68. Ji Fanxing is a born drama queen.

Let us not speak first of the fact that this is Master Fang’s return to the stage after ten years away. The invitation alone to the “National Music Exchange Conference” is enough to stir the world—it is the most prestigious music exchange event in the country. Only the most renowned musicians, both domestic and international, are invited; it is the highest honor in the field. Ordinary singers in the entertainment industry are not even eligible to attend, much less those contestants emerging from variety shows. If one of them were to perform outstandingly at the conference and gain recognition, then henceforth, as long as they stayed out of trouble, they could walk tall across the Chinese music scene.

This invitation is more precious than even the championship trophy of “The King of All Singers.” Fang Zhijing’s generosity is astonishing.

Netizens were left speechless with shock. Even the already announced guest performers could not resist leaving comments under Fang Zhijing’s post.

Lu Yi: “Mr. Fang, is it still possible to sign up for the program now? QAQ!”

But the comment section was soon flooded with amused onlookers.

“We’re already at the finals! It’s too late, hahaha!”

“Mentor Lu, why aren’t you smiling? Are you just not the cheerful type?”

After some time, Fang Zhijing actually replied to Xie Huai’s comment.

“No matter when, it’s never too late. [Encouragement]”

At Gale Entertainment, Lu Yi stared at Fang Zhijing’s reply on his phone, so excited he felt his luck was finally turning. He’d been working for years without ever making a splash; this time he’d only landed the guest mentor spot because another artist from his company had turned it down. He never expected “The King of All Singers” to become such a sensation, nor to have such an opportunity now.

He put away his phone, ambition blazing in his eyes. A few newcomers wouldn’t be hard to beat at all. He was determined to win this invitation!

Fang Zhijing’s attitude made netizens all the more excited for the finals. Although it was almost certain Ji Fanxing would win the championship, watching the contestants and mentors battle for the invitation promised to be even more entertaining.

The public buzzed with anticipation. The hashtag #RememberToGrabTicketsAt8PM# shot up the trending lists at lightning speed. Within three minutes of ticket sales opening, every seat was snatched up. Such a scramble had previously only occurred at concerts for top-tier stars; for a variety show’s final performance to reach this level was truly unprecedented.

At Jiangshang Entertainment, Shen Zhiyao glanced at the words “Ticket Purchase Successful” on Lu Tianyu’s phone screen and reminded him, “If you go to the concert, make sure to keep a low profile.”

Lu Tianyu switched off his phone and replied earnestly, “I am Chu Hao’s cousin, after all. I must support my little brother at the finals.”

In a key high school in the capital, Ji Rufeng ended a call with his mother, feeling thoroughly irritable.

His mother wanted him to go to Haicheng during the holidays to cheer on his eldest sister at the live show of “The King of All Singers.” While he did want to see her, the thought of Ji Fanxing being there filled him with annoyance.

For days now, “Invisible Wings” had been playing non-stop around him; he was sick of it. He simply didn’t understand what was so appealing about such a soft, gentle song.

Even when Ji Fanxing had spoken to him that way last time, Ji Rufeng hadn’t cared. He just thought she was obsessed with the competition. If Ji Fanxing saw him at the show, she would definitely come over, fussing and asking endless questions. She’d always been like that—ugly, stupid, a snot-nosed tagalong always circling him.

Always calling him brother, always by his side—it was unbearable.

Now, even hearing Ji Fanxing’s voice made him nauseous.

Ji Rufeng absentmindedly pulled a book from his desk and flipped through it, still torn about whether to go to Haishi. Lost in thought, a slip of paper slid from the book. Only then did he realize he’d picked up his deskmate Zhang Shuyi’s book by mistake.

He bent to return the paper, but the writing caught his eye.

“Sorry, Mom?”

He couldn’t help reading further. When he saw the second line—“By the time you find this suicide note, I should already be dead…”—his expression froze in horror.

It was a suicide note!

After all, Ji Rufeng was only seventeen; his worries vanished in an instant as his mind replayed memories of his quiet, taciturn deskmate. Zhang Shuyi’s lifeless expression flashed before his eyes, sending his heart racing and palms sweating.

He immediately searched the classroom for her. Through the window, he saw her standing alone at the edge of the rooftop.

Was she about to do something drastic?

Without another thought, he bolted from the classroom, sprinting to the rooftop like a rocket.

“Zhang Shuyi! What are you doing?!”

He reached the rooftop at full speed, grabbed Zhang Shuyi, and pulled her away from the edge.

Zhang Shuyi barely managed to steady the lunch box in her hands, still chewing her food, and mumbled, “Huh? I’m… eating lunch.”

“Eating lunch?!” Ji Rufeng, still shaken, stared at the lunch box in her hands.

“Then why did you write something like this?! Are you playing some kind of joke?”

He tossed the paper back at her.

Zhang Shuyi picked up the note, opened it, and immediately blushed when she realized it was something she’d written a long time ago. Flustered, she stuffed the paper into her pocket.

“Sorry… None of that matters anymore. I wrote it on a whim!”

“Weirdo.” Ji Rufeng scowled, turning to leave, but paused abruptly.

“You’re coming downstairs with me. And from now on, you’re not allowed on the rooftop!”

“Okay…” Knowing she’d done something wrong, Zhang Shuyi packed up her lunch and quietly followed him downstairs.

They walked back in awkward silence. Just before they reached the classroom, Zhang Shuyi finally mustered the courage to say, “Actually… I really did feel that way once. I almost went through with it.

“It was your sister Ji Fanxing’s singing that saved me and gave me the courage to go on.”

Ji Rufeng’s face twisted in disbelief, but Zhang Shuyi continued, “Last time you asked me what I thought of her—I wanted to say, she’s my idol for life! And… thank you for today.”

Blushing deeply, Zhang Shuyi hurried past Ji Rufeng to her seat.

Ji Rufeng was left standing stiffly at the classroom door, eyes wide with shock.

What did she say? That Ji Fanxing’s singing gave her strength?

How could that be?!

That was the idiot Ji Fanxing!

She must have studied herself stupid!

Ji Rufeng seethed with frustration. He felt betrayed by the whole world—how could everyone in class like Ji Fanxing? He simply couldn’t accept it.

Ji Fanxing had graduated from drama school; she was trained to act.

He resolved to go to the show himself and expose Ji Fanxing’s true face!

Let his classmates see how he’d been fooled by her lousy acting!

On Robin Island, in the recording studio.

Hailan was practicing her song intently.

Ji Fanxing and He Hongjing sat around a table strewn with scores and design sketches. With a pencil in hand, Ji Fanxing explained as she quickly drafted the stage layout on a blank sheet of paper.

“See, this is where the lead singer will stand. Behind us is a giant LED screen that can project all sorts of rock elements and visual effects.”

Her pencil flew over the page, and the outline of the stage emerged before their eyes.

“I want the entire stage to have a vintage rock style…”

He Hongjing no longer had any doubts about Ji Fanxing’s ideas. Now, whatever Ji Fanxing suggested, she took as gospel.

Staring at the vivid design, words of praise crowded her mind, but all she managed was, “This is awesome.”

Ji Fanxing smiled and said, “Sister Jing, I have another idea, but it depends on you.”

“What idea?” He Hongjing asked curiously.

“I heard from Hailan that you have a band. I’d like your band to accompany Hailan live at the show.”