When Xu Nuo returned, he found Zhang Feng still scratching his head. The dean’s already sparse hair was taking an even worse hit.

  Watching the dean’s scalp grow balder by the second, Xu Nuo couldn’t help but worry he’d suddenly shine with the brilliance of a 10-million-watt bulb.

  “Xiao Xu, got any recommendations for performers?” Zhang Feng asked, desperation creeping in as he resorted to grasping at straws.

  “Uh…” Xu Nuo thought for a moment, then shook his head. “That’s a tough one.”

  With time ticking down, Zhang Feng plopped into a chair, his posture slumping.

  The role of ga organizer had been fiercely contested, and he’d pulled every string to secure it. He’d even insisted on a full livestream, hoping to deliver a standout performance and boost his reputation.

  He could already picture his rivals’ smug, mocking faces if this event went south.

  Zhang Feng sank into a pit of anguished imagination.

  Xu Nuo opened his system interface and was surprised to see his points had jumped to 18,000.

  Hosting the show just now had apparently boosted his popurity quite a bit.

  Gncing at Zhang Feng, Xu Nuo mulled it over, then opened the system and tapped the lottery button.

  [Thank You for Participating]

  “???” Xu Nuo’s anger fred. “System, what the hell? ‘Thank you for participating’?”

  [Ten draws guarantee an item!]

  “…” His mouth twitched.

  [Thank You for Participating]

  Furious enough to flip a table, Xu Nuo went straight for a ten-pull.

  [Congratutions! Host has drawn a wig!]

  [Congratutions! Host has drawn a pair of bck stockings!]

  [Cim now?]

  “???”

  “Is this system even serious?”

  [Lottery results are influenced by the host’s thoughts.]

  “What the heck?!”

  The system’s emotionless voice chimed in: [Just now, the host thought of a wig while inwardly mocking someone’s baldness.]

  [Just now, the host thought of bck stockings while sneaking a peek at someone’s legs.]

  “What the—! I’m warning you, don’t snder me! My upbringing doesn’t condone that kind of behavior!” Xu Nuo shot a nervous gnce at Lin Wanqing.

  [Cim now?]

  “Cim your mom!”

  Xu Nuo fumed. What a trash system! The starter pack gave him a lousy music score, and now the lottery spat out bck stockings and a wig—not a single useful thing.

  “Xiao Xu, what’s wrong?” Zhang Feng’s voice cut in, noticing his shifting expressions.

  “Nothing, Dean. Just thinking about what to do for the next act,” Xu Nuo replied offhandedly, dumping all his remaining popurity points into more draws.

  “Ah, Xiao Xu’s a good kid,” Zhang Feng muttered.

  [Congratutions! Host has drawn ‘The Wind Rises’!]

  [Cim now?]

  Xu Nuo blinked. Okay, this broken system wasn’t totally useless. “Cim it.”

  A cool sensation rushed through his mind, and suddenly, all the details of the song flooded his brain.

  “Dean, how about I give it a shot?”

  Zhang Feng looked up, his face lighting up with surprise. “Xiao Xu can sing too?!”

  Yang Haonan, sitting quietly nearby, paled and nudged Xu Nuo’s shoe, subtly shaking his head.

  “Xu Nuo, don’t joke around,” a friend who knew him chimed in, trying to dissuade him.

  Lin Wanqing opened her eyes and gnced over, curiosity flickering in her gaze.

  “Dean, let me try. It won’t be that bad, at least,” Xu Nuo said, standing up. He borrowed a guitar and tuned it.

  “What song are you singing?”

  “‘The Wind Rises.’”

  “Never heard of it. Original song?”

  “Yeah,” Xu Nuo said, pausing. Pretending it was his own for the first time felt a little awkward.

  No big deal—first time’s rough, but it gets easier with practice.

  Yang Haonan looked like he wanted to say something but held back, staying silent. In his head, he thought, We’re screwed. If no one else steps up, we can just skip it. Xu Nuo’s singing is catchy in a way—it’s loud and sticks with you.

  Lin Wanqing’s beautiful eyes flicked toward him, tinged with curiosity.

