Chapter 48: It’s About to End

Online—

[Two days left! The Gemstone Princess and the Snow Girl!]

[Oh my god, oh my god! Does anyone still have tickets?!]

[No, they sold out the moment they were released.]

[Alice, who never performed with another “title” before… is actually—]

[Is it because the Snow Girl is also a Free Idol?]

[No! The Snow Girl is from Star Glare, a Level 1 Agency! It says so in the announcement!]

[Then why are they performing together?]

[No idea… but this is definitely a once-in-a-lifetime series.]

[With one ticket you get to see two top idols—totally worth it—]

[The problem is you can’t even buy one!!]

[Anyone selling a ticket… please…]

[Don’t even think about it. Even scalpers can’t get them.]

[These past two days, the trending topics have all been about them.]

***

Starlight Agency.

Qiu Ya stood by the window, looking out at the city.

Sunlight streamed in through the glass, casting faint shadows on her face.

The office door was open, footsteps echoed from the hallway, occasionally mixed with voices.

She picked up her teacup and took a sip.

“Two days left… it’s almost here.”

Three heads poked in through the doorway.

One, two, three.

Stacked from top to bottom.

The top one had short chestnut hair, the middle had a black ponytail, the bottom had a blunt fringe with round eyes.

“Um…” the chestnut-haired one began.

“Has Senior Chuxue… not come back yet?”

Qiu Ya turned to look at them.

Three pairs of eyes stared at her at the same time.

There was anticipation in their gazes, nervousness, and a hint of hesitation—’Should we even be asking this?’

Qiu Ya set down her teacup.

“Wasn’t the announcement made? Chuxue is preparing for the performance with the Gemstone Princess.”

The three little ones’ expressions fell at the same time.

“But…” the black ponytail whispered.

“It’s been almost two weeks…”

“Two weeks and four days,” the blunt fringe added.

The chestnut-haired one nodded.

“We’ve been counting.”

Qiu Ya looked at them.

Three heads squeezed together in the door frame, like three little animals waiting to be fed.

They were new members who joined the agency this year.

Chuxue had taught them a few times—just a few.

Ever since then, they asked about her every day.

Qiu Ya sighed.

“Well… once that performance is over, she should be back.”

The three little ones’ eyes lit up at the same time.

“Really—?!”

“Mm.”

“Yay—!”

They jumped up from the doorway.

The chestnut-haired one was the first to turn, the black ponytail followed, and the blunt fringe got squeezed back a step before catching up.

“The Snow Girl and the Gemstone Princess—!”

Their voices faded as they ran off.

“We want to watch too—!”

“Do you have tickets—?!”

“No—!”

“Then how are we going to watch—?!”

“We’ll figure it out later—!”

The footsteps disappeared at the end of the hallway.

Qiu Ya turned back to the window.

The city view was the same as always.

Distant high-rises, nearby streets, tiny figures walking along—indistinguishable faces.

She stared in that direction.

The direction of that agency.

***

Villa.

Su Wanqing stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window.

The curtains were dark gray, half pulled aside.

Sunlight streamed in from outside, cutting a bright patch on the floor.

She stood at the edge of the light, half her body illuminated, half in shadow.

Her phone was pressed to her ear.

“…Mm.”

“Understood.”

“Keep watching.”

She hung up.

She placed the phone on the table, screen down.

Tapped her fingers lightly on the surface twice.

“Twenty days…”

Her voice was very soft.

As if she were speaking only to herself.

Twenty days, an 800-person venue, debut performance.

Even less than half of two months.

What… was that person thinking?

She stared out the window.

In the distance, a bird flew by.

Small, grayish, from left to right, disappearing into the gaps between buildings.

She said nothing.

Just stared in that direction.

The direction of that little theater.

***

Starry Little Theater.

Three in the afternoon.

The 800-person venue wasn’t so empty today.

A few people sat in the audience—Chuxue, Shen Wei, Xiao Xi, and me.

Scattered apart, not clustered together.

On stage, Su Nian stood at the center.

White knight outfit.

Collar trimmed with silver, cuffs cinched tightly, skirt hem glinting under the lights as the fabric reflected, silver edges shimmering.

Her ponytail was tied tightly.

The hair tie was white, wrapped three times.

She stood there, hands at her sides.

Fingertips pointed toward the outside of her thighs.

She didn’t move.

The prelude began.

She raised her hand.

[Light falls on whom]

[The road leads to which direction]

The spotlight moved.

She walked slowly, each step landing on the beat.

From the left side of the stage to the right.

When she reached the farthest edge, she stopped and nodded slightly toward that section of the audience—where Shen Wei sat.

Shen Wei froze for a moment.

Then smiled.

[I stand here, can’t see the distance]

[But I hear my heartbeat ringing]

She walked back.

Continued walking.

Every step was steady.

The soles of her shoes hit the stage floor, making no extra sound.

[Not anyone’s shadow]

[Not anyone’s second line]

[I’m just the one]

[Still jumping]

Raise hand.

Turn.

Pause.

Raise hand.

Turn.

Pause.

The movements were smooth.

As proficient as those idols from Level 3 agencies before.

Sweat dripped from her forehead, but she didn’t stop.

[When I fall, I get up—]

She jumped.

Her knee bent slightly upon landing, then quickly steadied.

