Life-Saving Straw

"What? Next week I have to go to Xiangnan for recording?"

Cai Junhuang hadn't expected the idol competition people to call her with this kind of news.

They were informing her to attend the preliminary round recording.

The talent show was co-hosted by YJJ Entertainment from Korea and a local entertainment company called Tianzhihun.

Because Korean entertainment companies don't have the right to independently hold competitions in China.

So they had to have a domestic company as the organizer.

After the competition, the selected contestants would all go to YJJ Entertainment for training.

After all, Korea's idol training system is still quite solid.

But if Cai Junhuang participated in the competition, she would have to give up the art festival performance.

Because next week was the art festival show.

This wasn't really a difficult choice. Compared to a career-defining talent competition, what was an art festival performance?

So the next morning, Cai Junhuang found Chen Xiaoya.

"That's how it is. I'm going to the competition, so there's no way I can do the performance."

Chen Xiaoya sighed upon hearing this.

She couldn't force her.

Especially since she knew this was about her future, and Cai Junhuang was an art student anyway.

"Fine, fine. I'll talk to them for you. As for taking leave, you need to write me a formal leave slip, and then get my signature."

Not being hassled was already a relief.

Cai Junhuang left the office, but didn't notice that there were other classmates from the class still in there.

So it didn't take long for everyone in the class to find out what was going on.

Cai Junhuang had dropped out of the art festival program, so their class had to find someone else to fill in.

And the school art festival auditions were tomorrow.

There was no time left to rehearse a new act.

But some people said there was no need to rehearse—just show up and be seen.

Right now, besides Cai Junhuang's dance, the only other act Class Eight had signed up was a stand-up comedy routine.

Stand-up comedy was basically a monologue, but performed in Cantonese.

Still, this kind of act was often hard to get past the judges.

Nobody else was very enthusiastic about signing up for anything.

There wasn't even a single singer.

It was hard to imagine—a class with plenty of people who liked singing karaoke, but not a single one willing to perform on stage.

That was just baffling.

"Come on, Old Ma, you know what we're like. Belting out a few songs in KTV is fine, but getting me on stage? Can't handle it."

Several people waved their hands and shook their heads at Ma Ruixiang's persuasion.

None of them wanted to perform.

"It's just going through the motions. It's not like I'm really making you perform at the art festival."

"But the audition stage is packed too! I still want to keep my dating prospects!"

For the first time, Ma Ruixiang felt like being class monitor was this hard.

He went from the front of the classroom to the back, asking everyone, and not a single person was willing.

One person said their throat was sore, another said they were tone-deaf, and one guy just put on headphones to pretend he was asleep, the twitching under his eyelids faster than an EKG.

With no other option, he walked over to Fang Jun.

"Fang Jun, Brother Jun, godfather, do me a favor."

Fang Jun looked at Ma Ruixiang and said reluctantly, "Old Ma, of course I'd want to help you, but I really can't do it."

"Listen to me—"

"Don't even say it. I really can't sing. Last time in KTV, the moment I opened my mouth, the people in the next booth came knocking, asking if we were slaughtering a chicken."

Ma Ruixiang didn't laugh.

He put on a straight face, leaned in half a step, and lowered his voice: "If it weren't for Cai Junhuang bailing out at the last minute, do you think I'd be begging everyone like this? Who's to blame? Cai Junhuang. And who's close to Cai Junhuang? You, Fang Jun. So the blame falls on you."

Fang Jun was momentarily speechless.

It sounded like it made sense, but somehow it didn't feel quite right.

Fang Jun wanted to say that Cai Junhuang had nothing to do with him anymore—they barely even spoke now—so what did "close" mean?

But the words stuck in his throat and didn't come out.

After all, Ma Ruixiang usually had a tough time handling all the big and small stuff, and the way he looked today showed he was really desperate.

Fang Jun was still hesitating when a head suddenly popped up from the side.

Luo Ruiyu had somehow drifted over, her elbow on the desk, chin resting on her hand, her eyes darting between the two of them.

"Falling for what blame? Little Junjun, are you going to perform?"

Ma Ruixiang looked up, staring at Fang Jun with a look that said, "If you dare refuse, I'll tell Luo Ruiyu everything."

Fang Jun wasn't really afraid of Luo Ruiyu knowing, but when he thought about it, Cai Junhuang's mess...

Fine, he'd take the blame. One last time.

At least that's what Fang Jun told himself.

"Alright, I'll do it."

Fang Jun leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the desk. "But let's be clear—if I don't pass the auditions, don't come crying to me."

Ma Ruixiang's wrinkled face instantly relaxed. He slapped Fang Jun on the shoulder, hard enough to make him lurch forward.

"Great. Who cares if you pass or not? I've done my job. I'll bring you the registration form later."

With that, he turned and left, afraid Fang Jun might change his mind, his footsteps quick as if he were fleeing for his life.

Fang Jun watched his back and shook his head.

Why did he have to pay for Cai Junhuang's debt? There was no justice in this world.

Just then, Luo Ruiyu sat down next to him, looking curious.

"So, what's the deal?"

"The art festival act. Cai Junhuang originally signed up, but she's gone. No one to fill in. Ma Ruixiang grabbed me as his last resort."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

Luo Ruiyu let out a laugh. "You sing? Do you think you can do it?"

Fang Jun rolled his eyes. "What do you think?"

"Then how about I sing with you?" Luo Ruiyu said it casually, like suggesting they walk home after school together.

"Come on. It's embarrassing enough for me to go up there alone. No need to drag you down with me."

"Who said it's embarrassing?"

Luo Ruiyu sat up straight. "You've heard me sing before. I've got a bit of foundation, right?"

Fang Jun didn't respond.

Luo Ruiyu definitely could sing. Her voice was low, with a natural texture. Back when she'd hum a tune absentmindedly, people around her would quiet down to listen.

That kind of voice wasn't something you could train—it was a gift from heaven.

Way better than him.

"It's just not necessary," Fang Jun said. "What if we actually get past the auditions? That means performing on the art festival stage in front of thousands of students. Aren't you scared?"

Luo Ruiyu tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. "If you put it that way, are you actually admitting that I'm good enough for the big stage?"

Fang Jun was taken aback. She'd caught him off guard.

"Consider it payback for you helping me transfer schools through Lin Mo earlier," Luo Ruiyu said. "Besides, if you go up alone and mess up, it'd embarrass the whole class. If I go up with you, at least there's a safety net. Think about it—am I right?"