The Companion Player Doesn’t Want a Shura Field [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 9

By the time the long dance class ended, the air in the practice room had become like a rag soaked in sweat and then baked by the sun until it was half-dry, heavy, damp, and clinging to everyone’s bodies.

As Jiang Yunze’s figure disappeared behind the door, Qi Ming collapsed directly onto the floor, no longer caring if it was covered in dust.

Rather than calling that man RS’s “Dance Heart,” he preferred to call him a “dance machine.” To impose such inhuman intensity on the first day, was he trying to assimilate them all?

However, this was the first time Qi Ming had ever sweated so freely. Unlike the stickiness of his clothes, there was a refreshing sense of clarity in his heart.

He tilted his head back, letting his semi-long black hair sprawl across the practice room mirror. Closing his eyes to rest, he suddenly heard the rustling sound of plastic wrap nearby.

Qi Ming did not open his eyes; he only felt someone take a tissue and wipe the sweat from his forehead. The movements were not very careful, somewhat clumsy and hesitant, clearly the actions of someone who rarely did such things for others.

When the tissue hovered lingeringly near his lips and stopped, Qi Ming finally raised his right hand. He covered the back of that person’s hand with his palm and pulled it inward with a bit of force.

Separated by the thin tissue, that hand brushed against Qi Ming’s lips, wiping away a single, crystal-clear drop of water hanging there.

Once dampened, the tissue felt almost non-existent. The hand beneath Qi Ming’s palm seemed to want to vanish instantly, trembling as it tried to shrink back.

“Xuan, it is not finished yet. You cannot give up halfway.”

The moment the person tried to avoid him, Qi Ming released his hand. He made no move to stop him, merely smiling casually.

As soon as he spoke, the hand froze.

Contrary to Qi Ming’s expectations, the person in front of him did not immediately talk back. He simply continued his movements obediently.

This did not seem like that little wolf at all.

His eyelashes fluttered. Qi Ming wanted to open his eyes to investigate, but someone suddenly raised a hand and covered his eyes. Through the layer of flesh and bone, the lights of the practice room were instantly cut off.

Still, Qi Ming felt no tension. Instead, it was the person covering his eyes who trembled with nervousness first. The calluses on the person’s fingertips rubbed against the skin at the corners of his eyes, leaving behind a trace of crimson.

A sweet scent lingered at the tip of his nose, a grape flavor that Qi Ming liked very much. This person had already obediently eaten the candy he had given him.

Without saying a word, Qi Ming leaned his face forward, resting his eyes against the pressure of the other’s palm. Only after all the sweat on his exposed skin had been wiped away did he feel the palm move away from his eyes.

But Qi Ming did not open his eyes immediately. Because that child probably did not want him to know.

It was only after the footsteps gradually faded into the gaps of the wooden floorboards and disappeared from his ears that Qi Ming opened his eyes.

Upon opening them, he was met squarely with a panicked little face. A trace of amazement still lingered in those narrow black eyes.

“Eh? Are you peeking at me?”

Qi Ming propped himself up with one hand and stood up gracefully. He hooked an arm around Cui Yuxuan’s shoulders and vigorously rubbed his head.

At the same time, his gaze inconspicuously swept over the surroundings. Jin Youxing was still in the corner helping Bian He correct his movements. The two of them had been in the same group during the earlier practice. As the only one among the four without any dance foundation, Bian He’s progress was naturally the slowest.

Fortunately, Jin Youxing had learned it quickly and was not stingy about helping his partner.

“No, I am not! I thought Hyung was asleep and wanted to wake you up.”

Having his thoughts read, Cui Yuxuan struggled to escape Qi Ming’s “devil claws.” If this continued, he would be bald at a young age.

Releasing his grip, Qi Ming nonchalantly stretched his shoulders and hummed. “Is that so? Your face is written all over with guilt. I thought you were going to play a prank.”

“No, how could I ever play a prank on Hyung!” Hearing Qi Ming say that, Cui Yuxuan was both embarrassed and flustered, but he did not know how to explain. He could only offer a dry rebuttal.

He certainly could not say that he had become dazed just from watching Qi Ming sleep.

With a few light words, the topic was pushed aside, and Qi Ming soon had the boy calmed down. Cui Yuxuan stood obediently by his side as they waited together for the arrival of the vocal teacher.

With the precedent of the choreography god Jiang Yunze, Qi Ming was not surprised to see the OST Queen, Liu Na, standing before them. It seemed their CEO had spent all the money on hiring teachers; no wonder the company was built so small and in such a remote location.

In 1999, at the age of 15, Liu Na successfully debuted in country R with the song “Promise Under the Starlight.” In 2002, she returned to country H to release her first digital album, “Real Me,” which topped several charts. She subsequently performed OSTs for many classic series.

With formidable strength and a large fan base, she was the undisputed “OST Queen.” Although Liu Na was only 26 years old now, she had already been debuted for eleven years and was their senior.

The woman before them had long, straight black hair. Her cold expression cast a layer of frost over her naturally sweet features.

Clearly, Liu Na was also a person of swift and decisive character. She skipped the tedious self-introductions, pulled out a stack of lyrics, and spoke concisely.

“Everyone draw one. Sing a cappella.”

Before teaching, she needed to judge everyone’s vocal level to provide targeted guidance.

