Chapter 4: The Scoundrel Helolo

“When you step into this hall of joy, carrying all your dreams and hopes upon your back…”
She remembered the end of the college entrance exam, leaving behind her hometown and family, arriving in this unfamiliar, cold city.

Wang Xinling loved music; she always had since childhood, which is why she applied to the Kyoto Conservatory of Music, coming here to pursue the musical dream she had sworn to chase for her whole life.

Carrying all her family’s hopes and her own dreams, she stepped into this paradise-like temple of music.

Here, she found friends chasing the same dreams, learned from erudite mentors, and saw her dreams dazzling before her eyes.

The tears Wang Xinling had suppressed began to tremble—not because of the senior she adored, but because of her dreams and hopes.

The video kept playing, the music continued to flow.

“Faces painted in every color, no one remembers what you look like. After three rounds of drinks, you sit in the corner, stubbornly singing your bitter song…”

Wang Xinling felt herself drifting, almost in a trance.

In life, everyone meets countless people, but how many do we truly remember?

At this moment—

She suddenly felt an overwhelming rush of emotion, her tears could no longer be restrained. Silent drops welled up and streamed down her flushed cheeks.

The senior she’d secretly admired for two years—would he ever remember her?

Wang Xinling asked herself, not just in her heart—would he, years later, recall that there was once a junior who liked him for two whole years?

Perhaps, she should be grateful for this confession.

Because she confessed, he finally knew that in some corner of this school, there was a girl who liked him.

Wang Xinling’s heart was full of bittersweet sorrow. For a girl to summon the courage to confess, how much bravery must that take, and how deeply must she like that boy?

Maybe, only she would cry quietly here in secret; perhaps the senior had never spared her a thought.

Only a love that runs both ways can bring true joy.

Wang Xinling, tears of bitterness streaming down, let her memories of the senior swirl in her mind as she drifted in the whirlpool of the song’s emotions.

“Hear it drowned in the clamor, you raise your glass and say to yourself: one toast to the sunrise, one toast to the moonlight…”

Perhaps she really should drink a glass, to the moonlight that witnessed the fading of her love.

And another, to tomorrow’s new dawn, to the rising sun.

Then, the music abruptly stopped.

Wang Xinling’s emotions, just on the verge of bursting forth, were suddenly cut off as the music ended and the atmosphere vanished.

Anxiously, she clicked into the uploader’s main page. Many musicians liked to split their song videos into two parts, some even went as far as three.

But regardless of how many parts, the next would usually be posted soon, just a few minutes in between.

Yet, on the uploader’s page, there was only that single video.

No matter, just wait a few minutes—he’d post the next part soon… Though she was anxious, she could do nothing else.

She tapped the video, about to listen again, when she noticed the upload time: two hours ago.

Two hours ago?

Still no second half.

What was with this uploader named He Luoluo?

Frustrated, Wang Xinling opened the comments, only to be hit with a wave of disgruntled complaints:

[PeakCao]: “He Luoluo, please, just be human.”
[Most Beautiful Fairy]: “I just got dumped and wanted to pretend I was fine, but after listening to this song ‘Melancholy’, I cried until I weighed two hundred pounds.”
[Unrivaled Handsome]: “I cried too—not because of the song, but because He Luoluo the scoundrel made me mad.”
[Kakafu]: “Where did this He Luoluo come from, posting only half the song? What, were you born without a sense of decency?”
[Bullhead]: “Even the mules on the farm wouldn’t dare slack off like this.”
[Uncle Pan]: “He Luoluo, listen to your uncle’s advice—the art of cliffhangers is beyond you, these waters run deep. Just post the second half, I won’t blame you.”
[Grumpy Old Bro]: “Shameless scoundrel He Luoluo, come out and face your punishment.”
[Tataki]: “He Luoluo, I really love your singing. I want to send you some local specialties from my hometown—no other reason, just because I like you.”
[UltraSharp Blade Shop]: “I run an online store specializing in razor blades from all brands. If you need any, search ‘UltraSharp Blade Shop’ on Jingmao.”
[72]: “I haven’t listened yet, but the comment section is already extremely satisfying (dog head for safety).”
[4537846485]: “He Luoluo, are you the devil?”

