Chapter 80: A Chance That Was Not by Chance

All things may seem random, yet each has its destined fate.

To Cheng Xiaoyu, his encounter with Duanmu Linsha and Zuo Yan was pure chance; but in Duanmu Linsha’s eyes, it was inevitable. They were all in Shanghai, all aspiring to attend the theatre academy, all piano majors—everything conspired to ensure their paths would cross.

When Duanmu Linsha saw Cheng Xiaoyu walking ahead of her toward the conservatory’s examination site, her heart raced wildly. Even though the person before her had absolutely nothing to do with being handsome.

She was an administrator of the “Guilty Crown” fan forum and the owner of the “Dragon Gate Inn” forum. During winter break, a boy who liked her sent her a video via QQ, saying, “The lead singer of this band looks a bit like you—only your hair is longer.” Linsha clicked the video and immediately heard the song “Hypnosis”; it struck the deepest chord within her heart.

She asked that boy for more songs from “Guilty Crown,” and he gave her the forum address. Seeing the name “Guilty Crown,” she was reminded of the stunning performance at the New Year’s arts gala.

She watched every video on the forum in one sitting, unable to contain her enthusiasm for each song. Her favorite, by far, was Cheng Xiaoyu’s solo performance of “Dragon Gate Inn”—she was utterly in love with it. The desolate, dreamy timbre of his voice and the melodic lines of his guitar made it impossible for her to escape.

This was music, she thought, gazing at the video of him calmly plucking the guitar strings, the rhythm intoxicating her.

Duanmu Linsha immediately registered as a forum member; later, she joined the group chat created by the forum chief. As she grew familiar with the chief, she learned he was close friends with Cheng Xiaoyu. She probed for more details and discovered he, like her, studied piano, mastered many instruments—guitar, bass, drums—composed all the music himself, and was also a poet.

The forum chief was none other than Wang Ou. As a veteran enthusiast, it was typical of him to claim the “Guilty Crown” forum; he only regretted not being able to trademark the name.

As Cheng Xiaoyu’s self-proclaimed number one fan, her daily routine was to start her morning by watching his performance of “Dragon Gate Inn,” play all the “Guilty Crown” songs on her computer with their poor video and audio quality, and always keep a copy of “Surge” in her backpack.

From childhood, Linsha had excelled in every respect and was the pride of her family; now she felt she was becoming a bit of an obsessed fangirl. Unlike most “Guilty Crown” fans, who adored Xia Shamo, she alone was devoted to Cheng Xiaoyu.

She silently took pride in this, never recommending him to others, secretly hoping the fewer people liked Cheng Xiaoyu, the happier she would be. When talking music with friends, she would name him as her favorite, watch their puzzled faces, and feel a smug satisfaction, never bothering to explain.

Each day, she listened to his songs, holding a little happiness inside, like a squirrel storing nuts in its cheeks, imagining Cheng Xiaoyu as her own personal idol.

To her, the talented Cheng Xiaoyu was unique, a special existence unsullied by the common world. Yet paradoxically, after establishing the “Dragon Gate Inn” forum, she was delighted with every new member—feeling a silent kinship: you like what I like, you have taste.

When she learned Cheng Xiaoyu also studied piano, she began to look forward to this day, believing she would meet him.

Today proved to be her lucky day—she actually saw Cheng Xiaoyu in the exam room at the theatre academy.

He knew nothing of her, but she knew everything about him on the surface. After her relentless prayers, fate finally answered: he was assigned to exam room six, just like her.

Duanmu Linsha quietly followed him; as he entered the classroom from the front, she slipped in from the back and sat behind him, watching him annotate scores, listen to others play, and even sleep. She felt a strange sense of joy—he wasn’t good-looking, a bit chubby, but she found him adorable, especially those eyes—not large, but deep and bright as the stars, with a serene aura as though he’d never known fear or anxiety.

Linsha couldn’t help but want to be closer to his life. After the exam ended at noon, she called her best friend, who was also taking the test, to accompany her in tailing Cheng Xiaoyu. Her friend thought she was crazy—a beautiful girl stalking a boy. More outrageous, at Linsha’s insistence, they even approached Cheng Xiaoyu to share a table.

Everything was going smoothly for Linsha—until He Mingzhe appeared.

He Mingzhe could be considered Linsha’s senior; both studied piano under Professor Li Yunling. He Mingzhe was now a sophomore at the theatre academy, a favored student of Li Yunling, and Linsha’s neighbor—childhood companions, in fact.

They both grew up in the government’s second compound, though Linsha was always quiet, practicing piano at home, rarely seen in the courtyard. He Mingzhe, meanwhile, was the leader among the younger kids.

In sixth grade, he accidentally broke Linsha’s window while playing soccer with friends. His father dragged him to apologize, and in the living room, he saw Linsha, like a porcelain doll, quietly playing the black piano. He was utterly captivated, experiencing the stirrings of first love.

He went home demanding to learn piano. His father, a mid-level official, naturally supported his mischievous son’s interest, but He Mingzhe insisted on studying with Linsha’s teacher. His father sought out Duanmu Jingchi for help, and from then on, He Mingzhe embarked on a long piano journey, gradually drawing closer to Linsha.