Qi Ming bowed before taking a sheet from Liu Na. The other three followed his lead, bowing before drawing their own lyrics.

Lowering his head to skim the text, Qi Ming recalled the song: “Sunset Confession.” It was the ending theme for a campus romance web drama.

He usually did not watch such romantic television. It was only because Zhao Encan loved them, screaming in the dorm every day about how sweet it was, that Qi Ming was forced to learn a bit about it. His ears had been worn out by this song for an entire week. Zhao Encan never skipped the opening or ending credits when watching dramas.

The lyrics Liu Na provided also included the corresponding musical notation. This was partly to prevent anyone from not knowing the song they drew, and partly to test their grasp of pitch and rhythm.

She gave them only five minutes to prepare.

Rubbing the paper with his thumb, Qi Ming silently recited the lyrics twice, closed his eyes, and began to recall the melody. Like threading a needle, every character matched its corresponding syllable. In his mind, the character scenes from the television drama even began to play.

“Leader, you go first.”

After a while, a cool female voice broke through the tangled humming in the practice room, causing Qi Ming to open his eyes in confusion.

Leader? Who was she calling?

But as soon as he opened his eyes, he saw Liu Na roll up the stack of papers and point toward him. Her gaze moved over as well. The meaning was clear; she wanted him to start first.

Perhaps because the others had followed his lead earlier, Liu Na had the impression that Qi Ming was the leader of the four. He did not speak up to deny it.

Taking a step forward, Qi Ming folded the lyrics and tucked them into his palm. Taking a deep breath, he slightly lowered his eyes, his long lashes casting a small, faint shadow on his face.

Countless times I wanted to speak but stopped, Hiding love within the shadows. Gazing at your receding back, My heart breaks and flies away. The poem written for you, I lack the courage to interpret.

As the first line of lyrics dissipated into the air, Qi Ming slowly raised his eyes. His gaze landed on the slender, tall shadow cast on the wall. The tone of his voice hid a long-suppressed loneliness, as if wrapped in a layer of lingering melancholy.

Yet, a faint smile hung on his face, like the crescent moon in the night sky, silently watching the back of a loved one leaving a quiet alleyway. With a soft sigh, it shed a ground full of silver light, gently dispersing the darkness around the traveler.

At this moment of warm twilight, I finally say goodbye to cowardice, Letting love break free from everything. Even if this is a sad story, At least I once told you that I love you.

As the melody climbed, Qi Ming’s voice gradually rose, yet it remained uniquely gentle, like an epiphyllum blooming quietly in the deep night. He used all his strength to briefly pour out the long-accumulated love and pain in his heart without reservation.

There was a hint of stubbornness in that voice, along with a heart full of helplessness, as if he were putting up a final struggle against fate while knowing the ending was already set.

The ending of that television drama was an absolute tragedy. Before the confession, the protagonist’s lover was like the sinking sun, quietly pulled away by the thick night, leaving only a long and lonely darkness.

In Liu Na’s view, Qi Ming’s singing technique was not mature. However, emotion is far more difficult than technique. His expression, movements, and voice were like a fine, invisible net that tightly enveloped everyone, making them involuntarily drown in the lake he had created.

While Qi Ming gazed at the shadow on the wall, Cui Yuxuan stared blankly at his back. For some reason, he felt as if he were the person standing at the entrance of the alley, helplessly watching his moon leave him.

Even if the ending is a tragedy, at least I expressed my feelings?

Cui Yuxuan suddenly felt terrified, as if he were trying hard to grab onto something, only to watch helplessly as silver sand fell through his fingers and vanished with the wind.

When the last syllable faded, Liu Na was the first to clap. The frost-like expression on her face thawed slightly. The others seemed to regain their oxygen and followed with applause a beat later.

“Your name is Qi Ming, right?”

“Yes, Teacher.”

The young man’s voice trembled slightly, as if he had not yet emerged from the emotions. Hearing it made Cui Yuxuan’s heart ache.

“Your emotional expression is very good. Have you heard this song before?”

Without hesitation, Qi Ming nodded.

“Yes, I have also seen relevant clips.” He would not lie about this just to gain the teacher’s attention.

“Although there are flaws in your technique, your infection and expressiveness are very strong. On a side note, do not be angry.”

“Please speak, Teacher.”

“Student Qi Ming’s face is truly too distracting. Several times, I almost lost the heart to listen to the song.”

Unexpectedly, Liu Na, who seemed unfriendly, actually teased him. This caused Qi Ming’s ears to turn red again, and he smiled sheepishly.

“Thank you, Teacher. I understand. I will pay attention next time.”

Hearing Qi Ming’s reply, Liu Na almost could not resist walking forward to pat his head. How can this child be so cute? Pay attention to what? Sing with a mask on next time? Such beauty should be revealed to benefit the nation.

Returning to the group, Qi Ming felt his arm being nudged. Turning his head, Cui Yuxuan gave him a thumbs up, and Jin Youxing once again had admiring, starry eyes.

On the far side, Bian He actually did not have his head lowered. Instead, he stared at Qi Ming without blinking. His long, narrow fox-like eyes were fixed on him, his brown pupils so dark they were almost black, as if he wanted to devour the man whole.

The next second, that feeling vanished because Bian He lowered his head again. Perhaps it was just an illusion born from Qi Ming being too tired. With that guy’s personality, how would he dare?