Chapter 15: He Shouldered the Guitar, Bearing His Youth

He also said that you’re especially fierce and that no one should provoke you, or they’d meet a dreadful end. Tang Shuo ended with a gesture across his neck. Quirky and amusing.

Xu Zhiting remained expressionless, typing a message on his phone to Tang Shuo. The recipient opened it and saw a single word:

“Get lost!!!”

“Did you really tell him that about me?”

A warm breath brushed against Xu Zhiting’s ear, nearly causing him to drop his phone. His head tilted slightly—a mere breath apart from her, close enough to see each individual eyelash. Yan Ye’s eyes were as beautiful as dolls displayed in a shop window, brighter even than the stars overhead.

“I didn’t mean it that way, do you believe me?”

Yan Ye blinked, withdrawing her scrutinizing gaze to continue watching Tang Xu on stage. The person beside her quietly exhaled and straightened up. Whether Yan Ye heard what he said just now or not, she understood his meaning, surely!

The commotion Tang Xu caused was immense, so much so that even the Supernatural Bureau received reports. The danger wasn’t yet enough to warrant Xu Zhiting’s appearance, but if he didn’t come, others would surely arrive. Others who might not be so easy to reason with.

Every member of the Supernatural Bureau had a distinct personality—some preferred reasoned dialogue, others resorted to action at the slightest disagreement. Encountering a difficult one could mean a life-or-death struggle.

Yan Ye’s status was special; he wasn’t worried about her getting hurt. What he feared was that she might develop a poor impression of the Bureau. After all, he now commanded the entire Supernatural Bureau. To put it bluntly, when necessary, they could become adversaries.

“When did you find out I’m the owner of the Time General Store?” She didn’t think she had told him.

“From the very first time we met.”

“Huh?” When did she become so easy to recognize?

“You forgot—I’m with the Supernatural Bureau.”

Right! Yan Ye had inevitably clashed with Bureau agents before during missions. Sometimes conflicts even erupted. That was why she disliked too much contact with the Bureau—it was complicated.

But clearly, the bigger problem now was Tang Xu. He couldn’t sing.

Yan Ye’s patience was wearing thin, with forty minutes left until midnight. Behind Tang Xu, a massive clock dial slowly materialized. Tang Shuo was seeing such a powerful magical artifact for the first time; he glanced at Xu Zhiting, whose face remained calm, unaffected. A true leader, accustomed to grand occasions.

Yan Ye stood up. One moment she was seated in the center of the audience; the next, she teleported beside Tang Xu. Tang Shuo exclaimed in awe—such instantaneous teleportation was rare even within the Supernatural Bureau.

“Tang Xu, if you don’t sing now, once the time’s up, you won’t reach the Reincarnation Path.” Missing that path meant total soul destruction.

Tang Xu, pale-faced, gripped the microphone silently. He didn’t know what he was waiting for—waiting for an impossible chance.

As time slipped away, the ticking of the clock dial resembled a death knell.

Tang Xu seemed to reach a resolve, illuminating the stage. Dozens of towering beams pierced the night, surrounding him. He strapped on his guitar, as if shouldering his youth.

His fingers danced, powerful electronic music resounded through the air. The compelling rhythm surged through the soul, sparking nervous excitement.

At this moment, he was the center of the world, the god reigning over the stage.

The singing Tang Xu transformed instantly—confident, handsome, graceful in his fluid dance moves.

Even Yan Ye, usually indifferent to music, stood at the side of the stage, instinctively tapping her foot to the beat, fingers gently drumming her thigh.

Suddenly, she caught a burning gaze.

Like a mischievous child caught in the act by an adult.

Her body stiffened momentarily. Thinking it over casually, she met the gaze and resumed her movement.

Xu Zhiting was charmed by her coquettish look, mimicking her by tapping along too.

Who said music lacked soul? Who said it lacked resonance?

Those penetrating voices were weaving together, attracting more and more kindred spirits.

Covering half the mountain’s cemetery, faint sparkling lights rose here and there from the graves. One by one, they gathered into a brilliant galaxy swirling above the stage.

The light from those star clusters gradually dimmed the clock dial until the countdown stopped entirely.

Incredible! He had awakened even the ghosts sleeping beneath the cemetery.

Perhaps in this moment, Tang Xu understood. His audience could be many—or none at all.

What mattered was whether he sang for his former fans or to remember his past self.

Perhaps both—but in this moment, his life's final blaze was only to grasp the fleeting beauty.

A car pulled up at the gate.

Several young girls stepped out, nervously watching the stage, holding up banners bearing their idol’s name.

Midnight visits to a memorial hall to honor an idol were strange enough—but they thought they’d lost their minds when they saw their idol dancing in front of his own memorial.

Tang Xu was caught up in his performance, oblivious to the growing crowd.

When he finished, he saw the dense gathering of people opposite him.

Was it still possible to perform on stage now?

Having paid, Yan Ye had intended to kindly remind him, but the fired-up singer paid no attention.

“Um, are you all here to see me?”

The venue fell silent for a full minute, until one girl quietly sobbed.

Tang Xu was suddenly at a loss, quickly offering tissues. The girls shrank back fearfully.

Ah, he almost forgot—he should be lying in his coffin, not standing here.

One braver girl spoke softly:

“Are you really Tang Xu?”

They had all received the news and thought it was a prank.

Yet they couldn’t resist coming to see for themselves.

Fans who had once chased Tang Xu’s talent show dreams were now grown, some having followed other idols. In the end, only a few remained, scattered in small groups.

They had arranged to meet their idol one last time.

A car accident on the highway delayed their journey, and the bus arrived deep into the night.

One taller girl whispered:

“Bro, you don’t really think you’re out of the limelight and are pulling this prank to make a comeback, do you? Actually, your acting was great, and your supporting roles were outstanding. I have my own life now and rarely chase stars, but seeing you on TV made me proud.”

Tang Xu felt a pang of sorrow.

He wished it were just a prank—but he was truly dead.

“But tell me, if I tell you I’m really dead, would you be scared?”

“Alright! Don’t be so sad. Since you’re here, sing us one more song!”

As he turned, someone behind him covered her mouth and began to cry.

With his back to them, Tang Xu stepped toward the stage—yet beneath his feet, there was no shadow.