Yu showed up early at the community arts center.
The moment he stepped through the front gates, he was transported to a world that smelled of chalk dust and cheap perfume—plastic chairs, hand-painted posters, and hopeful dreams taped to every wall.
The "Youth Talent Show" preliminary auditions were held in the same rundown hall every year. The stage lights flickered, the mics made that annoying feedback squeal, and the judges looked like they'd rather be at lunch.
But Yu wasn't here to perform.
He was here to find her.
Jiang Meixuan.
In his last life, she was just a name on a forum—one of those sad "what if" stories.
A brilliant singer, discovered too young, signed too fast, and buried under a mountain of bad contracts. She'd vanished before she ever had the chance to truly shine.
But Yu remembered that voice.
It haunted him for years.
And now, he had the chance to find her before the world did.
He signed up as a volunteer coordinator—easy enough, since no one wanted to work for free in the summer heat. They handed him a clipboard and told him to "manage the line."
Perfect.
He scanned each contestant that walked through the door—some too nervous, some overconfident, all ordinary.
Until her.
She walked in quietly, a worn canvas bag slung over one shoulder, wearing an oversized school shirt and no makeup.
But the second she stepped into the light, Yu knew.
That was her.
Jiang Meixuan.
She wasn't stunning in a traditional way—not yet—but there was something magnetic about her. A calm in her eyes. A steadiness in her posture. A voice that hadn't even spoken, yet already had weight.
Yu stepped forward, clipboard in hand.
"Name?" he asked, pretending not to know.
She looked up at him, voice soft but clear.
"Jiang Meixuan."
He smiled. Jackpot.
The audition began, and Yu slipped quietly into the back row of the hall.
Jiang stood on stage, the mic stand almost too tall for her. The judges barely glanced up.
Then she started to sing.
It wasn't a powerful voice. Not flashy.But it was pure. Like spring water flowing over smooth stones. Every note rang clear, emotional, unforced.
By the second verse, the entire room had gone quiet.
Even the grumpy sound tech had looked up.
By the time she finished, the judges were staring at her like they'd just seen a ghost.
One of them whispered, "Who is she?"
Yu leaned back in his seat.
Bingo.
After the show, as contestants were filtering out, Yu found her near the exit, sitting alone with her bag on her lap.
"Hey," he said.
She looked up.
"You were amazing in there."
"...Thanks," she replied, slightly wary.
Yu hesitated for a beat—then went for it.
"I have a feeling about you. Big things. And I want to help."
She raised an eyebrow. "You're... a volunteer?"
"For now," he said with a grin. "But I won't be for long."
She gave a small, uncertain smile. "Are you trying to be my manager?"
"Not yet," he said. "Let's start with lunch."