Xu Nuo’s singing skills were, admittedly, pretty ckluster. His original body was a total scrub—barely a level-five fighter—and even with his past-life techniques, he’d only just scraped into beginner territory.

  Beginner level was about “neighborhood karaoke king” status—decent to the average person, but nothing to show off in front of pros.

  Luckily, it was a new song performed at a graduation ga. The audience didn’t have high expectations for vocal prowess.

  “Now, having walked through this world,

  Lingering over countless sights,

  Passing by the different faces of time,

  I’m caught off guard by your sudden smile…”

  Xu Nuo tried mimicking JJ Lin’s high notes. Predictably, he didn’t quite hit them, and his voice cracked a little.

  Backstage, Zhang Feng, who’d been on edge, suddenly calmed down. The song’s youthful vibe washed over him, pulling him back to his own teenage days.

  Yang Haonan shot to his feet, clenching his fists and staring toward the stage, lost in thought. Memories of Xiao Fang, Xiao Wei, Xiao Jing, Xiao Jia—girls who’d once haunted his dreams—fshed through his mind.

  Lin Wanqing stepped closer to the stage’s edge, as if wanting to hear more clearly.

  Even with just a guitar for accompaniment, the song’s quality exceeded her expectations.

  The lyrics and composition were near-perfect.

  Well, except for the singing.

  The audience below fell dead silent as Xu Nuo sang softly onstage.

  Those checking their phones or chatting stopped cold. No one spoke, afraid to disrupt him.

  The livestream’s popurity skyrocketed, surpassing even the peak when Lin Wanqing sang with Xu Nuo backing her up.

  The song was a perfect pick. Graduation season, Modu Media’s ga, countless graduates in the crowd—it was a tribute to their fleeting, irreversible youth.

  With “The Wind Rises,” Xu Nuo’s clear voice spun a boy’s tale, stirring up those small, overlooked loves and emotions from youth, draping them in the grandeur of time and the nobility of life.

  The audience was spellbound, as if scenes from the song unfolded before their eyes.

  The lyrics were poetic, the meaning profound, the voice ethereal—striking straight to the heart, pulling them back through their past.

  Who doesn’t miss that summer?

  The chorus pushed Xu Nuo’s limits, but his breath control held up, and he powered through.

  The surrounding lights dimmed, a single beam spotlighting him, making him the stage’s sole focus. In that moment, he seemed to glow.

  As he kept singing, the graduates below couldn’t hold back tears, waving their glow sticks instinctively, swaying to his rhythm.

  The livestream’s viewership soared, but the barrage of comments thinned out.

  Both the live crowd and online viewers wanted to pour every ounce of focus into the song.

  Xu Nuo’s eyes reddened as he gestured to the audience.

  Thunderous appuse erupted, cheers and screams filling the air.

  “The evening breeze lifts the white hair at your temples,

  Smoothing the scars left by memories,

  Your eyes, a mix of light and shadow, bloom with a smile…

  Twilight hides your faltering steps,

  You slip toward the painting tucked by the bed,

  In it, you speak with your head bowed…”

  Xu Nuo’s voice was tender yet firm, switching between head and falsetto, striking deep into the listeners’ hearts.

  The students below waved their glow sticks like mad, as if it were the only way to vent the surging emotions inside.

  Backstage, Zhang Feng’s eyes welled up. He wiped them roughly with the back of his hand, touching the white strands at his temples, unconsciously humming along.

  “Dean, the livestream numbers just now—”

  He was cut off mid-sentence. “Later,” Zhang Feng said.

  “Oh.”

  Yang Haonan punched the air. That sly dog Xu Nuo had been holding out on them.

  Lin Wanqing tilted her head back, fighting tears.

  She still had a performance ter—crying would ruin her makeup, and that’d be a disaster.

  Who’d have thought this guy wasn’t just a guitarist but could write something this good?

  For the first time, Lin Wanqing found herself genuinely curious about a guy.

  Onstage, Xu Nuo reached the end.

  His voice softened, tinged with nostalgia: “In the name of love, are you still willing?”

  The music faded, and Xu Nuo bowed slightly in thanks.

  The audience sat in stunned silence for a full ten seconds.

  Then, a single cp broke the spell. The crowd snapped awake, erupting into appuse that wouldn’t stop.

  “Encore!”

  “So good!”

  “I’m willing!”

  “Xu Nuo!”

  “Xu Nuo!”

  “Xu Nuo!”

  The screams eventually synced into a unified chant of his name.

  Xu Nuo bowed again. “Thanks for the love, everyone. There’s more to come—next up, enjoy the skit ‘Favoritism.’”

  He hurried offstage, handing it over to the next act.

  But the audience was still lost in his song, buzzing with cssmates about it, barely paying attention to the skit.

  Backstage, Xu Nuo didn’t even get a breather before he was mobbed.

  Yang Haonan charged up, pounding his chest. “You sneaky bastard! When’d you write that?”

  “Ahem, just recently. Graduation’s coming up, so I got inspired.”

  “Xiao Xu, you’re incredible! Hosting was fwless, and now singing too!” Zhang Feng spped his shoulder hard, beaming with pride.

  “It’s alright, I guess. Didn’t embarrass you, Dean, right?”

  “Embarrass? No way!” Someone shoved a phone at him. “The livestream peaked at 500,000 just now!”

  Zhang Feng’s grin widened. He grabbed the phone, then smacked Xu Nuo so hard he stumbled. “Xiao Xu’s the hero this time!”

  “Just doing my part,” Xu Nuo said modestly, slinging off the guitar and colpsing into a chair.

  Yang Haonan handed him a water bottle, thoughtfully unscrewed.

  Xu Nuo gnced at him, took it, and chugged. Suddenly, a pair of long, pale legs appeared in his vision—irresistible enough to make anyone look up.

  He didn’t need to lift his head to know it was Lin Wanqing. Recognizing someone by their legs—a pervy skill he’d mastered. What would those legs look like in bck stockings?

  Lost in daydreams, Yang Haonan coughed and nudged him with a kick.

  Xu Nuo looked up, fshing a bright smile. “Senior, something up?”

  “Your name’s…”

  “Xu Nuo.”

  “Hm. That song was great. Really well-written. You wrote it yourself?”

  “Yeah,” Xu Nuo nodded shamelessly.

  Lin Wanqing didn’t seem great at small talk either, and they psed into silence.

  Yang Haonan jumped in. “Xu Nuo, aren’t you a huge fan of Senior Lin? Here’s your chance—get her autograph!”

  Xu Nuo thought, Since when am I her fan? If not for this ga, I wouldn’t even know her.

  “I’ve got a pen and notebook,” Yang Haonan said, shoving them at him when he didn’t respond.

  “Senior, could you sign something for me?”

  Lin Wanqing nodded, took the pen and paper, and scribbled her name.

  While she signed, Yang Haonan piped up, “Senior, Xu Nuo’s, like, super into you. He even secretly practiced that song you sang today—the one he pyed for.”

  “???” Xu Nuo shot him a look. Secretly practiced? Without the system, I wouldn’t have even heard it.

  Yang Haonan winked furiously.

  “Really?” Lin Wanqing’s airy voice chimed in.

  “Yeah, totally! I love your songs,” Xu Nuo said, nodding like crazy.

  “Which ones do you like?”

  Uh-oh, she wasn’t following the script. Xu Nuo’s eyes begged Yang Haonan for help.

  “He’s obsessed with your song ‘The Oath,’” Yang Haonan jumped in as his mouthpiece.

  “Right, right!”