The Stage Is Not Hers Alone

Liu Ying had made an art form of wielding her seniority. She knew exactly how to paint those junior boyfriends’ girlfriends as immature, petty, and graceless. The girls, too embarrassed to make a scene, could only swallow their resentment. Later they’d fight with their boyfriends. And Liu Ying would slide right into that crack, all understanding and compassion.

One by one, those fools became her conquests.

This mixer, on the surface, was her generous effort to help the boys find girlfriends. In reality, she’d only invited mousy, introverted girls—set dressing to make her shine.

She was the true leading lady.

The only flaw: Li Yuan was useless. Two roommates, both among the best-looking freshmen of their year, and he hadn’t managed to drag a single one along. She’d only invited him in the first place because of those connections.

Still, Liu Ying had been enjoying her reign as the center of attention.

Now one of the coveted juniors had finally arrived—but with a girlfriend who looked anything but easy to push around.

No matter. She’d dealt with every type of girl there was.

Liu Ying’s hand froze for only a heartbeat before she withdrew it as if nothing had happened. “Oh, little sister, don’t be so nervous. I was just looking after you both. You’re like kids to me.”

Xu Yi shrank deeper into Lu Xingyan’s arms on cue and blinked his grey-blue eyes, the daily-disposable colored contacts gleaming. “Thanks, sis. But could you maybe not block the door? I’d like to sing too.”

Liu Ying’s face stiffened. Awkwardly, she stepped aside.

The crowd who’d been spectating finally got a clear look at the girlfriend tucked against Lu Xingyan’s side.

She was like a life-sized figurine—exquisite from head to toe, a porcelain doll come to life.

Lu Xingyan drew her closer, pride swelling in his chest.

God, this felt good.

His wife’s waist was so slender.

His wife’s tongue was so sharp.

It sounded even sweeter when it was aimed at someone else.

Amid the murmurs of awe rippling through the room, Li Yuan felt a sudden, inexplicable surge of confidence. “Brother Yan, sister-in-law—should I queue up a love song for you two?”

Liu Ying cut him off before he could finish. She turned to Xu Yi with a show of warmth. “Love songs are so boring. Little sister, why don’t you sing a duet with me instead?”

Her tone was cloying, indulgent. But in her eyes, Xu Yi saw nothing but a challenge, absolute and predatory.

Li Yuan frowned. Under the table, he shot Lu Xingyan a message.

**Li Yuan:** Brother Yan, this senior is the star of the music club. She’s not a pro but still…

He was fairly certain she wanted to embarrass the sister-in-law. Her voice was sweet, sure, but in front of so many people, nerves might wreck her performance.

Lu Xingyan: Don’t worry.

Li Yuan saw the two short words and exhaled. They’d only been roommates for two weeks, but he’d always sensed Brother Yan was someone you could count on. The sister-in-law had to be formidable too.

Xu Yi glanced at the song Liu Ying had queued up on the screen. It was a duet originally sung by twins—rapid-fire pitch changes, laced with elements of yodeling. A voice-cracking trap if there ever was one.

She wanted to watch him humiliate himself.

Xu Yi smiled sweetly. As it happened, he’d practiced this exact song at home, following tutorial videos.

“Sure,” he said, taking the mic. “Which part should I sing?”

“I’ll give you the chorus.” Liu Ying tossed her ponytail with an air of generous concession. “It’s simpler. Not as high.”

Of course. The hardest section.

If she was going to treat him with this much hostility from the start, then he owed her no courtesy in return.

A few people in the crowd exchanged uneasy glances.

At last year’s campus singing competition, Liu Ying had performed this same duet with another junior girl. She’d assigned the lyrics exactly the same way. That girl had practiced for weeks—but nerves got her on the chorus. Her voice shattered. She was a shy thing to begin with. She’d quit the club entirely after that.

And now Liu Ying was pulling someone into the same trap.

The delicate accompaniment spilled from the speakers. Liu Ying stepped onto the low platform beside the display screen, cradling the standing mic with theatrical absorption, one hand tapping the beat.

