Chapter 23

After leaving the stage, the winning band of the PK returned to the rest area, gathering in small groups to chat.

According to the show’s regulations, the bands needed to wait in the rest area for the staff to introduce the rules for the next round of the competition.

The rest area was quite noisy, and Jiang Ji went outside alone to catch some fresh air. Originally, he intended to smoke a cigarette, but as he lit it, he suddenly remembered Qin Qingzhuo’s words: “Jiang Ji, don’t smoke anymore.”

So he watched the cigarette burn down between his fingers without taking a puff. Even he couldn’t explain why.

Back in the rest area, Peng Keshi was still sitting in her original spot, while Zhong Yang took on the role of Asperatus’ diplomat, engaging fervently with members of other bands as if they were old friends.

Sitting in the seat opposite to his original spot was a musician from a band he didn’t recognize—besides the bands they had competed against, Jiang Ji didn’t remember much about the others.

He walked over and sat down across from them.

His phone buzzed, and he took it out to see a message from Qin Qingzhuo: “Jiang Ji, don’t rush off, need to talk to you.”

He typed out a simple “Okay” in response.

Initially, he had thought of telling Zhong Yang that he was leaving first, but now, Jiang Ji leaned back in his chair and thought, forget it, I’ll wait a while longer. It should be ending soon.

It was really noisy here. He plugged in his earphones and absentmindedly opened his music app, scrolling through today’s recommended playlist. He scrolled through it without finding any songs of interest.

He aimlessly browsed through the music app, and then, when he saw the name “Qin Qingzhuo,” his finger paused for a moment. After a few seconds, he clicked on the song.

The noise from the conversation between the musician opposite him and Peng Keshi seeped through his earphones: “So you wrote such a powerful melody for ‘Daytime Roar’? That’s impressive, girl, your style is wild enough.”

Peng Keshi, who was texting on her phone, lifted her head at the remark. She smiled politely but distantly at the musician, not saying anything.

“Oh, by the way, you should know me, Qu Lei from Urban Collapse,” Qu Lei reached out his hand to Peng Keshi, “like you, a bassist.”

His hand extended, but Peng Keshi didn’t shake it, only saying “Hello” and asking, “Do you need something from me?”

“Hey, can our band collaborate with you in the future?” Qu Lei withdrew his hand from the air, feeling no embarrassment. “We all really like your style.”

“Our band hasn’t ventured into this business,” Peng Keshi said, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not about making an appointment with your band, it’s just with you. Your band won’t be so strict with you, right? Can’t you take on private gigs?”

“I’m not very interested, sorry,” Peng Keshi said, smiling coldly, then she brightened her phone screen and continued to reply to messages.

She had thought she had made it clear that she didn’t want to continue this conversation, but the other party was still persistent.

“Who are you texting, your boyfriend?”

Peng Keshi actually wanted to get up and leave directly, but that wouldn’t be very polite, so she restrained herself, just furrowing her brow without saying anything.

“Girl, you might not know much about our band yet. How about this, tomorrow night we’re participating in a music festival, over in Panshan. Come over and play with us. Let’s collaborate on a performance together. It’ll be really cool. Our band has never had a girl join us before.”

“I’m really not interested,” Peng Keshi repeated, her tone even colder this time.

About to make an excuse to go to the restroom to avoid this person, Jiang Ji sitting across from them took off his headphones and spoke up, “How much are you offering?”

Qu Lei was taken aback, “What?”

“You wanted to borrow our bassist for a performance, right?” Jiang Ji looked at him expressionlessly, “How much are you offering?”

“No, buddy, this is just for fun,” Qu Lei smiled at Jiang Ji, though his tone had clearly changed, not as friendly as it was with Peng Keshi, “What are you thinking?”

“Just borrowing for free,” Jiang Ji said sarcastically, “Wasn’t the talk about collaborating also intended to be for free? You’re capable of degrading yourself like this. Which band are you from?”

“It’s not…” the other person seemed displeased, “I’m talking to the girl, what’s it to you?”

“Can’t you see she doesn’t want to chat with you?” Jiang Ji looked at Peng Keshi, “Peng Keshi, come sit over here. If there’s no money, there’s no point in wasting words.”

“Sure,” Peng Keshi stood up decisively and said to Qu Lei, “The boss called me, I’m going over there.”

Qu Lei was stunned, completely speechless now.

“Whether it’s about making music or making appointments,” Jiang Ji continued, looking at him, “send over the price and the requirements first, otherwise there’s no need to talk.”

“Damn it,” Qu Lei cursed under his breath, not loud but enough for Jiang Ji to hear.

He wanted to throw a punch at Jiang Ji, but there were cameras and staff around, so he didn’t dare to cause trouble.

Jiang Ji did hear it, but he wasn’t angered by it. He just looked calmly at Qu Lei, conveying a clear message—If you want to fight, come over, I’m ready anytime.

