I was actually looking for it.

Star Show Preliminary Round.

The 100 finalists were all arranged to wait in one studio, while their companions were arranged in a smaller room with a split screen for the competition venue and backstage live broadcast, in order to avoid affecting the filming crew's work.

With a slight bluish tinge, Jiang Songhe's gaze was fixed intently on the screen. When he caught sight of Jiang Songyun in the image, his eyes lit up. When the camera panned to someone else, his gaze became relaxed and unfocused, his nostrils twitching occasionally in place of a yawn.

Jiang Songyun was in great shape, and her confident singing and dancing, done in small increments to conserve energy, reminded Jiang Songhe of her younger brother when he was on set, always so serious and focused, waiting for the on-site instructions from the actors' coordinator while memorizing his lines.

Jiang Songyun reappeared in the scene, and Jiang Songhe's eyes lit up instantly again.

Everything had been fine until now. For some reason, Jiang Songyun looked flustered and twisted his upper body, rummaging through his pockets as if looking for something.

Actors often develop the habit of avoiding the camera while filming. After touching it for a while, Jiang Songyun looked up and helplessly met the camera's gaze.

Something must have really happened that's making him very anxious.

Perhaps it was a telepathic connection between brothers, but Jiang Songhe had a gut feeling that Jiang Songyun was looking for him. Sure enough, just as he took his phone out of his suit jacket pocket, Jiang Songyun called.

"Brother, my drumsticks are gone." Jiang Songyun's voice was weak and dejected. "What should I do? I'm going to be useless now..."

Jiang Songhe didn't remember packing drumsticks in Jiang Songyun's luggage before coming to Maner, so he ignored the nonsensical pun and asked directly, "What drumsticks?"

"The limited edition CrystalBeat drumsticks that Nasi gave me!" Jiang Songyun said, getting even more anxious. Realizing he might be filmed at any moment, he covered the microphone and whispered, "They were still tucked into my belt when I entered the studio, but now they're gone!!!"

"How could you just take other people's things like that?" Hearing "Naxi Ge," Jiang Songhe was a little angry, but she didn't know why she was angry. She even forgot to loosen her grip on her younger brother and scolded him, "How did I teach you? Don't put your palms up."

“How can it be casual?! Because I participated in the recording of Nassi's single, Nassi said he gave it to me as a thank you gift! It’s not casual for me to take Nassi’s gift as a lucky charm, and it’s not casual for Nassi to carve my name on the drumsticks!”

"..." Jiang Songhe suddenly remembered the Ratah 91 that he had rejected, and choked up abruptly. Then he realized that he should focus on the important things, so he asked seriously, "Let's not talk about that for now. Can you recall where you went after you entered the studio? I'll go find it for you."

"I only went to the bathroom upstairs once, and stayed in the shed the rest of the time..."

"Okay, don't panic." Jiang Songhe glanced at the time on the screen. There were still nearly two hours before the official start of the recording. Finding a named object should be more than enough time, unless...

"Have you paid attention to the opponent you're paired with?" Jiang Songhe lowered her eyebrows and probed indirectly, "Has he left? Where has he gone?"

"Him? He's even worse! He didn't go anywhere, just stayed around me like the Grim Reaper, watching me like a shadow. I didn't even see him drink a drop of water, let alone go to the bathroom! Every now and then he'd float over like a ghost, spouting weird nonsense like, 'Janus likes me, I'll beat your ass,' blah blah blah. It's insane! PK is about skill, besides, I'm not gay..."

Jiang Songhe choked again, then realized she had worried too much. Her younger brother was generally confident, and the drumsticks were just icing on the cake. So she breathed a sigh of relief, but didn't mention whether she could find them or not.

"Good momentum, keep it up." He just chuckled and encouraged, "I believe you can turn the tables and beat him."

-

A private lounge for celebrity judges.

Jonathan leaned back on the U-shaped sofa in the center of the room, holding an iced Americano in his right hand to refresh himself, and examined his left hand against the light to see if the foundation had covered the lingering pinch marks.

Knock knock knock, someone's knocking on the door.

Wasin stood guard outside the door; the person knocking at this hour was probably a staff member coming to cite the procedure. Jonathan lowered his hand, and out of politeness, turned his head from behind the sofa back, which was facing away from the door, and replied, "E in, please."

The person who came was covered from head to toe in a cleaning uniform. Judging from his build, he was a young man, not short. His work hat and mask couldn't hide his rather distinctive personality. It's a pity he's doing this job.

He was probably a part-time student working to support himself. Out of consideration for the boy's pride, Jonathan didn't think much of it and just said "Thank you, please help yourself" in English before turning back to the sofa to continue observing his injured hand.

There was a rustling sound behind the sofa, probably the boy tidying up the trash. A moment later, the sound of a door being gently closed came from not far away.

Slurp, slurp, the iced Americano is gone.

Jonathan successfully perked up, got up to stretch his limbs, and strolled over to the trash can. He tossed aside the empty cup, and as his gaze shifted to the side, he noticed a set of drumsticks stuck in the corner of the magazine rack next to the trash can.

CrystalBeat limited edition drumsticks engraved with the cursive script "JIANG SONGYUN".

