She Adopted Me After My Biological Mother Passed Away - Chapter 33

“Want to know? Why don’t you come back and see for yourself?”

Li Lingling watched Shi Shuxue walk toward the front of the stage with the band. She leaned against the wall, the stabbing pain in her stomach yet to subside, but she couldn’t help shouting: “Shuxue, just treat it like a normal practice! Don’t put too much pressure on yourself!”

Shi Shuxue, trailing at the back, glanced back at her and curled her lips into a faint smile. That smile flickered against the backlight, outlining a profile that felt somewhat unfamiliar.

The four members took their positions. Shi Shuxue stood on the right side of the stage, in front of the drummer and beside Yu Xiu. She avoided the central spotlight, but she couldn’t escape the gaze of the audience.

Some fans raised their phones to aim at her, some whispered, “Is that a new bassist?”, while others waved support boards printed with the band’s logo.

On stage, Yu Xiu waved to the crowd with a professional smile, raised the microphone, and began: “First, a little interlude. Our bassist Li Lingling had a sudden situation today, that idiot ate something bad and can’t make it on stage for now.”

Concerned murmurs immediately rose from the crowd. Yu Xiu quickly added with a laugh: “Don’t worry, Lingling is resting backstage. Replacing her today is our band’s hidden ace, little Shi Shuxue!”

As she spoke, she turned and gestured for Shi Shuxue to take half a step toward the center, introducing her briefly: “Xiao Xue has been practicing with us for a long time. You could say she’s a bassist personally trained by Lingling. Although today is her first formal meeting with everyone, I believe many of you have followed her on streaming platforms before.”

She added a few more crowd pleasing words, and the atmosphere livened up. Applause rang out in unison, and fans shouted words of encouragement.

Standing under the spotlight, Shi Shuxue’s dark eyes reflected pinpoints of light. She didn’t speak, only nodding slightly. Her expression was as calm and indifferent as ever, it was impossible to tell if she was overly nervous or simply devoid of emotion.

The intro music flowed out from Yu Xiu’s guitar, a popular rock track that had recently topped the music charts.

Shi Shuxue’s fingertips landed on the strings, the steady, solid bass notes anchoring the song’s melody. Her plucking was heavier than during rehearsals, and her movements were devoid of excess, carrying an inherent confidence that stabilized the rhythm.

The murmurs from the crowd gradually died down. More people raised their phones toward her. In the lenses, the young girl stood with a straight spine, her aura cool and composed. There was no flashy showboating, just precision timing with the drummer.

When the intro to the third song began, Yu Xiu gave Shi Shuxue a subtle glance. They had practiced the first two songs together to some extent, but this final song, Powder Snow Submerging the Swing, was the most complex. As far as she remembered, Li Lingling hadn’t finished teaching it to her.

The guitar notes dropped for a measure. Yu Xiu began to sing softly, and Song Liulan’s drumbeat suddenly skipped half a beat. Shi Shuxue’s fingers also stopped for about half a second, her long lashes trembling under the intense light.

She didn’t let the pause linger. When her fingertips struck the strings again, she was half a beat slower, perfectly aligning with Song Liulan’s adjusted rhythm. Seeing her follow so steadily, Yu Xiu breathed a secret sigh of relief.

When the segment for the bass solo arrived, she didn’t choose to simplify it. Closing her eyes, her fingertips suddenly slid across the strings, and her slender fingers accelerated instantly!

A fluid and explosive improvised solo poured out, more complex and emotionally rich than previous versions. It was clearly Chi Yeyu’s style, yet it carried her own unique, cold restraint, like an undercurrent of water washing over the listeners’ senses.

This unexpected moment of brilliance sent a shock through the band members. A flash of amazement crossed Yu Xiu’s eyes, and the high-pitched guitar harmony rose to meet it. As the keyboard padded the gaps in the low end, Song Liulan’s drumming grew dense, her sticks flying so fast they almost seemed to spark.

Exclamations of wonder rose from the crowd, starting sporadically and then merging into a wave. People stood up to wave, and phone flashes lit up like a sea of stars amidst the boiling cheers.

The solo ended, and the music returned to the main melody. Shi Shuxue opened her eyes, beads of sweat forming on her nose, her breathing slightly more hurried than before.

She turned her head, her gaze meeting Li Lingling’s, who was hunched over in the wings. The sparkling light in her eyes and her flushed cheeks made her seem more “alive” than usual.

Li Lingling gave her an encouraging smile. Shi Shuxue turned back to face the sea of lights shining for them. Adjusting her right hand’s plucking position before the chorus, she casually added a concise bass fill, the smooth scales like a bird skimming across water.

When the song ended, amidst the applause and cheers, people shouted, “The bass is so cool!” and “So handsome!” Some fans even yelled for an encore. Shi Shuxue stood in place, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. She didn’t feel tired, instead, she felt a sense of excitement she had never experienced before filling her heart.

The spotlight followed her, outlining her previously aloof profile with clarity. After hearing this performance, no one would think she was indifferent again. Her bass expression was like a surging current beneath an arctic glacier, igniting the entire venue.