Heel first, then the ball of her foot, then the knee bent to forty-five degrees to absorb the impact.

[Even if it hurts, I don’t cry. Even if I cry, I’m not afraid—]

She turned.

Her ponytail whipped around, drawing a beautiful arc in the air.

The ends brushed past her shoulder, light and crisp—smack.

[Even if I’m half a beat slow, even if I’m different—]

She raised her hand.

Fingertips aimed straight ahead at the audience—where Chuxue sat.

Chuxue didn’t move.

But the black tea in her hand paused mid-air.

[I am also my own echo—]

Pause.

She stood at the very center of the stage.

Panting.

But she didn’t stop.

[If I can’t run, I’ll walk slowly]

[If I can’t walk, I’ll stand still]

[Wait for dawn, wait for the wind]

[Wait for that moment when I dare to shout]

She paused here for a beat.

Just one beat.

Then—

[You ask me if I can—!]

Her voice was loud.

It bounced off the empty venue, echoed back, bounced again, echoed back.

[I say—!]

Pause.

[You listen—!]

When the last note fell, she stood still.

Panting.

Her chest heaved up and down.

Sweat dripped from her forehead onto the stage—one drop, two drops, three drops—landing on the stage floor.

Silence.

Three seconds.

Five seconds.

Then Shen Wei jumped up from her seat.

“Su Nian—!!!”

She rushed to the edge of the stage and leaped up directly.

Her soles hit the stage floor with a thump.

“You danced so well—!!!”

She wrapped her arms around Su Nian.

Su Nian staggered backward from the impact.

Then steadied herself.

Then froze.

“Good… good?”

“Good—! Too good—! A thousand times better than your first performance—!”

Shen Wei’s voice was so loud it shook the entire venue.

Su Nian blinked.

Then the corners of her mouth began to lift.

“Hehe—”

She laughed.

Shen Wei hugged her back, laughing too.

Xiao Xi stood up from her seat.

She stood in the third row of the audience, watching the two people on stage.

Watching them embrace, watching them laugh, watching Shen Wei spin Su Nian around.

The corners of her mouth also lifted.

Then she walked over slowly.

Stopped at the edge of the stage.

Looked up.

Su Nian saw her and reached out her hand.

“Xiao Xi—!”

Xiao Xi froze for a moment.

Then reached out and grasped it.

Su Nian pulled her up.

Xiao Xi stumbled forward a step, then steadied herself.

Standing on the stage.

Standing next to Su Nian.

She looked down at the stage floor under her feet.

The wooden boards were dark, polished bright by the lights.

There were sweat stains from Su Nian’s earlier performance, small dark spots.

Then she looked up at Su Nian.

Su Nian was still smiling.

Her face was covered in sweat, strands of hair stuck to her forehead, but her eyes were frighteningly bright.

“Xiao Xi—! I finished my dance—!”

“…Mm.”

“Did you see—?!”

“…Mm.”

“How was it—?!”

Xiao Xi thought for a moment.

Then she said.

“…Good.”

Su Nian froze for a second.

Then she laughed even more happily.

“Hehehe—”

Chuxue also walked over.

She walked very slowly.

From the last row of the audience, step by step forward.

The soles of her shoes made a soft tap, tap sound on the floor.

She stopped at the edge of the stage.

Stood still.

Looked at Su Nian.

Su Nian looked back at her.

Three seconds.

Then Chuxue spoke.

“Not bad.”

Just two words.

But Su Nian’s eyes lit up another degree.

“Really—!?”

“Mm.”

Su Nian opened her mouth.

Wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

In the end, just—

“Hehe—”

I sat in the last row of the audience.

Watching the few people on stage.

Su Nian was laughing.

Shen Wei was laughing.

Xiao Xi stood beside them, the corners of her mouth also lifted.

Chuxue stood at the edge of the stage, her mouth curved slightly too.

They were talking.

I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but their voices drifted over, fragmented.

They were a mess of laughter.

I watched them.

Suddenly I remembered when I first came here.

Back then, there was only Su Nian.

She was crouched under a streetlamp, like a cat soaked in rain.

Now she stood on stage, in a white knight outfit, laughing.

Now there was Shen Wei, Xiao Xi, Chuxue.

So many more people.

I leaned back against the seat.

Said nothing.

The laughter gradually died down.

A few people stood on stage, panting.

They had laughed too hard, they were tired.

Silence for a few seconds.

Shen Wei was the first to speak.

“Su Nian, you’re going on stage in two days.”

Su Nian nodded.

“Mm.”

“Are you nervous?”

Su Nian thought about it.

“…A little.”

“Just a little?”

“…Mm. A little.”

Shen Wei looked at her.

“You’re lying.”

Su Nian didn’t speak.

Just smiled.

Xiao Xi stood nearby—watching them.

Watching Su Nian.

Watching Shen Wei.

Watching Chuxue.

Watching the last row of the audience—that person was still sitting there, not moving.

Then she recalled Su Nian’s “perfect” rehearsal performance and quietly opened her mouth.

Her voice was very soft.

So soft it was almost inaudible.

Amidst everyone’s joy for Su Nian, no one heard it.

“…With this…”

Her voice got even smaller, as if she was afraid the next words she was about to say would disturb the reality of the moment—

“…it really does feel like it’s about to end.”