"Next up, taking the stage is our immensely popular V-Boy Band, bringing us the title track of their brand-new debut album, ’Rainbow Sugar.’ Let’s give them a warm round of applause."
Thunderous applause erupted from the audience, accompanied by excited and frenzied screams.
As the dynamic intro started, seven fashionably dressed boys entered the stage one after another.
"Ahhhh, my husband! Did you see him? The leader, that’s my husband! He’s so handsome, ahhhh..."
Zhang Xiaoyu looked as though she’d dive right into the TV screen, her face flushed red with excitement.
Shen You’an sat on the couch, one long leg casually crossed over the other, shooting a disinterested glance at the screen.
The leader was a boy wearing a silver shirt, his hair dyed granny gray, eyeliner on point, and—frankly—more flamboyant than a woman.
Shen You’an withdrew her gaze, feeling a twinge in her teeth.
The boy opened his mouth and sang the first line of an English lyric, almost sending Shen You’an straight out of the room.
Yet Zhang Xiaoyu was utterly enamored, holding her cheeks and giggling foolishly.
Shen You’an shook her head. Wasn’t this corrupting the minds of the younger generation?
Their dancing... honestly, was reminiscent of a chaotic spectacle.
Three minutes passed, the stage performance ended, and the boys exited. Zhang Xiaoyu shouted, "Don’t go... Oppas, don’t go!"
She turned to Shen You’an and said, "Isn’t my husband the most handsome?"
"Poor English pronunciation, numerous grammatical errors in the lyrics, exaggerated mannerisms, chaotic dancing..." Shen You’an critiqued.
"Ahhhh, Shen You’an, just because you’re a top student doesn’t mean you can talk . You’re not allowed to insult my husband! Do you even know how hard they work?!"
Zhang Xiaoyu’s rapid-fire retorts came at Shen You’an like a machine gun.
Shen You’an said helplessly, "Fine, I’ll leave, okay?"
"You’re not allowed to leave!" Zhang Xiaoyu darted forward and grabbed Shen You’an.
"I’m telling you, you have to apologize for your narrow-minded opinions. If you got to know him better, you’d realize he’s truly an incredibly hardworking, talented, and outstanding person!"
Staring at the endlessly talkative girl in front of her, Shen You’an suddenly reflected on the depth of influence idol culture had on young, impressionable minds. It was deep—way too deep.
As if they’d been bewitched.
Shen You’an recalled the days of her previous life during her teenage years, how her classmates had all been obsessed with celebrities. Their faces would light up whenever the idols’ names were mentioned, much like Zhang Xiaoyu at this moment.
Back then, Shen You’an had been buried in her studies and had never paid attention to such things, nor did she have the resources to chase after them.
In this lifetime, she found herself at Lanya High School, surrounded by privileged classmates, born into wealthy families. Add to that the heavy academic pressure—if you dared to slack off even slightly, you’d be overtaken. These students had the means but not the time or energy for fandoms.
Only girls like Zhang Xiaoyu, cherished by her family, carefree about academics, and free from any pressure or troubles, could immerse themselves so deeply into chasing idols.
There were many little girls like Zhang Xiaoyu in the world.
All of a sudden, Shen You’an thought to herself: Maybe little girls’ obsession with idols wasn’t such a big deal after all. Youth only comes once, so who’s to say following expectations is always the right choice? As long as they don’t regret it later, maybe it’s fine.
At the very least, they were genuinely happy while chasing their Oppas.
At that moment, the TV screen showed the host again.
The V-Boy Band, as the opening act, had ignited the enthusiasm of the audience, setting a great tone for the performances to come.
They were just the "bricks" that the program used to draw attention.
The main focus was on the contestants performing later.
Zhang Xiaoyu watched for a while but quickly lost interest.
"This doesn’t even compare to my Oppas—what a waste of time."
"Wow, this Wen Yan guy seems pretty good, but I still think my Oppas sing better."
Zhang Xiaoyu grew so bored that she nearly fell asleep, only to be startled awake by a rapid-fire rap performance.
"Number 32, Ge Qi—I’ll remember you."
Sporting a head full of tiny African braids, he was definitely unique.
Shen You’an patted Zhang Xiaoyu’s head and said, "Go to sleep. I’m heading back now."
Just as Shen You’an got up and reached the door, the host on TV suddenly announced, "Next, let’s welcome contestant number 48, Rong Xianning, who will perform a classic old song, ’Grandma’s Penghu Bay.’"
Shen You’an’s steps faltered.
A soothing guitar melody began, followed by the gentle, clear voice of a boy softly singing.
His voice seemed to have a magical ability, effortlessly pulling the listener into his world.
The boy’s tone was deep and tender, like a summer breeze brushing through a field of rye, carrying away the stifling heat, unhurried and calming.
Though subtle in intonation, it conveyed deep emotions, stirring up a faint melancholy in the depths of one’s heart, and awakening childhood memories long buried in the relentless passage of time...