She launched into the first verse. Her voice dripped with emotion, cloaking her in a hazy, romantic aura. No mistakes. Even the subtle flourishes were polished. To the untrained ear, it was flawless.

But Xu Yi, with his perfect pitch, furrowed his brow.

Passable. Her phrasing dragged at the ends. The head resonance never quite lifted. Nothing special.

He raised his mic. For a melody this intricate, he didn’t even need to stand.

He simply sat there, the voluminous skirt pooling around him, both hands wrapped demurely around the microphone.

Liu Ying finished her part and caught sight of him—still seated, not even making a move to rise. A flicker of vicious glee crossed her face.

Even she had to stand for this section. Otherwise, she’d never hit those notes. And the rapid descending runs? Forget it.

He was going to crack. Pitching his voice like that, so forced, so tight—there was no way he could pull this off.

But Xu Yi’s singing voice was an entirely different creature.

With a song this difficult, he couldn’t maintain the sweet, breathy affectation he used for speaking. Yet his natural timbre was ethereal, androgynous, with no need for artifice at all.

Even at the highest leap, the widest plunge, his expression remained effortless. Nothing fractured. No strain.

It was like listening to the original studio track playing in the room.

Liu Ying shot a suspicious glance at the monitor. The original vocals were off.

How was this possible…

The voice was weightless, unburdened—a breeze threading through willow branches, a pebble’s ripple kissing still water. Gentle. Luminous. Transporting.

Li Yuan understood, for the first time in his life, why people paid to hear someone sing live.

When the song ended, no one could speak.

Xu Yi set the mic down and turned to Liu Ying with studied innocence. “Senior, did I not sing well? Why is everyone so quiet?”

Liu Ying’s complexion had soured. Since childhood, KTV had been her stage. She’d even secretly taken lessons for years. Never, not once, had someone made her sound so utterly flat.

She forced a dry laugh. “So little sister studied music professionally. You should’ve said so earlier—now you’ve made me look like a fool.”

The words dripped with implication, a none-too-subtle suggestion that Xu Yi had deliberately set her up.

A few of the boys, easily led, turned odd looks toward Xu Yi. A trained singer bullying an amateur? Shameless.

“That was incredible!” Li Yuan couldn’t care less about any of that. He clapped with unbridled enthusiasm. “Sister-in-law, are you going to be a professional singer?”

Xu Yi allowed himself a small smile. “I’ve never had formal training. I’m probably miles behind the real professionals. I’ve just heard this song a few times.”

“Little sister, you sang beautifully, but there’s no need to lie.” Liu Ying pounced as if she’d finally caught him out, her tone veering toward the aggressive. “No one pulls off that song without practicing. It’s impossible.”

Xu Yi didn’t argue. Instead, he wilted into an expression of wounded innocence and shrank back against Lu Xingyan as if frightened.

Lu Xingyan patted his shoulder in a soothing gesture and fixed Liu Ying with a look that was far from friendly. “Just because you can’t do something doesn’t mean others can’t.”

Liu Ying was left sputtering, too furious to form words. But she recovered quickly. She poured a glass of fruit wine and made her way toward Xu Yi.

“You’re right, junior. That was my fault.” She lifted the glass. “Let me offer a toast as an apology.”

The boys were clustered close together. Liu Ying threaded her way through them—then abruptly stumbled, the glass tipping straight toward Xu Yi’s face.

The wine splashed across his cheeks.

His very first thought: thank god for waterproof cosmetics. The price tag justified itself.

Before he could even react, Liu Ying let out a piercing shriek that nearly rattled his skull.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry! Let me wipe that off for you—” She was already rummaging in her bag, pulling out a small foil packet. She tore it open and reached for Xu Yi’s face.

Xu Yi’s eyes darted sideways. The six characters printed on the packet froze his blood: *Disposable Makeup Remover Wipes*.

Panic detonated in his chest. He lurched backward, desperate to evade her hand—but Lu Xingyan was right behind him, and he toppled helplessly over.

