Volume One, Chapter Three: A Song Without Adornment, Stirring Resonance Throughout the Audience

Several roommates kept shouting and clapping wildly.

“Damn, Fourth, you’re amazing!”

“Fourth, today is the day of your rebirth!”

“Fourth, let loose tonight—tomorrow the sun will rise as usual!”

As his roommates, they knew well that Jiang Yu was not the type to show off, but tonight’s events had clearly shaken him. They assumed that Jiang Yu, overwhelmed by the evening’s turmoil, had decided to indulge himself for once and step onto the stage.

Onstage, Jiang Yu wore an awkward expression. His lively roommates made him curl his toes with embarrassment, and he struggled to resist the urge to march off the stage and give them each a beating.

Yet it was undeniable—ever since being transformed by the system, Jiang Yu possessed a remarkable charm. Even just sitting quietly, he exuded an inexplicable aura that drew the attention of most of the patrons. Coupled with his three hype-men, he became the focal point of the entire bar.

Applause and shrill cheers erupted around him as the music began to play softly.

“Another quiet evening, sitting alone in my rocking chair, enjoying the breeze.”

“I have to admit, it’s peaceful—just like the old man downstairs.”

“I heard you’re still writing your own songs, but after all this time, it doesn’t seem to amount to much.”

“Maybe you should spend some time pondering your own reflection.”

As his voice drifted out, Wang Mingxu frowned in confusion.

“What song is this?”

The other three from dorm 250 exchanged glances. None of them had ever heard Jiang Yu sing before, and more importantly, the tune was completely unfamiliar—they couldn’t even guess the name of the song. But none of that mattered.

Wang Hong was visibly excited. “Damn, Fourth, you’re incredible! I’ve never heard him sing before, and he’s this good?”

With no excessive vocal techniques, the song unfolded like a quiet narrative, drawing everyone in the bar into its story. The opening lines painted a vivid scene—a man, grown older, reclining in a rocking chair, the embodiment of serene leisure.

It was a comforting image, but then the lyrics shifted, and something felt amiss.

“Maybe you should spend some time pondering your own reflection.” What did that mean?

The patrons fell silent, gazing at the young man on stage, their thoughts drifting far away.

“I searched for this song online, but I can’t find it anywhere. It’s original!”

“Really, it’s his own work!”

“I recognize him—he’s Jiang Yu, the heartthrob from our Film Academy. Wow, I’ve only seen his photos before, but in person, he’s even more stunning!”

“I didn’t recognize him at first. Didn’t he never come to places like this?”

“Today I saw Zhao Yiyi’s post—maybe he’s drowning his sorrows in drink tonight.”

Once someone recognized him, curiosity spread quickly. Drinks in hand, people moved from table to table, hungry for the latest gossip—it is, after all, humanity’s sixth sense.

“Bro, you know him? What happened exactly?”

“Ah, nothing to be done—a lover meets a dog trainer, and gets the short end of the stick.”

The students from the Film Academy filled everyone in, drawing exclamations of sympathy.

“But nowadays, being unattractive is a crime, and being poor is even worse. If your partner falls ill and you have no money, running to the doctor to proclaim your love won’t save them.”

But Jiang Yu paid no mind to the chatter below. He continued to sing softly.

“I believe in a beautiful disguise.”

“I sway at the center of the dance floor, you can imagine the posture.”

“I’ll make my own changes—why dwell on it?”

“So please, let’s not meet again.”

At this point, the audience finally understood. This was his own song, a tale of a couple—after the breakup, he remained unchanged while she had transformed.

In that instant, the crowd empathized.

Jiang Yu’s voice was as gentle as tea, the melody unhurried, lacking the agitation of pop music. The soft song and slow rhythm struck directly at the heart.

Who among us hasn’t experienced a bittersweet first love? But reality forces us to be pragmatic—who is content with only the innocence of youth?

The patrons were enveloped in silence. Some sentimental men already felt their eyes grow damp—clearly men with stories of their own. A few women wiped away tears, as if the song had drawn out old memories, a trace of regret flickering in their eyes.

Tonight, the bar has its wine, I have my song—do you have a story?

Jiang Yu raised his voice.

“If I saw you again, would I still feel the same, oh—”

“Back then, your face was unadorned, as pure as pure can be.”

“No eyeliner, no carefully blended foundation.”

“Even in a downpour, we’d stroll and laugh at others’ smeared makeup.”

His voice, still as gentle as a spring breeze, swept through the hearts of all present. Even his own gaze grew misty.

This was one of his favorite songs from his previous life. That heart-wrenching pain of remaining unchanged while she had moved on—who hasn’t felt it?

Despite the lively music, more and more people in the bar were wiping their tears.

In a booth, his roommates started off in disbelief, then grew excited, then emotional, and finally fell silent with heavy hearts.

They had never heard him sing before, nor seen him write a song. The only explanation was that he wrote it after breaking up with Zhao Yiyi.

They never imagined Fourth would be so deeply wounded—wounded enough to write a song.

At that moment, in a secluded booth, a group of young women sat quietly listening. Each was bright and lovely, but one girl shone above the rest.

She wore a white dress, her beauty like a painting—phoenix eyes, peach-blossom gaze, skin white as jade, a slender and graceful figure, enchanting yet refined, her allure perfectly balanced.

She exuded a gentle yet playful charm that left people entranced.

If Jiang Yu saw her now, he would recognize her instantly.

She was a woman so outstanding, it bordered on excess. Not only was she a top student beloved by her teachers, but she was also the host of major school events. She had won first prize in national competitions for both dance and piano.

But none of this was the most important thing.

Her beauty was.

Before meeting her, one might scoff at love at first sight, insisting that character and substance matter most. But after meeting her, self-deception becomes impossible.

Most men put on a brave face; even the most ordinary man, after a shower, fancies himself a movie star. But such bravado is laughable before a woman like her.

Because at the sight of her, one instinctively feels unworthy.

The highest praise for a woman: no one dares pursue her.

Jiang Xia Film Academy’s campus belle, the nation’s little sister, the ethereal goddess Su Muyu.

“I never knew the campus heartthrob could sing.”

“I always thought he was just a pretty face, all looks and no substance. But he’s this talented, and still so handsome.”

“Xiaoyu, looks like the school heartthrob has been really hurt this time.”

Su Muyu’s eyes, clear as autumn water, never left the figure on stage. She gazed at him, lost in thought, a trace of heartache flickering in her expression.

“Hey, Xiaoyu, why are you looking at Jiang Yu like that? Do you know him?” a beautiful girl beside her asked.

“We do. We’ve known each other for a long time.”

After she replied, Su Muyu looked back at the figure on stage, her thoughts drifting back to the past.