Green plums cannot become lovers.

Feiniao is still too authoritative.

"You sang so well..."

Someone in the crowd couldn't help but shout it out. And this sentence was like lighting a fuse, immediately eliciting agreement from the crowd.

"Yes, yes, you sang so well."

"Whether it has thorns or not, keep it up!"

The girls stood on the stage, their chests rising and falling slightly. They exchanged a glance, and could see the relief and a hint of joy in each other's eyes.

Sure enough, it was that boy's song that saved the day. It not only stopped the decline in the crowd, but also increased the number of people by a lot in just a few minutes of singing. Roughly speaking, there were about four or five hundred more people than at the beginning.

Jing Qinrencai calmed her breathing and walked to the microphone.

"The last song is called 'Empty Box'."

Her voice still carried a slight tremor from the song she had just finished, but her tone was exceptionally earnest: "This is a song written for us by someone who is very important to us."

Upon hearing this, the people in the audience showed some curiosity again, but that curiosity quickly faded, replaced by a listless expression.

This time they didn't have high expectations, after all, the two original songs they just performed were only so-so.

But because of "Hotaru no Hikari" (The Light of Fireflies), they felt it wouldn't matter if they listened to this last song before leaving.

So no one left.

They stood there, almost perfunctorily preparing to listen to the last piece of music.

however--

When the first note sounded, everyone involuntarily paused for a moment.

That was Momoka Kawahara's guitar, a simple and clean opening, like a breeze passing through an empty room, carrying an indescribable sense of emptiness.

Then came Jingqinrencai's voice, with a completely different texture than before, as if she had stepped into deeper water.

"The blank space is particularly glaring, and the time seems to drag on forever."

The so-called answers are probably nothing more than superficial common sense.

The girl's slightly unique voice, amplified through the microphone, was like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, finally breaking through the thin layer of ice that had been suppressed by the word "ordinary."

The entire bustling park seemed to fall silent for a moment.

Below the stage, everyone was stunned.

No one spoke, no one made any unnecessary movements. Those who had originally planned to leave after listening were now frozen in place, staring motionlessly at the young man holding the microphone on the stage.

She closed her eyes and sang so earnestly, as if the whole world consisted only of her voice and that melody.

An and Asuka stood in the shadows backstage, a slight smile unconsciously creeping onto their lips.

As the music ended, the last note slowly dissipated into the air.

A strange silence fell over the stage and the audience—a silence deeper and more profound than the silence that followed the end of "Hotaru no Hikari".

There was no applause, no cheers, not even whispers. The venue, with over a thousand people, was as quiet as an empty room in the dead of night, with only the faint static of the wind blowing through the microphone stands vibrating slightly in the silence.

But the girls on stage knew this wasn't going to be awkward.

They could sense the weight behind that silence. It wasn't the audience's helplessness at not knowing how to react, but rather that they had been struck by something and needed time to process it.

Jingqin Rencai gripped the microphone, her chest heaving, fine beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Anhe Mao sat behind the drums, gently releasing the drumsticks, only to realize that his fingers were somewhat numb.

Momoka Kawara's fingertips lingered on the strings, a slight stinging sensation spreading through her fingertips. She had been so engrossed in playing that solo that she hadn't even noticed her fingers rubbing against the frets.

The girls looked at each other, all slightly out of breath. They had indeed put in a lot of effort for that song, almost pouring all their strength into it.

But at this moment, everyone's face showed a satisfied and joyful expression.

Then, the silence was finally broken.

"what's the situation?"

Someone in the audience shouted, their voice filled with disbelief and trembling, "What was that song just now?"

"I feel like I'm possessed; I can't move my body at all."

"Was it an illusion? Did I just hallucinate?"

"Such powerful sound... It's unbelievably good, is this really a new band?"

"My whole body is numb, it feels like I just went ice skating."

These voices emerged one after another from the crowd, then spread rapidly like a chain reaction. More and more people began to speak, to discuss, and to confirm with each other that what they had just heard was not their imagination.

The girls stood on the stage, listening to the voices coming from below, and a joy they had never felt before welled up in their hearts.

That feeling was different from any perfect performance in the practice room, and different from any applause received in an underground livehouse. They could clearly feel that what they had just conveyed on stage had truly touched the hearts of those strangers.

This is probably the true meaning of the performance. Ishigami Rina thought to herself.

She spoke into the microphone, trying to make her voice sound calm: "Well then, that concludes today's performance by Thornless. If you'd like to see more, please come back tomorrow."

"do not go!"

Immediately, a chorus of voices pleading for them to stay rose from the audience, louder than ever before.

"One more song! Please!"

Some even raised their hands in a pleading gesture. But Izare Nina smiled and shook her head, bowed to the audience along with the other four girls, and then turned and walked off the stage.

They walked down the stage steps, around the huge curtain, and returned to the backstage area.

The light dimmed suddenly, and the air was still filled with the smell of equipment boxes and cables, but to them at that moment, the smell was like the scent of victory.

An and Asuka were standing in the corner, their hands in their pockets, waiting for them.

"Asuka, how are you?"

An and Subaru were the first to run over, their cheeks still flushed from the performance, their big eyes filled with expectant light, like a puppy that had just completed a great task and was waiting for its owner's praise.

She looked up at An and Asuka, eager to speak, "Did you hear our performance just now? How was it? Was it better than before?"

An and Asuka looked at the girl in front of them who was so eager to get recognition, and then at the four people who followed behind.

Although Si Lingqi and the others didn't rush over to ask like An and Mao did, each of them had the same expectation in their eyes.

He chuckled softly and reached out to pat An and Subaru on the head.

"not bad."

He paused, then added, "Keep up the good work tomorrow."