  Zhang Feng went quiet for two seconds. He wasn’t one to waffle—otherwise, he wouldn’t have pushed for the livestream.

  But he’d caught the others’ reactions and figured Xu Nuo probably wasn’t much of a singer.

  “Dean, I’ll give it a go. It won’t be too bad,” Xu Nuo repeated, looking at him.

  Zhang Feng straightened up, seemingly resolved. With a wave of his hand, he said, “Alright, go for it. If it’s not great, no pressure.”

  “Got it.” Xu Nuo thought, You’re actually pretty cool, and headed for the stage.

  “Wait—where’s your accompaniment?” Zhang Feng caught the oversight.

  “I wrote it earlier. No backing track—I’ll py and sing myself.”

  “…” Zhang Feng’s mind screamed what the heck.

  Yang Haonan hung his head in shame, covering his face with his hand. His expression gzed over, and he squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.

  Zhang Feng hesitated, watching Xu Nuo take the stage. Clinging to a shred of hope, he turned to Yang Haonan. “Xiao Yang, how’s Xu Nuo’s singing?”

  Yang Haonan froze, reluctant to answer. He unbuttoned two shirt buttons, deliberated for a moment, then carefully said, “Uh, pretty good?”

  “…” Zhang Feng’s spirit sank. You paused for that long just to give me that vague, questioning answer?

  He slumped back in his chair, looking like a 300-pound kid who’d given up on life.

  Yang Haonan opened his mouth to console him but shut it again.

  He knew Xu Nuo’s singing ability better than anyone. Where’d this guy get the guts to perform?

  Sneaking a gnce at Lin Wanqing, he wondered, Is he really doing this because he’s into her?

  Lust makes a man bold—he’s throwing his dignity out the window.

  To be fair, Xu Nuo was pretty handsome. But chasing Lin Wanqing? Tough sell. She had looks, a killer figure, fame, and talent.

  And Xu Nuo? Besides being good-looking, he had nothing going for him.

  Yang Haonan shook his head, silently mourning for his buddy.

  Xu Nuo slung the guitar over his shoulder and strode onto the stage.

  The audience buzzed when they saw him with the guitar. “Yo, the host is back at it?”

  “Give us a song! Give us a song!”

  The vibe was electric. Students loved a spectacle—whoever was performing, as long as it was good, they’d cheer. Li Yingjun? Who cared? Whatever.

  “Thanks to our two amazing performers. Next, I’ll bring you a song called ‘The Wind Rises.’”

  The crowd erupted in appuse, their enthusiasm surging.

  “Never heard of that one,” someone muttered, pulling out their phone to search. No hits.

  “Original?”

  “The host’s that talented? Handsome and a songwriter? Is he catching up to me?”

  “Go pee and check your reflection.”

  Xu Nuo smiled faintly. “That’s right—a little original piece called ‘The Wind Rises,’ dedicated to everyone. It’s about a boy’s journey. May you wander half your life and return still a boy at heart.”

  Originally “Kaze ga Fuku” by Takahashi Yuu, adapted with Chinese lyrics, it carried a unique charm.

  Xu Nuo set up the mic, strummed the guitar, and let the catchy intro ripple out.

  The audience hushed, listening intently.

  The livestream chat exploded with comments, and the viewership started creeping back up.

  Xu Nuo’s clear, crisp voice rang out:

  “Along this road, stopping and starting,

  Following the traces of a少年boy adrift,

  That moment before stepping off the ptform,

  I hesitate, caught off guard…”

  “Not bad?” Zhang Feng jolted upright, unsure if he’d heard right.

  Yang Haonan’s eyes widened. “I think it’s good.”

  Zhang Feng perked up, sitting straighter. He turned to Lin Wanqing. “Xiao Lin, what do you think?”

  “It’s decent,” she said with a slight nod.

  Zhang Feng exhaled in relief. He didn’t know much about singing—just that it sounded nice—so he’d wanted Lin Wanqing’s take.

  The audience’s expressions grew more animated.

  (End of Chapter)