Chapter Eight: Confirmation

After that brief episode, the four returned to a lively atmosphere, chatting and laughing as they ate, sharing amusing anecdotes from their university days and recalling memorable incidents involving other classmates. The topics seemed endless—a necessary skill for any reunion: reminiscing about that unforgettable period and the people and events it contained.

Yet, it was mostly Fan Ziming and Shen Mengxue doing the talking. Lin Qihua, having missed many of these experiences, simply listened quietly, while Ma Xiaoqian, who had lost her earlier vivaciousness, sat with her hands folded in front of her, smiling as she listened to the two, her gaze occasionally drifting to Lin Qihua.

Once Fan Ziming had eaten his fill, his mood became more animated, gradually taking over the conversation. By then, he was essentially holding court alone, the others listening with interest as he boasted.

"Do you know?" Fan Ziming said excitedly, "My advisor and I have made tremendous progress with our project. We’re already drafting the paper, and the funding is almost in place—a staggering amount, really."

The others responded casually, but Fan Ziming seemed oblivious, continuing to expound on how groundbreaking their research was, the sensation it would cause, and the profits to be reaped. Lin Qihua felt a laugh rising but held it back; Fan Ziming was the textbook peacock, and from his observations, it was likely Fan Ziming had feelings for Shen Mengxue, though nothing had ever come of it. Now, with a rare chance to boast, he was making the most of it—but he had missed the mark. The theme of today's gathering was a reunion, and the worst thing one could do was brag about work or personal achievements. It risked giving the impression of flaunting success and diminishing others, sullying the sanctity of their bond as classmates. Even if reality was otherwise, everyone preferred to uphold the purity of those ties; such talk didn't belong here. Fan Ziming didn’t understand this, and judging by the girls’ expressions, his attempt at impressing had backfired. Perhaps his research had dulled his emotional intelligence, or ambition had clouded his mind.

Finally, when Fan Ziming paused to take a sip of water, Shen Mengxue seized the opportunity to ask Lin Qihua, "Old classmate, I heard you’ve been having some trouble lately?"

"Hmm?" Lin Qihua looked at her, puzzled. "That’s true, but it’s nothing much. You’re well-informed, Shen."

"First," Shen Mengxue laughed softly, "you’re one of our class, once the star of the group—the campus heartthrob. Of course we keep track of your news. Second, we have a super-fan of yours here. Over the years, she’s known your every move, always talking about you in my ear."

"Shen Mengxue, you’re impossible!" Ma Xiaoqian’s face flushed, and she reached out to cover Shen Mengxue’s mouth.

"Ah, hahaha." Shen Mengxue dodged her hand, laughing. "See? She’s embarrassed now."

Lin Qihua watched the two playfully tussle, feeling an odd sense of calm, smiling quietly.

Ma Xiaoqian, no match for Shen Mengxue, soon realized her position and quickly returned to her seat, speaking with her head lowered, "Old classmate, setbacks are only temporary. Things will get better."

"It’s alright, really." Lin Qihua raised his drink to her, signaling, "Thank you for always supporting me. I’ll keep working hard. Let’s toast—with soda instead of wine."

"Alright." Ma Xiaoqian’s eyes shone as she raised her glass to clink with his. "You’ll definitely succeed. Talented people who work hard will never be let down by fate."

"Thank you for your faith," Lin Qihua replied with a smile. She was probably his most loyal fan, and a fellow classmate, which filled him with a unique warmth.

"Xiaoqian is the renowned talent of our Finance Department," Shen Mengxue chimed in with a grin. "If you make it big someday, you should have her manage your assets—no one would be more suitable."

"That impressive?" Lin Qihua was mildly surprised. The Ma Xiaoqian before him bore little resemblance to the shy, plain girl with glasses he remembered. Girls really do change as they grow—she had transformed remarkably.

"I wonder what will happen to our superstar, though?" Fan Ziming, now somewhat tipsy and dissatisfied with being sidelined, interjected. "Your company terminated your contract—will any agency sign you again? One year? Two years? Who knows what tier you’ll drop to? Will you be stuck in Beijing, taking bit parts?"

"Shut your foul mouth," Shen Mengxue snapped. "Fan Ziming, if you don’t like it, you can leave. There’s no place for curse-spewing at a class reunion."

"Mengxue, you…" Fan Ziming stared at her in shock, unable to fathom why she was so angry. Lin Qihua had only spent less than a year with them, while he himself had pursued her for four years, always behaving impeccably. Why did a few words from him warrant such outrage?

