Chapter 160: I Like You, You Are My Exclusive Memory!

The crowd below erupted completely!

"AAAAHHHHHH!!!"

Cries, screams, applause, the mad waving of glow sticks... all merged into a tidal wave of emotion powerful enough to tear the roof off!

Song Jiaru stood there.

Standing in that single beam of light.

Standing in her own overflowing sea of tears.

Standing in the sea of stars formed by thirty thousand people's unreserved love and a decade of shared memories.

She took another deep breath.

Tears still poured down wildly, but her voice suddenly became incredibly firm:

"Today..."

She looked down at the wedding dress on her body, decorated with ten years of obsession and waiting.

Then she raised her head, her gaze slowly sweeping across the vast sea of glowing lights flickering for her below.

Finally.

She fixed her eyes once more on the direction of that VIP box.

Her gaze was so persistent it seemed it could burn through the glass.

"I'm wearing a wedding dress, standing here."

"Standing on this stage."

Her voice suddenly rose, carrying the sacred force of a proclamation:

"I want to say to that person—"

A deep breath.

Tears kept falling, but her voice grew steadier and brighter:

"Thank you."

A pause.

These two words echoed, echoed, echoed in the silent venue.

"Thank you back then..."

Her voice softened, carrying a dazed, reminiscent tone:

"For letting a crybaby, introverted little girl who was afraid even to talk to strangers, who only dared to hum songs secretly under her covers late at night..."

"Dare to dream."

"Dare to tell the air that she wanted to stand on a big stage."

"Dare to believe that a girl like me could actually... stand in the light."

"Thank you for every late night when I doubted myself, felt I was terrible, and wanted to disappear, for telling me..."

She imitated the gentle, patient tone from her memory, softly repeating:

"'You can do it, Jiaru.'"

"'Your voice was born to be heard by many.'"

"Thank you for the first song you wrote for me... thank you for every song you wrote for me..."

Her voice choked up again, but the corners of her mouth strained upward, maintaining the brightest, most stubborn smile:

"Thank you for letting me know..."

"That a plain, timid girl like me, who once thought she was worthless..."

"Could also be valued by someone... treasured so uniquely, guarded like a rare, fragile jewel..."

She raised her hand and wiped her face roughly, almost crudely.

Her makeup was a little smudged, but she smiled brilliantly, dazzlingly, like a phoenix reborn from the ashes.

"And thank you... to you now..."

Her gaze locked firmly on the direction of that box:

"For being willing to sit here... to watch with your own eyes..."

Her voice choked again, tears surged, but her smile grew even stronger and brighter:

"That little girl from back then... who needed you to coax and encourage her just to shiver and move forward..."

"Has finally..."

"Grown up."

"Is finally able... to stand alone in this light."

"To take the words you said, the songs you wrote..."

She gripped the microphone tightly, using all her strength to hurl the last sentence resoundingly at the world:

"Sing them to the whole world!"

...

The truth was laid bare.

Everything came to light.

At this moment, all the audience belatedly, fully understood every unusual detail of this concert.

Yesterday morning, #SongJiaruEmbracingMysteryManByWestLake# had topped the trending list. In the photo, she smiled like a flower, her eyes soft as melted honey.

Yesterday afternoon, her long-dormant personal Weibo suddenly posted a photo: a uniquely shaped diamond ring that was clearly not from any commercial brand.

Tonight, she appeared in this dress—clearly not a performance costume, but a real wedding gown!

That bridal attire was splendid and heavy, clearly inscribed with resolute determination.

And just now, that monologue—a virtual public confession, a soul-baring revelation.

All clues strung together like pearls.

All metaphors were crystal clear.

Song Jiaru.

The famous "zero-scandal clear-stream queen" of the Chinese music scene.

The "low-key queen" known in the industry as the hardest to please, the most protective of privacy, drawing an almost harsh line between her work and personal life.

The "Scandal insulator" that paparazzi had staked out for a decade without catching a single solid lead.

At thirty-one years old.

Before thirty thousand spectators and countless cameras—she publicly announced it!

That "him" was right there in the audience!

In that box!

Connecting this to Song Jiaru's earlier words about every song being written by him, many fans instantly recalled a mysterious name—

"July 9th."

(TL Note: The pen name "July 9th" used as the credited songwriter for all of Song Jiaru's hits.)

