Chapter 49: The Last Day

One day.

That countdown number hung quietly on the wall.

“One.”

Black marker, each stroke carefully drawn.

The number was written straight, but the edges were a bit fuzzy—Su Nian’s hand had trembled slightly when tracing it this morning.

No one deliberately looked at it.

But everyone who passed by, upon reaching that spot, would let their eyes drift toward it.

During training.

Su Nian stood in front of the mirror, raising her arms, turning, holding her pose.

When she hit the chorus and turned, her eyes swept across the mirror—pausing on that number for half a second.

Then she turned back and kept dancing.

During the break after dinner.

Shen Wei lay on the sofa, phone held in front of her face, screen lit.

But her eyes weren’t on the phone; they looked past the screen’s edge at that “One” on the wall.

Then, as if afraid of being caught, she forced herself to look back at her phone.

Coming back from the theater.

Today Su Nian had gone to test the venue one last time—the final time.

The 800-person venue was empty, only the work lights on.

She stood on stage and danced through the entire routine from start to finish.

No music.

She counted the beats in her head.

Twice.

Three times.

Then.

Stop.

This time, I didn’t make Su Nian practice more.

“Save your energy for tomorrow’s performance, got it?”

Su Nian just nodded.

Her chin bobbed down twice.

She didn’t speak.

Those dark red eyes looked at me.

There was a hint of light in her pupils, but her lips were pressed together, pressed into a thin line.

I figured she understood.

***

Back at the agency.

When the door swung open, the atmosphere was very different from usual.

At this time normally, there would still be sounds from the training room—Su Nian dancing, Shen Wei correcting her beside her, gesturing at moves, Xiao Xi crouching in the corner watching.

Not today.

Silence.

The hallway lights were on, but no one was there.

The training room door was open, empty inside.

The mirror reflected the opposite wall, and on the wall outside the door, that “One” was also in the mirror.

Sounds of water came from the bathroom.

Someone was taking a shower.

***

Living room.

Shen Wei lay on the sofa, phone in hand, but not scrolling.

The screen had long gone dark, and she didn’t tap it.

She just lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Xiao Xi sat on the floor, hugging her knees.

She stared at the coffee table, where a few cups sat, all empty.

Chuxue sat, brewing black tea.

But she didn’t drink.

Just held the cup.

No one spoke.

Only the faint sound of water from the bathroom.

***

The water stopped.

A few minutes later, Su Nian walked out.

Her hair was wet and loose, the ends still dripping, water droplets hitting the floor.

She wore a new T-shirt, the collar a bit loose, revealing one side of her collarbone.

She didn’t go to the living room.

She walked to the training room door.

Stood there, looking at that countdown on the wall.

“One.”

Just a number.

Black.

Empty.

She stared at it for a long time.

Then she spoke.

Her voice was very soft, so soft it sounded like she was talking to herself.

“Twenty days… went by so fast.”

Almost in the blink of an eye—she thought.

Twenty days ago, she’d stood at this same door, looking around nervously, not knowing where to put her hands.

And now? She could dance through an entire song completely.

Push herself, and three songs were possible too.

She could walk through the entire 800-person venue from start to finish, watch herself in the mirror breathing hard, then turn back and keep dancing.

But twenty days… how had they already passed?

She stood there.

Hands at her sides.

Hair still dripping.

Behind her, people gradually gathered.

Shen Wei got up from the sofa and walked over.

Stood beside her, also looking at that number.

Xiao Xi climbed up from the floor and walked over.

Stood beside Shen Wei, also looking at that number.

Chuxue walked over from the wall, stood at the back, also looking at that number.

They were all looking.

At Su Nian, and at the countdown.

Su Nian felt someone behind her.

But she didn’t turn around.

She just stood there.

After another moment.

Shen Wei reached out and grabbed Su Nian’s wrist.

“Let’s go.”

Su Nian was pulled by her, took two steps.

Then started walking on her own.

Xiao Xi followed, walking on Su Nian’s other side.

The three of them walked into the living room.

Chuxue stood in place, not moving.

She watched the three figures disappear around the hallway corner.

Then turned her head, looking at the training room.

Empty.

She was looking for someone.

For him—Lin Zou.

But she didn’t find him.

She stood for two seconds.

Then she left too.

***

Living room.

Everyone had showered.

They sat in their usual spots.

Su Nian sat on the cushion, hugging her water bottle.

Her hair was loose, still dripping.

Shen Wei lay on the sofa, legs draped over the armrest.

Xiao Xi sat on the floor, leaning against the sofa leg.

Chuxue was there too—same as usual.

But earlier than usual.

Because I suggested resting early tonight.

Let Su Nian watch her favorite Gemstone Princess.

— The TV was on.

The screen showed a 20,000-person venue.

The lights were dim.

Only a single spotlight shone on that person.

Alice.

She stood on stage.

Pink twin-tails, glitter eyeshadow, a white dress.

The hem hung down, crimson gauze faintly reflecting the light.

She stood there.

Not moving.

Just standing.

But the entire venue was waiting for her.

Below the stage was a pink ocean.

Twenty thousand lightsticks, twenty thousand points of light, all aimed at her.

The intro played.

She began to sing.

Her debut song—”Sparkling.”

[The person in the mirror looks a little unfamiliar.]

Her voice was softer than usual.

Slower than usual.

Every word dragged a little at the tail, languid.

But her movements—

Raise arm.

Turn.

Hold.

Every move was just right.

Not a hair more, not a hair less.

The height of her arm raise, the angle of her turn, the tilt of her body when holding her pose—all precise, all perfect.

As if she’d been born on stage.

As if the stage were a part of her.

Su Nian stared at the screen.

Eyes unblinking.

The water bottle hugged in her arms, forgotten to drink.

***

After the song ended, the audience below was still filled with praise.

“That was amazing!”

“Great today too!”

“We want more! Encore—!”

Even though some encores mixed in, at least it wasn’t too obvious.

So I planned to go off stage early—after all, there was tomorrow’s joint performance with “Snow Girl.”

Saving some energy was only right.

But—not everyone thought the same.

On stage, suddenly another person appeared.

Walking up from the side stage.

A figure in red.

Tall.

Long hair.

A fiery red dress—not the kind of light, floaty gauze, but a heavy fabric that barely swayed as she walked.

She walked to the center of the stage, standing next to Alice.

Smiled at the audience.

Then spoke.

Her voice came through the TV, clear, with a hint of rasp.

“How about we perform together?”

The audience was silent for a second.

Then someone shouted.

“Flame Queen—!!!”

“It’s Yan—!!!”

Flame Queen was a title earned last year.

Her name was on today’s schedule, originally set to perform after me.

So some of the audience were her fans too.

Comments scrolled across the top of the screen, dense and illegible.

She continued.

Speaking to Alice.

To the person standing at center stage, still not fully recovered from the last song.

“Since you can perform with ‘Snow Girl,’ why can’t you perform with me?”

Her voice wasn’t loud.

But it was clear.

She smiled.

It wasn’t a request.

It was an invitation.

“I’m willing to give up a bit of my performance time.”

—But it felt more like a plea.

Alice stood there.

Looking at her.

The next song would start any second.

Two seconds.

—That was the time she had to think.

In two seconds, she had to speak.

***

In front of the agency’s TV.

Four pairs of eyes were glued to the screen—

The Alice inside opened her mouth.