Chapter Seventy-Five: Profound Understanding of Righteousness

That afternoon, not long after class had begun, a young man appeared at the doorway of Su Tong’s classroom, gesturing to the teacher. The teacher, puzzled, interrupted the lecture, stepped down from the podium, and left the room.

Inside the classroom, the students were full of curiosity, whispering among themselves, wondering what had happened. Su Tong, meanwhile, was hiding in a corner, preparing to secretly enter the system space.

“Su Tong, come out for a moment, someone’s looking for you.” Just as Su Tong was about to lie down, the teacher who had just returned called out to him.

Su Tong, utterly confused, stood up, put down his pen, and walked out with a blank expression.

Outside the classroom.

The one looking for Su Tong was naturally Mr. Xing, the secretary of the school’s Youth League branch. He was quite young, having graduated from college only a few years prior.

“Hello, Su, I’m the secretary of the school’s Youth League branch. My surname is Xing,” he said, forcing a smile.

Su Tong immediately understood why he was being sought out.

“Hello, Mr. Xing. May I ask what this is about?” Su Tong feigned ignorance.

Mr. Xing looked embarrassed. In fact, with his authority, even if all the students had opposed Su Tong's performance, he could have vetoed their objections on the spot, but he hadn't.

“Ahem, I’m here because…” Mr. Xing explained his purpose.

Su Tong felt troubled. By rights, since the teacher had come to him in person, he should agree without hesitation. But he had already announced his live stream, and those were rare enough. If he stood his audience up again, it would reflect very poorly on him.

“Mr. Xing, you’ve put me in a difficult position. I don’t know how much you know about me... It’s not easy for me to do a show. Many people are waiting for me tonight…” Su Tong explained his predicament.

Mr. Xing nearly choked with frustration. He had learned Su Tong’s identity the night before, but hadn’t come to him immediately. Su Tong’s announcement had gone out during rehearsals—if he’d acted as soon as Principal Song had informed him, none of this would have happened. Mr. Xing was beside himself with regret.

He hadn't expected Su Tong to have another commitment, and such a major one at that. Blocking someone’s source of income was as serious as taking away their lifeline.

But despite knowing how hard this was for Su Tong, Mr. Xing had to come—he couldn’t make things difficult for himself, could he?

“Su Tong, to be honest with you, the principal herself asked for you by name. She thinks very highly of you.” Mr. Xing decided to lay his cards on the table.

“The principal?” Su Tong was startled. How did the principal know about him, and even request him personally? “Which principal?”

“It’s Principal Song.” Mr. Xing was puzzled—Su Tong didn’t even know himself.

“I’ll think about it,” Su Tong replied, sighing. He didn’t know who this Principal Song was, but as the principal had spoken, he couldn’t refuse outright.

“Alright, you think it over. I’ll wait here,” Mr. Xing said nervously.

Su Tong felt utterly defeated and, ignoring Mr. Xing, slouched back to the classroom.

His classmates were all intrigued—it looked as if Su Tong had gotten into trouble.

The class’s cultural committee member was delighted; the enemy of my enemy is my friend, and my enemy’s suffering is my happiness.

“What’s going on?” asked the tall boy sitting next to Su Tong, his desk mate, in a low voice as Su Tong returned.

Su Tong said nothing, picked up his phone from under the desk, and went out again.

“Have you made up your mind?” Mr. Xing brightened when he saw Su Tong return.

Su Tong gave him no courtesy at all, replying listlessly, “I need to make a few calls. You guys have really put me in a bind.”

Mr. Xing gave an awkward smile, understanding well how trapped Su Tong was.

Su Tong went to an empty classroom and made a call.

Soon, a low female voice answered, “Are you looking for trouble? I’m in class right now.”

Su Tong broke into a sweat—Yang Feifei had turned into a model student, making up for all the schoolwork she’d missed while filming.

Life was truly strange: you put me in a difficult spot, I put her in one. Su Tong was now facing the greatest crisis of his life—a matter of credibility—so he dragged Yang Feifei, who was in another grade’s class, out to talk.

When Yang Feifei understood the situation, she fumed, “I thought it was something important. You come running to me for something this trivial… Fine, go ask Yaya instead. I don’t know how to handle this either.”

Su Tong had seen right through her—without even a goodbye, he hung up.

“Su Tong, you… You little rascal, you bastard! Now that you’re not getting anything, you just hang up on me?” Yang Feifei fumed, stomping her feet. Ever since their first encounter, this guy had been infuriating her.

After hanging up on Yang Feifei, Su Tong hesitated, then dialed Yaya’s number.

“If the principal herself requested you, then you should go,” Yaya said gently after hearing him out. “I imagine you won’t be able to attend classes quietly until you graduate—maybe not even for the next year or so. You’ll have to take a lot of time off, so it’s good for the school to know who you are and give you some leeway. As for the show, just take a leave and explain. Your fans aren’t going to abandon you over one absence…”

Yaya’s words made everything clear for Su Tong. She truly deserved to be admired—a goddess and an ideal wife. Su Tong’s respect for her only grew.

Yaya was still young, only two years out of college, but she was the most remarkable woman Su Tong had ever met—at least at home.

Outside, especially when she was accompanying Yang Feifei, she could seem aloof and unapproachable, her presence icy and striking.

“You can also use your phone to log in through the app. If you don’t want to take a leave, you can manage the live stream that way. Feifei’s phone is good quality—ask her to lend it to you tonight,” Yaya added thoughtfully.

Su Tong’s eyes lit up. That was a great idea! He could perform live at the event—it might not sound perfect, but it was worth a try.

“Alright, Yaya, don’t hang up yet,” Su Tong said, hurrying off to find Mr. Xing, who was anxiously awaiting his answer.

“Mr. Xing, how’s the cell signal in the auditorium?” Su Tong asked.

Mr. Xing, puzzled but honest, replied, “Well, the signal inside isn’t great. Calls and internet work, but it’s noticeably weaker than outside.”

Su Tong immediately felt deflated. Now what?

“There should be a network cable in the auditorium—set up a router for better results,” Yaya reminded him.

Su Tong asked Mr. Xing if the network issue could be solved, and Mr. Xing assured him it wasn’t a problem.

“Alright,” Su Tong said, “if my performance can start a little after eight, I’ll participate. And besides singing ‘I Believe,’ I might do another song. Also, I’ll need to bring two friends along.”

“Of course, absolutely, whatever you need!” Mr. Xing was nearly in tears with relief. Two songs, ten songs—it didn’t matter. Bring two friends, bring a whole family—it was all fine!

“Then have Tang Yan from our management school’s arts department contact me about the details,” Su Tong said. He knew the current arts director was in trouble; if even the Youth League secretary had to come begging, the director was likely to be replaced. Tang Yan liked being in charge, so he might as well help her out.

“Certainly! I’ll make arrangements right away. Tonight, Tang Yan will pick you and your friends up,” Mr. Xing said, almost weeping with gratitude as he hurried off.

“Su Tong, are you taking Feifei and me tonight?” Yaya, sharp as ever, immediately caught his meaning.

Su Tong replied with a laugh, “That’s right! Yaya, let Feifei know—I’ve got a new song debuting tonight, an absolute hit. If she misses it, she’ll regret it!”