"Why wasn’t this mentioned during rehearsals? Blocking the stage with the piano like this means the audience below won’t see anything, and the lighting setup will be ruined too."
The supervising teacher was clearly unhappy about hiding Li Mo behind the curtain while she played. She listed a dozen reasons—but her real goal was simple: Li Mo needed to be seen.
Students had creative freedom within reason, but this wasn’t what they’d practiced. The teacher didn’t outright refuse; she gently steered them away. Ultimately, it was their choice.
"Thank you all—"
*Applause erupted.*
Reality gave them no time to decide. They’d delayed too long. The previous act had already ended. As performers bowed and the audience clapped, stage lights dimmed. The hosts stepped forward. With no instructions to wait or change plans, stagehands sprinted onstage to clear props. The comedy set vanished—and the piano slid center stage.
Thankfully, modern pianos had casters. Otherwise, moving it would’ve been impossible.
"Done." The lead stagehand announced proudly to the lighting crew. The spotlights flared on. The hosts began their transition speech—for the umpteenth time. Li Mo and Tang Zhe had no choice now. They had to go on.
*D-D-D-D-Damn it—*
"You okay…?" Tang Zhe whispered. He’d expected nerves, not this level of panic.
How could a grown man develop a phobia from drunkards? Pathetic.
"I-I-I—"
Yeah. Not okay.
"*Sigh*…" Tang Zhe shook his head helplessly. "Wanna forfeit?"
He kept his voice low. If others heard, they’d shut it down before Li Mo could answer.
"It’s… fine. I’ve got this."
Bailing now would be worse—social suicide plus the coward label. Li Mo figured: *Might as well die comfortably.*
"Then this."
While the hosts rambled under thousands of eyes, Tang Zhe dragged the piano sideways by its casters. He angled it so Li Mo could sit partially shielded behind it.
"Like this." He checked with her. "I’ll stand in front to block you. Just keep your head down and play. Don’t look up."
"...Thanks."
*That’s exactly why I can’t look up!*
One glance at Tang Zhe now, and she’d faint.
"Next up—"
"Time to go."
"Okay."
As the hosts announced them, they walked onstage—one after the other.
"*Ooooh—*"
*Applause crashed.*
Their class whooped loudest. Tang Zhe bowed gracefully. Li Mo mimicked him stiffly, eyes glued to the floor. Only when seated behind the piano did her shoulders relax.
True to his word, Tang Zhe stood directly before her. He blocked the center audience’s view of her—but who cared? As long as she stayed calm.
Her fingers pressed the first key. Steady. No tremble.
They’d picked this piece for its simplicity—both were rusty. It always felt a little… *gay*. But now…
She risked a glance upward, past her nerves.
Tang Zhe stood focused, bow gliding across violin strings. Already lost in the music.
*Beautiful.*
She kept stealing looks at his deepening immersion. The rhythm felt familiar. *Yeah…*
No regrets about this song now.
A smile tugged her lips. She sank into the melody—and the silhouette before her.
*I know this is messed up. I know nothing can ever happen. You’ll never know how I feel. But this Salut d’Amour…*
*Let me secretly dedicate it to you.*
"...So beautiful..."
Liu Shishi had somehow slipped to the stage wings. She’d snapped countless photos.
She’d seen every tiny gesture too.
*This is what youthful, secret love looks like. So sweet.*
Her heart ached with sugar.
Who’d guess this "delinquent boy" was actually such a tender creature? Pouring her heart out through music for the boy she loved.
If only their circumstances…
*Ah! Damn it!*
*Bittersweet.*
*Applause thundered.*
"*YEAH—*"
The piece ended unnoticed. Routine clapping swelled—drowned by their class’s rowdy cheers.
They didn’t understand the music. But shipping Li Mo’s cross-dressing? Absolutely.
"Thank you."
They took the mic from the host, bowed again. This time, Li Mo’s movement felt natural.
The calm lingered… briefly. Then reality hit.
She hadn’t shown it. Hadn’t even felt it. But her back was slick with cold sweat.
*So damn scary!*
*Never doing this again!*
Only now did true panic surge. Worse—Tang Zhe’s presence had shaken her deeper. Lost in the music, her emotions had run wild. Remembering her thoughts onstage…
*Oh my god. Who was that lovesick schoolgirl?! Mortifying!*
"I—I’m changing first!"
Before anyone could speak, Li Mo snatched her clothes bag and bolted. She fled the auditorium, dashed to the restroom, and repeated her morning ritual of splashing water on her face. Only then did she emerge.
"Wow. Straight out of the men’s restroom again."
Liu Shishi leaned against the hallway wall, waiting. She slung an arm around Li Mo’s shoulders, grinning slyly. "Saw your lovesick face onstage. Finally admitting it?"
"...No."
Li Mo didn’t shrug her off this time. She just gave a bitter smile.
"You wouldn’t understand. I… don’t deserve him."
But she’d made peace with it: "This is fine. Until we part ways in a few months… stealing glances at his back is enough."
