The next program is "Kiss Goodbye." I believe everyone has heard this song.
The male host glanced at his cue card and added: "But today's version is a special adaptation."
The female host continued: "Please welcome the performers, from G2 Class Eight, Fang Jun and Luo Ruiyu!"
After the announcement, the two hosts stepped back to the side of the stage.
A ripple of scattered murmurs spread through the audience below.
"'Kiss Goodbye'? My dad plays that song in the car every day."
"No way, are they doing a throwback theme for the school anniversary show?"
"Didn't they say it's an adapted version? Let's hope it doesn't turn into some senior karaoke."
Fang Jun and Luo Ruiyu were practically unknowns.
At least Fang Jun had some recognition across the classes, but Luo Ruiyu was different—she was a new transfer. Apart from her own classmates in Class Eight, hardly anyone outside could match her name to her face.
The lights dimmed a notch, leaving a single beam of white light at the center of the stage.
Fang Jun walked onstage with a guitar strapped to his back, and Luo Ruiyu followed on his right.
Both had clearly put some effort into their appearance.
His bangs were styled with a three-seven part using hair wax, revealing his forehead, making him look much more energetic than usual. Their school uniforms had been swapped for a white shirt and black pants; with their shoulders back and posture straight, a burst of youthful vigor shone through.
It just goes to show: a hairstyle really does make a difference for a guy.
Someone in the back row of Class Eight suppressed a laugh.
"Damn, did Fang Jun secretly level up?"
"Shut up. If he gets nervous and fucks up the chords, you going up there to save him?"
"Can't save him. I only know how to clap along to the beat."
Luo Ruiyu wore a light-colored dress. Her usual ponytail was let down, with long hair falling to her waist.
She stood beside Fang Jun, neither stealing the spotlight nor showing stage fright. She simply leaned down to adjust the mic cable.
The audience quieted down a bit more.
Fang Jun sat down on a high stool, his fingers resting on the strings.
The first chord fell, and the backstage noise was pressed down.
The prelude began to play slowly.
A moment later, Luo Ruiyu stepped forward half a step and sang the first line.
There was no showing off at the start. Her enunciation was clean, her voice had a magnetic quality, and the ending note was held steady.
Just as she had conquered the other students in the auditorium before, she conquered tonight's audience as well.
Those in the audience who had been waiting for the old song to flop quickly shut their mouths.
A girl in the front row raised her phone, intending to record a quick two-second clip. But as she recorded, she didn't lower her hand.
Fang Jun kept his head down, still looking tense.
But beyond the first few rows, the back of the auditorium was all shadows, faces blending together, which actually made it less intimidating.
He stared at the guitar strings, pressing chords with his left hand and strumming with his right.
The muscle memory built from endless practice saved him in that moment.
When his part came,
Fang Jun lifted his head and leaned toward the mic.
"Take me to your heart..."
As the first line came out, the Class Eight section fell silent for half a second.
Then quite a few girls raised their hands to cover their mouths, their eyes lighting up.
"Nice one." An Yuexin sat up straighter. "It sounds even better than at the auditions."
Lin Mo was still holding an unopened bottle of water. After listening for a bit, he leaned back in his seat and smiled.
Of course it was good—his own golden voice was no joke.
Fang Jun's English pronunciation was both magnetic and standard, without resorting to pretentious inflections.
That trace of nervousness actually added a touch of maturity to the song.
The music teacher had been coaching them over these past few days,
teaching them how to better deliver the emotions they wanted.
As expected, Fang Jun also won over the audience's hearts.
At that moment, the feeling had reached its peak.
The accompaniment came in during the second verse—a low drum and string section layered beneath the guitar—making the whole song instantly richer.
Fang Jun no longer focused solely on his hands; he began to look forward, and his voice loosened up considerably compared to the opening.
The reason they added the backing track was because the guitar alone still felt too plain,
so the music teacher had specially arranged a piece.
Many girls watched Fang Jun strumming the guitar and singing along, unable to help sparkling stars in their eyes.
"This guy named Fang Jun... he seems kind of handsome?"
"Yeah, the way he plays guitar, it feels really cool."
"Don't say that, I'd be willing to pass him a love letter."
An Yuexin heard the commotion from the back rows and couldn't help turning to glance.
A lot of people held up their phones, the screens all showing Fang Jun on stage.
If phones weren't allowed tonight, Li Yan would have confiscated them all.
He turned to Lin Mo and whispered: "After tonight, our Fang Jun is going to be one of the Class Eight heartthrobs."
"Yeah, he really cleaned up today. He's about to become a lady-killer."
Lin Mo couldn't help but tease.
"Hey, but he and Luo Ruiyu just don't have any chemistry." Jiang Yunlu shook her head from beside them.
An Yuexin glanced at the cameraman arranged in the front row.
The photographer was crouching by the aisle, the lens constantly tracking the stage.
