Rebirth: A big star falls in love with me

Zhang Yu looked at her and suddenly had an idea: "Close your eyes and imagine—you are severely injured, your wings are broken, and you are struggling in the water. Every breath hurts, every movement exhausts your strength. But you don't want to die, you want to live, you want to fly again..."

His voice was deep and captivating. Song Qian closed her eyes, and as he described, her body began to tremble slightly.

“Now, open your eyes and jump again,” Zhang Yu said. “This time, you’re not just ‘acting’ as a swan; you are the swan.”

The music started again. This time, Song Qian's dance was completely different—every movement was filled with pain and struggle, yet also with an unyielding resilience. That genuine emotion gave the entire dance a soul.

When she jumped to that final, near-death move, tears streamed down her face—it wasn't acting; she was genuinely immersed in that emotion.

The music stopped, and she knelt on the ground, remaining there for a long time.

Zhang Yu walked over and handed her a tissue: "This time it's right."

Song Qian took the tissue, wiped away her tears, looked up at him, and her eyes shone with a strange light: "Director Zhang, you are amazing... How did you do it?"

“I just helped you open that door.” Zhang Yu reached out and helped her up. “The real power is within you.”

His hand was warm and strong. Song Qian stood up, but didn't let go of his hand: "Director Zhang, may I... hug you? Just as a token of my gratitude."

Before Zhang Yu could answer, she had already hugged him. Her body beneath the black training clothes was soft and warm; through the thin fabric, he could feel her curves and body temperature. Her embrace was light, yet tight, like grasping at a lifeline.

Zhang Yu stiffened slightly, but did not push her away. He could sense the girl's excitement and gratitude, and also... a more complex emotion.

"Alright." After a moment, he gently pushed her away. "Keep practicing, and do your best tonight."

"Yes!" Song Qian nodded vigorously, her cheeks flushed. "Director Zhang, will you be sitting in the first row tonight?"

"meeting."

"Then I will dance exceptionally well, so that you will be proud of me!" Song Qian's eyes shone like stars.

Zhang Yu smiled: "Okay, I'll be waiting."

It was already four o'clock in the afternoon when Zhang Yu left the rehearsal hall. The winter sunset shone through the corridor windows, casting long shadows on the floor. Zhang Yu walked to the door and saw a familiar figure standing there—it was Chen Chen.

When did she arrive? How long did she stay?

“Chen Chen…” Zhang Yu was somewhat surprised.

“I came to find you and just happened to see you giving instructions.” Chen Chen’s expression was calm, but there was an indescribable emotion in his eyes. “She dances very well.”

"Hmm, very talented." Zhang Yu walked to her side. "What brings you here? Weren't you going to the library?"

"I've finished my research and wanted to come see you," Chen Chen said softly. "Looks like I've come at the wrong time."

Her tone was soft, but Zhang Yu could hear the bitterness in it. He took her hand: "Don't overthink it, it's just guidance."

"I know." Chen Chen looked down at his toes. "I'm just... a little unaccustomed to it. Before, you only guided me, but now..."

She didn't finish her sentence, but her meaning was clear. A wave of guilt washed over Zhang Yu—he had said he wouldn't hurt her, but in reality, every action he took was hurting her.

"Chen Chen, I..."

"No need to explain." Chen Chen looked up and forced a smile. "I said I could accept it, and I will try my best to accept it. Let's go, we should go back and change our clothes. We have a performance to watch tonight."

She turned and walked away, her back ramrod straight. Watching her retreating figure, Zhang Yu's shelved thought resurfaced—the Starshine Mark... if collecting it was truly necessary, then a girl like Song Qian would be an excellent choice.

But what will be the price? Will it be to hurt Chen Chen?

he does not know.

All he knew was that from the moment he awakened those memories, he embarked on a path of no return.

At 7 p.m., the National Cultural Palace was brightly lit.

Zhang Yu and Chen Chen sat in the middle of the first row. The performance hadn't even started, yet the audience was already full. Zhang Yu looked around and spotted several familiar faces—Li Xiaoming was sitting in the front right row with several investors; Zeng Li and Li Xiaoran were also there, sitting on the other side. Bai Bing, Shu Chang, and Liu Yifei sat a few rows behind them. Even Yang Mi and Liu Shishi were there, sitting on the left.

Almost every female celebrity Xitang had ever met was there. Zhang Yu frowned—was this a coincidence, or was it arranged by Li Xiaoming?

The performance started on time. The first program was Song Qian's modern dance. She changed into a silver-white dance costume, looking like a moonlight sprite under the blue lights. The dance was very powerful, and she expressed the emotions of struggle and breakthrough perfectly. In particular, the spin-to-knee movement that Zhang Yu had instructed in the afternoon was executed flawlessly, drawing rounds of applause.

Chen Chen whispered to Zhang Yu, "Your guidance this afternoon was very effective."

“She has talent,” Zhang Yu said.

The second performance was a folk dance. Song Qian changed into a long red dress and danced the "Red Ribbon Dance." This dance was passionate and unrestrained, full of youthful vitality. Her smile was as bright as the sun, and with each spin, the red ribbons fluttered like a burning flame.

The audience erupted in applause. Zhang Yu could hear people behind him saying, "That girl dances so well!" "I heard she's only nineteen; she has a bright future ahead of her!"

The third performance was the grand finale, "The Dying Swan." Song Qian changed into a white ballet dress, her hair styled in an elegant updo, making her appear as pure as a white lotus. As the music began, the entire audience fell silent.

This time, her dance took a qualitative leap. The near-death pain, the yearning for life, the final struggle and relief... every detail was heart-wrenching. When she danced the last movement—the swan slowly fell, its wings fluttering one last time, and then returning to stillness—suppressed sobs came from the audience.

The music stopped, the lights dimmed. After a moment of silence, thunderous applause erupted.

Song Qian stood up to take her bow, tears still streaming down her face. Her gaze searched the audience, finally settling on Zhang Yu. In that instant, she smiled—a smile filled with gratitude, pride, and an indescribable emotion.

Zhang Yu clapped, genuinely happy for her. This girl was indeed very talented.

After the performance, Li Xiaoming suggested that everyone go out for a late-night snack to celebrate the show's success. Song Qian, as the lead actress, naturally went, and Zhang Yu and Chen Chen were also invited. The group went to a nearby Cantonese restaurant.

The private room was large, seating over twenty people. Everyone took their seats, and the atmosphere became lively. Song Qian had changed back into her casual clothes—a light pink sweater and a white long skirt—her long hair was loose, and she had removed her makeup, revealing a pure and lovely natural look. She sat next to Zhang Yu, talking to him incessantly, her eyes sparkling.

"Director Zhang, did you see that? That spinning motion, after I adjusted my breathing as you said, it's so much smoother!"

"I saw it, you jumped very well." Zhang Yu smiled.