The Heroine Pays Me to Fall in Love (Quick Transmigration) - Chapter 53

Many singer-songwriters participated in this competition. Some performed well, others less so, and the feedback they received varied, but no one had ever managed to captivate the audience from the very first note.

But Su Jin did.

She sat under the spotlight, quietly cradling her guitar. Half of her face was shrouded in a gentle shadow, her features softer than before.

Her voice was ethereal, seemingly untouched by the mundane world, soaring above everything else.

It was remarkable. Truly remarkable.

The girls in the audience were blushing one by one, forgetting to speak, their eyes fixed entirely on Su Jin. The glow sticks they waved lit up the space into a sparkling sea of light.

Was it amazing?

Undoubtedly.

When the song ended, the applause was long and unrelenting. Even the mentor who had initially been unimpressed with Su Jin couldn’t hold back her claps.

“Thank you.” Su Jin stood from her chair, bowed deeply to the audience, a faint, serene smile curving her lips.

“Su Jin!” The girls in the crowd screamed again, louder and more fervent than before. “We love you!”

Jiang Zhinan glanced back, and after a moment, raised her glow stick even higher, joining in the chant with unyielding enthusiasm: “Me too!”

“Su Jin, right?” one of the mentors in the center asked. “Did you write this song yourself?”

“Yes,” Su Jin nodded in response.

“Could you tell us what inspired this song?” the mentor continued.

“It’s for someone who’s incredibly important to me,” Su Jin replied, her lips curving gently, her expression soft. “Because of her support all along, I’ve become braver and gained the courage to stand on this stage, to pursue what I love, and to strive for it.”

Her gaze stayed forward as she spoke, exuding confidence.

Only Jiang Zhinan knew the truth—Su Jin had been looking at her all along.

Meeting her eyes, Jiang Zhinan felt a sudden sting at her nose, her vision misting over with unshed tears.

“Do you need a tissue?” the system asked in her mind.

“No,” Jiang Zhinan shook her head, sniffling and holding back her tears. “I can’t cry—my makeup would ruin.”

“Oh,” the system chuckled. “Then hold it together.”

“I will.” Jiang Zhinan nodded, not saying anything else, continuing to wave her glow stick.

The mentor seemed pleased with Su Jin’s answer, their impression of her evidently improved, a warm smile spreading across their face.

After the brief interview, the other internet celebrity who had competed with Su Jin was invited onstage, and then it was time for audience voting.

Jiang Zhinan clutched her voting device, quickly pressing Su Jin’s number, sneaking glances to confirm others were voting for her too. Only then did she allow herself to relax.

Unsurprisingly, Su Jin won by over a hundred votes, securing her place in the next round, while the other internet celebrity had to say goodbye to the stage.

“Su Jin, please head backstage to rest,” the host gestured politely.

“Thank you,” Su Jin replied with a nod, raising her hand to wave to the cheering girls.

Then, her expression shifted slightly when she saw someone, and her hand paused mid-wave.

But the moment was brief; before anyone could notice, she picked up her guitar and left the stage, her steps hurried.

Once Su Jin was offstage, Jiang Zhinan pulled out her phone, preparing to send her a message.

Backstage was cramped due to the number of participants, and only contestants and staff could enter. Jiang Zhinan had no choice but to contact her via WeChat.

—My girlfriend is amazing! Congratulations, Su Jin!

She smiled, lowered her head, and carefully typed the message before hitting send.

But for some reason, Su Jin didn’t reply for quite some time.

Jiang Zhinan waited, seeing no response. Perhaps she was busy. She put her phone down and continued watching the stage.

Even after the competition ended, the mentors left, and the audience had all departed, Su Jin still hadn’t replied.

What’s going on?

Jiang Zhinan paused, worry creeping in.

By now, the audience had mostly left, and nearly all the contestants had gone home. Backstage had cleared, allowing family members to enter.

Jiang Zhinan stepped down from the audience seats, her footsteps clicking on the stairs as she went onto the stage. She gently lifted the curtain behind it and headed backstage to search for Su Jin.

There were three dressing rooms and a few lounges. Jiang Zhinan checked them one by one until she finally found Su Jin in a lounge.

The lights inside were dim, likely because everyone else had left. The temperature had dropped, shadows scattered across the room, and a quiet stillness hung in the air.

