Programs of the Art Festival

The weather turned colder.

It wasn't brutally cold, just the kind of awkward temperature where your hands get chilly in the morning and you're sweating by noon.

After all, this was Yangcheng, and the weather there was notorious for being a torment.

Everyone wore an extra layer under their school blazer—some wore sweaters, others wore hoodies.

Some people even put on thermal long johns, though of course they'd deny it to your face.

Before the morning exercises, Chen Xiaoya called Lin Mo aside to the end of the hallway.

Everyone wore an extra layer under their school blazer.

“Have you thought about the Arts Festival? We didn't have one last year, but we're having one this year.”

“No way, I definitely can't,” Lin Mo said without any room for negotiation, turning her down flat.

“It's actually not that hard.”

“No matter what it is, it's a no. I'm just not into it.”

“If that's the case, forget it then.” Chen Xiaoya didn't push. She waved her hand to tell him to go back.

After all, Lin Mo was a bigshot's bigshot. Chen Xiaoya didn't dare offend him; asking his opinion first was the main point.

Lin Mo went straight back to the classroom.

He had no idea what Chen Xiaoya was thinking. Why come to him for something like the Arts Festival?

He was just an ordinary little math prodigy, nothing special.

After the morning exercises ended, everyone filed back to the classroom one after another.

Chen Xiaoya didn't go back to the office today. Instead, when most people were back, she stood right by the lectern.

The buzzing chatter in the room quieted down a bit but didn't go completely silent. A few guys in the back row were still chatting.

“Let me say something.”

Chen Xiaoya's voice wasn't loud, but everyone who needed to hear it heard it.

“The Arts Festival is coming up. Each class has to put up at least two acts. If anyone's interested, come get a sign-up sheet from me. Singing, dancing, skits, cross-talk, whatever—musical instruments work too.”

The room went quiet for a few seconds.

That typical, collective dead-air silence where everyone pretends not to exist.

Nobody spoke. Nobody raised a hand. A few people started flipping through their textbooks, pretending they'd suddenly developed a deep interest in their studies.

Chen Xiaoya had expected this. She didn't look surprised at all.

She added, "If nobody signs up, I'll just draw lots."

That changed the atmosphere. A few guys in the back who had been playing dead perked up and lifted their heads at once.

“The acts have to go through auditions first. After the prelims, the school reviews them, so don't worry too much about actually having to perform on stage.”

A guy sitting near the window raised his hand and asked bluntly, "What happens if someone just messes around up there?"

Ma Ruixiang didn't wait for Chen Xiaoya to answer; he just turned around.

“Then our Class Eight will be laughed at, and the kid who messed around will become the biggest joke of this year's festival.”

He said it flatly, like he was stating a simple fact.

The guy who asked the question pulled his hand back and shut his mouth.

The Arts Festival was one of those things where it was fine if you got on stage, and fine if you didn't.

First came the auditions, then the school screening, then you'd perform once on Arts Festival day itself, and get scored afterward.

But the reward? Practically nothing.

That's exactly why Chen Xiaoya had thought of Lin Mo. If Lin Mo performed, he'd definitely get picked.

But Lin Mo really didn't want to do it.

If he did magic, he could pull off tricks no one in the audience would ever figure out, and after the crowd's amazement wore off, he'd feel zero sense of accomplishment.

If he sang, he could one hundred percent replicate anyone's voice. But what was the point? No matter how perfect the imitation, it wasn't his own thing.

As for stuff like smashing rocks on your chest, beatboxing, street dance, shadow puppetry—he could do it all at the highest level.

But that would be like overkill, like taking candy from a baby.

Lin Mo played with the pen in his hand, his gaze sweeping the room.

Jiang Yunlu was bent over her desk, writing something, completely indifferent to the Arts Festival announcement.

She'd never liked flashy, public events like this. She was clearly more into competitions.

Chu Miaomiao had her head buried even lower, practically trying to shrink into her desk.

Forget performing on stage—she got nervous enough to go mute whenever the teacher called on her in class.

As for Xie Yuling.

She was drawing circles on her desk with a pen, looking distracted.

No need to even mention her.

“Sign-ups close this Friday.”

Chen Xiaoya ended with that line. “If we don't have enough people by Friday, I really will draw lots. Don't complain then.”

The atmosphere in the room shifted subtly after she said that.

A few people started exchanging glances, engaging in some kind of silent standoff with their eyes.

"You go."

"No, you go first."

"I'm not going, but don't think you're getting off easy."

Lin Mo watched the scene and found it pretty amusing.

Just because he wasn't participating didn't mean he couldn't enjoy the show.

Speaking of performances, Chen Xiaoya had given Ma Ruixiang a few names to ask.

One of them was Cai Junhuang.

Cai Junhuang was an art student, which basically meant she had to sign up.

Last year, Guangba hadn't held an Arts Festival, so this year, they needed the arts students to step up.

Ma Ruixiang went directly to Cai Junhuang. "Hey, Cai Junhuang, put together an act, all right?"

Cai Junhuang shook her head. "Me, go up alone? I only know how to dance, and that won't work by itself."

"What's the problem? In a competition, you dance by yourself all the time. If you don't do this, and later on you get famous and reporters interview you, they'll ask why you never even joined the Arts Festival. How's that gonna look?"

Ma Ruixiang added one more thing.

"Besides, you need to build up stage experience, right? More stage time, the more you practice—that's a good thing."

Under Ma Ruixiang's persistent persuasion, Cai Junhuang agreed to take part in the Arts Festival performance.

It wasn't certain she'd get selected, but if she didn't make the cut, it'd probably end up as an embarrassing memory.

Cai Junhuang felt like she was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

None of the other girls in the class seemed to have training in this sort of thing, so she couldn't find anyone to partner with.

Fine, she'd go solo.

Ma Ruixiang was right—she needed more stage experience.

Even if it was just a cobbled-together Arts Festival.

With one slot filled, Ma Ruixiang's task was half done.

On the other side, Fang Jun and his crew were gathered around Lin Mo.

"Old Mo, just sign up! This time, you can perform that pole guy—like a spaceman!"

Lin Mo rolled his eyes. "You've been watching too much 'Got Talent,' haven't you?"

"Hey, you watched it too! I think that spaceman act was insane—his core strength was unreal. You could definitely pull it off."

Lin Mo could, of course. He wouldn't even need core strength.

"Nah, I can't. This is December, and I need to head back to Tianjing for an international competition."

Once that came up, everyone else backed off.

The Arts Festival was just for fun, but international competitions were actually about winning glory for the country.

None of them wanted to mess up Lin Mo's plans.

So they all dropped it and started pestering other people to join the Arts Festival instead.