Chapter Fifty-Eight: Xia Zili, Can You Do It?

In the staff corridor, Rin Natsuki had barely taken a few steps when she was caught by the arm from behind by Zili Xia.

“Wait!” Zili panted, her breath uneven. “Can you please explain everything?”

“What do you mean?” Rin feigned ignorance.

“The things I can't remember,” Zili said seriously. “Me, you, and Zi’ang Chen…”

“What exactly is the relationship between the three of us?”

Rin fell silent for a moment, then suddenly replied in a flippant tone, “No idea.”

“Please!” Zili bowed deeply before her. “This is very important to me!”

But Rin sidestepped her bow with a light step.

“I said I don't know, so I don't know,” she replied, her voice playful but tinged with a hidden, icy undertone. “Asking me is pointless~”

“Then I’ll go ask him,” Zili said determinedly.

She was about to run in the direction where Zi’ang had left, but Rin blocked her path.

“You know…” Rin was still smiling, but her smile had lost all warmth. “Don’t you have a concert to perform?”

“I won’t perform,” Zili replied without hesitation.

“And what about Norika Hoshino?” Rin asked coldly. “What about the agency behind you? And the tens of thousands of fans who bought tickets just to hear you sing?”

Zili was at a loss for words.

“Don’t let them down, Zili,” Rin said with disdain, then turned and hurried after Zi’ang.

Yes, Zili, that’s where you and I differ.

If it were me… forget about just tens of thousands of fans—even if the entire human race were set on the scales…

…I wouldn’t care.

Zili stood frozen, staring at Rin’s resolute and unhesitating figure as she walked away, a sudden emptiness welling up inside her. She didn’t know what she had lost, but she felt as though something precious had slipped away.

“Zhenxi, Zhenxi!” Norika Hoshino rushed out behind her. “Are you alright?”

Zili didn’t respond.

Norika hurriedly turned her around, only to find her utterly despondent, a shadow of the radiant performer she had been on stage.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” Norika asked in alarm.

“Sister Norika,” Zili shook her head dazedly, “I… I’m fine. I just need to rest.”

Zi’ang Chen returned to the Budokan and once again checked the staff group chat on his phone.

The staff were efficient, locating people according to the seating list. In no time, they had already found eight individuals.

These eight were very cooperative—or perhaps too cooperative. Some even mentioned that after leaving Linyi Town, they had met with certain acquaintances, asking if they should bring close contacts along as well.

After some thought, Zi’ang told the staff to have them all gather at the west gate of the Budokan and not to worry about the close contacts for now.

The priority was to assemble everyone as quickly as possible, preventing them from mingling with other fans inside.

“Senior!” Rin Natsuki hurried over. “How’s it going?”

“We’ve found a third of them already.” Zi’ang suddenly frowned. “There’s a problem—we need to handle it.”

A staff member had reported that someone in the east section refused to cooperate, insisting on staying until the concert was over.

Zi’ang and Rin quickly arrived to find that the ones arguing with the staff were the very same four otaku who had been near the front of the line earlier.

“I already told you!” Daishi, the one who had tried to smuggle in flowers only to be beaten by his friends, now had the staffer by the collar, spittle flying as he shouted, “Even if I die—even if I collapse and die right here—I must hear Zhenxi sing in the last seconds of my life!”

“Hey, Daishi!” the bespectacled one yelled in annoyance. “Isn’t that going a bit far? If you die here, it’ll alarm the Public Safety Bureau and ruin Zhenxi’s concert! Stop causing trouble for others! If you’re going to die, at least do it outside!”

“Don’t act so righteous!” Daishi sneered. “You just want to kick me out to get rid of me, so you three can stay until the end and ask Zhenxi for autographs and photos, right?”

With that, he clung to the staff member and shouted, “I’m reporting them! It’s not just me—they’ve all been to Linyi Town!”

“You traitor! Are you looking for trouble?” The four soon fell into a scuffle, leaving the staff helpless and exasperated.

Zi’ang strode forward and pulled the four apart—they were surprisingly strong, genuinely fighting.

“Enough!” he said sternly. “Is this really the time to be thinking about a concert? The Public Safety Bureau’s epidemic rules mean nothing to you?”

“How could you possibly understand?” the bespectacled one burst out angrily. “We can go to the hospital anytime, but Zhenxi’s concert—if we miss it now, there won’t be another chance!”

“You can watch the broadcast on TV,” Rin quipped from the side.

“Broadcast?” The bespectacled one snorted and turned to her. “How could that ever compare to being here in person—”

The moment his gaze fell on Rin’s face, he jerked his head back as if shocked, stammering, “A-anyway, we bought tickets just like everyone else. Forcing us out isn’t fair.”

“We understand how you feel.” Resorting to force would only make things worse, so Zi’ang tried persuasion. “But as you said, if an outbreak really starts, how do you think the media will report it? ‘Fans conceal illness to attend Zhenxi Kiryu’s concert, causing mass infection.’ That would affect her too, wouldn’t it?”

At this, the four finally hesitated.

They were all university age, high-spirited and stubborn—authority alone wouldn’t sway them, but invoking Zhenxi Kiryu’s name clearly gave them pause.

“But we don’t feel sick at all,” Daishi protested. “Sure, we went to Linyi Town, but I haven’t heard anything about it being an epidemic area…”

As he spoke, evidently feeling an itch on his neck, he scratched hard.

Four bloody streaks appeared instantly.

The staff: ?

His three friends: !

Zi’ang’s expression changed instantly. “He’s infected! Get him out of here—now!”

But the staff dared not touch him, stepping back in alarm, unwilling to get close.

Instead, the three friends who had earlier beaten him up exchanged a glance, then quickly stripped off their outerwear to wrap their exposed hands, and without further ado, dragged Daishi out.

“Where do we take him?” the bespectacled one shouted.

“West gate of the Budokan!” Zi’ang called out.

“Alright, let’s carry him out and bury him!” the three shouted in unison, hoisting Daishi by the arms and half-dragging, half-carrying him outside.