Chapter Forty-Seven: Graduation Season

Compared to the relaxed and easygoing atmosphere of the art exams, the college entrance exam felt like a battle for Zhou Miao. He didn’t breathe a real sigh of relief until the last subject was finished.

The third floor of the school, where the seniors were, had erupted into celebration. Liberated students tore books and exam papers into shreds and flung them down from the windows. First and second-year students emerged to watch the spectacle, gazing enviously at the seniors who were finally free.

The grade supervisor, his beer belly leading the way, came out and shouted up at the crowd, “What are you doing? Are you rebelling? Everyone stays back today to clean up—”

Before he could finish, thick books rained down on him, forcing him to cover his head and flee.

The class monitor anxiously called out, “Stop throwing things!” Yet, he himself grabbed a pile of books from his desk and hurled them down with gusto.

The boys were celebrating wildly, while the girls wandered around with thick autograph books, collecting messages from friends. Zhou Miao’s desk already had a tall stack of them, and his hand was aching from all the writing.

“What are your plans for the break?” Zhou Miao asked. Hu San, next to him, was scribbling away as well.

“I wanted to get a job, but my dad insists I stay in the shop and sell bread,” Hu San replied, a bit disheartened.

“What about you? Got any plans?”

Zhou Miao flexed his sore wrist. “I’m pretty busy, actually. Last year, our band decided that after the exams, we’d perform at the Strawberry Music Festival. It’ll be our first time on stage, but also our last. After this show, our Countdown Band will disband and everyone will go their own way.”

This was an agreement they’d reached when the band was formed: after the college entrance exam, they would be scattered across the country, and it would be nearly impossible to reunite, so they might as well disband right after the performance.

“Then I have to go participate in a variety show. I promised the director of ‘Transformation’ that I’d join his new show. He’s been asking me for months, but I just never had the time because of the exams.”

“After that, I need to prepare my first album. I plan to finish recording all the songs before school starts. I’ll send you a copy.”

Hu San perked up at the mention of the new album. “Is there a song for me in it?”

Without looking up, Zhou Miao replied, “Yes, it’s called ‘The Second Fool,’ written especially for you.”

Hu San gritted her teeth in indignation, poked him with her pen, and turned away in a huff.

Half a month later, the exam results were released. Zhou Miao’s total score was 260, while the cutoff for admission to the Central Conservatory from JS Province was 220 (out of 480). In other provinces, the cutoff was around 340 (out of 750). Zhou Miao had made it! Hu San performed even better, scoring 385, well above her usual mock exam results. She immediately changed her plans and applied to the Physics Department at Beijing University of Science and Technology.

After submitting their applications, Zhou Miao and his bandmates boarded a flight to Beijing. Strawberry Music Festival, here we come!

“Hey, now that I think about it, we really got the short end of the stick,” Zhou Miao mused on the plane, feeling increasingly cheated.

When he struck a deal with Zhao Weiming, he was still an unknown nobody. Now he was a blazing new star, a powerful and popular singer. With his current fame, the festival organizers would welcome him with open arms, and he could easily be a featured guest. But back then, he foolishly traded a variety show appearance for just ten minutes on stage.

The organizers had since contacted him to offer a longer slot, but Zhou Miao refused. Extending their time would mean another band or singer would be bumped from the lineup, and Zhou Miao didn’t want that. As long as they could perform the two songs they’d spent a year preparing, and do it well, that would be enough.

After landing, the four band members moved into Zhou Miao’s house. With two or three days before the festival, they still had time to practice.

“Wow, you live alone in such a big place? That’s pretty decadent!” Ma Yun exclaimed as she walked in.

“Come on, Brother Miao can easily sell a song for several million now. Living here is modest, honestly!” Liu Huan chimed in, his tone exaggerated.

Zhou Miao kicked him in the rear. “You talk too much—change your shoes first.”

Zhao Jiedong looked around curiously. “If you were to buy this place, how much would it cost?”

“Over ten million, I guess. I never asked about the exact price, and I don’t plan to buy a place in Beijing anyway.” Zhou Miao had some money now, but he wasn’t much interested in property.

The next day, Zhou Miao visited the company. Left Autumn had arranged for him to meet his new manager, and since he had time today, it was the perfect opportunity.

He entered Left Autumn’s office, where a young woman of about thirty sat on the sofa. Her hair was cut short and neat, and she wore a crisp professional suit. Though her features were ordinary, she radiated competence and efficiency.

When Zhou Miao arrived, Left Autumn introduced her. “Let me introduce you. This is Gu Zhiyin, a top graduate from Fudan. She’s worked as a manager for two years already, and she’ll be handling your affairs from now on.”

Gu Zhiyin stood and extended her hand. “Hello, I’m Gu Zhiyin.”

Zhou Miao shook her hand. “Hello, I’ll be relying on you.”

Gu Zhiyin smiled. “It’s my job.”

Left Autumn poured Zhou Miao a glass of water. “You’re just in time. We were discussing when you plan to release your first album. Any progress on the songs?”

Zhou Miao nodded. “Yes, I’ve written them all. I want to finish recording before school starts, then take my time with the release. Once school begins, there’ll be military training and all sorts of things—I’ll be busy.”

Left Autumn nodded. “One more thing: Li Qin and her partner are planning to release their album next month. The company has commissioned some songs from outside, but I’ve listened to them all—none are strong enough to be the lead single. If you have time, maybe you could write another song for them?”

Zhou Miao was familiar with those two girls and didn’t refuse. The entire company depended on them now. The variety shows Zhou Miao didn’t want to do, they went to; the commercial performances he didn’t want, they handled; all the dirty and exhausting work fell to them, yet they never complained. Writing a song was no trouble.

They only had one hit so far. Their popularity was high, but fragile. Without a strong follow-up, their fame would fade quickly.

“By the way, lots of brands have approached us lately, specifically requesting you as their spokesperson. Take a look.”

Left Autumn handed him several documents. Zhou Miao flipped through them and kept only one, tossing the rest onto the table.

“This one’s fine. Just reply to the others for me. What a mess—there’s even lipstick. Crazy.”

Left Autumn and Gu Zhiyin exchanged a wry smile, speechless at his bluntness. Male artists endorsing lipstick was all the rage these days.