Chapter 123: The Gathering of Ten Thousand (Part II)

January, 2007.
Recommended song: Richie Jen – "Don't Change."
Disclaimer: This story is purely fictional. Any resemblance to real persons or events is entirely coincidental.

Standing on the stage steps, a gust of chilly, biting wind hit Jiang Yihan full in the face. It was the dead of winter, and the air felt piercing. He rubbed his arms before following the staff members onto the stage.

Behind him, Li Ran removed his blindfold, watching Jiang Yihan’s back. He didn't look at the crowd or ask the staff how many people had shown up; he simply waited, anticipating whatever outcome, good or bad, was about to unfold.

"Wow, we've held this 'Ten Thousand People Gathering' event many times, but this is the first time I've ever seen so many reporters," Zheng Zaiyong’s voice reached Jiang Yihan. Jiang couldn't see them, but the area beneath the stage was packed with three or four hundred reporters—a turnout no less impressive than the final press conference of last year. They held their cameras and recording equipment high, all aimed directly at him.

"Ah, Jiang Yihan has appeared on our stage." Guided by staff, Jiang stood at the front of the stage, beside the host. "Jiang Yihan, why don't you start by greeting our audience?"

A microphone was pressed into his hand. He lifted it to his lips and hesitated. The scene felt desolate, with only the sound of the wind drifting past. "Hello everyone, I am Jiang Yihan." He had delivered the greeting, but it was different from before. There were no cheers, no screams—only a vast, empty silence. His already anxious heart began to waver.

"Jiang Yihan, you've worked hard today. How are you feeling?" Zheng asked.

"Mostly, I feel like the timing is off. When I was promoting on the streets, I couldn't see anyone, so I felt very uneasy," Jiang replied, his voice low. "Now that I'm on stage, the silence is terrifying. When I arrived this afternoon, this was just a vast, empty plaza, and now, with only my voice echoing in the wind, it feels even emptier. It’s truly unsettling."

"Do you lack the confidence that ten thousand people will show up?" Zheng’s question left Jiang in silence.

"Yes, I don't have the confidence," Jiang finally answered after a long pause, his voice trembling—perhaps from the cold, perhaps from nerves, or perhaps from disappointment.

"Why not?" Zheng continued. "You were the one who initiated this 'Ten Thousand People Gathering,' weren't you? Why?"

Jiang nodded, trying to speak, but the words wouldn't come. "Actually, after everything that happened last year, I was just happy to be back on stage..." His voice began to choke up. "After all those doubts and injuries, for a long time, I didn't know... I didn't know what to do."

Jiang lifted his head. The depression and sorrow he had bottled up for months erupted in this special moment. It was strange; facing the dark, empty square, accompanied only by the wind and a profound sense of loneliness, the emotions within him simply spilled over. "I kept wondering... was my hard work even worth it? And if it wasn't, should I just leave?" He fought to suppress his emotions, his voice still trembling. "But in the end, I came back. Whether the audience likes me or hates me, I chose to stand tall on this stage and show them who I am."

He took a deep breath. "Today, whether ten thousand people came or not, I just want to say thank you for coming... truly..." He tilted his head back, struggling to hold back his tears, but the silence below remained absolute.

"Before last year, Jiang Yihan had always performed excellently, but he was hurt by slander and rumors. We all know that such things are a trauma for anyone," Zheng said, his tone filled with understanding. "Re-standing on this stage today, even with all the misunderstandings cleared up, requires immense courage. I only hope that no matter how many people are here today, you will continue to support him in the days to come. I believe everyone has seen how hard he has worked since his debut, including today. His dedication is worthy of our respect."

"Jiang Yihan, if there aren't ten thousand people here today, what will you think?" Zheng patted Jiang, who was shivering, hoping to calm him.

"No matter how many people came, I am happy. Truly," Jiang said, pausing for a long time. "I just hope my hard work will continue, and that your support for me will continue as well. Don't change, okay?"

That simple plea, "Don't change," made it impossible for Jiang to hold back his emotions any longer. He turned away, struggling to regain his composure. Even though the silence remained, everyone understood that what truly broke his heart wasn't the slander or the rumors, but the thought of his fans' hearts changing. Losing their support was what had robbed him of his motivation.

Min Xiaoli sat in the audience, desperately wanting to shout, "Young Master, don't cry! I will support you, I will always support you!" But for the sake of the broadcast, she couldn't. She covered her mouth, her tears flowing uncontrollably. Like her, a vast sea of fans, the "Castle," were sobbing, biting their lips to keep from making a sound, knowing that this was the only way to give Jiang the greatest surprise and joy.

For the fans who had stayed by his side, surviving that period had been difficult enough—the media onslaught, the news reports, the online rumors. If they found it so hard to bear, they could only imagine what it had been like for Jiang himself. Seeing him stand on stage, struggling against tears, thanking them, and pleading for them to "not change," the fans' tears flowed freely. Tissues were useless; the tears simply wouldn't stop.

Although everyone was crying, they remained silent. Jiang, still unaware of the crowd, felt his heart churning.

"Jiang Yihan, are you ready to take off your blindfold?" Zheng asked.

Jiang didn't speak; he just nodded, fearing that if he opened his mouth, he would break down.