"Miss Jiang, edit the video and post it in the class group when it's done," An Yuexin said. "HD version, with subtitles. And slap a cover on it. I've got the title ready—call it 'The Night Fang Jun Became a God.'"
Jiang Yunlu looked at him disdainfully. "What are you planning?"
"To keep it as a memento." An Yuexin said it with confidence. "We'll pull it out at future class reunions and reminisce about our youth together."
More than that, he mainly wanted Cai Junhuang to see it.
As a bro, An Yuexin had always felt Fang Jun deserved better.
But love is always a tricky thing.
Lin Mo glanced at An Yuexin and immediately knew what he was up to.
He didn't really care, though. After all, he had no good impression of Cai Junhuang either.
The song didn't last long.
With the final chord struck, Luo Ruiyu held the last note, and Fang Jun's hand stilled on the strings.
The audience was silent for less than a beat before applause rose from the front rows and quickly spread into a wave.
The Class Eight section was the loudest.
"Fang Jun, you're awesome!"
"Luo Ruiyu! Song Queen of Class Eight!"
"One more song!"
Fang Jun and Luo Ruiyu exchanged a glance, both a bit taken aback.
Then they bowed together. As they exited, Fang Jun nearly tripped over a cable, and Luo Ruiyu reached out to steady him.
A few laughs came from the audience.
Fang Jun's ears turned red, and he hurried off stage even faster.
Their program was scheduled early. Not long after leaving the stage, they returned to the audience seats.
As soon as they entered Class Eight's section, a barrage of praise hit them.
"Oh, look who it is—it's the Heartthrob Junjun, the one everyone's falling for?"
"That was amazing! Luo Ruiyu, how are you so good at singing?"
"Class Eight totally has some class tonight!"
Fang Jun didn't know whether to sit or stand under all the compliments, just hugging his guitar and grinning like an idiot.
Luo Ruiyu tied her hair back up again, draping her school jacket over her dress. She wasn't acting aloof, nor was she being intentionally modest. She simply said:
"Thank you all. I just wanted to bring some pride to Class Eight. I'm glad I didn't drag us down."
With Luo Ruiyu saying that, everyone's liking for her grew even more.
Ma Ruixiang leaned back in his chair and sneered: "Right, the new student actually has some sense of collective spirit. Unlike some people."
A few girls nearby chuckled.
Someone chimed in: "Class monitor, what's the point of saying that? The person in question isn't even here."
The subtext was sharp and clear.
The lively atmosphere in Class Eight's section suddenly stalled.
Fang Jun held his guitar, his smile fading a bit, a trace of bitterness creeping in.
He knew Ma Ruixiang was just speaking up for him, so in the end, he could only remain silent.
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
u Chenyuan transmigrated into a female-oriented novel about a real and fake heiress, becoming the CEO elder brother of both. Unfortunately, the entire Lu family—including himself, the CEO—were mere cannon fodder in the story. Determined to save himself, Lu Chenyuan took action. The spoiled, attention-seeking fake heiress? Thrown into the harsh realities of the working class to learn humility. The love-struck real heiress? Pushed toward academic excellence, so lofty goals would blind her to trivial romances. As for the betrayed, vengeful arranged marriage wife… the plot hadn’t even begun yet. There was still time—if he couldn’t handle her, he could at least avoid her. "CEO Lu, are you avoiding me?" Mo Qingli fixed her gaze on Lu Chenyuan. For the first time, the shrewd and calculating Lu Chenyuan felt a flicker of unease.
ions, keeping it grounded and realistic】 After quitting his job, office worker Su Yang accidentally binds with the "Enjoy Life System." As the name suggests, simply by indulging in life's pleasures, he can earn random rewards from the system—no need to spend money on beautiful women or grovel before anyone. Just enjoy, and the money follows, making it all about effortless fun. The system comes with a scanning feature, allowing him to establish a favorability bond with women rated 85 points or above. Every 20-point increase in favorability unlocks additional rewards. After suffering through over twenty years of hardship, Su Yang trembles with excitement, his dull eyes suddenly gleaming with newfound hope. "Enjoy life? How hard could that be?"
uld barely embark on the path to immortality. Just as he was on the verge of death, his golden finger awakened. No matter whether it was poison, drained blood and vital energy, diminished lifespan, or any other physical debuff caused by paying a price—once midnight passed, everything would be refreshed. From then on, whenever someone asked what kind of person Chu Ran was, the answer was simple: Forbidden arts that other cultivators dared not learn? Chu Ran would learn them. Prices that even demonic cultivators dared not pay? Chu Ran would pay them. Lifespan that even righteous cultivators dared not burn? Chu Ran would burn it. All the blood essence in his body? Take it. Want both his hands and feet? He would cut them off and send them to you. You say he’s finished? He wasn’t built to sit idle. You think he’s gone mad? No—he was simply waiting for midnight. From that day onward, Chu Ran would respect neither Heaven nor Earth, bow to neither gods nor ghosts. He had only one wish: For midnight to arrive a little sooner.
