Chapter 9
As Fang Huai stepped into the registration area, he had already braced himself for another round of sarcastic remarks from Auntie Li Chunfang. However, to his surprise, the staff had changed this time.
The new registrar was a friendly middle-aged man who cheerfully helped him fill out the forms and even reminded him of a few important details. The registration process went smoothly—though this was only the first step. There would be an initial selection round later, which wouldn’t be recorded or broadcasted. Its sole purpose was to filter out the top forty contestants for the actual show.
Of course, not all of those forty contestants were rookies. A significant number were artists who had already debuted—some of whom had even experienced fame before and were now hoping for a comeback through the show.
By the time Fang Huai left Starlight Entertainment and returned to his hostel, it was already nearing evening.
What he didn’t notice was that, throughout this entire process, the jade pendant he wore was emitting a faint glow—one that only grew stronger as time passed.
That night, after washing up and setting his alarm for the next morning, Fang Huai climbed into bed.
On the windowsill, a withering moth orchid sat lifelessly. A small flock of birds perched outside, their heads bobbing curiously as if something inside was drawing them in.
The jade pendant slipped out from his collar as he drifted into deep sleep.
His slightly curled hair strands swayed as if touched by an unseen breeze. His fingers clenched slightly, unconscious of the swirling, invisible energy gathering around him, accelerating bit by bit. The jade pendant’s soft glow expanded, gradually enveloping his entire body.
In that light, Fang Huai’s brows furrowed slightly—
He was having a dream.
In his dream, he stood in a vast, boundless space. Everything around him was pure white—monotonous and endless. He floated mid-air, surrounded by scattered objects drifting in the void. Some of them were gray and shrouded in mist, their outlines barely visible—Fang Huai squinted hard and vaguely recognized books, a suit, a stethoscope, a microphone, a keyboard, a drawing board… and other assorted items.
However, three objects stood out in full clarity.
A pile of various stuffed animal toys, a neatly folded suit, and a scroll.
Fang Huai: “…?”
Confused, he glanced around, but all he saw was more white. With nothing else to do, he reached for the stuffed animal pile.
They were cute—cartoonish representations of different creatures. There was a little bird, a stray dog, and others.
He picked up a plush bird with bright, round eyes and stared at it for a while before suddenly freezing.
It looked… a lot like the little sparrow from this morning.
Of course, most sparrows looked similar, but the one he had saved earlier had a distinct marking on its wing. And now, the same marking appeared on this plush toy. He examined the other toys, realizing that they, too, felt strangely familiar.
Could this be the so-called what you think about during the day, you dream about at night?
What he didn’t notice was a faint, translucent line of text floating above the stuffed animals: “Affinity with animals: 100% — Ability obtained: Unconditional love and assistance from any animal (wild or domesticated). Healing ability for animals (including fatal injuries).”
Fang Huai put down the plush toys and picked up the suit.
This, however, he didn’t recognize.
Above the suit, another glowing line of text flickered briefly:
“Ye Yuyuan’s ??? — Affection Level: ??? — Ability obtained: One precognitive dream. (Note: The predicted event will definitely happen and cannot be changed.)”
Fang Huai only caught a faint glimpse of the words before everything around him suddenly blurred—
A new line of text flashed before his eyes: “Precognitive dream beginning.”
Fang Huai was thrown into confusion. Before he could make sense of anything, his vision went dark.
*
The sound of ringing jolted him awake.
Disoriented, he stared blankly at the glowing phone screen. Before he could react, the call connected on its own.
“Fang Huai, what the hell happened last night?!”
His agent, Shi Feiran, wasted no time launching into a tirade. “Have you seen the trending topics?! Do you know what a mess this is?!”
On a certain Saturday morning, at exactly 8 AM—
The top three trending searches were:
#1: Fang Huai & Ye Yuyuan’s Engagement
#2: Fang Huai’s Late-Night Meeting with Feng Lang—Suspected Relationship Crisis?
#3: Duan Yang Admits: ‘Fang Huai is the Most Important Person in My Life.’
Fang Huai: “……???”
“Who?” He blinked in confusion at the three unfamiliar names, scratching his head.
Dressed in an oversized T-shirt and shorts, he sat at the edge of the bed. Morning sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a golden glow on his tousled hair, making it appear almost flaxen. His legs—pale and slender—dangled over the side.
His appearance hadn’t changed in years.
The room wasn’t very large, and the furniture was somewhat messy.
Comic books and scripts were scattered across the floor, but the desk was neatly stacked with documents. Near the entrance, two pairs of slippers sat side by side.
…Two pairs?
Did that mean someone else was living here with him?
Fang Huai’s gaze lingered slightly on this detail.
Meanwhile, his agent was still talking, his tone carrying a hint of resignation. “Even Duan Yang called me yesterday asking about you… Fang Huai, let me ask you—what exactly do you mean by all this? I don’t want to interfere in your personal life, but this is just too—”
“…”
“I don’t know either,” Fang Huai admitted honestly. “I don’t know any of the people you just mentioned.”
Then, he yawned, his light amber eyes still hazy with sleep, completely out of the loop.
Agent: “…”
Shi Feiran was speechless. He had been speaking so earnestly, but Fang Huai remained completely indifferent, as if none of this had anything to do with him. It was infuriating.
