Wake Up, This is Not a Dating Show! Chapter 6.2

Part 2

“What are you two chatting about, looking so happy?” Yuan Lei, who was sitting to the side, suddenly asked.

“Nothing!” Ye Nai rushed to answer.

This reaction only further aroused Yuan Lei’s curiosity.

“Could it be something I’m not allowed to hear?”

“We were just talking about…” Yi Xingzhi began to say calmly.

“Hey!” Ye Nai quickly tried to stop him with his eyes.

If he actually said it out loud, he wouldn’t be able to show his face around here anymore.

Then, he heard the second half of Yi Xingzhi’s sentence: “…what kind of fabric cats like to scratch.”

Ye Nai: “?”

What the hell?

“Oh, my cat absolutely loves scratching balls of yarn.” Believing it to be true, Yuan Lei pointed at Yi Xingzhi’s clothes and said, “With a sweater like yours, I wouldn’t even dare to wear it. The moment I put it on, it would get scratched to shreds.”

“Yeah, I was just saying that,” Yi Xingzhi shot an intentional-yet-unintentional glance at Ye Nai. “If I want to prevent cat scratches, I’ll have to change into a different one.”

Ye Nai: “…”

It was hard not to suspect that he did that on purpose.

Using his own cat as a topic, Yuan Lei began to chatter endlessly. However, Yi Xingzhi gradually became a man of few words again, only occasionally chiming in with a sentence or two to ensure the other party didn’t face an awkward silence.

Ye Nai faintly felt that something was a bit strange, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was.

It wasn’t until Yin Tianhan returned to the backstage area that he finally remembered an important question. Why hadn’t Yi Xingzhi gone over to the waiting area?

“Aren’t you the fourth one? Why are you still here?”

“The host said there’s a promotional short film to insert in the middle, as well as some sponsored live reads. I’ll head over in a bit,” Yi Xingzhi said.

He hadn’t expected that a competition with a total of only six people would actually be split into a first and second half. Didn’t that mean Yi Xingzhi basically had to open the show all over again?

“Your luck isn’t much better than mine.” Ye Nai recalled how Yi Xingzhi had asked him if he wanted to swap lots, feeling both helpless and amused. “The two crappiest lots of the whole show were drawn by the two of us. What do you call this?”

Yi Xingzhi: “Destiny?”

Ye Nai: “Brothers in distress?”

The two of them blanked for a second after speaking simultaneously, then laughed at the same time.

Ye Nai himself hadn’t realized it, but the knot of anger in his heart had mostly dissipated. Inwardly, he had already begun to treat Yi Xingzhi as an ally on the same front line.

Seeing him stand up and prepare to take the stage, Ye Nai held out his right hand, curled into a fist. “Good luck.”

Yi Xingzhi turned his head. He saw the usually sharp eyes in front of him had retracted their edge. Because Ye Nai was looking up, his eye shape appeared round, shining as bright as the stars.

“Mhm.” Yi Xingzhi bumped his fist against his. Noticing that the front of the ring he was wearing was somewhat sharp, he retracted a bit of his force.

Watching Yi Xingzhi’s straight back as he walked toward the stage entrance with his guitar slung over his shoulder, Ye Nai suddenly associated him with a lone swordsman braving the martial arts world—radiating a righteous aura, yet exuding an inexplicable sense of desolation.

The information on Yi Xingzhi’s past provided in the documents from Jiang Kuan only consisted of a few sparse strokes:

Formed a band at age 18 and sang in bars. At 19, he was appreciated by the boss of Yuesheng Music, signed a contract, and released records.

At 22, he tore up the script to win the band championship, drawing immense public attention and adoration for three consecutive years, until the Feidu band disbanded last year.

Shortly after, rumors surfaced that he had deliberately suppressed and forced out his teammates in order to go solo.

Ye Nai had always adhered to the principle of “if you don’t know the whole picture, don’t pass judgment.” Based on their actual interactions thus far, he didn’t believe Yi Xingzhi would do such a thing.

But if he truly hadn’t done it, why didn’t Yi Xingzhi defend himself? Could it be that, just like him, he didn’t care if others misinterpreted him?

