TRYMBPIETM 111: Revival of All Things (32)

Several artists’ expressions became even more awkward.

They looked at each other, unsure how to respond.

Chi Qingzhou leaned against the table in the performance classroom, quietly watching them.

Intense malice surged through a few of them, but since it couldn’t find a target, it was ultimately forced to dissipate into the air.

The shadow beneath Chi Qingzhou’s feet quietly extended thin tendrils, cautiously trying to hook onto that malice.

…It failed to catch anything.

That wasn’t surprising—after all, the malice hadn’t been directed at him.

The shadow withdrew dejectedly, moving slowly, as if reluctant to let go.

Chi Qingzhou’s lips lowered slightly, and a hint of regret appeared in his eyes.

Such potent malice—what a shame he couldn’t use it.

Chi Qingzhou sighed inwardly.

His colleagues were really too unkind. It seemed he should properly explain to them what it meant for good deeds to be rewarded.

Straightening up, he walked to the door of the performance classroom and said seriously, “Speaking ill of others behind their backs is not good behavior. One should be kind—only good people receive good rewards.”

Chi Qingzhou spoke earnestly, but the artists listening could barely hold back their laughter.

What era was this? And there was still someone saying such blatantly hollow slogans?

Even an idiot wouldn’t act like this!

So, was Chi Qingzhou just putting on a show because he couldn’t be bothered to come up with something better?

That made sense. After all, Chi Qingning was the culprit who had caused him years of suffering—he’d have to be truly stupid to forgive so easily.

They exchanged glances, seeing mockery and ridicule in each other’s eyes.

One artist, suppressing a laugh, deliberately said to Chi Qingzhou, “Oh, it’s Teacher Chi. Sorry, we didn’t realize you had already arrived for class.”

Chi Qingzhou didn’t reply. He simply tilted his head and looked at him, his pupils giving the illusion of complete indifference.

The young artist was momentarily stunned. But when he looked closer, he felt he must have imagined it.

Still, an eerie sensation crawled up his back, and he instinctively took half a step back before forcing a smile. “Teacher Chi, don’t look at me like that. We were only speaking out of a sense of justice.”

He glanced at his groupmate, and the trainee in his team immediately chimed in, “Right, right. Teacher Chi, you really can’t blame us. You’re an artist from our company, which makes you our senior. Of course, we’ve looked into your past experiences.”

Spreading his hands, he gave a helpless smile. “We all have soft hearts. After learning about what you went through, how could we not feel bad? You suffered for so many years—everyone who hears about it feels sad.”

“Teacher Chi, it’s true that talking about others behind their backs isn’t great, but this was just a genuine expression of our emotions! We’re sure you understand how we feel, right?”

As he spoke, he subtly signaled to the others. The group immediately joined in, loudly insisting that Chi Qingzhou would surely forgive them—after all, he was such a kind person.

Chi Qingzhou, as if not hearing the sarcasm in their voices, maintained the same faint curve to his lips.

“What are you talking about? I’ve never suffered.”

The artists’ rowdy voices came to an abrupt halt.

Their first reaction was that Chi Qingzhou was being sarcastic, but when they looked closer, his expression was far too sincere.

For two seconds, they were completely dumbfounded before bewilderment took over their faces.

No way, no way—did Chi Qingzhou really believe that?

One artist blurted out, “You don’t call that suffering? Don’t tell me you’ve listened to too much nonsense and… er, had a problem with your perception?”

He had originally meant to say that Chi Qingzhou has a problem with his brain, but his colleague nudged him, prompting a last-minute rewording.

That colleague also added, “Teacher Chi, you shouldn’t believe the words of those with ulterior motives. Some people are just scum—they’ll only deceive you for their own benefit.”

Chi Qingzhou blinked, his expression appearing even more obedient.

“That’s not possible. There are no scum around me.”

The system, hiding in the shadows: 【…】

It suddenly recalled the moment it first arrived in this world.

It cautiously peeked out from the shadows and saw that, sure enough, the artists had expressions that were hard to describe.

What the system didn’t know was that, aside from finding the situation difficult to put into words, those artists also felt as if they had just been played.

Looking at the sincerity in Chi Qingzhou’s eyes, they couldn’t help but want to curse, “Are you actually insane?”

But they were at the company, and this was a hallway where other artists and trainees could pass by at any moment—they didn’t dare to say a word.

They hadn’t officially debuted yet. If someone recorded a video or took a photo of them insulting their senior, they might lose their hard-earned opportunities.

Yet Chi Qingzhou’s response left them feeling suffocated. For a moment, they even suspected that some competitor had deliberately bribed him to lead them into making a mistake.

That was unlikely.

Maybe Chi Qingzhou had just been completely brainwashed—so much so that he was now humbling himself to please a fraud.

The artists subtly gestured to each other, reminding one another to stay calm.

Maybe Chi Qingning was actually deeply favored by the Chi family, and Chi Qingzhou was only doing this to integrate into the family.

They exchanged glances, and the more they thought about it, the more plausible it seemed. A sudden sense of dread hit them.

If that was the case, then what they had just said was far too offensive!

Since Chi Qingzhou wanted to curry favor with the fake, he might even go and complain to Chi Qingning about them.

Their minds raced, their expressions shifting several times before they finally forced out dry smiles and repeatedly claimed it was all a misunderstanding.

“We read about it online and thought that Teacher Chi’s adoptive parents were really like what was shown in the videos.”