Back in the dressing room, Shi Shuxue wiped Li Lingling’s bass clean, packed it into the bag, and handed it over, asking with concern: “Lingling-jie, does your stomach still hurt?”

“It hurts to death. I just want to get to the hotel and lie down,” Li Lingling said, her face as pale as paper and her bangs wet with cold sweat. But as she looked at Shi Shuxue’s rosy face, a genuine smile rippled in her eyes. “I’m so glad I brought you along today.”

She couldn’t help but feel lucky. Her worst decision today was greedily eating three osmanthus sugar cakes, which made her unable to perform. Her best decision was bringing Shi Shuxue here.

“Exactly! Your performance today was amazing! You couldn’t tell at all it was your first time on stage,” Song Liulan said, her voice full of praise.

Yu Xiu, while briskly packing up cables, teased: “So impressive. Did you secretly practice until you were perfect, just waiting for a chance to show off?”

Shi Shuxue fixed her gaze on a non-existent crack in the floor, wanting to bury her face in her collar. She gave a cool, single syllable response: “Mm.”

They had another large music festival performance in H City the day after tomorrow. On the way back to the hotel, the carriage was still filled with the lingering excitement of the show.

Leaning weakly against the seat back, Li Lingling suggested that Shi Shuxue should just replace her. Seeing how easily she adapted and how her stage presence surpassed her practice sessions, she was clearly someone born for the stage.

Shi Shuxue watched the city lights flash by the window, the neon shadows flickering across her elegant face. Hearing this, she said bluntly: “I won’t replace you. You do it yourself.”

The sharp pain in Li Lingling’s stomach turned into a dull ache. She laughed and said, “If my body is still like this the day after tomorrow, I’ll have no choice.”

Shi Shuxue said: “You’ll be fine after a sleep.”

“Yeah, stop trying to push the kid,” Yu Xiu laughed. “Careful, or I’ll tell on you to Chi Yeyu.”

“I’ve graduated anyway, and I have to start my internship back home in July… anyway, let’s not talk about that. Speaking of which, the performance video recorded today will be uploaded to the official account tonight. I have to send a copy to Chi Yeyu to show off my teaching results,” Li Lingling said proudly.

At the mention of “Chi Yeyu,” Shi Shuxue reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, replying quickly: “Don’t send it to her.”

“Why? Shy? You don’t want your guardian to see?” Li Lingling asked.

“She’s not my guardian… I’m not shy, I just don’t want to.” Shi Shuxue’s ears turned a faint shade of red. Her lips pursed and then relaxed, looking a bit awkward.

“Then I won’t send it,” Li Lingling laughed, rubbing her head. “Anyway, she follows you so closely, she’ll definitely come across it.”

Shi Shuxue wanted to argue. Chi Yeyu didn’t follow her that closely. If she really cared that much, why would she deliberately distance herself, treat her coldly, and only exchange a few trivial words after long intervals?

But as she looked at the neon lights flowing outside the glass, she swallowed her words.

In the evening, Yu Xiu and Tiangua accompanied Li Lingling to the hospital. Shi Shuxue originally wanted to go, but Yu Xiu said it wasn’t necessary for everyone to go and it would be inconvenient. She told Song Liulan to take Shi Shuxue back to the hotel to rest.

Lying on the large hotel bed, Shi Shuxue was still worried about Li Lingling. She sent a message asking for an update, but assuming they were busy, she received no reply.

She had no appetite. Having just showered, she got up to pull the curtains when she heard a knock at the door.

She opened it to find Song Liulan standing there. She had changed out of her daytime camisole and shorts into a silk bathrobe, her slightly damp hair hanging down her back.

“Shi Shuxue, have you eaten?” Having just started university, she was only a year older than Shi Shuxue. She radiated a natural, familiar youthful energy. As she spoke, she squeezed through the gap in the door and closed it behind her.

Shi Shuxue took two steps back and said, “No, I’m not hungry. You?”

“I don’t eat at night.” Song Liulan looked around the room, turned, and said, “So what are you doing? Chat with me for a bit. I can’t stand staying in a room alone.”

Shi Shuxue wasn’t good at dealing with this kind of extroverted girl. Standing by the wall, she asked: “…Chat about what?”

“Anything. Just a casual talk. My room is too quiet. Other than the cameras that might be there, there’s nothing else to keep me company.”

Shi Shuxue didn’t find the joke about cameras in the room very funny.

As if guessing her thoughts, Song Liulan smiled: “Don’t worry, I checked. No cameras. For a hotel at this price point, it would be unacceptable if they didn’t guarantee privacy.”

As she moved closer, Shi Shuxue noticed that the bright, beautiful face had a small dimple when she smiled, only on the left side, and very shallow.

“Were you on your phone? I’ve been waiting for today’s performance video. It would be great if we could trend a bit, it’s best to increase the marketing,” Song Liulan said. “That way, more people can see me.”

Shi Shuxue asked: “Do you really want more people to see you?”