The morning passed quickly, and by the time the clock struck 7:30, the school festival officially began.
Compared to other schools, Sudi High School wasn't particularly large in terms of student numbers. Each grade had at least six classes, no more than seven, and each class was capped at forty students. Altogether, there were about forty classes, with a total student body of around 1,600.
That might seem like a small number, but students at this school weren't only chosen for their special talents or abilities—their academic achievements were also exceptional. Any one of them placed in another school would easily rank within the top fifty.
When student quality reaches this level, quantity becomes less important. The real challenge is how to educate these 1,600 outstanding individuals.
Having fewer students also had its advantages. There weren't bloated crowds to manage, and everything moved quickly. Even assembling everyone in a large sports arena with space for over ten thousand didn't feel crowded or sluggish. A thirty-minute prep time was more than enough.
At this moment, the host on stage was introducing the school's traditions and inviting school leaders to deliver the opening speeches. Of course, what they said was mostly fluff with little substance. Still, on such a significant school festival day, some things needed to be said. The scheduled time for this speech was half an hour.
Not everyone had to stay seated and listen to these speeches. Visitors from outside the school weren't going to sit through all the talking and instead wandered around the campus.
However, some areas were off-limits to non-students, so there wasn't much to see. As a result, quite a few people remained in their seats, waiting for the opening speeches to end and for the performance phase to begin.
Each performance was limited to five minutes. Short plays or comedic dialogues could extend to eight minutes, but on average, each act would take about six minutes. With forty classes performing, the total runtime wouldn't exceed 270 minutes—this was the maximum duration set when the festival schedule was established.
It was estimated that all class performances would finish around 1:00 PM. However, it had already been announced that individual performance events would begin after 12:00 PM. That meant students with later performances could leave early to prepare their acts.
The campus had over a hundred small 3x4 meter stages arranged, each spaced at least ten meters apart. This setup provided ample room and gave the audience a wide variety of choices.
The temporary backstage dressing rooms in the gymnasium were designated for students to rest and wait before performing. At that moment, Chu Lian and her group were resting in Dressing Room No. 7.
Their performance slot wasn't among the earliest, but not the latest either—somewhere near the middle. Their estimated performance time was between 10:30 and 11:00. That didn't leave them much time, considering an hour had already passed since the opening ceremony.
Even from the dressing room, they could clearly hear the cheers outside. On stage were the students from Class 2 of the first year. Their act was a performance of the moonwalk, popularized by the American global superstar Michael Jackson.
A group of students dressed in black suits, wearing ties and holding black hats. Though their small stature betrayed their young age, when their bodies began to move with the rhythm of the music, and their feet glided with moonwalk steps, the crowd erupted in non-stop screams.
It was the most impactful performance so far. Many in the audience had likely seen others imitate this dance before, but rarely had they seen it live—let alone performed by a group. Even if they weren't perfect, they were still amazing for their age group.
It seemed that in order to qualify for the class trip, Class 2 had brought out their secret weapon. Or rather, not a secret weapon, but a well-prepared sharp blade. Each class had a few of these blades—the only difference was which ones were sharper.
Even if a performance strayed from the festival theme, as long as the quality was high enough, it could still score well. The school didn't enforce the theme rigidly—it was more of a suggestion than a requirement. Judging from the ten performances so far, not a single one aligned with the theme.
Except for Chu Lian's homeroom teacher, all the other teachers had been at the school for years. They knew when to expect performances and had anticipated that the tenth anniversary would be a big event, so they began training early. They knew the boundaries and how far they could go within the school's tacit approval.
But as a rookie homeroom teacher, Chu Lian's instructor was still just following the rules step by step.
To be fair, it wasn't entirely her fault. She was a newcomer—lacking seniority, experience, and connections. Her class had also been missing students, so she never considered performance preparations until the festival plan was officially introduced.
However, while her class was only just starting, other classes had been secretly preparing for quite some time. In that sense, they were already behind.
Given that she had been under close watch by the school administration since joining, she probably could have been informed earlier. But the higher-ups had their own intentions and decided to test her instead—making her the last to know.
That's why, on this stage where she hoped to prove herself, her feelings were complex. She longed for success but feared that the limited training time would lead to failure.
Seeing the other impressive class performances—ones that clearly strayed from the theme yet still scored highly—only increased her anxiety.
What she didn't realize was that her own unease and lack of confidence had begun to affect the students preparing backstage.
By the time she noticed, it was already too late. At a loss for words, she quietly left the dressing room and went to the bathroom.
Not long after she left, Dressing Room No. 7 fell into silence. That was because the person now standing behind Chu Lian, helping with her makeup and brows, was none other than Ayase—dressed in a striking red outfit.
Chu Lian could still vividly recall how Ayase had knocked and entered moments earlier, and how everyone reacted as if they'd been hit with a freeze spell.
Bai Tiange stood dumbfounded, not knowing what to do.
Wang Tingsi shrank back as much as possible, trying to stay out of sight.
Zhang Feng quickly lowered his head, avoiding eye contact.
Cai Ya was surprised by her beauty but also glanced at her with a hint of scrutiny.
Lux seemed overwhelmed by her presence and dared not block her path.
Ruriko Nana subtly stepped away, showing a bit of fear.
Li Xiu'er, who had come to help, avoided her gaze entirely, hiding behind Chu Lian.
Chu Lian saw all of this and found it quite normal. Even though Ayase had toned down her aura, the natural grace and presence she exuded was something these still-maturing teens couldn't withstand.
If their minds had been a little more developed, they might have fallen for her at first sight.
Dressed in a fiery red dress, Ayase walked in gracefully, ignoring how others looked at her. She went straight to Chu Lian, took the comb from Li Xiu'er, and started grooming her hair.
In truth, Chu Lian's natural look was already the best way to highlight her unique charm. But since the upcoming performance involved modern music—specifically guitar, which required a strong personal image—some light makeup would be more effective for her currently soft and delicate appearance.
Ayase hadn't come just to do her makeup—her main goal was to boost the morale of the group, most of whom were performing on stage for the first time.
Of course, this was at Chu Lian's request. She herself couldn't manage such a task, so she had turned to Ayase for help.
To persuade her, Chu Lian had paid quite a price—agreeing to be Ayase's bed-warming maid and cuddle pillow for the next ten days.
Why she made such a ridiculous and embarrassing deal, and why Ayase agreed to it… well, that's a black mark in their history we'll set aside for now.
Still, a promise is a promise. That's why Ayase made her appearance. She had timed her arrival for when the teacher was away, so her time here was limited.
"Little Lian'er told me some of you have never performed on stage before and are feeling nervous. She was worried you might mess up, so she asked me to come," Ayase said casually while combing Chu Lian's hair.
"But I didn't expect you to be this hopeless. Look at those people outside, then look at yourselves. Do you really think you've already lost?"
In the mirror, Ayase's expression was cold as frost.
"If that's all it takes to break you, then you're far too fragile…"