“Yeah, yeah,” someone’s eyes lit up as they quickly chimed in. “We all saw that surveillance footage. Your adoptive parents looked so fierce, and your younger brother didn’t seem easy to get along with either. That’s why we misunderstood and assumed they weren’t good to you.”

The others eagerly explained:

“Right, right, if it weren’t for that video, we wouldn’t have gotten the wrong idea about you.”

“The main issue is that what they did in the footage was just too much. You must have been really heartbroken back then, right?”

“So that’s how it was. Looks like you didn’t mean any harm.”

Chi Qingzhou appeared enlightened, as if he actually believed their nonsense.

Yet his curious gaze lingered on them, watching their performance with great interest.

It was quite rough—so unpolished it was as if they had never learned any facial expression control at all.

But precisely because of that, it was all the more amusing.

It was completely different from what he had imagined.

The artists forced smiles, but they couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about Chi Qingzhou’s gaze.

Perhaps it was his demeanor, or perhaps it was how utterly sincere he seemed—but they never once suspected that he was simply watching the show unfold, secretly amused.

Instead, they cursed him twice in their hearts.

Had they actually run into a living saint?

They inwardly cried out in disbelief, but at the same time, they couldn’t help but feel relieved.

A saint was good.

If Chi Qingzhou was really that kind of person, they could get away with just brushing things off with a few casual words.

They quickly said, “Yes, yes, it was just a misunderstanding.”

Chi Qingzhou nodded, looking easygoing and reasonable. “Since it’s just a misunderstanding, as long as we clear it up, there’s no problem.”

The artists felt a surge of relief and eagerly nodded. “Teacher Chi is right. It was just a misunderstanding. Now that it’s cleared up, we definitely won’t do anything like that again.”

None of them even realized what the point of this entire roundabout conversation with Chi Qingzhou had been.

After some pushing and shoving among themselves, they turned and made their way toward the end of the hallway, still smiling.

“Well then, Teacher Chi, if there’s nothing else, we’ll be heading to our training class.”

A long, slender shadow suddenly shot up and yanked the collars of the artists, forcibly pulling them back even though they had already taken several steps forward!

The artists were startled, instinctively letting out low cries. They wanted to turn their heads to look, but their collars were pulled so tight that they couldn’t move their heads at all.

Panic filled their hearts, and for a brief moment, the thought “How did this so-called saint manage to grab so many people at once?” flashed through their minds before it was drowned out by anxiety and unease.

“Teacher Chi, what are you doing? Didn’t we already explain just now?”

The artist who usually took the lead tried to sound tough but was clearly lacking confidence, raising his voice unnaturally high.

“We still have a class to attend. If someone walks by and sees this, they could easily misunderstand the situation. If rumors spread outside that a senior is bullying newcomers, it won’t affect us much since we haven’t debuted yet—but for you, Teacher Chi, that wouldn’t be a good thing at all.”

Artists cared about their reputations, and by the end of his words, the underlying threat in his tone was quite obvious.

Chi Qingzhou was honestly a little surprised.

He examined the artists held by his shadow and found himself unable to determine whether they were bold or cowardly. Their thought process was just completely chaotic.

Interesting.

A thought crossed his mind, and he pretended not to hear their words, smiling as he said, “Didn’t you say you wanted to clear up the misunderstanding with my brother? But you haven’t even met him yet—how are you going to do that?”

As he spoke, he showed a genuinely troubled expression. “Ah, you’re not feeling embarrassed, are you? No need to be! My brother is very understanding. Even though you spoke badly about him, as long as you sincerely apologize, he will definitely forgive you.”

The artists: “…?”

What the hell?

Brother, do you even hear yourself?

Forgive? They’d be lucky if Chi Qingning didn’t go out of his way to suppress them!

They were now certain that they had been completely played. But given the setting and their positions, they didn’t dare to openly express their anger. They stubbornly insisted that they had class soon and pleaded for Chi Qingzhou to let them go, or else they would be late.

One artist even blurted out nonsense in desperation: “Chi-Ge, just let us go! Being late is really bad behavior! Didn’t you tell us to be kind? This isn’t kind at all!”

He shouted this randomly without expecting anything to come of it—yet, to his utter shock, the grip on his collar actually loosened slightly in the next second.

The young artist froze.

No way, no way—did that actually work?!

His mind was filled with disbelief, but he didn’t stop talking. Instead, he kept trying to persuade Chi Qingzhou, repeating over and over how he should be kind.

Chi Qingzhou seemed to ponder for a moment before nodding. “You’re right. I shouldn’t hold up your class.”

The group hadn’t expected him to be so agreeable. Overjoyed, they quickly responded in unison.

Chi Qingzhou let out a soft chuckle.

In that instant, the dense, unseen yin energy that had been lingering in the hallway suddenly dissipated, and the elevator that had been stuck on the lower floor slowly began to rise.

He withdrew his shadow, still smiling, and said with deep meaning, “So, I’ll just let my brother come to you instead.”

The artists: “…Huh??”

They turned around in confusion just as the elevator doors opened.

From inside, Chi Qingning rushed out, looking visibly flustered. His gaze swept the hallway, and the moment he spotted Chi Qingzhou, he abandoned all caution and ran straight over, clinging to his arm with an expression of dependence and delight, pitifully calling out, “Second Brother.”

The sincerity and joy on his face were unmistakably real, leaving the artists completely dumbfounded.

Chi Qingzhou’s eyes curved as he smiled. “Perfect timing, little brother. These junior brothers had some misunderstandings about you and wanted to clear them up. I was just about to bring them to you.”