch behind the man. A fledgling had been teetering on the edge, about to fall.
Afraid that making a sound would startle it, Fang Huai had remained silent. And just as expected, when the man spoke, his voice startled the little bird. The branch shook, and it tumbled down.
Fortunately, he had managed to catch it in time.
Now that the bird was safe—time to step back.
Retreat… retreat… but he couldn’t.
Fang Huai: “……”
At first, he thought this man had simply steadied him out of politeness.
But why… was the hand on his back actually holding him firmly in place?
Like a real embrace, completely trapping him within.
The evening light was gentle.
The distant sounds of traffic and chatter drifted from afar, but this little corner remained silent—almost awkward. At least, in Fang Huai’s perspective, it was.
The suited man lowered his dark eyes slightly, his gaze resting on Fang Huai’s face, revealing no particular emotion. Fang Huai wanted to politely remind him to step back, maybe explain himself, but just as he raised his eyes, he suddenly froze.
Was… he hot?
Ye Yuyuan’s skin was very fair—an icy, jade-like whiteness that gave him an untouchable, otherworldly presence, like a god sculpted in stone. Yet at this moment, a faint blush had spread from the tips of his ears down the side of his neck. He turned his face away, a bit uneasy, but after a brief hesitation, his gaze drifted back to the boy before him.
Fang Huai: “…?”
It wasn’t particularly hot in Nan City during early summer, but considering the man was wearing a suit, maybe he was feeling warm. Strangely enough, despite the lack of air conditioning outdoors, being near him gave Fang Huai the illusion of a cool, misty chill.
The silence stretched on.
Fang Huai attempted to step back, but despite the seemingly relaxed grip, the hand on his back remained unmoving, not yielding even half an inch.
In the end, it was the little bird in Fang Huai’s hand that chirped twice, breaking the strange, stifling stillness.
“Excuse me,” Fang Huai rubbed his nose with his free hand. “Can you…”
It was only then that Ye Yuyuan seemed to snap out of it. He remained silent for a moment before, somewhat reluctantly, releasing his hold.
After a pause, he spoke in a low voice, “Sorry.”
His voice was deep and rich, like frost on snow—cool, distant, yet inexplicably captivating.
Hearing it, Fang Huai suddenly felt a sense of familiarity.
He wasn’t great at recognizing faces, slightly face-blind even, but he could remember voices.
And this one was unique—one that lingered in memory.
Fang Huai thanked him, smiled, and took a step back.
He gently patted the fledgling’s tiny head and let out a soft whistle. Within half a minute, the adult bird returned from foraging and carried its young away.
Once that was done, Fang Huai finally looked back at Ye Yuyuan and explained, “Sorry about earlier…”
The man listened in silence, then gave a faint “Mm.”
When Fang Huai finished speaking, the quietness returned.
He actually wanted to hear Ye Yuyuan say something more—anything, really—just because that voice was that nice to listen to. But the man didn’t seem like the talkative type.
“Well… I should get going?”
Fang Huai glanced back toward the restaurant. He and Shi Feiran had been seated near the window—by now, Shi Feiran had probably returned from the restroom.
Ye Yuyuan remained silent for a long moment before finally giving another reluctant-sounding “Mm.”
For some reason, despite his expression remaining impassive and his few words offering no real indication, Fang Huai felt like the man’s mood had just taken a nosedive.
Fang Huai: “…?”
He had no idea why.
Turning back, he took only two steps when—
Behind him, a deep, measured voice spoke, one word at a time:
“My name is Ye Yuyuan.”
His tone was slightly muffled.
But still, incredibly pleasant.
Fang Huai paused.
Now that he thought about it, they had run into each other a few times already—fate, perhaps? But until now, he’d never known the man’s name.
“Ye Yuyuan, hello,” Fang Huai turned back, his light amber eyes meeting Ye Yuyuan’s with genuine sincerity. He smiled. “My name is Fang Huai. Nice to meet you.”
When he said Ye Yuyuan’s name, it sounded a little awkward—his pronunciation slightly stiff.
But that unpracticed earnestness made it unexpectedly endearing.
The silent man’s gaze softened just a fraction.
Like two children in kindergarten meeting for the first time, they formally exchanged names, shook hands, and said their goodbyes—
Just as Fang Huai spotted Shi Feiran returning from the restaurant, looking around for him.
Ye Yuyuan gazed intently at the boy’s retreating figure.
In a low voice, he murmured, “Me too.”
It’s nice to meet you.
… Really nice.
His usually cold, deep voice softened, turning rich and warm, the chill fading away—like ice slowly melting under the sun, unexpectedly pleasant to the ear.
After saying this, his lips pressed together slightly, and he lowered his gaze, his dark eyes filled with a rare tenderness.
The secretary who had just arrived: “…????”
Did the boss just get possessed by someone else? What do I do?!
*
At the Cantonese restaurant.
After saying goodbye to Ye Yuyuan, Fang Huai pushed open the door and returned to his seat.
“Where did you go?” Shi Feiran asked casually. Then, as if remembering something, he added, “Oh, by the way, who was that guy you were talking to just now?”
