Volume One, Chapter 15: "At the Crossroads Where the Flame Flowers Bloom"

When Jiang Yu announced that he would be performing an original song, the audience once again erupted into murmurs.

“The Phoenix Flower’s Blooming Crossroads?”

Director Yang He from the Broadcasting Department was taken aback. He glanced at the flamboyant phoenix flowers blooming beside the campus, then turned to Ning Anbang.

“An original song? Old Ning, this student is truly impressive. To dare perform an original piece at an event like this—that’s real talent!”

Ning Anbang nodded and smiled. “I saw this song when it was first written. It’s inspired by the phoenix flowers in our school—it’s an absolutely outstanding work.”

“Oh? Since you speak so highly of it, Old Ning, I must listen carefully.”

However, upon hearing their conversation, Li Jiang became restless. “Principal Ning, you’re not just promoting your favorite student, are you? This young man is so inexperienced—what good song could he possibly write?”

“I know these young people well. They think too much of themselves, always believing they’re gifted. Sadly, their work tends to be self-indulgent. Still, if they undergo some hardship, I believe they can become real talents.”

Ning Anbang’s face darkened. Li Jiang claimed to be critiquing the students, but his words were really aimed at them. What did he mean by self-indulgent? Even those veteran artists, creating their works in obscurity—wasn’t that also being self-indulgent?

“I disagree with your opinion, President Li,” Su Ling interjected. “Judging something as self-indulgent before even listening—isn’t that too arbitrary? We’d miss out on so much. We should recognize their creative spirit, shouldn’t we?”

Li Jiang, dissatisfied, was about to retort when Yang He said calmly, “It’s starting. Let’s listen first, and talk afterward.”

With the leader’s words, Li Jiang had no choice but to fall silent. He could comment on the side, but he dared not challenge a superior directly. He looked toward the stage.

There, Jiang Yu sat before the piano, his slender fingers gently brushing the keys.

A melodious tune drifted out.

“The river of time flows into the sea, at last we part and go our separate ways.”

“No harbor can hold us forever.”

“In my mind, there’s a crossroads where the phoenix flowers bloom.”

“There, I have my most cherished friends.”

At the first line, the audience, previously restless and noisy, fell silent without realizing it.

Unlike those lively songs that provoke screams, this gentle melody drew them in, making them want to listen quietly.

“Once more, the phoenix flowers are in bloom; I think of an old friend I haven’t seen in ages.”

“Memories slowly come alive with feeling, the hills dyed red at the parting crossroads.”

“Youth takes some things away and leaves others behind; what remains is a lingering warmth in my heart.”

Gradually, the entire audience was enveloped in silence.

All the students about to graduate couldn’t help but glance at the phoenix flowers in full bloom across the campus.

For reasons unknown, their hearts ached, their throats felt choked, and though they opened their mouths, they didn’t know what to say.

Memories of the past four years played in their minds: the laughter and quarrels with classmates, sharing meals, competing for victories, and the playful jests of wanting to “be each other’s dad.”

Such subtle moments replayed like a film in their minds.

What was happening? Their eyes grew misty.

The four years had vanished before they had time to react.

What once seemed so far away was suddenly here—graduation had arrived in a heartbeat.

“The river of time flows into the sea, at last we part and go our separate ways.”

“No harbor can hold us forever.”

“In my mind, there’s a crossroads where the phoenix flowers bloom, where I have my most cherished friends.”

There were no explosive stage effects, but this clear, gentle voice flowed into every soul, soothing their ears and comforting the depths of their hearts.

No one applauded.

Not because it wasn’t wonderful, but because everyone was so immersed in the song, they didn’t wish to disrupt it with any noise.

Even the rowdy trio from Dorm 250 was silent.

During a brief interlude with only the accompaniment, the LED screen behind the stage began to display group photos—every department, every major, every class.

Smiles shone from every face.

They threw their mortarboards high into the sky.

They leapt joyfully in the sunshine, celebrating their graduation.

At last, four shining words appeared on the screen:

“Happy Graduation.”

Jiang Yu continued singing.

“Perhaps there aren’t many things worth commemorating, but at least these memories are deep enough.”

“Do you, far away, feel the same? The hardships of growing up, the fragrant moments.”

“When I once again sing the song you wrote, it’s as if I’m back in those days.”

It wasn’t just the graduating students—even those already working, when they heard this song, found their eyes brimming with tears.

Back then, they were innocent, naive children, carefree on campus, happiest when singing at karaoke with a group of friends.

Now, their university days were far behind, but today, in this campus, this song seemed to carry them through time.

Many teachers wiped their eyes, thinking of friends from their own college days.

Discussions broke out.

“How beautiful—so simple, yet so moving. I’ve never heard a song like this.”

“When the phoenix flowers bloom, some people leave, but others begin new lives.”

“How I wish I could live it all again.”

Backstage, Su Muyu’s eyes, clear as autumn water, never left Jiang Yu. Her eyes reddened. In the entertainment world, songs like this had all but vanished.

In the leaders’ section, Yang He’s eyes were full of admiration. “Old Ning, this young man is remarkable. What’s his name again?”

“Jiang Yu,” Ning replied excitedly.

Su Ling, once again astonished by Jiang Yu, wiped her eyes and recalled the pure, innocent days of campus life.

It had been a long time since a song had moved her to tears.

She’d found “Plain Face” stunning, but “The Phoenix Flower’s Blooming Crossroads” was even more so. She was determined—she had to sign Jiang Yu.

Catching sight of the sullen Li Gang beside her, she smiled faintly.

“President Li, what do you think of this original song? Is he the self-indulgent sort you mentioned, or does he not suit the market?”

Li Gang stubbornly replied, “I admit he sang well—so what? How many songs of this quality can he write? It’s just one.”

But at that moment, the students’ voices rose from behind.

“Hey, doesn’t this voice sound familiar?”

“Yeah, I think I’ve heard it somewhere before.”

“Wait, isn’t this the song that went viral on short video platforms—‘Plain Face’?”

“It’s him! Damn, it turns out ‘Plain Face’ was sung by Senior Jiang Yu!”