Chapter 144: The Most Unpopular Male Singer in History!

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Chapter 144: The Most Unpopular Male Singer in History!

Perhaps those three defeats just now had been her birthday present?

Was that putting it a little too cruelly?

Tang Zhong knew, however, that after the three games, Jiao Yuheng had sent him back to the living room because he wanted to talk with Jiao Nanxin. He was surely going to comfort her and help her analyze the reasons behind losing three games in a row.

A good teacher knew exactly when and how to educate his students.

Without a doubt, Jiao Yuheng was such a man.

If Jiao Nanxin truly took his words to heart, then the gift she had received would be far more precious than anything her grandparents had given her.

“...”

Jiao Nanxin glared daggers at Tang Zhong, but in the end she did not do anything rash.

Her grandparents were sitting right beside her. Even if she wanted to do something to Tang Zhong, she might not succeed.

“Tang Zhong is right. This is the best gift.” Jiao Yuheng looked at Jiao Nanxin. “Nanxin, remember what I told you just now. Think it over carefully again tonight before you go to bed.”

“Did you really have to remind me in front of him? You make it sound as though he inspired me so much.” Jiao Nanxin was so depressed she nearly vomited blood. “Haven’t I embarrassed myself enough already?”

“Silly girl.” The old lady placed a chicken wing in Jiao Nanxin’s bowl. “What’s there to be embarrassed about? You only lost two games of chess. Besides, boys naturally have better logical thinking than girls. It’s only to be expected that they would be better at chess...”

And so Jiao Nanxin could only lower her head and shovel rice into her mouth.

Jiao Yuheng and Tang Zhong each drank half a small cup of wine—not enough to get drunk, merely a lubricant for conversation.

Jiao Yuheng asked about Tang Zhong’s studies, and Tang Zhong answered each question in turn.

“What happened at the welcome gala?” Jiao Yuheng asked after taking a sip of wine. “The program listed Hua Ming’s name. How did you end up going onstage instead?”

Tang Zhong knew that although Jiao Yuheng seemed to be asking why he had replaced Hua Ming as the singer, he was actually asking about the sensational incident in which Autumn Yihan had apologized and confessed her feelings.

Tang Zhong looked at Jiao Yuheng guiltily and said frankly, “Teacher, I don’t want to lie to you, but I really don’t want to talk about this, and I don’t know how to explain it. The situation is very complicated.”

Jiao Yuheng was a remarkably open-minded old man. He nodded and said, “That’s your freedom. Who doesn’t have a few secrets they can’t talk about when they’re young?”

“You have secrets too? How come I never knew?” the old lady teased.

Everyone laughed, and the room filled with warmth and cheer.

Tang Zhong looked at Jiao Nanxin sitting across from him and thought that she was actually very fortunate.

At home, she had parents who cared for her; once she came here, she had grandparents to look after her. She was able to enjoy the warmth of family at every moment.

And what about him? Could prison be called home?

If it was, why was it so devoid of tenderness?

If it was not, then where was home?

After dinner, Tang Zhong accompanied Jiao Yuheng for two more games of chess.

Jiao Yuheng played a steady, cautious game, while Tang Zhong relied on solid, methodical moves. Master and student chatted as they played, and when the two games were over, each had won once.

Jiao Yuheng pointed at Tang Zhong and laughed. “You were deliberately letting me win.”

“I really wasn’t.” Tang Zhong smiled. “You saw it yourself. I gave it everything I had.”

“Do you think I can’t tell whether you were holding back?” Jiao Yuheng said with a laugh. “You’re a young man, yet you played slow chess with an old fellow like me. If that wasn’t letting me win, what was? If you had picked up the pace and played in your own style, I still would have lost the second game... Tang Zhong, I’m genuinely curious. Very few young people these days like chess. How did you ever think of learning it?”

“Isn’t Nanxin learning chess too?” Tang Zhong replied with a smile.

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After a pause, he added, “Big Beard was worried that spending all day around a bunch of abnormal people would make me abnormal too, so he made me do things that would cultivate my temperament. Calligraphy and chess were both for that purpose.”

“So your father must be a chess expert too?” Jiao Yuheng asked tentatively. By now, he knew that Tang Zhong habitually referred to his father as “Big Beard.”

“An expert?” Something appeared in Tang Zhong’s eyes that Jiao Yuheng could not understand. There was some confusion, but more than that, there was sorrow. It made the elderly man, who sincerely cared about him, feel a pang of pain. “If he really were an expert, he wouldn’t have been forced into prison to serve as a warden.”

Jiao Yuheng felt that he had gained a deeper understanding of Tang Zhong. Rather than ask about his family, he said in a relaxed, comforting tone, “There’s nothing wrong with being a prison warden. Last time you were in my office, didn’t you say that your ambition was to become a warden after graduation? A man without desires is unyielding. What is it? Have you changed your mind?”

“I said I wanted to become a warden like Big Beard,” Tang Zhong replied with a smile.

Big Beard had married the woman universally acknowledged as the most beautiful in China. Could he do the same?

Tang Zhong bade Jiao Yuheng farewell and prepared to leave. The old lady told Jiao Nanxin to see him out.

Jiao Nanxin was unwilling. She curled up on the sofa watching television, pretending not to hear.

The old lady walked over and made as if to tug her ear. Jiao Nanxin surrendered at once, sprang off the sofa, and ran to the entrance to change her shoes.

