As the car rolled slowly forward, pedestrians thickened around us. I caught snippets of excited chatter spreading like wildfire—soon, a rising commotion swirled through the square as gasps and cheers erupted from the far end of the street.

I also heard it: music drifting closer… from the other side of the plaza?

Judging by the buzz, was there an open-air concert nearby? Not surprising—New Century Square was the city’s liveliest commercial hub, where public gigs and charity shows happened all the time.

*Dun-dun, oh! Dun-dun, oh—dun-dun, oh, dun-dun—*

Guitar strums, piano melodies, vocal harmonies… even the truck’s roaring engine flooded my ears! This rhythm… so familiar!

It wasn’t just me. Nearby onlookers froze mid-step, heads snapping toward the source of the clamor.

In the distance, after Cheng Shun’s car rounded the corner, a makeshift stage came into view on the plaza’s far side—a roaming band’s open-air truck stage!

Perched atop the truck was a full performance crew. And the lead vocalist? None other than Wang Yida himself—the rapper who’d skyrocketed to fame thanks to that hit variety show!

On the wide plaza avenue, fans who recognized him erupted into screams:

“Look! It’s Wang Yida, the underground rap emperor of the Southeast District!”

“Why’s he here? Was there an announcement?!”

“Doesn’t seem like it! Wow, we hit the jackpot!” I gasped, eyes wide.

Huh?! Wang Yida’s performing *today*?! As his fan, how did I miss this completely?!

Around me, faces lit with the same stunned joy—they hadn’t known either.

“Hello, everyone!”

His familiar, magnetic voice boomed through mics and speakers, reaching every ear on the street.

Center stage, he held the mic with effortless poise, flashing a dazzling, charismatic smile while waving to the crowd.

“Everyone! Last-minute arrangement by the company! Our band’s here to sing for you!”

*Company? Wait… Wang Yida’s label… isn’t that Chengyu Culture?*

“Let’s go.”

The girl stepped out first. I followed nervously, eyes still glued to the stage.

I really wanted to see him up close—maybe even snag an autograph. He *was* my favorite rapper.

People kept glancing our way (blame my flashy maid outfit and the demon girl beside me—breathtakingly beautiful). But most eyes stayed locked on the stage, cheering wildly for their idol.

While he greeted the crowd, the band wrapped up the intro. He took a deep breath, mic raised at the plaza’s heart—ready to sing.

*That song!* The intro alone told me the title… but the name stuck in my throat, joy too sharp to speak.

Even more startling: Wang Yida, bathed in the plaza’s spotlight, seemed to lock eyes with me through the crowd…

Hm? (I tilted my head.)