Chapter 25: Mother

Xu Zhixing slowly lowered the violin in her hands. The melodious notes seemed to linger in the air, leaving a long, resonant echo.

Thunderous applause erupted from the audience. Students stood up one after another, clapping so hard that their palms turned red without them even noticing.

Zhang Chenxi stood in the crowd, his eyes filled with awe and wonder. He tilted his head slightly and said to Lin Siqing, who was standing beside him, "This beauty has been famous ever since she arrived at our school. I only heard she was pretty and came from a wealthy family, but I never imagined she was this talented."

As he spoke, he couldn't help but shake his head, as if annoyed by his own superficial assessment of Xu Zhixing. He crossed his arms over his chest, his fingers tapping rhythmically against his sleeves, his gaze never shifting from Xu Zhixing on stage.

Lin Siqing merely cast a faint, indifferent glance at the radiant Xu Zhixing. His face remained expressionless, though his complexion seemed rather sour. He let out a soft scoff and muttered under his breath, "It's just playing the violin. What's the big deal?"

His lips curled slightly with a trace of imperceptible disdain. With his hands tucked into his pockets and his body leaning back, he seemed to be deliberately keeping his distance from the fervent atmosphere around him.

Just then, a student nearby said excitedly, "Xu Zhixing isn't just good at the violin; I heard she’s also skilled at piano and painting. She’s truly an all-around talent!"

Upon hearing this, Zhang Chenxi’s eyes widened further. He nodded repeatedly, "No wonder, no wonder she’s so eye-catching. I was wondering why she suddenly became such a hot topic at school—turns out she really has the skills to back it up." His voice rose slightly with excitement, ringing out clearly amidst the noisy crowd.

Lin Siqing frowned and said impatiently, "Stop the mindless flattery. It’s probably all just superficial showmanship. Nothing worth making such a fuss about." His brows were tightly knitted, and his eyes held a flicker of irritable anger. Despite his attempt to hide it, his words and expression revealed hints of his true feelings.

Zhang Chenxi turned to look at Lin Siqing, confused. "Lin Siqing, what is wrong with you today? Xu Zhixing is genuinely talented. Isn't it a bit too much to speak about her like that?" His eyes held a hint of reproach, and he leaned slightly toward Lin Siqing, watching as a playful, mocking smile flickered across Lin Siqing’s face.

Lin Siqing turned his head away, avoiding Zhang Chenxi’s gaze. After a moment of silence, he said slowly, "I just think people shouldn't focus solely on appearances and talents; one's inner self is what matters most." His voice grew lower, as if he were trying to convince himself rather than respond to Zhang Chenxi’s questioning. However, his tightly bitten lower lip and trembling fingers betrayed his inner turmoil.

Zhang Chenxi keenly caught Lin Siqing’s momentary lapse. He understood that Lin Siqing must have been thinking of his mother. In Lin Siqing’s memories, his mother had been just such a gifted woman, her talent shining with a unique brilliance that illuminated his childhood like a radiant star.

Whenever he recalled his mother, a scene would always surface in Lin Siqing’s mind: his mother sitting at that old but impeccably polished piano, her slender fingers dancing nimbly across the black and white keys, beautiful notes weaving and playing through the room like nimble spirits. The focused expression on her face while she painted was also deeply etched in his memory; her brush moved freely across the canvas, outlining vivid scenes—mountains and rivers, or flowers and birds—every stroke infused with her love for life and art.

Seeing Lin Siqing so dejected, a strong urge to comfort him welled up in Zhang Chenxi. He reached out slowly and placed a hand gently on Lin Siqing’s shoulder, hoping to offer a sliver of warmth and strength.

However, Lin Siqing was drowning in a quagmire of complex thoughts and painful memories. This touch from Zhang Chenxi acted as a fuse for his simmering frustration. Lin Siqing whipped his head around, his eyes filled with anger and impatience, and he quickly raised his hand, swatting Zhang Chenxi’s away with force.

The action was rough. A crisp "slap" echoed in the air. Zhang Chenxi’s hand was left slightly reddened, and he stared at Lin Siqing in shock, unable to believe he would have such an extreme reaction.

Ignoring Zhang Chenxi, Lin Siqing’s chest heaved violently as he gasped for air, as if only this could calm the surging waves of emotion within him. He bit his lower lip so hard that his teeth sank into the flesh, and a drop of bright red blood seeped out, though he remained oblivious to the pain.

He turned and walked away, his steps hurried and chaotic, each stride reflecting his inner struggle and desire to escape. He cut through the bustling crowd, the laughter and cheers around him sounding like harsh noise in his ears. He shoved past people with stiff, reckless movements. Those he bumped into complained in dissatisfaction, but he didn't stop or pay them any mind. His eyes were hollow and lost; he just kept walking forward, not knowing where he was headed. He only knew he needed to leave this place that made him feel so agitated, as if only by walking could he leave those painful memories and complex emotions far behind.

In the backstage dressing room, Xu Zhixing sat quietly in front of the mirror, removing her makeup. Her movements were gentle and elegant. She pressed a cotton ball soaked in makeup remover against her eyes; her long lashes fluttered slightly as the eyeshadow was wiped away, revealing her clear, limpid eyes. Then, she wiped her cheeks with a cotton pad, and the foundation fell away, exposing skin as delicate as fine porcelain.

Jiang Chaozhou hid in a corner backstage, watching her secretly. His body was half-hidden behind a prop box, but his eyes were fixed on Xu Zhixing’s every move. He wanted to approach but lacked the courage; his feet felt as if they were nailed to the floor, and he could only pray in his heart not to be discovered.

Meanwhile, Fu Xiaotao was watching the performance on stage with rapt attention. Her eyes didn't blink, her hands were tightly clasped in front of her chest, and her face was full of anticipation, for her class’s performance was coming up next.

Suddenly, Fu Siqiao spoke up, "I have to go back for a moment. I forgot my brushes at the stall."

Hearing this, Fu Xiaotao turned her head and said quickly, "Hurry back then, or you’ll miss our class’s amazing performance."

Fu Siqiao rushed away from the venue, walking quickly along the campus path. The campus was vast, with lush trees lining both sides of the road. As she walked, she saw a familiar figure—Lin Siqing. He was punching and kicking a large tree, treating it as an outlet for his frustration.

Fu Siqiao couldn't help but walk up to him and ask, "Lin Siqing, why are you here?"

Hearing her voice, Lin Siqing stopped and turned around. His face was full of irritation, and he snapped, "Mind your own business!" His forehead was covered in sweat, his hair was disheveled, and his eyes held a repressed, burning anger.

Fu Siqiao didn't retreat because of his attitude. She looked at him with concern: "Are you dealing with something troubling? You can talk to me about it."

Lin Siqing let out a cold scoff and didn't answer, turning his back to her to continue venting his emotions on the tree. His fists rained down on the trunk, each blow accompanied by a slight tremor in his body, as if he were using this to release the unspeakable pain deep within him.

Fu Siqiao stepped forward, trying to grab his arm, but Lin Siqing shook her off with force. He swung his arm violently, as if trying to break free from all constraints, his voice becoming even raspier: "Leave me alone! Let me be by myself!"

Fu Siqiao stood where she was, watching Lin Siqing’s retreating back, her heart filled with helplessness. What was this man-child doing now?