Keep it a secret.

Perhaps it was Wu Siping’s affirmation, or perhaps Xu Bin had already found the knack himself. All afternoon, he enthusiastically helped the patients waiting for their medicine by massaging their shoulders, necks, and arms, leaving Zuo Chengjiang alone inside to prepare the herbal prescriptions.

Fortunately, not many patients came in, and they were all regulars at Flourishing Hall—most of them let Xu Bin do as he pleased. Only two seasoned patients complained, “Xiao Bin, what’s the point of just having strength? Your technique isn’t quite right.”

Xu Bin replied good-naturedly, “I’ll be gentler, gentler.”

“You can’t rush these things. Dr. Wu’s skills weren’t learned in a month.”

“Yes, yes, no rush at all.”

Tang Yiyi had just finished consulting a patient with her master. She said to him, “Brother Bin has such a good temper and gets along well with everyone. I’ve never seen him argue with anyone.”

Xu Mingtang nodded with a smile. “This child has always had a good temper, rarely loses his cool—he’s been like that since he was little.”

“That’s wonderful. You and Mistress must have had it easy. My brother’s been fighting since grade school—now he’s in eighth grade and he’s still at it every year. There’s just no reasoning with him; he’s like a firecracker—set him off and he explodes. I wonder if all boys in their rebellious phase are like this?”

“Heh, Xiao Bin got into a fight once during that phase too. It was in eighth grade. The teacher called us to pick him up… tsk tsk, one of his eyes was bruised black, his face was swollen, his lip was split, and there was a gash on his arm.”

“I was furious at the time, almost argued with the teacher, but she told me not to worry and took me to the infirmary to see the other two boys who’d fought with Xiao Bin. When I saw them, I really couldn’t stay angry—their injuries were even worse.”

Though many years had passed, a note of pride still came through the helplessness in Xu Mingtang’s tone.

“Brother Bin is amazing—one against two, and he still came out on top.”

“I asked him how he got so good at fighting. Can you guess what he said?”

“What did he say?”

“Qin Baike taught him. He trained with Baike for several days. Sigh, that time we really had to pay some compensation.”

A scene flashed through Tang Yiyi’s mind of Qin Baike training Xu Bin to fight, but no matter how she pictured it, it seemed out of place. If she shrank the two of them down to teenage size—could it be that the young Qin Baike and Xu Bin had once been that wild and impulsive?

After dinner in the evening, Tang Yiyi followed Xu Bin to the Xuan Paper shop. The group relaxed, practiced their song a few times, then sat down for tea and chatted about anything and everything, letting their minds wander.

Xiaoxiao had watched every episode of Avenue of Stars and analyzed all the contestants’ performances. She said that being highly professional didn’t guarantee success; having a unique quality made it easier for people to remember you.

And you needed a story—the more grassroots you were, the more dramatic the contrast, the easier it was to stand out.

None of them seemed to think much about the future. They felt it would be wonderful just to appear on a national TV program once. As for becoming famous, none of them thought that far ahead.

For them, singing after work, posting videos on their Moments or Weibo and getting a string of likes, having a few thousand followers—that was already the best recognition for their singing.

Seeing everyone so happy, Tang Yiyi couldn’t help but ask Xu Bin, “What would happen if Master found out you were practicing singing?”

Xu Bin frowned and thought for a long time before replying with a troubled expression, “If it affects work, he’ll be three stars angry. But if it also delays my professional qualification exam this year, that’s a full five stars—off the charts.”

“…Would you let it affect things?”

“Going to the audition won’t affect anything. But if I make it past that to the weekly rounds, or even the monthly rounds…”

Xu Bin trailed off, glancing at Xiaoxiao. She said, “After the audition, you wait for notification. The exact timing for the weekly rounds isn’t set, but if you go, you’ll definitely need to ask for a week off for on-site rehearsals.”

“A week off isn’t a big deal—just make up an excuse, it’s not that long,” Wen Tao said, not seeing any problem.

But the prison guard shook his head. “A week off is nothing, but you’ll need time for regular rehearsals, right? Can you rehearse and prepare for your qualification exam at the same time?”

Tang Yiyi nodded. “Exactly. You won’t have time to review in the morning—you’re so busy. In the afternoon, when it’s a bit quieter, you’re learning bone-setting. After dinner, it’s rehearsals again.”

“A new song, starting from scratch, for us to work together seamlessly—it’s impossible in less than two months,” Xuan Zhi said.

Everyone fell silent, looking at Xu Bin. He hung his head. “Sometimes I really wish I had a brother—at least I could pass on this legacy to someone else.”

“Doesn’t your aunt have children?” Tang Yiyi asked.

“She got divorced; her child went abroad with her ex-husband.”

“No cousins from your uncles?”

“For five generations, the Xu family has only had one son in each. In my generation, I finally got a cousin, but he moved to the other side of the world.”

Xu Bin’s head drooped lower and lower, as if he wished he could bury it in the sand like an ostrich.

“There’s another way!” Tang Yiyi was genuinely impressed with her own sudden burst of inspiration.