Chapter 68 It’s Not Quite Appropriate for You to Go

The stage lights softened, focusing on the two standing side by side.

The ethereal, flowing melody of “Moonlight and Dust” began to drift through the air.

Lu Er was the first to sing, his voice as clear as ever.

But because of the person beside him, there was a faint, almost imperceptible tremor in his tone—along with a deeper emotional investment.

When he reached the line, “I walk toward the light, stepping over a thousand waves,” Lu Er unconsciously turned his head to look at Song Jingmo beside him.

To his surprise, Song Jingmo lowered his lashes slightly, parted his thin lips, and seamlessly picked up the next line.

Song Jingmo’s voice carried a low, magnetic quality, perfectly capturing the longing and distance within the lyrics—adding an extra layer of storytelling.

Lu Er’s heartbeat skipped.

He had never heard Song Jingmo sing before, nor had he expected him to interpret the song with such precision.

Every transition, every breathy note—it all felt as though it had been practiced countless times.

They took turns singing, and when their voices blended in harmony, their coordination was astonishing—like they had rehearsed together over and over again.

Their gazes met briefly in the air, only to separate again just as quickly.

That unspoken, restrained atmosphere didn’t feel like a performance.

It felt more like a carefully crafted music video, telling a quiet story of admiration and pursuit.

The audience below held their breath, captivated by the unexpected harmony and palpable tension on stage.

Qu Suiwan held up her phone, snapping many photos of the perfectly matched pair from different angles.

Watching this scene, Gu Jinzhou leaned closer to Yan Huaijin, his tone laced with provocation.
“Teacher Yan, that Doctor Song—he’s Director Qu’s own son.”

“If you really like him, you’d better make your move quickly. Don’t let someone else get there first, or you’ll regret it later.”

Yan Huaijin’s gaze never left the stage. The look Lu Er gave Song Jingmo was completely different from the one he gave him.

Especially the subtle, wordless chemistry between them—it made Yan Huaijin’s brows knit unconsciously.

Too in sync.

And Qu Suiwan’s natural, affectionate attitude toward Lu Er was clearly different from how she treated ordinary artists.

Yet at lunch, there had been an unmistakable awkwardness and distance between Lu Er and Song Jingmo—nothing like the closeness one would expect.

This contradiction filled Yan Huaijin with doubt—and a faint, unspoken sense of crisis.

When the performance ended, the applause lingered for a long time. Lu Er and Song Jingmo walked off the stage one after the other.

Lu Er was still immersed in the shock and tangled emotions from earlier, his cheeks slightly flushed.

Yan Huaijin stepped forward with two bottles of water. He first politely handed an unopened one to Song Jingmo. “Doctor Song, you worked hard.”

“Thank you,” Song Jingmo replied lightly. He took the bottle, twisted the cap open with his slender fingers, and took a sip—without any intention of passing it to anyone else.

Lu Er’s gaze fell on the hand holding the bottle.

Those hands were long and well-proportioned, with defined knuckles. With just a bit of force, the veins on the back would stand out, giving them a striking, almost sensual look.

He clearly remembered how those fingertips felt—slightly cool. The parts that often held a scalpel were covered with a thin layer of calluses.

When they touched skin, it felt a little ticklish.

Seeing that Song Jingmo showed no special concern toward Lu Er—if anything, even a hint of indifference—Yan Huaijin’s previously tense nerves relaxed slightly.

A gentle smile returned to his face as he handed the other bottle, already opened, to Lu Er.
“Have some water, soothe your throat.”

Lu Er’s gaze was still unconsciously following Song Jingmo’s hand as he drank. Seeing no reaction from him, a faint trace of disappointment flickered through his heart.

He accepted the water and said softly, “Thank you, Teacher Yan.”

Watching Lu Er obediently drink the water he gave, Yan Huaijin glanced at Song Jingmo’s expressionless face, and most of his doubts dissipated.

