Chapter 45: Twenty Thousand People

Stage.

A venue for twenty thousand people, the lights dark.

Not an ordinary darkness, but one that could swallow a person whole.

You couldn’t see your hand in front of your face.

Even the emergency lights on the edge of the stage were turned off—tonight, not a single light was left.

The audience was so quiet it was as if no one was there.

But I could hear them.

The breath of twenty thousand people, the heartbeat of twenty thousand hearts, all pressing down on this darkness, pressing down on the spot where I stood.

I was on the lift.

The lift hadn’t risen yet.

I stood alone on that round metal plate, surrounded by nothing but black.

My skirt hung down.

The crimson gauze showed no color in the darkness, but I knew it was swaying—wind came up through the gap in the lift, blowing from below, making the hem float and fall.

A silver-white ribbon was tied around my waist.

A ruby forehead ornament hung in my hair.

The heart-shaped main jewel at my neck was invisible in the dark.

I took a deep breath.

Then—

Ding.

The first sound.

Not music.

It came from me.

The little gem pendants on my skirt—when I moved, they made a sound.

Ding.

Another sound.

Someone in the audience heard it.

I started to hear their breathing change.

From quiet, to suppressed excitement, to the kind that was about to burst—

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

I took a step forward.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

With each step, those little gems made a sound.

Ding-ding-dang-dang, floating out into the darkness, reaching every corner.

People in the audience started turning on their lightsticks.

One.

Ten.

A hundred.

A thousand.

Pink light exploded one after another in the darkness.

It wasn’t the stage that lit up—it was the audience seats.

I stood in the darkness, watching that pink ocean.

They couldn’t see me.

But I knew they were looking at me.

—Because the direction they held their lightsticks pointed was all toward me.

***

Agency.

Training Room.

The TV was on.

On the screen was the venue of twenty thousand people, the lights dark.

The camera panned across the audience—dense heads, countless lightsticks, pink, not yet lit.

Danmaku scrolled across the top of the screen:

[Here it comes here it comes—!]

[Three days! Finally again!!]

[Gemstone Princess Gemstone Princess Gemstone Princess]

[How’s her condition today? Another three consecutive shows with only three days between…]

[Previous comment, don’t say that, I’m worried too]

[Last show she seemed a bit tired at the end?]

[This is what happens when you’re a free idol with no team]

[I feel for Alice—]

Su Nian sat on the floor, holding her empty, transparent water bottle, staring at the screen.

Xiao Xi crouched next to her, also staring at the screen.

Shen Wei sat cross-legged across from them, phone in hand, but her eyes kept glancing toward the TV.

Chuxue, for once, also sat down, holding a cup of black tea.

No one spoke.

***

Intro: A crystal-clear synth sound effect, like countless gems scattering.

The music started.

The lift began to rise.

I stood on that metal plate, slowly ascending from below the stage.

The lights still weren’t on.

Only that pink ocean, getting closer and closer.

When I rose level with the stage, I stopped.

Stood there.

Looked out at the audience.

Then—

The lights exploded.

Not a gradual brightening, but a whoosh, all of them coming on at once.

Red.

Pink.

White.

Gold.

Countless beams hit me from every direction.

The crimson gauze of my skirt was blown up by the wind, and the pink silk lining underneath unfolded layer by layer, like cherry blossoms falling on snow, then swept up again by the wind.

Then I opened my mouth.

[The spotlight suddenly goes dark—]

My voice was lighter than usual.

Slower than usual.

Every word had a bit of a trailing tail, languid, like I’d just woken up.

The last word, “dark,” dragged for half a beat, floating in the air.

The audience was quiet for half a second.

That kind of “what is she doing” silence.

[The whole venue holds its breath, counting down three seconds—]

I took a step forward.

Very slow.

The sole of my shoe landed on the stage floor without a sound.

[Whose footsteps are getting closer and closer—]

Second step.

My skirt brushed the floor with a shh sound.

[Each step lands on a heartbeat—]

Third step.

I reached the center of the stage and stopped.

My ponytail swung around.

The tips brushed my shoulder—in that moment, I could feel the texture of hair hitting fabric, light, with a soft tap.

I smiled at the audience.

That smile was also lighter than usual.

The corners of my mouth lifted less than a centimeter, and my eyes narrowed just a bit.

As if echoing what the danmaku had said—she was getting tired.

A few people in the front were stunned.

The girl in the first row, her mouth still open, but her expression had changed from “finally here” to “what’s wrong with her.”

But more people started shouting.

Someone yelled “Alice—!” from the middle of the audience.

Someone yelled “Gemstone Princess—!” from the right.

Then from the left, and from the back.

The shouts went from a handful, to a small patch, to a huge wave.

As if to show—they still trusted their “princess.”

[Look into my eyes like diamond facets—]

I raised my hand.

The movement was lighter and softer than usual.

My fingers slowly unfurled, from fist to open palm, taking two seconds.

Palm up, facing the audience.

[Every angle refracts the light—]

I turned.

My left foot as the pivot, my right foot tracing a half circle.

My skirt lifted, the crimson gauze swirling in the air, the hem brushing my knees.

[From hair tips to fingertips, all carefully polished—]

I showed the arc from wrist to fingertips.

My wrist turned a circle, my fingers curled one by one, then extended one by one.

Every joint moved.

[Just to let you see the most perfect version of me—]

Sung very softly.

The last word, “me,” was almost a breath, floating out from my throat.

Pause.

Silence for one second.

In that second, you could hear the hum of the air conditioning system, the rustle of someone shifting in their seat.

I closed my eyes, my eyelashes casting shadows under the lights.

As if I was about to fall asleep.

But they wouldn’t sleep.

They were still waiting for my response.

‘More importantly… I’ve rested enough.’

