Green plums cannot become lovers.

"One hundred and twenty-eight...one hundred and thirty-five...one hundred and forty-seven..."

The number finally stopped at "152".

This exceeds the total number of votes by 32.

Kita Ikuyo stared blankly at the number for a long time before she came to her senses.

"Over-sold?" Her voice was a little unsteady, as if she hadn't recovered from the shock.

"No, no!" Hongxia quickly said, "The system must not have reacted yet! Someone must have failed to pay, and more spots will be released!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the number jumped again, changing from 152 to 163.

"It's still rising!!"

"Oh my god! Oh my god!!"

The two girls hugged each other, jumping and skipping with excitement.

Yamada Ryo slowly turned his head to look at An and Asuka, who were quietly putting away their guitars.

Her eyes held a complex mix of emotions—surprise, admiration, and a hint of awe, as if to say, "So this is the power of a top star."

An and Asuka met her gaze and raised their eyebrows slightly.

"what happened?"

“…It’s nothing.” Yamada Ryo paused for a rare moment, then said, “I just think that we were a bit silly to try to sell tickets ourselves.”

An and Asuka chuckled softly.

“I’m not stupid,” he laughed. “It’s only right that I take responsibility for my own problems. I’m just lending a hand.”

Liang didn't say anything more, but just nodded slightly.

Over there, Kita and Nijika finally calmed down a bit from their excitement. Panting, they exchanged a glance, then turned to An and Asuka in unison.

"Senior Anhe!"

"Asuka-kun!"

They spoke at the same time, and then stopped at the same time.

An and Asuka looked at them: "Hmm?"

Kita Yu / q?un Yi Ling Yi Ni (? four) Wu Jiu Si? Jiu Ba Dai took a deep breath and tried to make her tone sound more formal—although her excited, shining eyes completely betrayed her.

"Um... I really, really, really thank you!"

As she spoke, Chao'an and Fei Niao bowed deeply.

Hongxia quickly followed suit and bowed.

"Me too! Thank you so much!"

An and Asuka looked at the two girls bowing at a 90-degree angle in front of them, and then at Ryo beside them, who, although not bowing, clearly expressed "I thank you too" in her eyes, and sighed helplessly.

"Alright, stop. You can thank me after the tickets are sold out and the show is over."

Kita Ikuyo straightened up and blinked: "Not sold out yet? Didn't it already exceed 150?"

"That's because there are many people rushing to buy them, not because there are many tickets."

An and Asuka explained, "The actual capacity is limited, and the system will adjust based on payment. In the end, the maximum number of people who can get in is around 120."

"What about the rest of the people?" Hongxia asked.

“Watch the live stream.” An and Asuka said matter-of-factly, “Bico has a live streaming function, so we can just start a live stream.”

"That's right!" Kita clapped his hands. "We can even stream it live! Wouldn't that mean even more people can watch it!"

“Yes.” An and Asuka nodded. “And the number of viewers watching the live stream might even be more than those watching in person.”

He spoke casually, as if he were merely stating a common fact.

But as Hongxia listened, a complex mix of emotions welled up inside her.

—More audience members than there were at the venue.

That means that this newly formed student band, making their first official stage appearance, could be seen by tens of thousands of people at the same time.

tension.

look forward to.

I'm also a little... scared.

She clenched her fists instinctively.

An and Asuka noticed her movements and glanced at her.

"nervous?"

“…Yes.” Hongxia honestly admitted, “A little.”

“That’s normal,” An and Asuka said. “When I first went on stage, I was even more nervous than you.”

"Huh?" Hongxia looked up. "Really?"

“It’s fake.” An and Asuka nodded. “Back then, it was in a small venue in Aichi, with only a few dozen people in the audience. When I played the first chord, my hands were shaking.”

He spoke calmly, as if he were talking about something from a long time ago.

But Hongxia felt inexplicably at ease as she listened.

It turns out that even people like An and Asuka have moments of nervousness.

"So... how did you overcome it?" she asked.

“No way,” Anhe Asuka said. “I’ve been tense ever since.”

"Huh??"

“It’s normal to be nervous,” he explained. “It means you care. If you don’t care, you won’t be nervous. The key is not to eliminate nervousness, but to do things well even when you’re nervous.”

He paused, then looked at Hongxia.

“You’ve practiced very hard during this time. You’ve mastered the piece, and your coordination is improving. When you go on stage, just think about ‘bringing out what we’ve practiced,’ and that’s enough.”

As Hongxia listened to his words, the tension in her heart seemed to dissipate somewhat.

She nodded vigorously.

"Well! I see!"

Kita Ikuyo raised her hand: "I was nervous too! But I also memorized it! I can do well even when I'm nervous!"

Yamada Ryo, as always, replied simply: "Same as above."