Su Jin sat among the shadows, silent, cradling her guitar, her head bowed.

For some reason, she looked unusually uneasy and forlorn.

The moment Jiang Zhinan saw her, she felt her heart tighten, as if her blood had frozen.

“What’s wrong?” She paused for a moment, then hurried to sit beside Su Jin, pulling her into her arms and speaking softly, “Did someone say something to hurt you? Or did something happen?”

“Why are you unhappy?” Jiang Zhinan asked gently, her voice slightly tense.

As if she hadn’t noticed Jiang Zhinan’s arrival, Su Jin slowly lifted her head, looking dazed, a trace of uncontainable pressure lurking in her eyes.

It was as if some invisible weight had crushed her entirely, enveloping her in endless despair.

Seeing her like this, Jiang Zhinan’s heart ached. Tears she had barely held back before now began to stream down uncontrollably.

“Tell me,” Jiang Zhinan tightened her embrace, pulling Su Jin closer. Her own tears blurred her vision, falling freely as she whispered, “I can help you carry it.”

At her words, Su Jin finally seemed to come back to herself a little.

Jiang Zhinan’s arms were warm, her hands comforting, carrying that familiar scent that felt like an escape from all sorrow and pain.

Nestled in her embrace, Su Jin felt her unease ease slightly.

She hesitated, her eyes darkening, her voice hoarse.

“I saw my mom,” she said softly. “She, actually came to watch the competition.”

It was the first time Jiang Zhinan had heard Su Jin mention her family.

“That’s great,” Jiang Zhinan said, wiping her own tears lightly, her voice gentle. “Your mom came to see you perform. That’s something to be happy about.”

“No.” Su Jin let out a bitter laugh, the old wound in her heart—hidden for so many years—throbbed painfully. “She didn’t come for me.”

“She probably had no idea I was participating. She was just here by chance,” Su Jin said, tearing open the old wounds within her.

“She must’ve come with her husband and kids. I saw them.”

She used “husband and kids,” not “dad or brother and sister.”

At that moment, Jiang Zhinan understood.

“I had waited so many years,” Su Jin whispered, tightening her grip on Jiang Zhinan’s hand without realizing it. “Ever since I was little, I hoped that one day, when I stood on stage, she would come to watch me perform. She even promised me she would.”

“But she broke that promise. She divorced, disappeared for so many years. I waited so many times, over and over.”

Her voice trailed off, as if she no longer had the courage to continue.

But Jiang Zhinan understood everything.

After waiting for so long, the one person you cared about most appears in your life in such a way.

She was no longer yours. She had a new family, a new life. Blood ties still existed, yet the connection slipped further and further away.

She was still there, but her attention was no longer on you—and never would be again.

It hit like a blow to the head, leaving you dizzy.

“Su Jin.” Jiang Zhinan paused, cupping her face, urging her to look at her. “Don’t think so much. Let the past be the past.”

“I’m still here!” she said, each word a firm promise to Su Jin. “I will never leave. I will always be by your side, every moment, always.”

“So don’t be sad anymore.” As she spoke, though she was trying to comfort Su Jin, her own eyes reddened, tears flowing more freely. “Trust me—I’m here for you.”

It was truly the most beautiful, heartfelt confession.

Su Jin looked at her, stunned for a moment, before a faint smile curved her lips. She reached out and wiped the tears from Jiang Zhinan’s face.

Her voice finally carried a hint of joy as she teased softly, “Little calico.”

Only then did Jiang Zhinan realize her makeup had been ruined by her tears.

“You’re still laughing at me?” Jiang Zhinan rubbed her eyes, displeased. “I only felt sad because you looked so unhappy.”

Before she could finish, Su Jin kissed her.

This kiss was different from before—possessive, insistent, as if she wanted to consume Jiang Zhinan entirely, forcing her to retreat step by step.

Her lips bit and pressed with intensity, her tongue nearly numbing Jiang Zhinan’s senses. Pinned against the back of the sofa, she gasped for air, wanting to complain.

But then she looked into Su Jin’s eyes.

They were clear again, bright and smiling, peaceful and reassuring.

“I understand,” Su Jin said softly, moving closer. “I have you.”

“Having you is enough. There’s nothing to fear anymore.”

“Thank you, thank you.”