Chapter Twelve: Farewell

In the early morning, Zhou Miao emerged from his room, stretching his limbs with a great yawn. He felt utterly refreshed, as if he hadn’t slept so well in ages. Wang Jiang and Li Feifei were already eating breakfast.

Seeing Zhou Miao awake, Wang Jiang quickly offered him a seat. The aroma of the porridge made Zhou Miao’s mouth water.

“I bet I’ll miss the food here when I go back. Grandpa, could you pack some chili powder for me later? Eating without it just feels wrong now.”

Grandpa chuckled and nodded, “No problem, it’s not worth much. I’ll pack a few bottles for you. If you ever want more, just call me. I make it myself, you won’t find anything as fragrant in the stores.”

“Lin Yanan probably won’t get used to the food at my place. My mom’s cooking has no flavor at all, she’s constantly chanting about healthy eating—a bag of salt lasts her a whole year,” Zhou Miao complained mercilessly.

“It’s alright, Xiaonan isn’t picky. She eats anything. When you get back, take good care of her for me. It’s her first time traveling so far from home, and she’s not much of a talker. I just worry she might upset your parents,” Grandpa said, his concern evident.

Zhou Miao smiled, “Don’t worry about that. My parents are easygoing, they’ll take good care of her. A month at my place and she’ll be plump and rosy.”

Li Feifei had been silent throughout, sitting quietly and watching them converse. Before coming to the transformation program, she’d wondered what kind of people she might encounter.

But none of her expectations came to pass. Instead, she met a boy who looked fierce but was soft-hearted, and a young musical prodigy who seemed out of place in such a setting.

In just over a week, they’d argued and laughed together, moving from initial hostility to reluctant parting. Li Feifei had gained much and found clarity she hadn’t before.

Zhou Miao was a peculiar person. He had the face of a pop idol but none of the burdens; his words and actions were uninhibited, sometimes childish, at other times unexpectedly mature.

Being with them felt like returning to an innocent childhood, making her let go of worries and join in the happiness. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so joyful.

If only time could freeze at this moment...

After breakfast, Zhou Miao washed up quickly. He had little luggage—just a backpack and his guitar. As he stepped out, Wang Jiang and Li Feifei watched him with obvious reluctance.

Zhou Miao grinned and pulled them into a big hug. “It’s not like we’ll never meet again. It’s the age of the internet—if you miss me, just video call! I’m off!”

With those words, Zhou Miao departed coolly, never looking back, only waving from afar to bid farewell to the little mountain village that had gifted him beautiful memories.

He got into the director’s car. The director, putting on sunglasses, asked, “If you’re so reluctant to leave, want to stay a bit longer?”

“No, I’ve done what I needed to do. No reason to linger. I’ll come back for a visit if I get the chance,” Zhou Miao replied, gazing at the scenery outside and taking photos with his newly acquired phone.

On the road, he spotted Li Xiang and waved from a distance. He was quite fond of this warm-hearted girl.

A few hours later, Zhou Miao and the director finally boarded the high-speed train. He let out a long sigh—the heat outside was unbearable, but it was cool inside.

“Will the transformation program keep using this format in the future?” Zhou Miao asked curiously.

The director, in the middle of eating instant noodles, paused and thought for a moment. “No, this is the last season. There won’t be another. Even if there is, I won’t be directing anymore.”

Zhou Miao was surprised. “Why? Isn’t the show always popular?”

Draining the noodle soup in one gulp, the director burped contentedly. “I’ve been doing this show too long—got tired of it. Every show must end, and I think now is the right time.”

Zhou Miao nodded in agreement. “It’s time for something new. Have you thought about what you’ll film next?”

“Not yet. Variety shows are tough these days.” The director looked troubled, then suddenly his eyes lit up as he glanced at Zhou Miao.

“Hey Zhou Miao, how about we discuss something?”

Zhou Miao eyed him warily. “What is it?”

The director rubbed his hands together. “I haven’t decided on my next show yet, but if the time comes and it fits, would you join me for a new program?”

Zhou Miao rolled his eyes. “No thanks. I have zero interest in variety shows, and I’ll be busy for years—college entrance exams, then my band will go on a touring road trip after. There’s no time for TV.”

“Touring road trip? From where to where?”

“From Suzhou to Beijing. We wanted to perform at a music festival, but those are by invitation only. Small bands like ours don’t get in, so we’ll just tour and play wherever we can,” Zhou Miao said, a little resigned.

Any music festival with a bit of fame in the country has high standards for guests. Zhou Miao had contacted several organizers, but as soon as they heard it was a group of high schoolers, they hung up.

The director’s eyes brightened at this. “Music festival? I know those well! Want to perform at Strawberry Music Festival?”

Strawberry Music Festival? It was one of the largest and most prominent in the country—of course Zhou Miao wanted in! But would the director really be so generous?

Sure enough, the director flashed a shrewd smile. “As long as you promise to come on my show when you have time, I’ll help you get into the festival!”

Zhou Miao hesitated. He really disliked variety shows, but performing at a music festival was the band’s shared dream. Gritting his teeth, he agreed, “Deal!”

They sealed it with a high-five, both feeling pleased, both thinking they’d gotten the better end.

At six in the evening, the train arrived at Suzhou Station. Zhou Miao hailed a taxi home, hoping he’d make it in time for dinner.

Sure enough, when Zhou Miao unlocked the door and stepped inside, his parents—mid-meal at the dining table—were stunned.

“Why are you back so soon?” Hong Xue beamed with delight at Zhou Miao. She hadn’t seen her boy for over a week and had missed him terribly. He looked thinner and more tanned.

Zhou Ye sized Zhou Miao up but didn’t crowd him. Instead, he went to the kitchen to cook some noodles. They hadn’t expected Zhou Miao’s return and hadn’t saved any food for him.

Hong Xue pulled Zhou Miao to the table, fussing over him—touching his head, tugging his ear, and muttering, “I can tell just by looking at you—did you refuse to eat and get picky out there? You’re so skinny and dark now, like a little monkey. Not good-looking at all.”

Zhou Miao rolled his eyes helplessly. “Not true—I ate a lot there. Grandpa Lin’s cooking is better than yours. I had two bowls every meal.”

“You ungrateful child. You always think other people’s cooking is better than mine,” Hong Xue retorted, pinching his cheek hard.

Then, worried, she asked, “Did you get hungry on the way? You could’ve called, I didn’t bring you any food.”

“I just wanted to surprise you,” Zhou Miao said with a smile. Then, turning to Lin Yanan across the table, he added, “Hi Xiaonan, I forgot to greet you. Grandpa asked me to bring you some chili powder, in case you don’t get used to the food here.”

Lin Yanan nodded shyly, murmuring a greeting. She had always been reserved around strangers. After spending a week with Zhou’s parents, she was just starting to warm up to them.

At that moment, Zhou Ye brought out two bowls of noodles from the kitchen and invited the director to eat, shooting Zhou Miao a glare.

“Back so soon? Weren’t you supposed to stay a month? Did you get homesick and want to come home early?”

Zhou Miao frowned at him. “Comrade Zhou Ye, do you really think your son is that delicate?”

The director laughed, picking up the thread. “Actually, Zhou Miao did very well over there. His return is like an early graduation.”

Zhou Miao lifted his brows in pride, making Lin Yanan smile. Aunt Hong’s son seemed to be a pretty easygoing guy too.