Mei Fang returned with an Alexander cocktail for Peng Xue to find Xia Yuan no longer crying but listening intently as Peng Xue recounted her experiences over the past six months.
Rongcheng was renowned as the heartland of folk music, the birthplace of many nationally celebrated folk singers—especially the one who would later write “Rongcheng”, a song that would soon echo through every street and alley across the country.
Of course, that iconic tune wouldn’t emerge for another two years, but folk culture had long taken root in this western provincial capital. Peng Xue and her band were just one of countless groups drawn to Rongcheng’s music scene.
Peng Xue shared stories of the people she’d met—a sweet-voiced girl from Xiangcheng who sang the saddest tales, a northern boy pining for his southern love, a guitarist in his thirties still wandering after his band dissolved.
Beneath the city’s neon haze, Peng Xue witnessed countless small dreams and quiet struggles. Drifting from place to place, she found her own reflections and, with her cousin Yanzi’s help, began writing her own folk songs.
“That’s really amazing… You’re so young, yet you’ve already wandered alone out there. Meanwhile, I can’t even go out without Ah Fang tagging along…”
“Ugh… Do you have to flex on me ? It hurts.”
Xia Yuan scratched her nose sheepishly. “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean it like that. I just… think you’re incredible. I could never do it.”
“This is the life I chose and love. I’m happy with it.”
“What’s next for you? Your cousin’s band must have some fame now, right?”
Peng Xue shook her head. “Yeah, but… everyone’s moving on. Yanzi’s tired of drifting. She’s saved enough to open a quiet bar in Jiangcheng with friends.”
“But her singing is so good! It’s such a waste to stop…”
Peng Xue glanced at her red-haired cousin chatting with friends nearby, then lowered her voice.
“The band member I replaced was Yanzi’s boyfriend. They were serious, but last year his family dragged him home for an arranged marriage. He got engaged lightning-fast. Yanzi wanted to quit right then.”
Xia Yuan gasped. “How could he do that?!”
Mei Fang chimed in, intrigued. “So she stuck it out for half a year—was it for you?”
“Not really. She’d always talked about making a ‘pilgrimage’ to Rongcheng. This was her way of closing the book on her youth with no regrets.”
Peng Xue raised her glass to Mei Fang. “I hate always feeling indebted to you guys, but C-Site’s promotion really made our last six months special. Lots of fans came because of you. So—thanks, Boss Mei! And you too, Yuan Yuan. Cheers!”
They clinked glasses, and Xia Yuan beamed. “Here’s to your happiness, Xiao Xue!”
After a sip, Peng Xue suddenly laughed. “Happiness? Nah, that’d kill my creative spark.”
She nudged Xia Yuan. “Anyway, what’s the deal with you and Boss Mei? Your ‘breakup’ shocked me. I almost flew back just to punch him.”
“Why didn’t you?” Xia Yuan propped her chin on her hand, curious.
Peng Xue eyed Xia Yuan’s cocktail. “What’s that? Looks like juice.”
“I forgot the name… Some non-alcoholic thing. Tasty, though.”
“You’re at a bar and drinking juice? Still such a kid. No wonder Youxi stole your man.”
Mei Fang’s public apology letter was now legendary on C-Site. Even months later, people still dragged it up, so Peng Xue knew about Lin Youxi and Mei Fang without asking.
“Th-That’s not what happened!”
Xia Yuan pouted. “We’re all fine! Otherwise, Ah Fang wouldn’t be here with me…”
“Alright, alright… Just drink a little. It’s a special occasion.”
“You’re one to talk! Isn’t yours basically cocoa?”
“Pfft—you peasant! Here, try it.”
As Xia Yuan reached for the glass, Mei Fang cautioned gently, “Just a sip. You’ve never drunk before—your tolerance’ll be low.”
Peng Xue eyed Mei Fang’s drink. “You’re not drinking either?”
“Not 18 yet. Gotta set a good example as a public figure.” He smirked. “But Yuan Yuan’s legal—she can indulge.”
“Ugh, quit pretending. You act more like you’re 28.”
Dismissing Mei Fang, Peng Xue watched as Xia Yuan took a tiny sip—and immediately flushed pink. She quickly snatched the glass back when Xia Yuan hiccuped adorably, prompting her to retreat to her mocktail.
“Wow, lightweight.” Peng Xue grinned. “Pathetic.”
“It looked like dessert! How’s it so strong?”
“It kinda is—coffee liqueur and cream. Not bad, right?”
“Not bad… just… hic!”
Xia Yuan hid her face. “Mine’s better…”
“Xiao Xue,” Mei Fang interjected, “you’ve talked about everyone else’s plans. What about yours?”
Peng Xue twirled her glass. “Honestly… I’m not sure. I didn’t hate the last six months, but I don’t know if I’ll keep going. After hearing so many stories—even from Yanzi—I think maybe I should go to college, study music theory properly, build a foundation… But saying that now just sounds like regret.”
She sighed. “Though dropping out makes it kinda—”
“Go back to school, Xiao Xue!”
Xia Yuan, cheeks still rosy, grabbed her hand. “Your parents filed for a leave of absence, not withdrawal! You can still catch up if you repeat a year or study hard now!”
“Leave of absence? Since when?”
Peng Xue stared. “I… didn’t even know?”
“Thank Ah Fang! He reminded your parents and arranged it with the school. You’ve still got a chance—think about it!”
“Yuan Yuan… you absolute idiot.”
Peng Xue suddenly pulled Xia Yuan into a hug, pinching her cheeks. Xia Yuan squawked, “Why are you insulting me?!”
“You could’ve just let this stubborn donkey roam free… Yet you went behind my back to do all this…”
She took another sip, smiling wryly. “After half a year of rebellion, I’ll have to swallow my pride and apologize to my family and school. My choice, huh?”
“If things get rough at home, come to Jiangcheng! I’ll find you a place to study!”
“We’ll see… Mom’s a sexist snob, but—”
After more drinks, Peng Xue finally asked, “Enough about me. What’s your deal? ‘Broken up’ but still sneaking around together? Doesn’t Youxi-chan mind?”*
“Well… I wanted to tell you sooner, but you were always busy, barely replying…”
Xia Yuan stood, cheeks flushed, and nestled against Mei Fang, linking arms with him like a lovestruck dove.
“Actually… we never broke up.”