A wave of sudden realization—*Ah, so that’s how it is!*—rippled through the crowd.

Though only some attendees were fans who’d come specifically for this event, many were industry insiders. Still, *Your Lie in April* had blown up so massively that nearly everyone had seen it. Plenty were even loyal fans of Zhou Shuren, sharing that universal curiosity about the author’s face.

And now—Zhou Shuren stood before them: poised, elegant, radiating literary grace. She matched the image they’d dreamed of night after night… no, she *surpassed* it. Perfect beyond imagination.

“Real or fake?”

“Pulling our leg?”

“Is this even possible??”

Whispers of awe spread like wildfire through the seats.

“Sorry I’m late,” Luo Xiaolu said.

“Not late at all—you’re perfectly on time!” Xiong Er chuckled, guiding her inward.

Reporters instantly swarmed, cameras flashing. Young men in the audience forgot decorum, leaping up just to glimpse her.

All eyes locked on Luo Xiaolu.

She *was* the star of the day.

A veteran of grand stages, she felt no nerves.

Still, the sheer attention made her cheeks warm. She offered a polite, slight smile—a quiet thank-you.

*Critical hit.*

An explosive AOE charm blast.

A chorus of “Ah, I’m dead!” erupted.

Inside the hall, Luo Xiaolu settled into the front-row VIP seat. To her right sat her editor, Lv Ye.

“Um… Teacher Lv Ye? What are you doing?”

Luo Xiaolu turned to find Lv Ye staring intently, eyes bright, grinning with pure delight. Luo Xiaolu felt a flicker of fluster.

“Ah!” Lv Ye jolted back. “Sorry, Teacher Zhou Shuren! I was just… wondering why you’re wearing a veil today?”

Luo Xiaolu blinked, then remembered the veil.

Well… it looked far more natural than a mask, scarf, or even a Kamen Rider suit. Paired with her white dress? Flawless.

She couldn’t exactly say, *“Too many underworld enemies,”* could she?

“I like dressing this way,” Luo Xiaolu said calmly.

“Oh! Just as I thought!” Lv Ye beamed. “The veil gives you such an ethereal glow, Teacher Zhou Shuren!”

Exactly! When you’re this stunning, *any* reason becomes truth.

Of course a fairy veils her face. Such beauty isn’t for ordinary mortals to gawk at freely. Nothing strange at all!

A suited host took the stage, launching into a passionate speech about this signing being a win-win for all companies—a milestone event. Luo Xiaolu clapped politely with the crowd.

Finally:

“The copyright signing ceremony for *Your Lie in April* begins now!”

“After you, Teacher Zhou Shuren!” Xiong Er gestured with a warm smile.

Luo Xiaolu rose, her signature smile in place. She ascended the small steps.

Her delicate gown trailed softly; ribbons fluttered between her fingers.

So solemn. So sacred. To outsiders, it almost felt like a wedding.

On the table lay the contract. Luo Xiaolu picked up the pen and signed—*Luo Xiaolu*—three characters she’d practiced endlessly for this moment.

Flashbulbs popped wildly below.

She straightened, eyes crinkling in a gentle smile, twirled the ribbons, and spun—a blooming peony in motion.

*So beautiful!*

Thunderous applause. Reporters’ fingers ached from snapping shots. Guests fumbled for phones, hearts racing.

*Today’s the only day a fairy walks among us!*

They’d save these photos to brag forever: *“I saw the real fairy!”*

Those with blurry-phone regrets beat their chests inwardly—*Why did I buy skins instead of a better camera?!*—begging friends for clearer shots.

Per protocol, Luo Xiaolu stepped center stage and shook Xiong Er’s hand.

Chaos erupted.

*That’s… the fairy’s hand?!*

How dare his thick palm grip her delicate fingers so tightly?!

*Damn it!*

If only I’d studied harder… gotten into a top university… become GM…

Not stuck here like a mouse-eyed clerk, snapping photos from the cheap seats!

*“Study hard while young, or regret it when gray.”*

They’d heard that verse since childhood—now, for the first time, it *hurt*.

*Teacher… I get it now. I’m sorry.*

Xiong Er, a thirty-year veteran, frowned at the clamor and sour envy below. *Really? Just a pretty author?*

He glanced at Luo Xiaolu.

*Hmph. Just a—*

Luo Xiaolu met his gaze. The corners of her mouth lifted—*slightly*—into a sweet, gentle smile.

“…”

*SO CUTE!!!*

Xiong Er’s grip tightened instinctively.

The crowd exploded.

*Handshake?! Fine! But gripping like that?! How dare he?!*

Xiong Er shot the audience a smug, triumphant smirk.

“?????”

*Please stop showing off. Life’s hard enough—but when you flaunt *this*… my heart feels stabbed. Tears just fall.*