Chapter Seventy-Eight: The Crowd Goes Wild

"I believe in freedom, I believe in hope, I believe that if I reach out, I can touch the sky..."

"Nian Nujiao, Nian Nujiao..."

Shi Jiaqin had entered through the back door and arrived at the scene as well. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes brimming with excitement. Like everyone else in the hall, she stood up, arm raised toward the sky, either singing loudly or shouting out Nian Nujiao’s name.

To finally see her idol in person—the idol was so handsome, so amazing, she nearly forgot to take any photos.

"This guy seems to be a natural on stage, so experienced," Yang Feifei also stood up, continuing her live broadcast, muttering to herself. She knew Su Tong had barely any stage experience, and it puzzled her how he could perform like this.

Many of the students in the auditorium had heard "I Believe" countless times before. By all rights, they should have grown numb to it, but hearing it live was an entirely different experience.

It was like being with a lover for many years: the passion had faded, and the first love's heart-thumping excitement was gone, leaving only calm affection. But tonight, it was as if all those years of emotion came rushing back in a tidal wave, enough to tear the roof off the auditorium.

When the song ended, no one knew how many throats had already been shouted hoarse.

Su Tong caught his breath and looked down at the audience: "Youth should be like this—more passion, more striving. The future exceeds your imagination."

"Nian Nujiao!"

"Nian Nujiao, I love you~!"

Some brave students shouted, both male and female. Su Tong laughed heartily. "Dear juniors, especially some of the guys just now—you still need to develop the right concept of love. First, get the gender sorted out..."

The students burst into laughter.

"Wait, Nian Nujiao, are you one of us at Min University?" someone called loudly from the audience.

"That's right, I'm a sophomore at the School of Management. Now, to avoid delaying the rest of the evening, I’ll sing one more song. I know if I only sang one, you’d all be unhappy—might flip the seats or even tear the hall down." Su Tong said with a self-deprecating smile.

The crowd howled with excitement—Nian Nujiao was a student at their university, a senior.

"This guy is showing off again."

"He’s just the same as always, haha."

"So that's his real personality—his TV appearances are just his true self."

"I love how shameless he is, hehe."

The online audience could hear Su Tong’s voice, though the effect wasn’t as good as a computer stream.

"Let me just change outfits—this set isn’t suited for the upcoming battle," Su Tong joked, retreating backstage. "Let the show go on, I’ll be back soon, so don’t run off. My singing costs neither money nor lives."

Both the live and online audiences burst out laughing; when this guy started clowning around, he could make people laugh even in silence.

As soon as Su Tong left, the next act took the stage.

Backstage, Tang Yan and another male student quickly helped Su Tong change.

"Su Tong, you’re amazing, a real star," Tang Yan said, her face flushed as she helped him out of his shoes.

Many performers gathered around.

"You just brought the house down, Nian Nujiao, you were incredible!"

The young actors couldn’t help but shout; even backstage, they’d been swept up by the excitement.

"It’s because we’re all young and full of life," Su Tong replied.

He needed to change out of his t-shirt, pants, and shoes: the t-shirt became a black dress shirt, no tie; the pants became slim-fit dress trousers, the shoes replaced with black leather ones, and over it all he wore a black overcoat, unbuttoned.

In this new attire, Su Tong’s temperament transformed. No longer a lively youth, he now looked like a dignified prince.

When he reappeared on stage, everyone gasped—he seemed like a different person, now full of depth and emotion, his earlier exuberance completely subdued.

"Nian Nujiao..."

"Nian Nujiao..."

The audience shouted. Su Tong’s singing was so full of energy and passion that the previous act had felt dull by comparison; everyone had been waiting eagerly for him to come back.

"Many of you may not know that I’m also a livestreamer. Tonight, I was supposed to host a show for my online audience, but I came here instead, leaving them in the lurch. So I want to apologize to my viewers: I love you all, and I love my school too—sometimes you can’t have both." Su Tong spoke as he stepped forward, bowing slightly to the audience, especially for those watching on their phones.

"He didn’t forget about us."

"So touching—he’s performing for us, too."

"It’s like being at a concert—he has to hold a real one in the future!"

The online audience was moved, shouting in the chat.

Su Tong straightened up and smiled. "I have a friend here helping me stream from the venue, so the quality won’t be perfect. Please forgive me, fellow League of Legends fans. The next song is a brand new one, very special—I promise it’ll surprise you!"

Nian Nujiao’s fans were instantly electrified.

"Finally, a new song! I’ve waited so long!"

"Ahhh, he’s about to drop a bomb again!"

"He used to release new songs every couple of days, but this time it’s been a month—so happy!"

Yang Feifei’s spirits shot up. She’d come here on the sly, drawn by the promise of Su Tong’s new song; otherwise, she wouldn’t have bothered, not even for money.

"What kind of song is it, so mysterious?" she grumbled inwardly. Su Tong had even stayed at her house, yet still kept secrets from her.

Su Tong nodded toward the side of the stage, and the accompaniment began.

Suddenly, the sounds of a violin filled the air, followed by the deep notes of a cello.

Yang Feifei’s eyes widened. Why did this song’s style sound so...

Before she could finish the thought, Su Tong’s first lyric startled her.

"Doon dapo"

What language was that?

Not only Yang Feifei, but the entire hall stared in shock.

"Ah~ it’s a foreign language! And not English—does anyone know what it is?" someone shouted.

Su Tong stood there, singing calmly, like a gentleman—completely poised.

"Opera," Yang Feifei blurted, dumbfounded. This guy could write opera too.

"It’s Russian," someone suddenly called out.

Min University did have a Russian department, though few freshmen had enrolled in it, and most had no background in the language. It was a student worker studying Russian who recognized it.

Su Tong had promised a big surprise, but singing in Russian wasn’t that shocking, was it?

Some people were even disappointed; they couldn’t understand a word, and the melody wasn’t especially catchy—only above average, nowhere near as memorable as Nian Nujiao’s previous songs.

His earlier songs were all easy to pick up, the lyrics full of meaning.

But this one felt lacking.

Still, the orchestral strings, the deep cello, and the urgent organ transported the listeners to medieval Europe, turning the auditorium into a cathedral.

"...

Davn bolnn dchpon

Pyo bnprayrv"

As he sang these lines, Su Tong finally began to move.