28: Chapter 28 Say I Love You

His thumb hovered over the screen for three seconds.

He locked the screen.

He flipped the phone over, screen down, and decisively placed it face down on the sand.

Su Wantang's direct message, like a grenade with its pin still in, was temporarily set aside.

Li Li's mind was as clear as a mirror; two fuses were burning at the same time. One was the bizarre "lyrics coincidence" on Su Wantang's end, and the other was right now.

He didn't rush to dwell on the old accounts from a year ago. Instead, he looked up at Jiang Rumu, who was three meters away.

She was still sitting there, looking at the sea.

But her posture was off.

Her entire body was tense; from her stiff neck down to her toes buried in the sand, she was like a fully drawn bowstring. Her phone screen was lit, resting right next to her knee. She hadn't spared it a single glance, but Li Li knew she had seen everything.

In the livestream room, the bullet comment pinned to the very top carried a sharp malice that could be felt even through the screen:

"An A-lister with thirty million followers doesn't even dare to sing a song?"

Eight seconds, twenty thousand likes.

The casual viewers didn't care about any ex-girlfriend gossip; they only recognized one thing—you mentioned a "quid pro quo" earlier, so now it's your turn to sing. Where is the song?

Fans were frantically trying to control the comments, attempting to flood the screen with "say no to moral kidnapping," but it had little effect. With thirty million people online, the casual viewer base was too massive, and public opinion was already spinning out of control.

An A-list actress with thirty-four million followers, who had won major acting awards and broken ten billion in box office revenue.

Yet, when it came to singing, she was being roasted over the coals.

Li Li stood up, brushed the sand off his pants, walked over in a few steps, and crouched down beside her.

He lowered his voice, asking in a tone only the two of them could hear:

"Are your songs really that embarrassing to show?"

These words were like a needle, precisely puncturing her tense defenses.

Jiang Rumu whipped her head around, the night wind messing up her hair, leaving a few strands clinging to her cheeks.

"You've never heard them?"

Li Li shook his head.

He really hadn't. He had been in this world for barely forty-eight hours, dealing with airstrikes, drag racing, princes, and military rations... He hadn't even fully researched what movies Jiang Rumu had starred in, let alone her albums.

"Not even one?" There was a hint of disbelief in her tone, as if she were trying to confirm if he had just crawled out of some cave.

"Not even one."

She stared at him for a full three seconds. Her look wasn't one of suspicion, but rather of re-evaluating his species classification.

Right in front of her, Li Li pulled out his phone and typed "Jiang Rumu album" into the search bar.

The results popped up.

Two of them.

Sweetheart Bubbles—2022. The cover featured Jiang Rumu in a pink princess dress, wearing heavy dewy makeup, making a finger heart at the camera.

Love Cotton Candy—2023. The cover changed to light blue overalls with twin tails, with a giant cartoon unicorn in the background.

Li Li's gaze lingered on the two covers for a moment, then shifted back to the woman beside him, who was wearing jeans and canvas shoes, and had just spent a long time watching missiles in a warzone.

The contrast was so massive that it would take gene sequencing to confirm they were the same person.

He tapped on the lead single of the first album, turned the volume down until it was barely audible, and held the phone to his ear.

The intro started playing.

It was the kind of sickeningly sweet melody produced by cheap electronic synthesizers, with a metronome beat more mechanical than a senior citizens' disco.

Then, Jiang Rumu's voice squeezed out of the speaker with difficulty.

"You are my little sweetheart, sweetening my heart, bling~ bling~"

Li Li remained expressionless.

But the hand holding his phone trembled imperceptibly.

He quickly skipped to the next song.

"Hold me tight, oh hold me tight, you are my cotton candy, mua~"

That was enough.

He felt like his eardrums were filing for worker's comp.

Screen locked. He placed the phone face down on his knee.

To be fair, her vocal quality was excellent. Her mid-range was transparent, her breath control was terrifyingly stable, and her high notes hid immense explosive power.

But the songs...

If these songs were put on an interrogation playlist, probably even the most tight-lipped agent wouldn't last three rounds.

Jiang Rumu had been watching his expression the entire time. Seeing him put down the phone, she finally spoke.

"Finished listening?"

"Two songs. That's enough."

"What do you think?" she asked, as if awaiting her final judgment.

Li Li pondered for half a second and gave the most objective evaluation:

"Your voice is great."

He paused, looked into her eyes, and said word for word:

"The songs don't deserve you."

In an instant, Jiang Rumu's entire body relaxed. The string that had been pulled tight from her neck all the way to her ankles finally snapped.

She pursed her lips. It wasn't a smile, but a sense of relief, like "finally, someone said something sensible."

"So you're not singing?" Li Li pressed.

"Not those." Her answer carried a hint of stubbornness.

"Then is there anything you do want to sing?"

She didn't reply. She dug both hands into the warm sand, grabbed a handful, and let it slip away weakly.

What did that mean?