Lin Qihua looked at Fan Ziming without a trace of anger. In his eyes, Fan Ziming’s vision was too narrow, his tactics too clumsy, so petty—no girl would ever be attracted to such a man. It’s said that one must judge a man’s character, and the best way is to have him meet the guy he admires. The difference becomes clear at once. A man with grace and breadth is like the sea—welcoming every stream, never fussing over the immediate, able to see the world, giving to others and thus gaining endlessly. Confident, strong, never fighting for petty wins, never rash, but decisive when it matters—such men win the hearts of distinguished women. For Lin Qihua, these were only part of his training, but for Fan Ziming, they were incomprehensible. Without experience, there is no growth; ignorance remains unseen. This is why most women are drawn to older, more mature men—the boys of their own age seem far too childish.

Unaware that Lin Qihua had already passed judgment on him, Fan Ziming sat there, face flushed with anger, silent and sullen. Shen Mengxue’s rebuke had left him a little afraid, though he still didn’t understand what he’d done wrong.

"Don’t be angry, old classmate—I’m perfectly fine," Lin Qihua said with a smile, soothing Shen Mengxue.

"I detest those who kick others when they’re down. No sense of camaraderie," Shen Mengxue said, brushing a stray lock from her forehead, her tone still tinged with indignation. "The entertainment world is about connections, circles, popularity—but most importantly, it’s about talent and skill. I believe our old classmate is only in a temporary slump; things will improve. Besides, even at your lowest, you’re still out of reach for us. With your talent, one song could earn you more than our annual salary. Some people just don’t appreciate that."

Lin Qihua smiled. She was right. If he released the song he wrote last night, even without mentioning the copyright fee from the artist who might buy it, the wireless download share alone would earn him a substantial sum. He was confident in the song’s quality.

"Old classmate, what do you say to holding a reunion during the Spring Festival? It’s been over a year since graduation, and everyone’s scattered across the country, working hard for their futures. It’s time we gathered again."

"That would be wonderful. You’re the class president—everyone will come if you call."

"I just hope you won’t refuse," Shen Mengxue said quietly. "Even though you only spent a year with us, you’re still part of our class, still one of us, and our pride. If you come, the girls will all show up, I guarantee it."

"Of course. I’ve always considered myself part of the class—it’s just that training kept me too busy to stay in touch," Lin Qihua replied, then laughed, "I’m sure since graduation, many classmates have achieved remarkable things. Before them, I wouldn’t be anyone’s pride anymore—don’t flatter me, president."

"That’s good," Shen Mengxue breathed out, relieved. "I was afraid you’d refuse. If the girls know you’re coming, the turnout will be full, I’m sure."

"Classmates, huh? I wonder how Fatty, Haizi, Qin Shao, Meng Liang, and Feng Yuan are doing. I was only at university for a year, but the memories are so vivid." Lin Qihua’s expression grew distant, recalling those days. He had traded away the leisurely life of university for three grueling years of training camp—scheming and competition. It made him cherish those uncomplicated days of student camaraderie all the more. Right or wrong, he couldn’t say—only that the path he chose, he must see through to the end.

As he mused, a faint ache returned to the back of his head. Moved, he stood and said, "I’ll go to the restroom. Please wait a moment."

The three nodded.

Lin Qihua found the restroom with practiced ease, closed the door, leaned against the wall, and shut his eyes. As expected, the nebula in his mind spun faster than usual, and a star was cast out, transforming into an MV that began to play slowly. Two middle-aged men, dressed in school uniforms, sang with deep emotion about reminiscing their youth:

... Years pass in a blink, with countless joys and sorrows.
Once we dreamed of distant lands, envied the geese flying south.
Rushing toward our own futures, our paths diverged and faded apart.
Where is the future? Who will answer for the ordinary?
Those who once accompanied me—where are you now?
The ones I once loved—what do you look like today?
Did our wishes ever come true?
Or is all that’s left a memorial?
Let time dry out ideals, never to recover the real me...

The song was full of nostalgia for youth, lamenting the passage of years and all the changes endured. Seeing how everything had shifted, he looked back and felt a surge of longing for dreams, lost love, and the vigor of youth.

"It’s real," Lin Qihua trembled with excitement. "My suspicions were correct—heaven has shown mercy, granting me a wondrous power. If I immerse myself in this world and let emotions move me, the nebula will manifest a song perfectly suited to the moment. There’s no doubt—I possess a unique ability, and it will be my greatest asset. As long as I stay true to myself and keep working hard, with this gift, I will surely secure a place in the music world."

At this moment, Lin Qihua finally let go of his old worries. Being cast out by his company, his future uncertain—of course he’d felt confused and afraid, putting on a brave face for his parents and classmates, but lacking confidence within. Now, with this power confirmed, he felt utterly reassured. Before him, a golden road had appeared.