—So, I opened my eyes.

[Shine! Gemstone Princess descends—!!!]

Instantly.

I jumped.

Jumped high—higher than any time before.

My knees pushed off, the balls of my feet drove into the ground, my whole body lifted off.

My vision lost gravity.

My ponytail swung behind me in a pink arc, from right shoulder to left, the highest point over thirty centimeters above my head.

My skirt fully spread out, the crimson gauze glittering under the lights, the pink silk lining flipping out layer by layer, like a flower suddenly blooming, like a burning cloud.

When I landed, my knees bent.

My heels hit first, then the balls of my feet, then my knees bent to forty-five degrees to absorb the impact.

The stage floor let out a soft thump.

But this time it didn’t hurt.

Because—I’d rested enough.

[Ding-a-ling, ding-a-ling—]

I ran across the stage.

From left to right, from right to left.

Every step landed on the drumbeat, every step planted firmly.

When I ran to the left, I waved to the audience there—my hand swept upward from below, palm out.

When I ran to the right, I made a heart with my hands for the audience there—both hands raised above my head, forming a heart shape.

Every direction I went, the screams in that direction rose higher.

Left screamed, right screamed, middle screamed, back screamed.

Wave after wave of sound hit me, pressing in from all sides.

[My skirt raises starlight, my crown shines bright—]

I ran to the very front of the stage and crouched down.

My knees bent, my skirt spread on the floor, the crimson gauze fanning out.

I was at eye level with the first row—that girl was right in front of me, less than three meters away.

Her eyes were wide, her mouth open, her lightstick held at her chest, completely still.

[Today I’m going to rule the whole venue—!]

I held out the microphone.

Twenty thousand people opened their mouths.

They shouted louder than before.

Not “Alice,” not “Gemstone Princess”—just pure screams, the kind that wants to rip everything out of your chest.

“Shine! Gemstone Princess descends—!”

—The audience shouted, and when that sound crashed into me, I smiled and pretended to lean back a little—as if knocked over by the sound wave.

Then I threw it back:

[Shine! Gemstone Princess descends—!!!]

***

Three days apart.

The fourth show in a row.

—Normally, I should be tired.

On stage, I smiled lightly.

But my condition was good today.

The Su Nian matter was temporarily settled.

The stunned expression on her face when she got her second song, the voice she used when she said “I miss you” on the phone, the “I won’t give up” look in her eyes when she stood on stage doing her tenth run—

I’d done what I needed to do.

The rest was up to her.

I wouldn’t interfere any more, but that also meant—

I’d slept well these past two days.

Seven hours every day.

When I woke up, the sky was already light.

Sunlight squeezed through the gaps in the curtains, cutting a bright line across the room, from the pillow all the way to the floor.

This morning, I lay there, looking at that line, and knew: my condition was good.

Then I got up.

Drank tea.

Daydreamed.

Waited for night.

—They thought I’d be tired.

Maybe a normal idol would be tired.

But that wasn’t “Alice,” the “Gemstone Princess” who had just won “Supernova” a little over ten days ago.

So I could stand up again—and keep singing.

[Ruby is the rhythm of my heartbeat—]

My hand pressed to my chest.

I could feel my heart beating, thump, thump, thump, exactly the tempo of this song.

[Sapphire is the background color of my dreams—]

My hand pushed forward.

Palm forward, fingers together, from my chest to my face to into the distance.

[Inside the rose quartz hides a maiden’s secret—]

My hand went to my mouth, a whispering gesture.

I tilted my head, looked upward, my lashes fluttering once.

[And diamond is a promise that never fades—]

I walked to the edge of the stage and crouched down.

My skirt spread out again.

I held the microphone out to that girl in the first row—still her.

She froze.

Her mouth open, but no sound came out.

Her eyes went from the mic to me, from the mic to me.

Then she leaned in and shouted, “Forever—!”

Her voice was loud, so close I could hear the hoarseness in her throat.

I blinked.

My lashes fluttered twice.

—A smile.

***

Agency.

In the training room, it was quiet for a few seconds.

Only the chaotic live sound from the TV—”Encore,” “Encore” chants.

The figure on stage was vague, far away.

And yet so close.

Su Nian was still staring at the screen.

Her mouth open, not closed.

Her lips parted, showing a little bit of teeth.

The empty water bottle had rolled onto the floor at some point, rolling around a couple of times before stopping.

The blue bottle lay next to the mat, the TV light reflecting off its surface.

Shen Wei’s phone screen was frozen on that spot, not scrolling.

The screen showed her Twitter feed, the last tweet from half an hour ago, not loading any new ones.

Xiao Xi was still crouching, eyes wide.

Her mouth was also open, just like Su Nian.

Chuxue was holding her black tea, the cup frozen halfway.

The rim of the cup was five centimeters from her lips, completely still.

Steam rose upward, dispersing in front of her face.

Silence.

The air conditioning vent hummed.

Then Su Nian spoke.

Her voice was very small.

So small it was almost inaudible.

“…It was an act, right.”

No one answered.

She spoke again.

“Everything earlier… it was all an act.”

Silence.

Everyone just stared at the pink danmaku still floating across the screen.

The danmaku kept scrolling, one after another, sliding from right to left:

[So incredible—!]

[Gemstone Princess is forever the god—!]

[The ceiling of free idols—!]

[This part made me cry—]

[Who said she’d be tired???]

[This condition is called tired???]

[Alice—!! Alice—!!]

Not a single one of those danmaku registered.

They just stared at the direction that figure was dancing in.

Stared at the stage.

The deep crimson skirt, hanging, constantly fluttering.

Eyes shining like jewels, reflecting all the brilliance—

They stared for a long time.

Then, someone quietly said a line.

“…That person doesn’t get tired.”