Fang Huai sat down, picked up the fruit juice on the table, and took a sip before answering nonchalantly,
“Just took a walk outside. He said his name is Ye Yuyuan.”
Shi Feiran was peeling an orange and responded just as casually, “Oh, Ye Yuyuan—”
Then, suddenly, his hand slipped, his fingers trembled, and the half-peeled orange dropped straight into the trash can. “Say that again?!”
Shi Feiran immediately looked out the window, but the man was already gone. A car was slowly pulling away, merging into the stream of traffic.
“Ye Yuyuan.” Fang Huai repeated, though his pronunciation of the three syllables was still a little awkward, as if the name didn’t quite roll off his tongue naturally. “He’s pretty tall, very friendly, and has a nice voice.”
…Now that he thought about it, he felt a little embarrassed.
That was pretty much all he knew about Ye Yuyuan at this point.
Shi Feiran stared at him.
Fang Huai was always earnest when he spoke—he wasn’t the type to lie. Most people didn’t have such clear, unclouded eyes.
Hearing the words very friendly, Shi Feiran slowly sat back down, patted his stomach, and exhaled before saying in an exaggeratedly relieved tone, “Oh, must be someone with the same name. That makes sense.”
Because that Ye Yuyuan could never be described as very friendly.
To be honest, even though he knew Ye Yuyuan lived in the same city, in most people’s minds, the man existed on an entirely different level.
What were the odds of just randomly running into him while grabbing a meal?
The topic was quickly brushed aside.
“The preliminary selection for Stellar Light is in two weeks,” Shi Feiran coughed and got down to business. “I know you can sing. But Stellar Light is looking for idols—besides singing, what else can you do?”
Fang Huai paused for a moment, then whistled. A thrush flew in through the window, landed on his chopsticks, and bent down to peck at some rice grains.
“I can do this,” he said honestly.
Shi Feiran: “…”
He was momentarily speechless. He had seen it in videos before, but this was the first time witnessing it in person. Still, he quickly regained his composure.
“They’re looking for an idol, not a circus performer. This is… cool, yeah, but it’s not enough.”
There were tons of people who could sing well—practically anyone remotely connected to the industry could carry a tune. What would make him stand out?
Stellar Light had four rounds in total, with a combination of judges’ scores and online voting. Later stages even included a fan-voting segment. Fang Huai had decent popularity online, but who could guarantee that his hype would last?
He needed more practice. Even if it meant cramming at the last minute, it was better than nothing.
“Let me confirm something first—you’re serious about competing in Stellar Light? About winning?” Shi Feiran asked.
Fang Huai, who had been picking out grains of rice to feed the bird, set his chopsticks down and looked at Shi Feiran with complete sincerity.
“Yes.”
His tone wasn’t particularly forceful, but it carried an undeniable weight.
Shi Feiran maintained a neutral expression, but inside, he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Then, here’s to a successful collaboration.”
“Mm. Looking forward to working together.”
Their glasses—one filled with orange juice, the other with soup—clinked lightly, producing a crisp sound.
*
At the same time, over the next few days, the name Fang Huai quietly started circulating within China’s singer-songwriter community.
It all began with his stunning performance during the auditions, which left a deep impression on the judges.
Some of them even felt a bit regretful—if only the auditions were recorded. If they could’ve taken that clip back to watch again…
But Fang Huai’s singing was unique. He didn’t rely on complicated, flashy vocal techniques. His strength lay entirely in the raw quality of his voice. The impact of hearing it live was almost overwhelming, and ironically, a recording might not have captured that same effect.
Regardless, every judge who had been present at the auditions mentally etched both that melody and Fang Huai’s name into their memory.
The auditions were semi-confidential, so they couldn’t publicly discuss too much. But the excitement in their hearts was impossible to suppress. And so, later that day, countless similar conversations took place—
“I came across a real talent at the Stellar Light auditions today. His singing, I swear—no exaggeration—was so good it almost made my ears fall off. It’s just a shame the audition was only two minutes long. I barely got to hear the full song.”
“Oh? Who was it?”
“I can’t say too much—just that it’s the guy who went viral online recently, the ‘brick-moving young man’.”
“Hahaha, are you joking?! Are you brainwashed like those people online? I’ve seen the video, and honestly, he’s just barely passable. His voice and composition are both average at best.”
“Sigh, I can’t explain it to you.”
Anyone qualified to be a judge on Stellar Light had some level of influence in the industry. So, within just two days, nearly half of China’s singer-songwriter community had heard the name Fang Huai. Of course, almost everyone assumed their friends had lost their minds or fallen for some kind of hype, treating it as nothing more than a joke.
After all, a construction worker laying bricks… It wasn’t that they looked down on the profession—there had been plenty of sob-story talent shows before, and some contestants did sing well. But a rural kid, one with no formal training—how good could he possibly be?
If they were talking about raw talent, well, everyone had seen the video. His performance in Cub’s Song was definitely better than the average person’s, but its popularity was mostly due to the “superpower” factor. Judging purely on musical skill, it was far from being a jaw-dropping, breathtaking display of talent.
Some people even started watching Stellar Light out of sheer curiosity, waiting to see what kind of “brilliant” performance this so-called “amazing” rural construction worker would deliver.
