Chapter Eighty-Four: Writing Poems for Fans

Su Tong had vented his frustrations, but as soon as he stepped out of the assembly hall, a phone call summoned him to the principal’s office.

Impulsiveness is the devil. Su Tong searched and searched, and finally found the principal’s office.

“As a public figure, how can you be so reckless?” As soon as Su Tong entered, Principal Song reproached him, then rose and went to the water dispenser, opened the cabinet, took out a disposable cup, and poured Su Tong some water.

“Hey, Principal, let me do it,” Su Tong said, snatching the cup from Principal Song’s hand.

Principal Song still possessed her grace; dignified and elegant, she must have been a great beauty in her youth, and the faint scent of her perfume was mature and alluring.

Guided by the call, Su Tong only knew the principal wanted to see him, but didn’t know which one. He had never met Principal Song before, and he’d barely seen even the dean of his college.

“My surname is Song,” Principal Song said with a smile, liking Su Tong more the longer she looked at him. She had listened to his speech from a corner of the hall, and this child was indeed talented.

He had improvised the speech; the written draft wasn’t earth-shattering, but his delivery was thunderous, drawing all the audience in. Not a single listener thought to applaud; everyone was simply furious, furious, and more furious.

“Hello, Principal Song.” Su Tong finished pouring the water and handed the cup to her, noticing that she had no cup on her desk and guessing she must have just arrived at the office.

Principal Song had indeed arrived just before Su Tong. She was surprised by his keen observation, a glimmer of delight in her eyes as she took the cup from him.

“My throat was burning after the speech just now. Principal Song, let me have a few cups before we talk.” Su Tong poured himself another cup, raised it, and drank.

A giggle sounded from behind the principal’s chair.

“Haha, I can’t take it anymore, I just couldn’t hold back…” Principal Song’s daughter, Shi Jiaqin, crawled out, laughing so hard she was doubled over.

“Come here, behave yourself. You’re in your second year of high school,” Principal Song said, feigning annoyance.

Shi Jiaqin ran over with a mischievous grin, not even glancing at her mother, her eyes fixed intently on Su Tong.

Su Tong stood frozen for a moment, then handed the second cup of water he’d poured to Shi Jiaqin. “Here, you have some water too.”

Shi Jiaqin opened her mouth, absentmindedly accepting the cup, and then her cheeks flushed bright red.

“This is just to hold for me. I’ll pour you another cup. Don’t steal mine,” Su Tong instructed, then went to pour more water.

Shi Jiaqin’s face reddened even further, her eyes shining with stars—her brother was so handsome.

“I won’t drink what you’ve already had,” Shi Jiaqin retorted, but her eyes drifted toward the cup in her hand, her fragrant tongue licking her lips.

Su Tong poured another cup, bumped his cup against hers before switching, saying, “Cheers,” and then withdrew his cup to drink.

Shi Jiaqin stole a glance at her mother. If her mother weren’t right there, she wouldn’t be so embarrassed to drink from the cup, but with her present, should she drink or not?

“Oh,” Su Tong realized, immediately swapped cups with Shi Jiaqin, laughing, “Almost forgot.”

After drinking, Su Tong said, “Principal Song, your daughter is truly beautiful.”

Shi Jiaqin was simply a younger version of Principal Song; Su Tong couldn’t be mistaken. His praise was a double blessing, making both Principal Song and Shi Jiaqin happy—especially Shi Jiaqin, whose cheeks were as red as an apple.

Principal Song had called Su Tong mainly because of her daughter; chastising him for his impulsiveness was just an excuse.

“Brother, how do you study? You skipped two grades, and our class is proud of you. Everyone is determined to become a top student like you,” Shi Jiaqin said shyly.

“Endure loneliness and study with focus,” Su Tong replied.

Just a few simple words, but Principal Song nodded deeply.

Shi Jiaqin pondered them, her eyes shining. Her brother was right—sharp and to the point. These were qualities many students lacked.

“Brother, I’ll remember that. Let me have a few autographs, please.” Shi Jiaqin, normally outgoing, found herself suddenly timid around Su Tong, worrying that her short denim skirt and tight shirt might seem too revealing, or that her ponytail wasn’t attractive enough.

She was nervous about everything, feeling utterly ill at ease. Thinking of her friends who’d asked her to get autographs from Su Tong, she finally summoned her courage.

“Ha, just autographs? I can give you as many as you want,” Su Tong said generously, taking the pen and several notebooks.

“Catching Eels
Nian Nu Jiao”

“Childhood
Nian Nu Jiao”

“Frogs Are the Greatest
Nian Nu Jiao”

“I Believe
Nian Nu Jiao”

And so on.

Su Tong not only signed, but also wrote down the names of several songs, all belonging to Nian Nu Jiao.

Shi Jiaqin’s eyes widened as she watched the elegant script flow from Su Tong’s pen.

It was beautiful! She hadn’t expected Su Tong’s handwriting to be so lovely.

Many celebrities’ autographs were messy beyond recognition, hardly attractive at all.

Shi Jiaqin had never been a fan; she’d always looked down on those who idolized celebrities and cherished illegible autographs, thinking it was self-deceiving—what value was there in a signature you couldn’t even read?

Before asking Su Tong for his autograph, she worried his signature might be too unconventional, but it turned out to be graceful and clear—the very autograph she’d dreamed of.

Principal Song was also slightly surprised. Su Tong’s handwriting didn’t strive for the so-called artistic heights, but rather for a grounded style that anyone could read.

“Which notebook is yours? I’ll write you a poem. Haha, this poem hasn’t been published yet. I’ll write it in your notebook, and you can help me take a picture and post it on Weibo later,” Su Tong said, still full of youthful exuberance.

“A poem?” Shi Jiaqin nearly swooned with happiness. Her brother’s talent was indisputable, and she quickly pulled out her own notebook.

Su Tong took out his phone, logged into his Weibo, and handed it to Shi Jiaqin.

Her brother’s phone, and his Weibo account—right in her hands. Shi Jiaqin was so excited she was speechless.

“Facing the Sea, with Spring Blossoms”

Su Tong began writing in the notebook.

As soon as the title appeared, Shi Jiaqin’s heart leapt, her mouth agape.

So bright, so romantic, so majestic—a vast, vibrant scene unfolded, filling one’s heart with joy.

Principal Song’s beautiful eyes lit up as well. A modern poem, and the grandeur of its title immediately captivated.

“From tomorrow onwards, be a happy person
Feed horses, chop wood, travel the world
From tomorrow onwards, care for food and vegetables
I have a house, facing the sea, with spring blossoms”

Su Tong wrote slowly, sometimes pausing to recall, for he didn’t fully remember Hai Zi’s poem.

Just these lines sent Shi Jiaqin into a daze, and Principal Song’s eyes sparkled.

“…
Give every river and every mountain a warm name
Stranger, I also bless you
May you have a brilliant future
May you and your beloved become lifelong partners
May you find happiness in the mortal world
I only wish to face the sea, with spring blossoms”

When Su Tong finished, Shi Jiaqin was so moved she was nearly in tears.

This poem was wonderful—even if it wasn’t written by Su Tong, she would have loved it; but now, it was her idol’s own handwriting, penned in her notebook.