Jonathan frowned in surprise, pulled out his drumsticks, went to the door, flung it open, and peered out to look around. Seeing the boy was nowhere to be seen, he asked Vasin, "Where's the person who just came in?"

Vasin, standing with his hands at his sides in a ramrod-straight posture, raised his broad chin towards the bathroom and asked, "Over there, should I go and grab it?"

"Nothing was lost, what's the point of catching it?" Jonathan complained disdainfully, rolling his eyes.

There are more things.

A thought flashed through his mind, and his brow twitched.

The drumstick was hidden in such a well-concealed place that Jonathan couldn't be sure if the boy had just slipped it in.

The one who hid the things may be someone else who is also here now; perhaps this act cannot be called "hiding" but rather "returning".

And it is also "return".

"Who is 'Yarn'?" Vasin opened his welded-on palm and scratched his rough, dark brown face.

Jonathan's disgust intensified, and he rolled his eyes even more, but he was even less willing to explain. So he said irritably, "It's probably a misunderstanding. I'll go over there and check it out. Be quick and come back. Don't follow me."

-

Using the upstairs bathroom as a central point, Jiang Songhe thoroughly searched all the spaces he had access to in the vicinity, asking everyone he met, "Have you ever seen a drum set with Jiang Songyun's name engraved on it?"

But nothing was gained.

After glancing at the time, he returned to the previously deserted central location, preparing to "try his luck one last time and see if he could run into a cleaner who happened to have picked up the drumsticks and put them away."

I didn't run into them.

That makes perfect sense. With less than forty minutes left before the start of the match, everyone in the factory shed would probably be clustered downstairs at that time. If he were to actually run into them, it wouldn't make much sense.

Where did he get all that good luck?

As Jiang Songhe fumbled for his phone to bring up his WeChat chat with Jiang Songyun, he futilely picked open the doors of each cubicle one by one, checking that the innermost storage room contained nothing suspicious except for a messy cleaning uniform hanging on the partition. Then he turned and walked out.

"Songyun, focus on the competition first." Jiang Songhe pressed the talk button, carefully choosing her words, "Then, Drumstick Bro...!"

Suddenly everything went black as Jiang Songhe bumped head-on into someone who rushed into the room.

The man was tall but thin. His ribs hit Jiang Songhe's abdomen and it hurt a little. His scent was... very familiar, so familiar that it made Jiang Songhe's pores suddenly shrink.

Jiang Songhe hurriedly released the person from his arms, taking a step back to remove the scent from the person's neck. He stood frozen for five or six seconds, then realized that his thumb was still on the talk button.

"Found it." Jiang Songhe released the speak button.

My thoughts were a jumbled mess.

What probably hurt him wasn't his ribs, but the drumstick in that person's hand, the one he had been searching for everywhere. If it wasn't his ribs, then that person shouldn't be so thin, but his slightly sunken, pale cheeks proved that he had lost a lot of weight in just half a month.

Wasn't this drumstick supposed to be given to Songyun? Gifts given away are like spilled water—isn't it assumed the recipient can dispose of it as they please, even throw it away? So why is it in that person's hands? Is he up to some trick again?

Oh well, I won't. The hotel receptionist has already made it very clear what she meant.

Stop being so presumptuous.

The person was probably also thinking, remaining silent for a long time. He looked up and down at Jiang Songhe with a puzzled expression, then glanced at the artist team name tag on the front of his suit jacket, stopped, fluttered his eyelashes, and looked away again.

"Oh, this." The air was so quiet that the person broke the awkward silence first. "Did you put this in my lounge? It's a thank-you gift for Song Yun. Why would you even want this..."

“No,” Jiang Songhe interrupted, denying it. “I’m actually looking for it.”

"..." The man was clearly not expected Jiang Songhe to say that, and his outstretched hand froze in mid-air.

Jiang Songhe held the black-screened phone up to his eyes, checked the time, and then shrugged, "If you don't mind, can you give it back to me?"

"Oh, okay." The person blinked their eyes, which had inexplicably become moist, and placed the drumsticks in Jiang Songhe's palm. "Don't lose them again."

"Uh." She actually meant to say "Mmm," but the "Mmm" went awry as it went through her itchy throat. Jiang Songhe took the drumsticks, preparing to tactically escape the awkward situation. "Songyun's in a hurry, so I'll go first..."

Jiang Songhe tilted his head, signaling the other party to make way.

The other party immediately understood and stepped back to the side to do the same.

He stopped.

The two seemed to be trapped in a vicious cycle. No matter how they yielded to each other or changed their steps, they could always perfectly mirror each other's next move, as precise as if they were dancing a duet.

Unfortunately, both dancers were novice level in terms of skill, and they repeatedly stepped on each other's toes.

Sorry!

"Feel sorry."

"Um?"

"Tsk."

...

This is even more awkward.

"You, stop!" Jiang Songhe was so embarrassed that she stopped her repetitive sideways dance steps with a stomp of her shoe, pressed down on Jonathan's thin shoulders and forced him to stop, saying, "Don't move."

"..." Jonah was stunned for a moment, and a blush appeared on his pale cheeks, as if he had been swayed by her words.

Jiang Songhe turned her head and sighed, "Don't move yet, I'll go this way."

He quickly let go and strode out the door.

He took a few steps, then stopped, and added a sentence with his back to her back—

"Um, thank you."