It seemed Song Jingmo didn’t have that kind of interest in Lu Er after all.

In a better mood, Yan Huaijin smiled gently. “There’s food over there. Why don’t we get something to eat?”

As he spoke, he naturally placed a guiding hand lightly on Lu Er’s back, leading him toward the dining area.

Song Jingmo held the bottle, his gaze landing on the hand resting on Lu Er’s back.

Watching Lu Er follow Yan Huaijin obediently, his expression remained calm—but he tilted his head back and took another large gulp of water.

Gu Jinzhou swayed over gracefully and sat down beside Song Jingmo. “Doctor Song, you sang really well just now—no worse than a professional singer.”

Seeing no reaction, he shifted topics. “Teacher Yan and Lu Er really have a great relationship. You often see them attending events together—their photos look amazing.”

He continued to stir the pot. “Teacher Yan is usually quite distant with people, but he treats Lu Er especially well—so attentive and considerate.”

“Among ourselves, we’ve even wondered if they’ve been together for a while, just not public about it.”

At this, Song Jingmo’s lips curved into an extremely faint, cold smile.

He turned his head slightly toward Gu Jinzhou. “I’m not interested in entertainment industry gossip.”

Gu Jinzhou choked on his words, his smile faltering.

Not far away, Lu Er, who was picking food at the buffet, couldn’t help but glance toward Song Jingmo.

When he saw Gu Jinzhou sitting close beside him, chatting and smiling, a sudden surge of irritation flared up inside him. He stabbed his fork hard into a piece of cake.

Following his gaze, Yan Huaijin frowned slightly and said in a low voice, “Gu Jinzhou has a pretty messy private life—complicated relationships with both men and women, no real boundaries. You’d better stay away from him.”

Hearing this, Lu Er’s heart tightened even more.

Song Jingmo might be incredibly intelligent, but in the entertainment world, he was practically as naïve as a blank sheet of paper.

He didn’t understand the twists and schemes—or the dirty tactics.

What if Gu Jinzhou had ulterior motives…

Lu Er instantly lost his appetite, absentmindedly poking at the food on his plate, all his attention fixed on Song Jingmo.

Afraid that if he looked away even for a moment, his precious “good cabbage” would get snatched away by a pig.

Seeing that Lu Er hadn’t eaten much, Yan Huaijin carefully picked up a small, delicate dessert and held it to his lips. “This one’s good. Want to try?”

Still fully focused on Song Jingmo, Lu Er instinctively opened his mouth and accepted the bite.

Combined with Gu Jinzhou’s earlier insinuations, a wave of irritation mixed with an indescribable sourness rose in Song Jingmo’s chest.

He stopped looking in their direction and silently picked up a glass of wine from a passing tray.

One glass after another, he used the alcohol to numb his spiraling emotions.

When he looked up again and saw Yan Huaijin leaning close, speaking gently to Lu Er—

Song Jingmo finally snapped.

With a soft bang, he set the empty glass down on the table and abruptly stood up.

His face cold and sharp, he said nothing as he turned and strode toward the exit of the banquet hall.

Seeing this, a calculating glint flashed in Gu Jinzhou’s eyes. He quickly stood and followed.
“Doctor Song, wait for me!”

The moment Lu Er saw Song Jingmo suddenly leave—and Gu Jinzhou chase after him—he panicked. His fork clattered onto the plate with a loud clang.

Without thinking, he stood to go after them—but Yan Huaijin gently held his arm.

Looking at him, Yan Huaijin’s gaze was complicated. “They seem to be getting along quite well. It’s not really appropriate for you to go.”

Lu Er froze.

That’s right… in what capacity could he go after him?

As just an ordinary friend?

Or as the one who kept insisting they were “just brothers”?

He could only watch helplessly as Song Jingmo and Gu Jinzhou disappeared one after the other through the banquet hall doors—

His heart feeling like a bottle of mixed flavors, all overturned at once.