After glaring at Jiang Ji for a few seconds, Qu Lei didn’t dare to make any moves after all. He got up with a displeased expression, took a few steps, then turned around and discreetly flipped Jiang Ji off before muttering, “What a show-off, you’re just a nobody.”

Seeing Qu Lei leave, Peng Keshi lowered her voice and said to Jiang Ji, “Thanks.”

“If it makes you uncomfortable, just reject them directly,” Jiang Ji glanced at her, “Are you not annoyed by all his nonsense?”

“Very much so. I’ve rejected him several times,” Peng Keshi sighed, “Who knows why he keeps going on and on.”

“These kinds of people, the more polite you are, the more they’ll push,” Jiang Ji said, “All that talking, it’s better to dismiss them with just one word.”

Peng Keshi turned to look at him.

Jiang Ji’s tone was indifferent, “Get lost.”
*

Peng Keshi: “Okay, I’ll try that next time.”

Jiang Ji didn’t say anything more, he raised his hand and put on his headphones again.

Finally, getting rid of that person, she could listen to music quietly.

Fifteen minutes later, the door to the lounge was pushed open, and Chen Jia bustlingly rushed in, “Musicians, for the next round, we’ll still have inter-group PK. The difference from this round is that the next round’s PK opponents won’t be determined by drawing lots, but through mutual selection between the bands. So everyone can go back and discuss which band to choose as your opponent. On Thursday, we’ll need to record a segment separately to select the opponent. Everyone should prepare in advance.”

“Also, the usual rules apply. Send me the demos three days before the show, and communicate about the stage effects in advance. There shouldn’t be any last-minute surprises.” Chen Jia quickly explained the details of the competition, waved her hand towards the door, “If there are no questions, you can leave. Thanks for your hard work, everyone.”

The musicians stood up and walked out. Jiang Ji slung his guitar on his back, picked up his phone, and typed out a few words on the screen: “Where can I find you?”

The message was sent to Qin Qingzhuo, but there was no reply for a while. Jiang Ji walked out of the lounge, thinking about asking a random staff member where Qin Qingzhuo was. As he turned his head, he saw Qin Qingzhuo not far away, talking to the chief director, Shi Yao.

Qin Qingzhuo was leaning against the windowsill, the window behind him was open, letting the wind blow in, tousling his hair to the side of his face. He raised one hand and casually brushed his hair back.

Jiang Ji didn’t know what Shi Yao said, but he smiled slightly with his head lowered. In that moment, his expression seemed… gentle.

“Jiang Ji!” Zhong Yang raised his hand and patted Jiang Ji’s arm, following Jiang Ji’s gaze, “What are you looking at?”

He also saw Qin Qingzhuo, and a speculation formed in his mind. He deliberately whispered to Jiang Ji, “Hey, are they a couple?”

Jiang Ji retracted his gaze, “You also noticed?”

“They look pretty good together, don’t they? Look at Director Shi, so talented, and Qin Qingzhuo, he’s quite handsome, isn’t he?”

“In that case, why don’t you find someone who matches you?” Jiang Ji glanced at him, “I think the bassist from Urban Collapse isn’t bad.”

“F*ck, I’m straight!” Zhong Yang rolled his eyes.

“Didn’t see that coming,” Jiang Ji said.

Zhong Yang leaned close to Peng Keshi’s ear, covering his mouth so Jiang Ji couldn’t hear: “Look, he’s jealous, taking it out on me.”

Peng Keshi rolled her eyes at him in silence. “Come on, Zhong Yang, you’re taking it too seriously.”

“You’ll see,” Zhong Yang insisted solemnly, then remembered something. “Oh, almost forgot to tell you guys, guess why Midnight Temperature got a bye, and we can still beat them to advance?”

He intentionally teased them, but seeing both teammates showing little interest, he continued, “It turns out that after all the band PKs, the eliminated bands will have another chance based on audience votes… I thought the show suddenly grew a conscience, thought we were turning the tide, but nope!”

Zhong Yang hoped for some reaction from the two, but Peng Keshi couldn’t be bothered, and Jiang Ji was just leaning against the door frame, looking at the two ahead. Feeling uninterested, he added, “Also, I’ve arranged a good opponent for us next time, it’s The Crossing. It wasn’t easy for me to dig them up. They’re absolutely clean. I’ve already talked to them, next time we’ll choose each other. How about that?”

“Do as you please,” Jiang Ji said nonchalantly.

“I don’t mind either,” Peng Keshi said.

“Alright, it’s settled then. Can you two stop seeing through everything all the time… makes it seem like I’m the only uncool one,” Zhong Yang complained, then asked, “Jiang Ji, you’re still riding your motorcycle back, right? How about you, Sister Shi, want to have dinner together?”

“My grandfather is celebrating his birthday today, I need to go home for dinner,” Peng Keshi said.

“Oh, right…” Zhong Yang was about to mention Peng Keshi’s grandfather’s name but was stopped by a glance from her. He shut his mouth, “I know, keep it low-key. Sister Shi, please give my regards to Grandpa later. If there’s any official position available, I’ll do my best to fulfill it.”