“……”

Seeing so many kindred spirits, Wang Xinling’s erupting volcano cooled a little.

With her slender fingers she quickly typed: “Damn you, cliffhanger fiend! You owe me my feelings!”

As soon as her comment appeared, replies flooded in: “He the Dog deceives an underage girl’s feelings—live drama unfolding.”

“I’m not underage!” Wang Xinling muttered, tossing her phone aside, suspecting they were hinting her figure was as flat as a child’s.

Lying on her beloved bed, she found herself unable to sleep—not because of the senior she adored, but because of that cliffhanger scoundrel He Luoluo.

Too infuriating!

A hundred times worse than someone stopping mid-sentence.

Kicking her legs in frustration, Wang Xinling felt her composure crumbling—this person was so damn irritating, he surely didn’t have a girlfriend.

She always considered herself to have a good temper, but even she wanted to beat up He Luoluo—just how hateful was this cliffhanger?

“Xinling, are you alright?” The dorm’s eldest, Liu Suqiao, heard her kicking and assumed she was still upset over being rejected by her senior.

Hearing her dorm leader’s voice, Wang Xinling’s eyes lit up, a little devil whispering in her ear.

She hit ‘share,’ sending the video to the dorm’s group chat. “I’m fine, Qiaoqiao, I just shared an amazing music short video in the group—absolutely fantastic, super healing.”

“I’ll listen,” Liu Suqiao replied, clicking the link, which bounced her to the DouShow app.

“‘Melancholy’—what an interesting name.”

The video started, music flowing softly.

Wang Xinling sat up quietly—she wanted to see Qiaoqiao’s reaction when she went mad.

“When you step into this hall of joy, carrying all your dreams and hopes…”

Unconsciously, Liu Suqiao was now sitting up.

She was captivated by the song, emotions surfacing.

She too had come from another province, carrying her family’s hopes and worries, chasing her own dreams.

“Faces painted in every color, no one remembers what you look like. After three rounds of drinks, you sit in the corner, stubbornly singing your bitter song. Hear it buried in the clamor, you raise your glass and say to yourself: one toast to the sunrise, one toast to the moonlight…”

Liu Suqiao drew in a breath, ready to let her feelings flow.

But then, the music stopped abruptly. The breath she’d held nearly choked her, and her anger soared as she mimicked Wang Xinling’s earlier actions.

Then she froze.

Just this one video, and after two hours, still no next part. Was it really not coming?

In that moment, she realized she’d fallen into Xinling’s trap.

Her heart itched with frustration—what to do? Liu Suqiao’s eyes blazed with anger; that little rascal Xinling was going to pay.

Trying to ease her irritation, Liu Suqiao said, “The music video Xinling shared in the group is truly amazing—definitely a hit in the making.”

Wang Xinling chimed in to the girl at the foot of her bed: “I just finished—this is a song you’ll regret not hearing, but regret even more if you don’t share after listening.”

“Is it really that magical?” Liu Suqiao told the girl at the foot of her bed, “I’ll give it a listen—if it’s not that good, you two owe me breakfast tomorrow.”

Two minutes later, after leaving a comment, she quietly shared the link to her microchat moments.

Next came Weibo, Tieba, Zhihu—she shared it everywhere before finally putting down her phone, yet still unable to sleep.

“‘Melancholy’ really does ease sorrow—but only if you share it with friends who haven’t heard it yet.”

That was the conclusion Wang Xinling came to, but it was already too late.

At the same time—

Kyoto, Sanhe Bay high-end residential district.
—
(To be revised later)
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The cat is being cute here, trading for some votes.