The hard floor never met him. A solid, muscled arm caught him across the back.

Xu Yi found himself fully seated in Lu Xingyan’s lap, the man’s face filling his vision, a tangle of unreadable emotions swimming in those eyes.

Their gazes locked for a single suspended heartbeat. Then Lu Xingyan’s palm cupped Xu Yi’s cheek, shielding him from Liu Ying’s advance.

Heat flooded Xu Yi’s face. This was nothing like the thrill of the cinema. Lu Xingyan’s arms were so warm. He wanted to burrow into them and never leave. He turned his face into the hollow of Lu Xingyan’s neck, letting the man’s scent surround him completely. The faint fragrance of body wash drowned out the acrid reek of alcohol on his skin.

Lu Xingyan lifted his eyes to Liu Ying. She instinctively hid her hand behind her back.

“Senior, what exactly were you planning to do to my girlfriend with a makeup wipe?”

His voice was perfectly level. His expression was cold enough to frighten.

“N-nothing…” Liu Ying’s fingers clenched around the crumpled packet. “Just wet wipes. I was worried the drink wouldn’t come off with a tissue.”

Lu Xingyan laughed—a short, mirthless sound. He looked down and gently smoothed a stray strand of Xu Yi’s hair between his fingers. “Oh, is that so? Then why don’t you get on your knees and apologize to us?”

Somehow, from a face that beautiful, even such a vicious demand sounded almost like a favor.

The color drained from Liu Ying’s face to a sickly white. It had clearly never occurred to her that anyone would humiliate her so openly. Tears welled in her eyes, a portrait of pitiable distress. “Junior, I really didn’t mean it—”

“Why are you crying? You bullied my girlfriend, and now you’re playing the victim?” Lu Xingyan sneered. He wasn’t an idiot. He could spot a green tea b*tch from a mile away.

Every other girl in that room had been relegated to her backdrop, huddled in the corners, entertaining themselves. And those dullard boys—watching this scene unfold, even they could piece together enough of the picture. Their expressions turned complicated. No one spoke up for her.

“It seems the senior isn’t very welcoming toward other women. We’ll take our leave.”

Lu Xingyan rose, arm still secure around Xu Yi’s shoulders, and steered them toward the door.

Li Yuan, now with backup, cast a contemptuous glance back at the room before following.

The other girls had been desperate to leave all along. Without a word, they filed out together.

Liu Ying was left alone, her mask shredded, facing a room full of juniors whose gazes had lost their former heat.

The three of them booked their own private room. Xu Yi retreated to the restroom to wash the sticky fruit beer from his face. He reapplied his makeup before stepping back out.

Li Yuan and Lu Xingyan were already deep into a screaming duet. Lu Xingyan, likely drawing on some dance training, compensated for his utterly unsalvageable vocals with a hip-swaying swagger that was almost compelling—boy band energy, even. Li Yuan flailed like kelp in a current. A sight in its own right.

Xu Yi sat to the side, a grin tugging at his lips despite himself.

Before, he’d always gone to KTV alone. Sung by himself for hours.

But this… this lively warmth… it actually felt really nice.

An entire afternoon slipped by. Xu Yi had never sung with such abandon. His whole mood felt lighter.

Lu Xingyan led them out for dinner. The moment they stepped out of the KTV, into the bright mall lighting, Li Yuan got his first proper look at his sister-in-law’s face.

His expression jolted with shock. “I just realized—sis-in-law looks so much like our roommate.”

Xu Yi’s entire body seized. His fingers twisted instinctively into the fabric of his skirt.

He forced out a wooden reply. “Really? I’d love to meet him sometime.”

Lu Xingyan thought Xu Yi, when he was nervous, was especially adorable.

It made a person want to bully him.

Acting skills this poor, and yet he’d gone around scamming people online every day.

How should he punish his little liar?

Lu Xingyan pulled out his phone, the picture of perfect composure. “In that case, why don’t I just call him right now and ask him to join us?”