At the host's countdown, Jiang removed the blindfold. At first, it was dark, save for the bright stage lights and the reporters. But as his eyes adjusted and he looked further out, he saw a sea of people that seemed to stretch into the infinite darkness.

Finally, the suppressed voices and emotions of the crowd erupted. Screams filled the sky, surrounding them completely.

Looking at the dense crowd, feeling the vibrations from their screams, and feeling the cold wind, Jiang could no longer contain himself. The pent-up emotions of the past few months surged, and he broke down completely. He crouched on the stage, tears streaming down his face as if he were trying to pour out every grievance and every hidden thought. He cried like a child, unable to stop.

Backstage, Li Ran heard the earth-shaking cheers and turned away, his own tears falling. Having accompanied Jiang through those days—as a best friend and as a manager—his own psychological pressure had been even greater. Finally, Jiang had reclaimed everyone's approval. In this moment, Li Ran was no longer an "iceberg" or a cold-faced manager; he was just a kid who had grown up with Jiang, experiencing everything side-by-side.

Below the stage, as the cheers gradually softened, the fans continued to cry, leaving Zheng Zaiyong at a loss for what to do.

After a long while, Jiang stood up, tear tracks still visible on his face. "Hello everyone, I am Jiang Yihan." His voice was hoarse, his eyes red. Seeing him like this made the audience ache for him.

The crowd responded with screams that seemed to use every ounce of their strength. Suddenly, Jiang no longer felt the cold; the night felt scorching with passion.

"Castle members, you know what's in my heart, right?" Jiang wiped his eyes, though more tears spilled out. "Your support is the only reason I'm standing here. I will keep today in my memory forever. I love you all—truly, I love you so much."

His heartfelt words fueled the fans to reach a new peak of energy. Beyond the screams, everyone began to chant one phrase in unison: "Don't change! Don't change!"—the most direct expression of their true feelings.

That phrase caused Jiang’s tears to break through once more. He was fragile today; any sign of love could move him to tears.

Zheng looked out at the plaza, where the crowd seemed endless. "Friends in the back, can you hear Jiang Yihan?"

The roar from the back reached the stage clearly, proving their sheer numbers.

"Everyone, did you prepare a gift for Jiang Yihan? Let's show him!" At Zheng's command, the audience presented their gift.

Holding black and white ribbons in their hands, they raised them in turns, chanting in unison, "Jiang Yihan is the best! Jiang Yihan is great!"

Afterward, they waved the black ribbons, and under the stage lights, the sight was magnificent.

The immense sound shook Jiang's heart. Every person, every voice, every movement moved him. He fought to keep his composure, licking his dry lips. "Thank you. Truly, thank you."

After the excitement, the cruel reality of time set in. The event only counted those who had arrived before 8:00 PM. If the number didn't reach ten thousand, it would be considered a failure.

"Jiang Yihan, do you think you succeeded?" Zheng pointed to the crowd, which stretched out and merged into the night.

"Success isn't the most important thing," Jiang said, his emotions cooling. "Seeing so many people here cheering for me is enough. When I was promoting this afternoon, there were so few people that I was worried about what I would do if the plaza was empty." The crowd laughed. "Now that you've all come, that is my support. Whether we hit ten thousand or not, I am happy. Thank you. Besides 'thank you,' I don't know how else to express how I feel."

"If we succeeded, let's thank the audience with the best stage performance," Zheng said. "Please look at the big screen."

The giant screen at the back of the stage lit up. The numbers began to scroll rapidly. As the crowd cheered, the numbers slowed, starting from the ones column.

3 in the ones place, 1 in the tens, 3 in the hundreds. When the 7 appeared in the thousands, Jiang felt a weight lift.

Seven thousand? Ten thousand seemed impossible now. But the crowd was still praying, hoping for a 1 in the ten-thousands place.

Min Xiaoli clasped her hands, her palms sweating. She had never loved the number 1 so much, especially in this specific position.

Though the odds were slim, they waited for the final result. A few seconds felt like a century. The digit dropped.

First a 0, then it kept sliding. People saw hope. Then it jumped to 1. They were ready to cheer. But a second later, it settled on 2. The entire plaza exploded in incomparable joy.

It wasn't 0, it wasn't 1—it was 2.

27,313.

That was the number of people who had arrived before 8:00 PM.

Jiang’s heart, which had just calmed down, surged again. Tears flowed without warning. He stood where he was, sobbing openly—wailing, really.

Twenty-seven thousand, three hundred and thirteen.

This was the result he had waited for all afternoon, the result he had waited half a year for, and the answer the audience had given to his album, *Rainbow*.

After the staff finished the final count, the total number of people who had attended throughout the day actually exceeded thirty-three thousand. Such a massive number was a first in the show's history, and it was unclear if anyone would ever surpass it.

Wiping his tears, he plucked the strings of his guitar. "Can I Love You?" moved the entire crowd into the gentleness of Jiang Yihan. And with the closing song, "Rainbow," the fans finally saw the rainbow that belonged to Jiang Yihan—it had finally appeared.

After leaving the stage, Jiang didn't say a word. He just hugged Li Ran and cried, as if trying to wash away all the grievances and depression of the past. Li Ran didn't speak either, just wiped the tears from his own face and looked up at the dark sky with a faint smile.

After the rain, the sky had finally cleared.