Ye Chen and Oscarte performed in perfect harmony, giving every listener a feast for the ears.
Especially Ye Chen—his voice was simply flawless.
As the final note faded, thunderous applause erupted on site.
Even Oscarte herself joined in, clapping for Ye Chen.
Every gaze in the hall locked onto him.
At this moment, he was the star.
Oscarte invited Ye Chen onto the stage.
With the help of an interpreter, Oscarte asked with a smile, "Sir, are you from a conservatory?"
Ye Chen shook his head. "No, I'm just a senior-year High School student."
Gasps rippled through the audience.
High-schoolers are this good nowadays?
Oscarte pressed on, "How many years have you studied bel canto?"
Ye Chen replied, "Never studied—just a hobby; I listen now and then."
This time, even Oscarte was stunned.
"Self-taught to this level? Incredible."
The audience buzzed even louder.
"Damn, self-taught—way too awesome."
Oscarte said excitedly, "Mr. Ye, you have remarkable talent. Would you consider studying at the Royal Conservatory? I'd be honored to be your personal tutor."
At her words, the hall erupted again.
Many spectators shot Ye Chen looks of envy, jealousy, and resentment.
After all, Oscarte is a titan of classical music; training under her guarantees a brilliant future.
Even Li Sitong felt her heart race.
Though thrilled by Ye Chen's brilliance, she didn't want him to accept.
Because if he did, he would leave her.
Under everyone's expectant eyes, Ye Chen gave a faint smile. "Thank you, Miss Oscarte, but I can't go."
Oscarte exclaimed, "Why? With your gift, you could become a master musician!"
Ye Chen shook his head, his gaze drifting to the girl offstage.
He said softly, "Because the girl I love is here, so I must stay."
Hearing this, Li Sitong's eyes brimmed with tears.
Below the stage, a boy about to confess was utterly crushed.
So this is what true love looks like.
Handsome, talented, and smooth—no wonder he wins the prettiest hearts.
No wonder I'm forever single.
Long after the concert ended, the boy remained slumped in his seat, unwilling to move.
"Bro, how'd your confession go? Did she say yes?"
After a long silence, his roommate messaged in concern.
The roommate added presciently, "Bro, shot down? Don't worry—drinks on me tonight."
Reading that, the boy's shattered heart felt a warm surge.
"Screw love—Bros before hoes."
Ye Chen and Li Sitong walked out of the opera house.
"Ye Chen, how can you sing classical music?"
Li Sitong was still shocked.
Though they'd been deskmates three years, she'd never known he was this exceptional.
Ye Chen smiled lightly. "I just listen occasionally, then I can sing it."
Li Sitong: "..."
Too modest—just listening and mastering it? Absurd.
Li Sitong loves classical music and knows more than most.
Ye Chen's level just now was master-class; otherwise Oscarte wouldn't have praised him so highly.
She knows how hard it is to reach that standard—years of grueling practice.
Yet Ye Chen casually claimed he'd picked it up by ear—unbelievable.
"Why turn down Oscarte's offer? Many dream of studying classical music under her," Li Sitong asked.
Ye Chen chuckled, "I told you—I can't leave the girl I love."
Li Sitong's cheeks flushed pink.
They walked on; Ye Chen escorted her to her villa gate.
"I'm here," Li Sitong said reluctantly.
The walk felt far too short; she wished time could freeze right there.
Ye Chen smiled. "Thanks for the concert—I loved it. See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow."
...The Mock Exam results came out quickly.
But the ranking shocked everyone.
So much so that the teacher in charge rechecked the numbers. "Of the top ten school-wide, Class Five claims six!" Wang Chao crowed, shooting a smug glance at Xu Liang's darkening face.
"Of the top fifty, Class Five has twenty-five." Wang Chao's voice rose another notch.
Finally, feeling on top of the world, he bellowed, afraid Xu Liang might miss it: "Of the top hundred, Class Five has thirty-eight."
Teacher Xu sat wordless, staring at the results sheet, face black as thunder.
Wang Chao, however, beamed from ear to ear.
Used to gloat at me with scores, huh?
Now you know—thirty years east, thirty years west; don't mock Old Wang for being poor.
"Sigh, our kids—how'd they get so driven? I didn't do much—no secret provincial papers—yet they crushed it."
Wang Chao feigned distress.
"They're just so well-behaved and hardworking. Such stellar scores leave me, their teacher, with no sense of achievement."
The other teachers watched him silently, letting him showboat.
No sense of achievement?
That grin says otherwise.
Yet they had to admit—his results were undeniable.
The numbers stunned everyone.
Six in the top ten, half the top fifty, over a third of the top hundred—miraculous.
In Jiangzhou Middle School's history, no class had ever achieved such heights.
Ordinary classes aside, even Xu Liang's elite Class Two were crushed into dust by Class Five.
No wonder Old Xu sat mute, face like a thundercloud.
To teachers, scores are face and capital.
Why else would Wang Chao strut and brag? His class's grades gave him every right.
Watching the smug Old Wang, the others felt only disdain.
His manner screamed petty triumph.
It left them sour.
Every teacher shared the same mood:
Envy!
Jealousy!
Resentment!
Why aren't those results mine?
Why am I not the form teacher of Class Five?
Unable to bear it, Xu Liang gathered his notes and stalked out of the Office.
Old Wang watched his retreating back and couldn't help chuckling.
The race for Outstanding Form Teacher was settled.
Old Wang had won—truly deserving!