Yu Weining (GL) · Conversa

Lately, you've spent almost all your time in this livehouse. Whenever Yu Weining's band has a performance, you're guaranteed to show up. You always sit in an inconspicuous corner below the stage, never crowding the front row or joining the commotion, quietly watching the girl on stage holding her guitar. You watch her messy hair blown by the stage fan, watch her intently plucking the strings and opening her mouth to sing, watch that excessively clean light in her eyes—a light that reality hasn't managed to extinguish yet. Nobody knows who you are. Among the countless ordinary fans, you are simply the most regular, most silent one. Only you know the truth—you came back to pay off a debt, to pamper the past self who had no one to cherish or protect her. And because of this, you can clearly see even the smallest shifts in her mood. Recently, Yu Weining has been far too happy. In the past, after a show ended, she would always be somewhat deflated, quietly complaining to her bandmates about how tough the road was, how small the venues were, and how few people actually listened. But over the last half-month, she's been floating on air, secretly smiling even after stepping off the stage, walking with a bounce in her step, with an uncontrollable joy hidden in her eyes—as if she had suddenly spotted a reliable way out. The string in your heart instantly tightened. You know this state all too well. This is the eighteen-year-old Yu Weining, on the verge of falling into a trap, wholeheartedly believing she has grasped the dawn of her dreams. Sure enough, tonight as the performance wrapped up and the band was packing their gear, you saw that familiar figure. The man was dressed neatly and decently, his smile perfectly calibrated, his speech measured and calm. Looking elegant and dependable, he had the exact persona most likely to lower a dream-chasing kid's guard. It was Qin He. You stood at a distance, watching quietly. Watching him proactively approach backstage, tossing out phrases like "I think very highly of you all," "You have great potential," and "You just need a professional team to push you," painting the most enticing picture. "I have resources and channels. I can book official commercial shows and platform exposure for you. With proper packaging, you definitely won't be limited to small livehouses." "You're young and full of talent. If you practice hard, I'll take you further." Every word was gentle, and every word struck at the soft spot of youth. Yu Weining stood before him, her eyes astonishingly bright, listening with absolute seriousness, her back pulled straight. She was even a bit embarrassed, asking in a low voice, "Is it... really possible? We're just a small band with no reputation." Qin He's smile grew even warmer: "That's precisely why you need me. Newcomers lack opportunities the most, and I'm willing to give you this chance." Finally, he handed over his business card with a casual flick of his fingers: "Look it over and reach out whenever you're ready. Opportunity waits for no one." You saw everything crystal clear. When Yu Weining accepted the card, her fingers were light, carefully clutching it in her palm. She looked down at it several times, the corners of her mouth curving up uncontrollably. You know her too well. At this moment, her mind is already set. Without anyone rushing or pushing her, she has already decided to spend the next couple of days organizing herself before going to find Qin He to sign the contract. It is this very contract that will swallow several years of her youth down the line, draining all her passion, works, and value, only to toss her aside like trash in the end. When the crowd mostly dispersed and her bandmates went ahead to move equipment and clear the venue, leaving backstage in a messy bustle... You stepped forward and called out to Yu Weining, who was about to head out. "Yu Weining." She turned at the sound of her name, the lingering smile still in her eyes. When she saw it was you, she visibly paused, then softened: "Oh? You haven't left yet?" You come often, so she has an impression of you. She knows you're that quiet fan who attends every show. Your tone was very light, like casual chit-chat: "I just finished listening. You sang exceptionally well today. I wanted to chat with you for a bit, if it's convenient? I won't take up too much of your time." Without a shred of guard, she nodded right away, hugging her guitar a bit tighter to her chest, and said softly: "Sure! It's fine, no rush at all." The two of you walked out of the noisy venue. The night breeze was cool, the street had few pedestrians, and streetlamps stretched out one by one, creating a peaceful scene. You intentionally softened your tone, acting like a slightly older sister figure who was willing to listen to her: "I noticed you've been in great spirits lately. Completely different from before—you look happy every day." Yu Weining felt a bit shy from the compliment and scratched her head, the tips of her ears turning slightly red as her eyes curved into smiles: "Is it really that obvious?" "Extremely obvious." You looked at her, your tone natural. "Feels like something good is on your mind lately? Your whole person just looks radiant." She looked down and kicked a small pebble by the roadside, unable to hide her excitement. After holding it in for a few seconds, she couldn't resist sharing her joy, confessing in a low voice: "Actually... I recently met a manager brother." You understood in your heart, but kept your expression steady on the surface, simply following her lead: "Oh? Really?" "Yeah!" Yu Weining's eyes lit up instantly, and she rambled to you with great enthusiasm: "He's super nice. He came over specifically to find us today, saying he thinks very highly of our band and believes we have tons of potential." Her tone was earnest, filled entirely with trust: "He said he could sign us, help us package ourselves, make songs, and get shows, so we don't have to stay in small venues forever. It feels like... someone can finally see us." At this point, she looked up at you, her eyes carrying a young person's unique yearning along with a slight, cautious uncertainty: "Doesn't that sound pretty good? I feel like I'm a tiny bit closer to what I want to do." Looking at her clean, unadulterated eyes, your chest felt sore and aching. You didn't directly deny her joy, nor did you bluntly state "he's a scammer" or "he'll ruin you." You simply slowed your speaking pace, using a very gentle, mature tone to chat with her gradually. "It does sound very tempting." You validated her first so she wouldn't feel defensive. "If someone proactively takes an interest in you and offers an opportunity, anyone would be happy." Yu Weining immediately nodded, the light in her eyes growing even brighter. Only then did you slowly continue, your tone light as if casually offering a reminder: "But Weining, can I share some real talk from someone who's been around the block, alright?" She blinked, obediently responding: "Mm, go ahead." "The industry is actually quite messy." You looked at her, your tone gentle yet serious: "The more someone promises the world and seems completely flawless, the more you actually need to keep your guard up. Truly reliable collaborations won't rush to make you sign a contract, nor will they make endless empty promises." Yu Weining froze slightly. The smile on her face faded a bit as she listened intently. You continued to advise her slowly, every word a thoughtful suggestion without a hint of preachy tone: "You love music, you want to sing properly, and you want a stage—that's wonderful and incredibly rare. But right now you're young, and you haven't dealt with company contracts before, so there are many traps you can't spot." "Don't rush to decide." You gently advised her, "Don't sign yourself away in a hurry just because you want an opportunity so badly. Opportunities are plentiful; waiting a few extra days or a couple of weeks won't make a difference." You deliberately phrased it tactfully, yet every sentence hit the key point: "You can take your time to look into his company. See if they really have resources, what artists they've managed, and what their actual reputation is like. Don't just rely on what he says." Finally, you looked at her, your tone soft yet immensely earnest: "You're so suited for the stage, so precious. You deserve a solid, reliable opportunity—you don't deserve to gamble on vague, untouchable promises. You know?" Yu Weining stood quietly in place, pursing her lips without speaking. The fanatical longing in her eyes receded slightly, replaced by a touch of serious reflection. The future she was once so certain of, so eager to grasp, was quietly put on hold by your gentle, patient, and sincere words. The night breeze blew softly past. You knew. This was your first time personally stopping her from falling. And it was your first time stepping in for the whole world to properly protect your eighteen-year-old, foolish self who was charging headlong into the abyss.