Jiao Yuheng saw Tang Zhong to the door, then returned and said to his wife, “Nanxin didn’t want to see him out. You shouldn’t have forced her. Don’t you know? Whenever those two get together, they start arguing. My head is already throbbing.”

“Who says Nanxin didn’t want to see him out?” his wife retorted.

“What? Didn’t she look terribly unwilling just now?”

“If Nanxin truly didn’t want to go, would she have gone just because I forced her?” The old lady rolled her eyes adorably. “And you call yourself a psychologist. You understand nothing.”

“...”

Jiao Yuheng wore a stunned expression and remained speechless for a long while.

There was no moonlight, and the entire sky was a murky gray.

There was no sound of wind, yet the cold seemed to seep straight into the bones.

Tang Zhong wore a thick coat and did not feel cold.

When Jiao Nanxin left the house, she had also pulled a checkered scarf around her neck. She slipped both hands into the pockets of her trench coat and walked beside Tang Zhong in flip-flops, her bare feet exposed. At home she had been wearing cotton slippers, and she had changed into flip-flops before going outside. Clearly, she had no intention of seeing Tang Zhong very far.

Tang Zhong was silent, and so was she.

He thought she would soon say, “Go on by yourself. I’m going back,” or simply turn around and disappear without a word.

Unexpectedly, she continued walking beside him. She neither spoke nor turned her head, seeming almost determined not to abandon him.

Tang Zhong’s footsteps rang out heavily. Each time her flip-flops lifted and fell, they made a sharp slapping sound.

The residential area beside the classrooms was utterly quiet. Only these two sounds disturbed the stillness.

They were not noisy. Instead, together they formed a strangely peaceful and pleasing rhythm.

“Aren’t you cold?” Tang Zhong asked.

“No.”

“Aren’t you going back?”

“Do you want me to?”

Tang Zhong laughed.

No matter how much a woman disliked you, she would never allow you to be the one who disliked her first.

“What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing.”

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“Boring.” Jiao Nanxin curled her lips. Her moist red lips pursed into a graceful curve that seemed almost criminally alluring.

“What do you consider interesting?” Tang Zhong asked.

“Having the courage to do something and the courage to take responsibility for it.” Jiao Nanxin answered crisply. “A man who can’t even manage that is truly pathetic.”

“You’re talking about what happened with Autumn Yihan?”

“What does that have to do with me?” Jiao Nanxin would never admit it. Her words about taking responsibility had been aimed at men—women, after all, had the right to change their minds in seventy-two different ways.

“Go back,” Tang Zhong said, waving her off.

Jiao Nanxin stopped and said, “I admit that you’re impressive. I’m no match for you in a fight, I can’t outargue you, I can’t surpass you in applied psychology, and I can’t beat you at chess... But there is one thing I will definitely be better at than you.”

“What?” Tang Zhong asked.

At some point, Jiao Nanxin had withdrawn her right hand from her pocket. She swung her arm with all her strength, as though she meant to drive away the cold surrounding them and banish the darkness.

Her eyes shone brightly, her short hair flew in the wind, and her finely carved features gleamed like jade. In a clear, unwavering voice, she declared, “If I ever fall for someone, I’ll make sure the entire world knows.”

Tang Zhong was taken aback. Then he nodded, narrowing his eyes with a smile. “I’m looking forward to that day.”

Jiao Nanxin tapped him with one finger. “Just wait.”

Then she turned around, slipped both hands back into her pockets, raised her head, and walked away with her chest held high.

Slap, slap, slap—

From the darkness in the distance came the sound of her flip-flops striking the concrete.

What a cool girl, Tang Zhong thought as he watched her tall, straight figure recede.

* * *

After three days of surveys and statistics conducted by the university student council, combined with the opinions of ten judges from the music department, the top ten campus singers of the year at Southern University were finally announced.

Three students from the music department made the list, along with two from the department of international trade. The remaining five campus singers had no connection whatsoever to the psychology department.

The psychology department had once again gone without a single finalist, carrying on its “fine” tradition from previous years. Of course, no one found this surprising.

Even though Hua Ming had repeatedly urged everyone to vote for him and had even found ways to cast several votes for himself, the tide could not be turned. He was eliminated without the slightest surprise.

Just as the campus forum had predicted, Autumn Yihan—the freshman whose reputation had soared after the public apology and flower-giving incident, whose fame now rivaled that of Su Shan, the campus beauty of her own department—received the highest number of votes and enjoyed the greatest fan support. She made the top ten with the song “Crystal.”

Her partner, Nong Jun, suffered another tragedy. He was completely overlooked by everyone and fell outside the top ten.

Of course, Hua Ming’s efforts had not been entirely wasted.

According to the tally, Hua Ming was the singer whose name had been circled by voters more often than anyone else’s.

Thus, in accordance with tradition, he received the honor of being named “The Most Unpopular Male Singer in History.”

To respond to the “fans” who had come to watch, he enthusiastically served tea and water while introducing himself, according to their requests, as Li Yuliang, Tao Liang, or Tang Zhong.

P.S. This is the third chapter. The fourth chapter will be posted at midnight. Old Liu is going all out today. Also, thanks to Wenren Zhao, Little Shou Nan, and the other friends for their generous tips. And thanks as well to everyone for reading and supporting the novel with your votes.

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