Yet, after all these years, their relationship remained simply that of fellow students under Li Yunling. He Mingzhe strove to be outstanding, to gain everyone’s approval, but he failed to realize that Linsha, beneath her calm and proud exterior, rejected conventional values and harbored a rebellious spirit.

To Linsha, He Mingzhe was simply mundane. She often watched him with a cold smile as he used little tricks to win favor from teachers and elders, pretending to approach her casually in hopes of gaining her recognition. This only made her find him increasingly bothersome, and she began to avoid him, consciously or otherwise.

He Mingzhe mistook this fluctuating distance for a test of love, a romantic game.

This elusive love only deepened his obsession; his years of persistence had moved himself, not Linsha. He believed his one-sided devotion was love’s greatness and glory, never considering whether it was reciprocated.

He Mingzhe knew Linsha was auditioning today and texted her early, inviting her to lunch. Her reply: “We’ll see.”

After two classes, he went to find Linsha at the exam hall. Since Cheng Xiaoyu had left a bit early, Linsha followed suit, and thus they narrowly missed each other.

He Mingzhe tried calling and texting Linsha again, but received no response. Left with no choice, he waited until noon, then asked his beloved teacher, Li Yunling, to help locate Linsha.

Li Yunling was well aware of her student’s feelings and thought the two were a perfect match in talent and family background—not to mention both were her favorites. Naturally, she was happy to help.

Linsha hadn’t expected He Mingzhe to ask the teacher for help. She replied to Li Yunling, saying she was at the Mona Lisa Western Restaurant just outside the school gate.

He Mingzhe arrived in high spirits.

——————— Divider ———————

At this moment, Cheng Xiaoyu felt rather awkward sitting here. He had no idea what kind of relationship existed between Linsha and He Mingzhe. From He Mingzhe’s expression, he guessed they might be quarreling lovers; from Linsha’s expression, they seemed like strangers. Fearing being caught in the crossfire, he said to Linsha, “Should I change seats so your friend can sit?”

He Mingzhe was about to thank Cheng Xiaoyu, but Linsha hurriedly clarified, “I have nothing to do with him, don’t misunderstand.”

He Mingzhe’s face turned from pale to green at these words; he couldn’t believe that after all these years—if not for his achievements, at least for his efforts—Linsha would slap him in the face like this in front of a stranger, especially one who looked like a foolish, chubby guy.

Cheng Xiaoyu, unaware that he had just been caught in the crossfire, felt sympathy for He Mingzhe, but knew emotions couldn’t be forced. Besides, he was unfamiliar with both parties and saw no need to interfere. He simply replied, “Oh,” and said no more.

He Mingzhe stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do. His pride wouldn’t let him leave in disgrace; he felt that if he left now, he’d lose the right to pursue Linsha forever. Looking at Cheng Xiaoyu, seated in the middle of the sofa, he asked, “Hey, are you classmates with Linsha?”

Cheng Xiaoyu shook his head. “No, we just met.” This statement dealt another thousand points of emotional damage to He Mingzhe.

He Mingzhe couldn’t understand why Linsha was suddenly treating him this way—though she’d never been close, she had at least been polite. Today, she was openly humiliating him. He could only turn to Cheng Xiaoyu, “Hey, could you let me have your seat?”

Cheng Xiaoyu saw the waiter had just brought his steak, so he replied, “Just a moment, I’ll finish eating and then leave.”

He Mingzhe stopped the waiter who was about to leave and asked, “Excuse me, are there any other seats available?” He hoped Cheng Xiaoyu could move elsewhere.

The waiter replied, “Sorry, sir, there are currently no seats available.”

He Mingzhe, feeling frustrated with the day’s string of bad luck, said, “Then please add an extra seat here.”

The waiter nodded, “Certainly, please wait a moment.”

Linsha was even more annoyed—her chance to speak with Cheng Xiaoyu ruined by He Mingzhe, who stubbornly refused to leave. His persistence, to her, was just shameless and oblivious.

Once the waiter brought a chair for He Mingzhe, he sat down, noticed Cheng Xiaoyu’s exam admission card, and laughed—now addressing him as “classmate” instead of “brother.” “Classmate, you’re auditioning for piano performance too? Linsha and I’s teacher is Li Yunling, head of the piano department. If you get in, you’ll be my junior. Good luck.” He Mingzhe, convinced Cheng Xiaoyu posed no threat, spoke warmly but with a hint of boastfulness—highlighting both his closeness to Linsha and his prestigious academic background.

Cheng Xiaoyu felt no ill will toward He Mingzhe, but thought Linsha was a bit too harsh—no matter her feelings, there was no need to embarrass him. He smiled and replied, “I’m not sure if I’ll make it, just trying my luck. If I do get in, I hope you’ll look after me, senior.”

Linsha, though she’d never heard Cheng Xiaoyu play piano, believed his skills must be exceptional. She spoke softly, “Brother Xiaoyu, you’re so talented—there’s no way you won’t get in. Good luck. I believe in you.”

He Mingzhe had never seen Linsha speak to anyone with such gentle warmth; jealousy burned within him as he glanced at Cheng Xiaoyu, convinced he couldn’t be a rival, thinking he had simply offended his dream girl by accident. His attitude toward Cheng Xiaoyu shifted from indifference to annoyance.