This moment had never happened before at Jiang Yu’s concert. No guest had ever been the final highlight at his show.
Yu Shiqing sat on a high platform, surrounded by mist that poured down around his legs in milky-white curtains, drifting like gentle threads in the breeze. Golden spotlights illuminated him, creating a fairy-tale scene he looked like he was sitting in the clouds.
Jiang Yu held the microphone and walked across the rolling stage, the lights following him as he moved through the night to the center. Between them, a large glass pane slowly descended, dividing the stage into two day and night.
On the right, Jiang Yu stepped on silver light in darkness, bathed in a sea of stars. On the left, Yu Shiqing sat in fog tinted with golden sunset light. The glass was covered in dewdrops, giving the scene a reflective sheen. A cello melody played softly, echoing through the arena. It was a sensory feast.
From the moment the first spotlight hit Yu Shiqing, fans screamed in awe of the dreamlike sight. Finally, the cello solo ended. Jiang Yu spoke, his low voice clear over the sound system. The crowd quieted down and listened eagerly to this version of “Tacit Understanding.”
Midway through the first verse, the stage split along a golden path, drawing the two together with light. Jiang Yu looked at Yu Shiqing from across the divide. Yu had never seen the stage design live he had to look up to see Jiang from his high perch.
Maybe Ren Bai was right cello really suited the song better than piano. Written by Jiang Yu during Doomsday Rescue, he’d performed it twenty-five times already but this twenty-sixth performance was the best.
As the stage drew closer, singing the familiar lyrics under noisy lights, Jiang Yu’s gaze reflected only one person Yu Shiqing. Yu could see him easily and reacted to his voice’s shifting emotions. Their coordination was flawless.
At last, the glass disappeared, and a spiral staircase rose around Yu’s platform. Jiang Yu climbed up through the mist to stand beside him. The stairs paused around the platform, and the glass dropped behind them again, splitting them as the final chorus played.
“Is it over?” The audience sighed in disappointment. Ren Bai also sighed. “It ended already? I’m not done!”
Most fans felt the same. Their voices merged into a chant: “Encore! Encore!” Ren helped lead the chant: “Encore! One more from Yu Laoshi!”
Did they know what they were doing? Would that be allowed?
At that moment, another cello note was joined by a piano chord. It was Jiang and the audience screamed in joyful surprise. The glass pane rose again, and the dropped stage half returned. Jiang Yu sat at a white piano as his fingers danced over the keys. Yu Shiqing remained on his high platform, now beside Jiang.
Yu turned, surprised. He only learned this extra performance would happen in the afternoon rehearsal. Jiang smiled and asked, “Didn’t expect it?”
“A bit,” Yu answered quietly. Neither wore mics, so no one else heard.
On the big screen, they were seated slightly apart but shoulder to shoulder, the mist enveloping them as light and dark blended. They chatted calmly under the spotlight, looking only at each other. It felt like they were alone, despite the crowd and cameras.
Ren Bai marveled at how aesthetically strong the stage looked. He heard fans screaming:
“Jiang Yu smiled and smiled again!! Please stop smiling they’re filling up my phone storage!”
“Ahhh I got this for real! My pair coupling is real! Pisces pair!!”
Ren was blown away. Meng Chen laughed and slapped his shoulder: “Once you go to more concerts, you’ll get used to it.”
They returned backstage. The chant still thundered in the hall: “Encore! Encore!” Meng sighed: “Yu Laoshi is so amazing. No guest has ever matched Jiang Yu at his own concert.”
Ren remembered the final stage. The duo’s performance was perfect like never before. Even after hearing “Tacit Understanding” so often, he was spellbound again tonight. He was convinced Jiang sang even better than before.
Yu and Jiang returned to the lounge and collected their things. Jiang hosted a celebration for the crew, then he and Yu left together.
In the car, Meng told them excitedly: “Your hashtag just hit #1!”
Ren laughed: “Poor Du Han must be furious.” Du Han had tried to stir hype with romance rumors today, but was quickly overshadowed.
Ren opened the hot search: #JiangYuYuShiqingMiracleStage#. Fans had recorded the final song live and flooded social media. Comments scrolled by:
“What beautiful visuals! These two are too good!!”
“Whoa, Yu Shiqing plays cello too? What surprises haven’t been shown yet!”
“That look across the stage made me die! They should kiss now!!”
“Are they really dating? Please let my wish come true!!”
“This is more than shipping they’re dosing me with sugar! My scream is louder than the audience!”
Ren didn’t read all comments just watched the fan video once and then showed it to Yu. Jiang glanced over. The video didn’t show the full performance only their smiling side profiles on screen.
Ren asked Yu: “How did it feel?”
Jiang lowered his gaze slightly, watching Yu. Then Yu answered calmly: “The effect was good.”
Ren waited. “Nothing more?”
Yu asked back: “What did you want me to say?”
Ren shrugged: “Never mind.”
Meanwhile, promotion for Doomsday Rescue joined the trending topics. The film is set for early screening this weekend, and with the concert hype, interest in the trailer spiked. The topic climbed steadily while Du Han and Qiu Chang’s romance rumors faded away.
At home, Du Han shook with frustration. Everything he worked so hard for was being overshadowed by Yu. He smashed his wine glass and seethed, closing the door.
A timid knock came from the other room: Qiu Taihua peaked in. “Hange, are you okay?”
Du Han glared and barked: “Who told you to come out? Go back!” Taihua winced but stayed silent he had nowhere else to go.
Du Han dialed his phone bitterly. “I won’t let Yu Shiqing beat me so easily.”
(Next Morning)
The next morning, Ren informed Yu: “A smear campaign hit—someone released old clips calling you ‘king of bad movies,’ ‘box-office poison.’”
He checked the trending page—clips from Yu’s past work had been deliberately edited and organized by trolls. The goal was clear: discredit Yu, discredit Doomsday Rescue.
The smear campaign was in full swing.
The scene ends here, but Yu steps forward undeterred, ready to confront this attack.