That name, like a splendid yet silent shadow, had run through every moment of Song Jiaru's career.

All her beloved classic hits—from the stunning debut that first caught attention to the god-tier songs that swept major awards—the composer and lyricist credits were uniformly signed with this seemingly casual yet unforgettable date pen name.

Industry speculation ran rampant; paparazzi never stopped chasing; but no one had ever glimpsed their true identity.

They only knew this person was monstrously talented, with a style as changeable as a ghost, excelling in both lyrics and melody—truly the most mysterious king behind the scenes of the Chinese music scene.

In multiple interviews, Song Jiaru had referred to this mysterious collaborator as "that initial light," "the dream-builder of my music world," and "without him, there would be no Song Jiaru of today." The admiration and dependence in her tone far exceeded normal working relationships.

If it was him... everything made sense!

Only he—the one who had paved a starry road for her with one song after another—could be worthy of this proud, radiant woman standing at the top of the Chinese music scene, wearing a wedding dress, crying off her expensive makeup in front of ten thousand people, using all her lifetime's courage to utter this scorching confession that was almost a "proposal"!

The glow sticks waved even more madly!

The screams almost tore vocal cords!

The entire stadium was plunged into a near-frenzied carnival atmosphere, mixed with heartbreak and blessings!

Song Jiaru took another deep breath and closed her eyes.

Two seconds later.

The first note of the prelude, like a stone thrown into a deep pond that had been silent for ten years, rippled out the first destined circle.

She lifted her eyes.

Tears still glistened in her eyes, crystalline at the corners.

But the corners of her mouth lifted into the most dazzling, most unrestrained smile of the night—a smile of a victor and a light-chaser!

She gripped the microphone tightly, as if holding her fate and her weapon.

Her voice exploded! Tears fell with the music! Radiant light!

"Loving you,"

"is my exclusive memory!"

...

Just the first line!

The whole venue fell dead silent!

The breathing of thirty thousand people seemed to be strangled at that moment!

Thirty thousand pairs of eyes were nailed to that glowing figure on stage!

Then came an avalanche! A tsunami! Heaven and earth overturned!

Applause, screams, cries, the roar of wildly waving glow sticks... everything that could be called "sound" exploded at that moment!

Converging into an emotional nuclear blast powerful enough to destroy all reason, sweep all senses, and drown all emotions!

The entire Binzhou Olympic Sports Center Gymnasium trembled!

The steel frames of the dome seemed to hum!

...

Inside the box.

Xu Yunzhou's eyes were already brimming with tears.

This time, it was no longer through a cold glowing computer screen, no longer through occasionally distorted cheap speakers.

But vividly, truly, without any barrier—he watched that timid little girl who once only dared to hum his tunes softly in the dead of night...

Watched that stubborn girl who, after hearing he might "leave," cried so hard she couldn't breathe while stubbornly hitting high notes in the practice room until she lost her voice...

Finally.

Before thirty thousand people, on the most brilliant stage, wearing the most beautiful wedding dress, shedding the truest tears, facing the whole world and him...

She sang out that line, delayed for ten full years, echoing to the sky—

"Loving you is my exclusive memory."

And the moment that first line came out, he couldn't help but smile wryly and shake his head.

This girl...

Her courage had truly been... fostered by him, bit by bit.

So much so that she dared to face the world and use this method to give him a grand, romantic, public confession.

Xu Nuo sat silently beside him.

She too was watching that woman below, glowing like a human luminescent body in the spotlight, breathtakingly beautiful.

Listening to those lyrics that shook the sky, struck the heart, every word soaked in ten years of obsession and deep affection.

After a long while.

She handed Xu Yunzhou a tissue, and softly, with a tone of emotion, said:

"Teacher."

Xu Yunzhou turned his head to look at her.

Xu Nuo's gaze remained on the stage, her profile in the dim light of the box carrying a gentle relief:

"This song is for you."

She paused, her voice very soft but exceptionally clear, each word like stating a long-confirmed truth:

"You..."

"Really are each of our—exclusive memories."

Unique.

Unforgettable.

The only light in the long darkness.

The only warmth in the cold desolation.

The first driving force behind who they had become today.

(TL: The song is Exclusive Memory by Jordan Chan btw.)