Chapter 25: Do Not Grieve That There Are No Kindred Spirits Ahead

After reading Li Lianfeng’s Weibo, Xu Ze frowned. This old man seemed to harbor a deep hostility toward him. Curious, he scrolled through Li Lianfeng’s earlier posts and suddenly understood—Li Lianfeng had previously posted, asserting that “Dream Ode” was never incomplete. Xu Ze’s completion of the lyrics had drawn so much attention, which was tantamount to slapping Li Lianfeng in the face. No wonder the old man was so antagonistic.

Just then, his aunt Song Xiaoqing called.

“Hello, Xu Ze! Are you alright?” His aunt’s voice sounded worried.

Xu Ze replied breezily, “I’m perfectly fine. You already know?”

“Of course I know. So many people are talking about you online. Are you really alright?”

Hearing his aunt’s concern, Xu Ze felt a warmth he hadn’t expected. The feeling of family worrying about him was strangely comforting.

He scratched the back of his head and laughed, “I’m really fine. I don’t care at all. By the way, did you see last night’s show, Auntie? Why didn’t you ask me about it?”

“Hmph, I was waiting for you to confess! You sneaky brat, joining programs without telling me in advance.” His aunt’s tone turned curious. “Tell me, how did you suddenly learn to write songs? And you sang so well, too. When I used to ask you to come to KTV with me, you always refused.”

Xu Ze answered casually, “I just picked it up online, figured it out myself.”

On the other end, Song Xiaoqing nodded silently. Xu Ze had always been clever—he could master anything after learning it once. Their family never pressured him, never sent him to tutoring classes, yet he managed to get into Tsinghua and Peking University all on his own. She had boasted about him to her colleagues at the hospital for quite some time.

“By the way, Auntie, are you still living in the hospital dormitory?”

“Yes, why?”

Xu Ze rubbed his nose and said, “Let me tell you a secret—my song is getting tons of downloads on music platforms. Next month, I might earn hundreds of thousands. I’ll rent you a bigger apartment, how about that?”

“How much? Hundreds of thousands?” Song Xiaoqing was shocked. “Is singing really that profitable?”

“It’s not the singing that’s lucrative,” Xu Ze replied with a touch of pride. “It’s your nephew’s song that’s truly remarkable.”

“Yes, yes, my nephew is the best. But, Xiao Zeze, my bag has faded lately, the season’s changing and I barely have any clothes, and my phone is laggy as ever.” Suddenly, Song Xiaoqing switched tones, teasing him.

Xu Ze laughed grandly, “Buy them! I’ll buy everything for you!”

“Forget it, Auntie’s just joking. Don’t waste your money carelessly when you earn it. Save more.” She advised, “Housing prices in the capital are so high. Keep saving, and with Auntie’s help, maybe you’ll have enough for a down payment soon.”

“Mm, I know.” Xu Ze agreed without saying much more.

He knew his aunt had always been saving, trying to help him with a down payment. Her salary wasn’t low, but she still chose to live in the modest dormitory provided by her workplace, and her phone was four or five years old, yet she couldn’t bring herself to replace it.

His aunt was beautiful, but she’d never dated anyone. Every time his grandmother urged her, she’d brush it off, saying modern women weren’t in a hurry.

Xu Ze understood her intentions, but never commented. He knew his aunt’s character—once she made up her mind, she would see it through. Coincidentally, Xu Ze was the same—what he decided, he would accomplish.

Next month, his earnings would finally come in. The music platform royalties were substantial, and the rewards from “The Immortal” added up nicely. He’d been to his aunt’s dorm before; it was even worse than his student dorm.

His aunt reminded him again not to pay too much attention to online chatter. Seeing that Xu Ze truly wasn’t bothered, she finally hung up.

Xu Ze stared at his phone, lost in thought, then opened Weibo. He hadn’t planned to respond to anything—he never intended to use “Dream Ode” to prove anything. But now that everyone believed he was seeking fame, he decided to play along.

He opened his Weibo page and posted a short message, just a few words:

“Fear not that you’ll have no friends on the road ahead, (…)”

After posting, he opened WeChat and sent a message to Xu Yan: “Boss, I’m about to use your recording studio!”

Xu Yan quickly replied, “Go ahead, I’ll have the reception leave the door open for you.”

Xu Ze waved goodbye to Fatty and headed out.

He needed to record a song for tomorrow’s show. He’d prepared one, but now he’d decided to choose another.

Meanwhile, Xu Qing was getting anxious.

So many people online were criticizing Xu Ze. She wanted to defend him, but she wasn’t famous, and her voice was barely heard.

“This Li Lianfeng!” Xu Qing inhaled sharply, feeling her chest about to burst with anger. She’d met Li Lianfeng a few times before with Director Luo, and thought he was a cultured, learned literary scholar. Who knew he’d spent a lifetime studying ancient poetry only to end up in the gutter.

Xu Ze’s completed line was simply perfect!

She’d hoped Director Luo, the vice president of the Ancient Poetry Association, could speak up for Xu Ze, but now he was nowhere to be found. Calls weren’t answered, messages ignored, as if he’d absconded with the verses.

She was too upset to even read novels.

Lying on her bed, she restlessly browsed Weibo, when a trending topic caught her eye:

#XuZePosts#

Xu Qing muttered, “Oh no, oh no.”

Xu Ze probably couldn’t resist retorting, and she could already imagine netizens scolding him for disrespecting elders.

She hurriedly clicked in.

“Eh?”

Xu Qing’s eyes widened. Xu Ze hadn’t lashed out—he’d simply posted a mysterious, poetic line.

“Fear not that you’ll have no friends on the road ahead, (…)”

What did it mean? There was more to the line, but he’d left only a parenthesis and ellipsis—was he inviting everyone to guess the rest?

The first line seemed to say, don’t worry about having no confidants ahead. Was he subtly hinting that he had no kindred spirits? That no one understood him?

Xu Qing breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness, Xu Ze hadn’t acted impulsively.

Still, the half-line of poetry was rather enigmatic.

She grew curious about the second line.

So did Miao Miao.

Just after Xu Ze finished recording, he saw Miao Miao’s message.

“Xu Ze, what’s the second half of your poem?”

Xu Ze replied with a smile, “Secret.”

Miao Miao: “You’re quite mysterious.”

Xu Ze touched his nose, thinking, you’re mysterious too.

He could tell Miao Miao wasn’t lacking for money—her hat alone, which she lent him that night, cost over thirty thousand online.

He wondered why she sang at bars if she truly loved music—why not debut, especially since she was so beautiful.

He still remembered the stunning impression he had when he first saw her face.

After Xu Ze’s post, netizens quickly erupted again. They hadn’t expected Xu Ze would dare post at such a time.

“Xu Ze, is this a line of poetry? Why didn’t you finish it?”

‘No confidants—does Xu Ze mean he has no friends?’

“The talented scholar is showing off again.”

“Xu Ze doesn’t even dare finish his sentence in front of the old literary master.”

…

Xu Ze ignored all these comments.