“Alright, enough,” Peng Keshi chuckled, “Come with me, I’ll give you a ride home.”

“Great, thanks, Sister Shi!” Zhong Yang turned to Jiang Ji and waved, “Well then, Jiang Ji, I’m going with Sister Shi.”

After Zhong Yang left, Jiang Ji stood still for a few seconds before walking towards Qin Qingzhuo and Shi Yao.

Still a few steps away, Qin Qingzhuo noticed him, and his gaze shifted towards Jiang Ji. His eyes curved slightly, still with that lingering smile.

“What are you so happy about?,” Jiang Ji asked, his curiosity piqued, though he wasn’t typically a very curious person, this thought just popped into his mind.

Shi Yao also noticed Jiang Ji and paused the conversation he was having with Qin Qingzhuo, patting Qin Qingzhuo’s shoulder, “Well, Qingzhuo, let’s continue this another time. I’ll go ahead.”

Jiang Ji stood a couple of steps away, watching Qin Qingzhuo bid farewell to Shi Yao.

After Shi Yao left, Qin Qingzhuo walked towards him.

Facing Jiang Ji, who was a few centimeters shorter, Qin Qingzhuo had to slightly lift his gaze to meet his, “You won so convincingly, but you don’t seem happy?”

Jiang Ji didn’t answer his question, only asking, “What do you need from me?”

“It’s about the guitar,” Qin Qingzhuo said, “I know someone who should be able to fix your guitar.”

“Really?” Jiang Ji paused, then said, “Thank you.”

Qin Qingzhuo was sure that just now, in that fleeting moment, he saw a glimmer of light in Jiang Ji’s usually dark eyes. “Let’s go, go get your guitar, and I’ll take you to meet him.”

As he spoke, Qin Qingzhuo started walking towards the elevator leading to the underground parking lot, but Jiang Ji reached out and grabbed his arm.

Qin Qingzhuo stopped in his tracks, turning to look at him, “Hmm?”

Jiang Ji let go of his hand, “It’s too crowded right now. Let me take you on my motorcycle.”

Recalling the scene of the congested road that night, Qin Qingzhuo nodded, “Alright.”

Jiang Ji parked his motorcycle near the recording building, and Qin Qingzhuo followed him over, “Guess what Shi Director just talked to me about?”

“What?” Jiang Ji responded, unusually interested.

“He said your band has a lot of potential, and he plans to give you guys more screen time. Even I got praised for having good judgment because of your performance,” Qin Qingzhuo said, noticing that Jiang Ji’s face softened as he spoke. So the reason Qin Qingzhuo smiled while talking to Shi Yao was because they were discussing Asperatus?

As they reached where Jiang Ji had parked the motorcycle, Qin Qingzhuo took the helmet Jiang Ji handed him, “It seems that guitar is really important to you.”

“Hmm?” Jiang Ji glanced at him.

“Even after winning the competition, you seemed indifferent, but now you seem to be in a slightly better mood,” Qin Qingzhuo observed.

“Is that so?” Jiang Ji put on his helmet, fastening the strap, then, just like the first time he took Qin Qingzhuo on his motorcycle, he took off the guitar he had been carrying on his back and handed it to him, then sat on the motorcycle.

“Yes, it’s quite evident,” Qin Qingzhuo said, putting on the helmet and sitting behind Jiang Ji.

Perhaps because they were so close, Jiang Ji once again caught a whiff of the faint scent of osmanthus and a certain woody fragrance that reminded him of that drunken night when Qin Qingzhuo lay beside him. And the almost imperceptible warmth from the faint contact between their bodies.

Was he feeling good now? Qin Qingzhuo said so, and Jiang Ji suddenly realized that maybe he was.

Was it because the guitar situation was resolved? Not entirely, of course the guitar was important, and now that one worry was lifted off his chest, Jiang Ji felt relieved. But for him, fixing the guitar was a solemn matter that allowed him to breathe a sigh of relief. The sense of pleasure spreading from the depths of his heart at this moment seemed to come from elsewhere.

Could it be… Jiang Ji discreetly glanced at Qin Qingzhuo’s bent leg beside him.

“Steady now,” he said.

“Alright,” Qin Qingzhuo grabbed onto the edge of the rear seat.

“Don’t you know it’s dangerous to hold onto the back?” Jiang Ji furrowed his brows, his tone not pleasant, “Hold onto me.”

It took a moment for the person behind to tentatively place their hand on his waist, seeming a bit uncomfortable, “Like this?”

“You’ll fall off if you don’t hold on properly,” Jiang Ji twisted the handlebars and accelerated forward amidst the dull roar of the engine.

The tremendous force made the hands on his waist instinctively tighten, and after driving for a while, the furrow between Jiang Ji’s brows gradually smoothed out.

He leaned slightly forward, twisting the motorcycle’s handlebars once again, and amidst another round of louder roaring, he carried Qin Qingzhuo off into the distance.

TN:

JJ really moves fast.