"Give me an hour," Li Li said suddenly.

He stood up, walked back to the livestream equipment without giving her a chance to argue, and calmly dropped a bombshell to the camera.

"Attention, everyone. Just an announcement. In one hour, Jiang Rumu will sing for you all."

The bullet comments froze for a second.

The next second, they exploded completely.

[Ahhhhh, is that true?! Li Li, you're not just making empty promises, are you?]

[An hour! Alarm set! I'm putting this out there: if she doesn't sing, I'll flame you for a year!]

[Wait! Look at Mumu's expression! She seems completely in the dark!]

Li Li didn't look back.

But he heard a dull thud behind him—the sound of someone, in a fit of anger, slapping the sand hard with their palm.

He turned around unhurriedly.

Jiang Rumu was still sitting where she was, but she was completely dazed. Her low ponytail hung crookedly to one side, her mouth was slightly agape, and her hands were still in the position of having slapped the sand.

That expression was a perfect illustration of the three philosophical questions: "Who am I? Where am I? What are you doing?"

On the distant horizon, another interceptor missile shot into the sky, exploding into an orange-red halo of light.

Jiang Rumu's mouth finally closed.

Then opened again.

"Li Li," her voice was a bit airy.

"Yeah?"

"Just now, you agreed on my behalf to thirty million people."

"Yes."

"Without my consent."

"Yeah."

"An hour."

"Yes."

"What on earth... do you plan to have me sing?"

Li Li had already walked back to the Steinway piano. He rested his fingers on the keys, gently tapping middle C with his index finger, producing a crisp, single note.

He turned his head to look at her.

"Do you trust me?"

Jiang Rumu stared at his fingers resting on the keys.

Three seconds.

The waves rolled up, washing over her bare insteps before slowly receding.

She gave her answer.

"Fifty-nine minutes."

The bullet comments went wild again.

[She didn't say she didn't trust him! Not saying she doesn't means she does! Fifty-nine minutes! She's counting down for him!]

[Holy crap! What kind of god-tier plot is this? A one-hour extreme songwriting session?]

[Li Li, what on earth are you doing! I'm so anxious I'm pulling my hair out!]

Li Li didn't look at the bullet comments.

Fifty-nine minutes.

To teach her a song that had never existed in this world.

A song worthy of her voice.

A song that could shut thirty million people up.

He needed to dredge up the most suitable one from his memories of another time and space.

The conditions were extremely harsh.

The melody couldn't be complex; it had to be learned quickly. The vocal range had to sit precisely in her comfort zone, starting with low-to-mid notes, with a chorus that could build up but not blow up. The lyrics couldn't be some cheesy, bubblegum pop song. Most importantly, it had to hold the entire stage with just a single piano.

The playlist in his head spun rapidly like an old-fashioned jukebox.

Melody after melody flashed by.

Too slow. No, there were too many.

Songs he had heard on a broken speaker in his construction site dorm in his past life, songs he had been forced to belt out by roommates at KTV, songs he had played on loop while delivering food late at night... countless fragments of melodies flooded in.

His fingers fell onto the keys unconsciously.

His left hand laid down a chord. E-flat major.

No. Too heavy, like a dirge.

Change.

C major. Bright. His right hand tried a few notes—sickeningly sweet, the same style as her "Sweetheart."

No.

Change again.

G major. Broken chords in his left hand, while the right-hand melody started from the mid-range, climbing up note by note...

His hand stopped.

This was it.

In his mind, a complete melody emerged. Every note, every beat, every breath mark was as clear as if it were etched into his bones.

In his past life, this song belonged to Miss Tsai.

In this life, there was no Miss Tsai on this Earth, nor was there that music video of her spinning around next to a piano in a white dress.

But the melody and soul of this song were still here.

Its vocal range perfectly matched Jiang Rumu's voice.

Its lyrics carried a bit of stubbornness, a bit of defiance, and a touch of girlish tsundere-like pride of "I know you're great, but I'm just not going to say it."

It was worthy of her.

Li Li lifted his fingers from the keys.

He turned his head and found that Jiang Rumu had stood up at some point and walked over to the side of the piano. With her hands clasped behind her back, her weight shifted onto her left foot, and the toes of her right foot were unconsciously drawing circles in the sand.

The sea breeze blew stray hairs onto her cheeks. The lights from the Burj Al Arab shone on her face, highlighting her sharp, clean-cut features.

Li Li looked at her, his fingers falling back onto the keys.

G major, 4/4 time, intro.

The broken chords in his left hand spread out like waves under the moonlight, while the right-hand melody was clean and bright, carrying a stubborn sense of rising energy.

It wasn't the gentleness of "Season of Fireworks."

It was faster, lighter, more like...

A heartbeat.

After playing the eight-bar intro, Li Li clearly saw Jiang Rumu's eyes light up.

It wasn't a reflection of the lights.

It was the melody striking a chord somewhere deep within her.

Li Li stopped.

"This song is called 'Say I Love You'."