The KR Game Expo was held at the end of August.

It took place in Jiujiang, adjacent to Zhengcheng where Chunan lived. The drive between them was under an hour.

This was why Chunan bought a house in Zhengcheng. Zhengcheng wasn’t a major city—by his previous world’s standards, it was barely third-tier. Though development had started recently, true prosperity would take years. Housing prices stayed low, letting him, fresh out of university, afford the down payment.

Jiujiang, however, was one of the nation’s most vibrant megacities, matching a top-tier city from his last life. No wonder the expo was held there.

Chunan seemed content on the surface, but ambition simmered within. Living near Jiujiang felt almost like residing in a first-tier urban village. He could attend big events, and if he made a name, he might even move there.

Both worlds shared this truth: only a handful of megacities offered real opportunities.

Days before the expo, Chunan copied a song for Xiaohan in his library. Titled "Leap," it was a wildly popular youth anthem from his previous world. To him, it fit Xiaohan’s style—at least her outwardly girlish image.

He blamed the song’s origin on "the system." Even if he confessed his past life, Xiaohan would likely laugh it off as a joke.

He also brushed up on old skills like guitar and piano. In his last life, he’d learned them for his first crush—his initial unrequited love.

He’d forgotten that girl’s face and voice now. Only her words lingered, and the years he’d foolishly strived for them:

"Boys who love music are the most charming!"

Hearing that by chance, he’d instantly vowed to become a musician. It was his chuunibyou phase, fueled by shonen anime. He believed life demanded conviction—giving your all to avoid regrets, like for love.

So he mastered guitar, piano, and started other instruments.

Until he saw his crush enter a hotel with a tall, rich, handsome classmate.

He was eighteen that year, newly adult, but his first love was buried.

His unshown musical talent died with it.

Now, revisiting those skills, bittersweet memories surfaced. Nostalgia washed over him.

Youth truly stirred the deepest emotions.

No wonder "Leap" had resonated so widely before.

Sadly, he’d never feel that innocent youth again.

Tch.

Xiaohan was shocked when she learned he played guitar too. She’d never seen him practice—yet after just two days with her instrument, his skill surpassed hers.

Chunan called it "natural talent."

And it was. Skills faded without use, even in games. For guitar, untouched for years, regaining it in days impressed even himself.

Xiaohan felt inwardly unbalanced.

"Since you’re so gifted, why not become an idol yourself?"

Chunan rolled his eyes. "If I had your body, I’d be an idol fishing for simps by now. Not everyone’s as unambitious as you, wanting to be kept."

"…Isn’t it because I’m your assistant that I live here? What do you mean ‘no ambition’?!" Xiaohan protested.

Chunan pointed at the door. "I never forced you to stay. Go make your own name—I won’t stop you."

Xiaohan fell silent.

Only a fool would struggle outside with such a comfortable kept life.

But this didn’t mean she lacked ambition—she’d simply chosen the better option!

Besides, as a lone girl now… what if bad men tried to assault her? Staying with Chunan was just for a trustworthy bodyguard.

Yes, that was it.

She convinced herself.

Chunan didn’t know her thoughts. He was picking her outfit for later.

Tomorrow was the KR Game Expo. First, he needed Xiaohan to sing "Leap."

Not a studio recording—they lacked the setup. He’d film a video and use the expo to pitch to entertainment companies.

Good wine needs no bush, but spreading its scent could take years. A company’s promotion would multiply the effect.

Xiaohan watched from the bed as he rummaged through the wardrobe. After a while, he pulled out a set—a JK uniform—and tossed it at her head. "Change."

Xiaohan yanked the clothes down, squinting at him. "Is this really necessary?"

Playing guitar was one thing. Wearing this…

She’d bought it online days ago. The seller’s photos looked lovely, but the real thing resembled lingerie—the skirt so short it barely covered her underwear. After one try, she’d stuffed it away.

Now he wanted her to sing in it…

"What does it matter? Only I’m here," Chunan said casually. "I’ve seen all of you. Since when are you shy?"

Xiaohan’s lips twitched. "Aren’t you filming? Won’t others see?"

"I won’t shoot below your skirt. Relax." He set up the camera, leaving the rest unsaid.

He’d never let others glimpse her like this. Of course, he could look himself.

Xiaohan slowly changed in front of him, then grabbed the guitar. She stared at Chunan behind the camera, expression stiff. "Start now?"

"Mm. Start." He adjusted the angle, ensuring nothing inappropriate showed, then gave an OK sign.

Xiaohan strummed twice, took a deep breath, and focused. Just as she began, Chunan cut in: "Wait. Your expression’s wrong."

"…What expression?"

"Like your first time. Blush a little. Show that innocent, love-struck girl feeling. Youth—you know?"

"…"

She’d blushed then from his gaze. After intense training, she’d grown immune. Just pretend he’s a radish. No big deal.

She’d almost recaptured that feeling.

His interruption shattered it. His stare intensified, reviving her old shame.

"Ah, yes! Exactly like that! Sing!" Chunan clapped, satisfied.

A shy maiden—just watching was a delight…

Xiaohan: "…"

She didn’t want to sing anymore.