After hanging up, Fang Huai sat on the bed for a moment to gather his thoughts before finally getting up.
Even with his eyes closed, he could find his slippers. He walked into the bathroom and picked up a toothbrush—there were two sets of toothbrushes and cups. Instinctively, he felt that the set on the left was his. His brain had no recollection, but his body seemed to remember.
This is my home, Fang Huai thought.
In the corner, he even spotted a few posters, seemingly promotional materials for a movie.
One of the posters had his face on it—or at least, someone who looked like him. But the aura was unfamiliar.
In that particular poster, the young man sat in a defiant pose on an abandoned throne, his crown tilted to one side. His light amber eyes were lazily narrowed, and his skin had an almost sickly pallor.
A beam of light shone down from above, illuminating him amidst a tangle of overgrown vines and nameless flowers, creating an eerie yet breathtakingly beautiful scene.
Below the image, the text read:
“June 23rd, Nameless Melody premieres worldwide. Nominated for seven Oscars. Starring Cannes’ youngest Best Actor, Fang Huai.”
Fang Huai: “……”
“…Cannes.” He repeated the word slowly, struggling to process it.
What does that even mean?
…Is this really me?
Next to the poster was an assortment of small gifts—fan-made chibi plushies of himself, figurines, love letters, and other memorabilia. Each was addressed “To Fang Huai.” He hesitated for a moment before opening a few letters to read.
The first one: “To the cutest and most handsome Huaihuai, hello!! I don’t know if you’ll ever see this QAQ, but I just want to tell you—don’t listen to the haters! We’ll always love you! You’re amazing!!! Are you filming a new project these days? Please take care of yourself! Also… just a tiny question—Huaihuai, are you really getting married to President Ye?”
Fang Huai: “…”
So many words he didn’t understand. “President Ye” sounds like a girl’s name…? Strange.
The second letter: “I finally got my hands on the They album, and it’s even a signed copy—I’m literally crying on the spot!!! Jumping up to give my Huai a kiss. By the way, I personally think Duan Yang really, really cares about you… I hope your friendship (love) lasts forever~”
Fang Huai: “…”
Still doesn’t make sense. Next one.
The third letter: “Will my dear Huai collaborate with Film Emperor Feng again? Your chemistry in Frost was absolutely incredible!”
Fang Huai: “…”
Still incomprehensible.
He gave up.
Fang Huai sat on the floor for a while before standing up, deciding to go outside and take a look around. He opened the wardrobe, only to find that it was neatly divided into two halves—one side filled with sportswear and t-shirts, while the other held three or four meticulously arranged tailored suits, which were clearly not his size.
So, was this room really shared by two people? Who was the other person—a friend?
Confused, Fang Huai randomly picked out an outfit, changed, and headed for the door.
Just as his hand landed on the doorknob, the doorbell rang—perfect timing.
Opening the door, he found a man standing outside.
The man was tall—Fang Huai himself had a slim, lanky build, but this guy was at least half a head taller. He looked to be in his mid-to-late twenties, with striking platinum blonde hair that most people wouldn’t be able to pull off. A single earring adorned his left ear, his skin was pale, and his sharp features carried an air of defiance.
He was straddling a motorcycle, his long legs planted firmly on the ground. His visor was lifted just enough to reveal a pair of beautifully shaped eyes. Without a word, he casually tossed a helmet toward Fang Huai.
“Get on,” the man said, tilting his chin slightly.
His voice was unique—deep and slightly raspy, carrying the charm of a smoker’s voice. But it was undoubtedly a good voice.
Fang Huai instinctively caught the helmet. “…”
Who?
“Tch.”
The man frowned impatiently, his temper clearly not great. “Are you stupid? I said get on.”
Fang Huai stared at him, completely blank.
After hesitating for a moment, he sincerely asked, “And… you are?”
For a split second, the man’s face darkened.
His golden eyes narrowed into slits before quickly relaxing again. He frowned slightly, then strode forward, his long legs closing the distance in just a few steps. Leaning down, he placed a hand on Fang Huai’s forehead.
“Are you sick?”
Fang Huai’s light amber eyes looked at him in utter confusion.
Just then, a car horn suddenly sounded from a distance.
A Bugatti Veyron pulled up at the curb, its window rolling down.
Inside, a man removed his sunglasses, tapping his slender index finger idly against the car door. His gaze swept over the two of them before he lazily spoke:
“What a coincidence. Duan Yang is here too.”
His voice, just like his demeanor, was unhurried and relaxed, carrying a teasing lilt that made the air around them feel subtly warmer.
“But,” the corners of his thin lips curled slightly, forming a faint smile, “Huaihuai is spending the day with me, isn’t that right?”
For a long moment, the two men locked eyes, and the atmosphere instantly became charged with tension.
Fang Huai: “…”
He looked to the left. Then to the right.
At that moment, his phone suddenly rang again.
He hesitated briefly before instinctively picking up his Bluetooth earpiece and pressing the answer button.
A deep, rich voice—cold, yet incredibly captivating—flowed smoothly into his ear:
“Stay home.”
“I’ll be back soon.”
Fang Huai: “………………”