While he was pondering, Yi Xingzhi was already standing in the center of the stage. The dim yellow lights traced his handsome contours inch by inch, creating a heart-stirring atmosphere.

The guitar intro began. It was an original rock song he had never performed before, titled “Awn”.

“When I was young, drawing self-portraits in art class, everyone’s work looked different. Later, growing up within the rules, becoming lost in setbacks, losing imagination, having the sharp edges ground smooth, why did everyone turn into the exact same shape?”

Yi Xingzhi’s voice was clear and cool, yet carried a gritty texture, like grains of sand rolling inside a smooth seashell. It possessed a natural magic that could quiet the entire venue.

As he strummed the guitar strings, he unknowingly drew the audience into listening with rapt attention, pulling them into his emotions.

When it reached the chorus, the accompanying band added bass and keyboard, and the layers of the melody instantly enriched. Following a heavy drumbeat, a highly piercing voice rang out.

“Didn’t we say we’d rely on ourselves to change the world? Didn’t we say we’d absolutely never be beaten back by the wind and rain? Didn’t we decide that once we chose a path, we’d walk it straight into the dark?”

“Why is it that we were changed by the world instead? Why did our pride become so vulnerable to a single blow? Why were the ideals we held onto still shaken by the secular gaze of the world?”

Although these were questions, there wasn’t the aggressive pressing of an interrogation; it felt more like a process of personal hesitation and struggle. The lights flickered frequently, just like an intensely wavering heart.

In the second verse, the rhythm became brighter, as if drawing closer and closer to the answer.

“The journey of life never had a set destination, galloping freely only requires following the direction of your heart. Even if you wander at a crossroad, tumbling in the wind and waves, don’t lose your stance, don’t lose your flamboyance, even a lone boat can sail far on the river of dreams.”

After repeating the chorus once, he completed the psychological transition through the bridge.

“Starting to treat the scenery along the way as comfort, finally shaking hands and making peace with hesitation and cowardice. It’s just that no matter what, I can never learn to compromise, even if I only catch a fleeting glimpse of freedom.”

When the final chorus hit, the lights from all directions flared up at once, like a lighthouse pointing the way, scattering the shadows and leaving only radiance.

“Even if you are changed by the world, you can still change the world again. Forged into steel through a hundred trials, no longer fearing the biting cold wind. Understanding the rules of how the world operates, and then giving thanks to the self that never gave up.”

Yi Xingzhi played his guitar with deep devotion. His unique vocal line was mixed with a metallic tone. Even though he usually looked like a cold, lonely person, his body seemed to contain infinite energy, singing with the imposing momentum of a grand army.

He didn’t scream hysterically, yet he naturally carried a soul-shaking power, guiding the audience through a dialogue with their own inner hearts.

“No longer coerced by what is so-called ‘correct’. Look up, and realize you are already standing in the open wilderness.”

For the final line, Yi Xingzhi slowed the tempo. His tone became incredibly spatial, as if he were truly standing in a boundless wilderness, with the free wind sweeping past overhead.

The camera cut to the audience, and many people had tears welling in their eyes involuntarily.

Watching the live broadcast screen backstage, Ye Nai saw the close-up shots pan from Yi Xingzhi’s nimbly flying hands all the way to the bulging veins on the side of his neck. He could even clearly see the tiny mole next to his sliding Adam’s apple.

The audio inside the room blended with the sound from the stage, creating an even more three-dimensional acoustic effect.

“Too strong, this is simply the heavens chasing after him to feed him!” Yuan Lei clapped excitedly in awe, nudging the person next to him with his elbow. “Nyle, what do you think?”

After half a day of getting no response, Yuan Lei turned his head to look. To his surprise, he found the person beside him staring at the big screen in somewhat of a daze. Even those usually half-drooping eyelids were completely wide open, his eyelashes trembling slightly.

“Ye Nai?”

“Ah?” This time, Ye Nai heard him. He snapped out of his daze and turned around.

“Listening so intently?” Seeing his reaction, Yuan Lei was both amazed and amused. “Do you also think it’s f*cking awesome?”

Ye Nai blinked. “Ah, yeah, it’s pretty f*cking awesome.”