An and Asuka looked at them, a slight smile playing on their lips.

He recalled his first performance, when he wasn't nervous at all; they had all been fooled.

"That's good."

In the following days, the band's practice pace noticeably quickened.

On the one hand, the performance was approaching and time was tight; on the other hand, with the ticket crisis resolved, everyone could focus more on practice—no longer having to think about "what if the tickets don't sell" while practicing.

Kita Ikuyo's progress is even faster than before.

Whether it was because the pressure had lessened or because she knew there would be a large audience on the day of the performance, her practice was exceptionally good. The chord transitions that she used to always get stuck on, she could now connect smoothly; the parts where she used to rush the beat, she could now keep up with the rhythm steadily.

“Not bad,” An and Asuka would always say with a brief affirmation.

Every time he heard his affirmation, Kita's eyes would light up, and he would practice even harder.

Nijika's drumming has become much more stable. As the rhythmic core of the band, her performance directly affects the overall stability of the band. Previously, she would occasionally get distracted because of worries about Kita and ticketing, but now, her attention is completely focused on the music.

Liang's bass playing remained as steady as ever. Only occasionally, during practice breaks, would she take out a small notebook and scribble in it. Kita, curious, asked what she was writing, and she replied expressionlessly, "Observation notes."

"Observe what?"

"The evolutionary process of humans under pressure."

"...Senior Ryo, you're still as strange as ever."

"yuе漪·亦⊙丝吴韭罒疤 Thank you for the compliment."

An and Asuka continued to play the role of "temporary guitarist + half-coach". He would point out areas for improvement for everyone, adjust unreasonable parts of the arrangement, and give hints with eyes and gestures during ensemble playing. But he never said things like "You're doing it wrong here" or "You're wrong there", which would discourage people. Instead, he would say things like "Try this and see if it goes better" or "You can play this part a little lighter".

He always remembered that he was only a temporary addition. Ultimately, it was these three girls who would stand on the stage. His job was to help them become better, not to make them depend on him.

A week flew by in this high-intensity training.

Before we knew it, it was the day before the performance.

June 1st, 6:30 PM.

A long queue had already formed outside STARRY.

Ichi Nijika peeked out from the backstage area and almost lost her balance.

"How many... how many people..."

“I estimate it’s already over a hundred,” Yamada Ryo reported calmly, standing beside her. “And it’s still increasing.”

"How can there be so many..." Hongxia clutched her chest, feeling like her heart was about to jump out of her chest. "There were only 120 tickets..."

“Some people lined up two hours in advance,” Liang said. “And some people were holding up support signs at the entrance.”

"A support sign?!"

"Hmm. It says 'flying bird' on it."

Hongxia remained silent for two seconds.

"...As expected, most of them came for the birds."

"That's normal. With two million followers, even if only one percent of them came, there would be two thousand people. Now, only a little over a hundred are coming, which is already very few."

"...You're right, but I'm even more nervous now."

Liang glanced at her and, unusually, reached out and patted her shoulder.

"come on."

Hongxia took a deep breath and nodded vigorously.

"Ok!"

On the other side of the backstage, Kita Ikuyo was holding her guitar, practicing the chord changes one last time in front of the wall.

Her fingers moved nimbly across the strings, her movements far more fluid than a week ago. These seven days of grueling training had transformed her from a novice who couldn't even hold a C chord steadily into a competent guitarist capable of playing an entire piece—though still far from being a "master," at least she wouldn't be a burden anymore.

"Still practicing?" An and Asuka's voices came from the side.

Kita turned his head, a hint of nervousness flashing in his amber eyes, but more so excitement.

"Okay! Let's go over it one last time! What if I forget it when I go on stage!"

“I won’t forget,” An and Asuka said. “After practicing so many times, my muscles have memorized it.”

"really?"

"Really, with your current level, you'll have no problem going on stage."

Kita paused for a moment, then a big smile spread across his face.

"Thank you, Senior Anhe!"

An and Asuka nodded without saying anything more, then turned to tune their guitars.

As Kita watched his retreating figure, he suddenly recalled that evening in the park ten days ago.

Back then, she was crouching at the entrance of STARRY, too scared to go in, and he led her in. Back then, she felt unworthy of joining the band, and he told her, "If you don't want to be seen as a coward, go back and face it." Back then, she was anxious about not being able to practice the piano well, and he corrected her posture hand in hand, practicing with her again and again.

In just over ten days, it seems like a lot of things have changed.

But it seems that the most important thing has never changed.

"Kita—" Nijika's voice came from afar, "It's about to start! Come quick!"

"coming!"

Kita Ikuyo picked up her guitar, took a deep breath, and walked towards the stage.

Pushing open the backstage door, you're greeted by bright stage lights.