James Scott could only sigh inwardly. The issue of the disciples' book was easy enough to handle, but as for the crosstalk community, he hadn’t officially brought it up yet, fearing too much backlash. He had only hinted at it to a few fellow apprentices and colleagues, but the situation wasn’t looking good.

In some respects, the crosstalk world was extremely conservative, and with Samuel Parker’s particular background, it was even harder for people to accept.

However, he also considered that Samuel Parker didn’t have much actual performance experience yet, so there was no need to rush. For example, this evening’s gala performance was a great opportunity to showcase his skills.

.

.

The day of the gala recording.

Samuel Parker arrived at the venue early. With someone of James Scott’s status, he had a private dressing room. Henry Carter was there too, though she didn’t actually have a program today—she was simply worried about Samuel Parker’s first performance.

But her son’s performance was much better than she’d expected. He didn’t seem nervous at all, just made the most of his time to rehearse his lines with James Scott while getting his makeup done.

A minute on stage takes ten years of practice offstage. If you put in the work, you won’t be nervous when you step on stage. Since deciding to continue as a crosstalk performer in this world, Samuel Parker hadn’t stopped practicing, even when he didn’t have a show. How could he be afraid of performing?

“Look up, please.” The makeup artist was about to do Samuel Parker’s eye makeup. Drawing his eyebrows was one thing, but she even wanted to apply eyeliner.

Samuel Parker immediately stopped her. With his looks, he should be downplaying his features, not making them stand out with heavy makeup—that would only cause trouble for himself.

Their act wasn’t up yet, so Samuel Parker went to the restroom again. Any physical needs should be taken care of before going on stage. He also took the chance to change into his long gown—Henry Carter, her assistant, and the makeup artist were all in the lounge, but Samuel Parker didn’t ask them to leave; he just went to the restroom himself.

Passing by another lounge, Samuel Parker heard music coming from a door that wasn’t fully closed. It was all Western instruments, followed by a highly recognizable, magnetic male voice—probably another artist performing at the same event.

Samuel Parker was drawn in by the singing and couldn’t help but pause. Although he was more familiar with traditional performing arts, outstanding works could amaze him across time and space.

Through the crack in the door, Samuel Parker caught a glimpse of a figure that looked very familiar. After just two seconds of recalling, Samuel Parker realized it was probably Edward Bolton, whom he’d met at the company building.

Samuel Parker didn’t listen for long before heading to the restroom, where he changed his clothes in a stall.

Once all the buttons were fastened, Samuel Parker brushed off his long gown and stepped out.

He saw Edward Bolton at the sink, dabbing water on his clothes—probably to clean off a stain. Hearing movement, Edward Bolton glanced up at the mirror and then froze, locking eyes with Samuel Parker in a strange standoff through the reflection.

“Mr. Zhang.” Samuel Parker greeted him amicably. He’d since realized his previous question was a bit naive. “Sorry about last time. I just passed by your lounge and heard you singing—you sang really well.”

He looked so genuinely sincere, those beautiful eyes smiling as he spoke, that one might wonder if he looked at mice with the same affection.

Well, the apology did sound quite heartfelt, but Edward Bolton still didn’t want to engage with him.

After a while, he noticed Samuel Parker was still staring at him, and Samuel Parker had even used the formal “您”… Edward Bolton hesitated, and for some reason, against his usual nature, gave him a look in response.

Samuel Parker: “What’s the name of that song? Who wrote it?”

Edward Bolton: “…………”

The song he’d just sung in the lounge was his signature work—he’d written it himself…

Was Samuel Parker doing this on purpose, asking him such a question??

“Are you looking for trouble again?” Edward Bolton directly used his body to push Samuel Parker against the wall, standing very close and asking in a threatening tone.

Samuel Parker was momentarily stunned, then seemed to realize something. “Sorry, did I offend you? I spend a lot of time abroad, so I’m not very familiar.”

At that moment, a third person entered the restroom and was startled by the scene: one was Henry Carter’s son Jesse, the other was the famously prickly Edward Bolton.

This newcomer was a staff member, who immediately took out his phone, ready to report to the supervisor. They were recording a show—if a fight broke out, it would be a disaster.

Edward Bolton shot Samuel Parker a couple of fierce looks. With what Samuel Parker had just said, Edward Bolton couldn’t really get angry anymore—otherwise, he’d seem petty, unable to accept that Samuel Parker didn’t know his signature song.

But in reality, Edward Bolton knew full well—no one could claim that every person in the country had heard their song.

What really annoyed Edward Bolton was that he’d been fooled twice by Samuel Parker’s attitude and good looks. He’d imagined all sorts of things, but in the end, Samuel Parker was just calmly dealing with him!

…So frustrating, fooled again.

Edward Bolton grabbed a handful of Samuel Parker’s collar, then stormed out.

“What a temper…” Samuel Parker checked his collar—he’d be going on stage soon, so it absolutely couldn’t be wrinkled.

The staff member was still frozen at the door, not knowing what had just happened. He’d thought Samuel Parker and Edward Bolton were about to fight—was it because of the online mockery?

…

Samuel Parker didn’t mention that little episode to Henry Carter or James Scott when he got back. He dampened the spot on his collar, then dried it off, making sure there wasn’t a single wrinkle.