Chapter 38: That’s Called Playing Dirty

The performance was scheduled for seven in the evening.

Compared to the hustle and bustle of other students, Xu Zhiqiao’s role was simple—just singing a song onstage. She didn’t need to go overboard or change into a gown. The counselor had said it was fine for her to wear her own clothes.

So Xu Zhiqiao chose her unworn military training uniform. It fit the occasion.

With her soft Jin Dong accent, Xu Zhiqiao thought her Mandarin was pretty standard. But everyone around her agreed her voice carried an upward lilt, like she was always acting coy.

After some thought, she picked Yang Yuying’s I’ll Wait for You in Spring—a song that matched her gentle tone.

The earlier performances were all energetic songs and dances. When it was her turn, the entire auditorium fell silent. With white mist curling on the stage and ethereal lighting, it felt like she’d stepped out of a dream—soothing and serene.

Under the surround sound speakers, her first note echoed like the water towns of Jiangnan—airy and delicate.

Thousands of students in their military uniforms instinctively quieted down.

Through the screens of phones filming her, she could be seen in the same military training uniform as everyone else—barefaced, porcelain-pale, her curled hair loosely tied. Her voice was unusually soft and sweet.

Someone whispered, “It really feels like we just arrived in Jiangnan.”

“Feels more like a southern Little Bao dropped into our Harbin crew. Look at our dorm’s bunch of brutes, all afraid they’ll scare her off.”

When the song ended, Xu Zhiqiao bowed. Suddenly, two male students jumped on stage and handed her two bouquets.

Seeing earlier performers receive the same, she figured it must’ve been part of the event—cheering from the stage crew.

But before she could leave, a giant banner unfurled near the auditorium entrance. Under the soft glow, Andy Lau’s soulful gaze looked straight at her.

Whispers spread like wildfire. Soon, the thousands of teachers and students in the hall were all staring.

Xu Zhiqiao: “……”

Then Ji Huailuo raised a loudspeaker: “OHHHHH~~~~WOOOOO~~~~~”

Hua Qingyang and Zhen Chuang joined in right on cue: “OHHHHWOOOO”

A three-part male harmony.

Xu Zhiqiao wanted to die.

Truly, she wanted to dig a hole and disappear.

She quickly handed off the mic and bouquets to the emcee, buried her face, and dashed offstage. She weaved through the crowd like a bullet and slammed into Ji Huailuo’s chest.

“You’re insane!” Her face burned red as she snatched the megaphone from him. “I swear I’ll kill you!”

Ji Huailuo dodged her flailing while laughing. “How does it feel to be the brightest star of the night?”

Xu Zhiqiao lifted the megaphone to her mouth, seething. “Ji Huailuo is a giant asshole!”

The loudspeaker’s clarity was top-notch. Her voice echoed across the hall.

“……”

Dead silence.

Xu Zhiqiao wanted to cry.

Zhen Chuang and Hua Qingyang hurried over to coax her. “Little Bao, your singing was amazing! Big Brothers are taking you out for dinner—it’s all booked!”

Humiliated beyond belief, Xu Zhiqiao had no interest in the rest of the show. She hung her head and walked out of the venue.

Ji Huailuo and the others were still wrapping things up and didn’t come out right away.

The night breeze rustled the treetops. Faint music drifted from the auditorium behind her.

Xu Zhiqiao exhaled and turned back.

Then froze.

By the outer wall of the auditorium, Zhou Cong leaned casually, a half-burned cigarette hanging from his lips. One leg bent slightly, his gaze dark and unreadable as it fixed on her.

Xu Zhiqiao’s nerves short-circuited.

Didn’t Ji Huailuo say he cut ties with him?

Why was Zhou Cong here?

She had gone all out, relying on Ji Huailuo to hold the line.

And now?

Now what?

“What,” Zhou Cong curved one side of his mouth into a lazy smirk, “disappointed to see me?”

“……”

Under the dim lighting, tree shadows flickered over the ground like mysterious creatures creeping through the night.

Xu Zhiqiao’s back chilled. Her throat was dry, unable to make a sound.

Zhou Cong pinched the cigarette between two fingers and stubbed it out against the wall, rising slowly.

He wore casual clothes, yet somehow looked even taller and more imposing. Xu Zhiqiao instinctively stepped back.

“What are you so scared of?” Zhou Cong’s eyes dropped to her face. He met her gaze. “Little Bao’s singing was beautiful. Big Brother recorded all of it.”

“……” Xu Zhiqiao’s heart sank, gripped by a vague dread. “Big Brother Zhou Cong…”

“Mm?” He drawled lazily. “Still willing to call me that?”

Xu Zhiqiao lowered her head, fingers nervously twisting together.

A breeze carried a faint trace of smoke. It tickled her throat and she turned her face, coughing lightly.

Zhou Cong paused his step, maintaining a one-meter distance. His voice came rough and low. “You trying to kill me?”

Soft didn’t work. Hard didn’t work either.

Coaxing? No use. Yelling? Worse.

Xu Zhiqiao’s nostrils flared. Whether from emotion or something else, a wave of unspeakable sadness surged to her eyes. Tears spilled without warning.

“Can’t you just… hic… stop bullying me…”

Zhou Cong felt like his heart was being crushed and twisted.

“I want to be good to you, but you won’t let me.”

She sobbed in broken hiccups, clearly overwhelmed and aggrieved. Zhou Cong’s throat burned. He used his palm to wipe away her tears.

“Baobao…”

Xu Zhiqiao looked up, pitiful with her nose all red. “You’re not allowed to call me Baobao.”

“……” Zhou Cong’s lips tightened into a line. “Then tell me, what do you want me to do?”

Xu Zhiqiao: “Go away. Like Brother Qingyang and Brother Zhen Chuang. Just… stop clinging to me…”

Zhou Cong laughed bitterly. “I tried. I couldn’t.”

Her lips trembled, and fresh tears welled up again. “I just… don’t want this.”

“Please,” Zhou Cong murmured helplessly, “have some mercy on me, okay?”

Stay away?

As if he hadn’t tried.

But after just two days without her, it felt like there was a hole in his chest.

She was singing in the auditorium. He stood outside. The night wind blew, and the emptiness inside him only grew.

It was like a traveler in a foreign land suddenly hearing their native tongue—homesickness rushed in.

But Zhou Cong wasn’t homesick. He realized, painfully, that the hole in his heart was the space where his emotions had been.

He had lost something.

Work, money, power, family, friends—none of it could fill that void.

Only Xu Zhiqiao could.

Only her.

What could Zhou Cong do?

He wasn’t good at dealing with girls. When he wanted something, he took it.

But with her, he’d been restraining himself. Always holding back, afraid of going too far and hurting her.

But she was so delicate.

He hadn’t even done anything, and she was already crying like this.

What else could he do?

“I don’t want to force you,” Zhou Cong’s voice was hoarse, “but look at everything you’ve done—spreading rumors, blocking me, flip-flopping—and I’m not even allowed to be mad? Only you can bully me, and I’m not allowed to hit back, is that it?”

Xu Zhiqiao choked. “You’re the one who said… you wanted… that thing.”

Zhou Cong pinched her chin and made her meet his eyes. “Add me back. And no more of this nonsense. This time, I’ll let it go. Okay?”

This was him giving in.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

He’d planned to give her a proper scolding.

Xu Zhiqiao hiccupped reflexively.

“Stop crying,” Zhou Cong’s voice dropped to a whisper, “what you’re doing right now? That’s called pulling strings. That’s playing dirty. Got it?”