Lu Zhixian's finger still hovered over the flight payment page.

"We hope you can participate in this year's Spring Festival Gala performance."

This sentence played through his mind once more.

He wasn't excited, nor did he take it for granted.

He just felt... a bit surprised.

"Director Fang, if I may ask,"

Lu Zhixian spoke, his tone very calm.

"How did you find my contact information?"

The person on the other end of the line chuckled.

"Teacher Lu, to be honest, your contact information was not easy to find. We first contacted People Magazine, but we didn't get it."

"Later, through the channels of the Huawen Literary Award organizing committee, we managed to contact your manager, Mr. Zhao, but Mr. Zhao said he needed your personal consent before giving out the number."

"Finally, we got this mobile number through the music platform you signed with. The whole process took about four days."

Four days.

Lu Zhixian had a rough idea now.

"Director Fang, may I ask, when did the director team start considering inviting me?"

"After 'nocturne' was released, someone in the team mentioned your name. But the final decision was made after seeing that interview in People."

Director Fang paused, his tone becoming more sincere.

"Teacher Lu, let me be honest with you. When the director team discussed you, it was a unanimous decision. This situation... is not common."

Lu Zhixian didn't speak.

"I know this invitation comes very suddenly, you don't have to give an answer right now. We completely understand."

"Hmm," Lu Zhixian said. "I need to think about it."

"Of course, of course. I'll leave you my mobile number and office landline, feel free to contact me anytime."

Lu Zhixian picked up the pen next to him and wrote the number on a sticky note on the table.

"Director Fang, thank you."

"Looking forward to your reply, Teacher Lu."

The call ended.

Lu Zhixian placed his phone on his knees and leaned back against the chair.

Outside the balcony, the sky had already darkened a bit.

He looked down at his phone screen.

The flight payment page was still lit up, with fourteen minutes remaining on the countdown.

Spring Festival Gala.

In his past life, he had watched the Spring Festival Gala for over twenty years.

Back then, he never imagined that one day he would stand on that stage.

He hadn't imagined it in this life either.

Lu Zhixian sat on the balcony without moving.

The evening breeze crept in through the crack in the window, feeling a bit chilly.

He thought for about three minutes, picked up his phone, and dialed Old Zhao's number.

It was answered after one ring.

"What's wrong? Is there a problem with the flight?"

Old Zhao asked.

"The flight is fine. I have something to tell you."

"Go ahead."

"I just received a call from an 010 landline."

"010?" Old Zhao's voice paused noticeably. "Who called?"

"The Spring Festival Gala director team."

The other end of the line went quiet.

"What?!"

Old Zhao's voice exploded, the volume so loud that Lu Zhixian reflexively moved the phone two centimeters away from his ear.

"You said the Spring Festival Gala?!"

"Yes, that Spring Festival Gala."

Old Zhao's speaking speed skyrocketed to a level Lu Zhixian had never heard before, almost without taking a breath.

"Calm down."

"I can't calm down!"

Old Zhao's voice was trembling.

"Lu Zhixian, do you know what this concept is? The Spring Festival Gala! The Spring Festival Gala! Some People pull strings for ten years and still can't get on it!"

"Hmm, he said the director team passed it unanimously."

A dull thud came from the other end of the line.

"What are you doing?"

Lu Zhixian asked.

"I almost fell off my chair just now."

Old Zhao panted heavily.

"Wait, you said unanimously?"

"Yes."

"Unanimously..."

Old Zhao repeated these four words, his voice going out of tune.

"My god, do you know the weight of this?"

"I'm not exactly a newcomer anymore."

"Compared to the People on that stage, you are a newcomer!"

Old Zhao took a deep breath, trying hard to steady his voice.

"How did you reply?"

"I said I'd think about it."

"..."

Old Zhao went silent again.

"Brother Zhao?"

"I'm digesting it."

Old Zhao's voice sounded like he was suppressing something.

"You just told the Spring Festival Gala director team... you'd think about it?"

"Yeah, if I agree without thinking, it wouldn't seem very significant."

"Fine, everything you say is right."

Old Zhao had given up arguing with him.

"So how is your thinking going now?"

"Still thinking."

"What exactly are you thinking about? What is there to think about?"

Lu Zhixian chuckled.

"Didn't you tell me to calm down?"

"That was for you to calm down after agreeing! Not for you to calm down before agreeing! Can these two 'calming downs' be the same?"

"Alright, alright," Lu Zhixian said. "I have a plan. This call is just to let you know, don't tell anyone yet."

"Who would I tell? My hands are shaking right now, I can't even type."

Lu Zhixian hung up.

He looked at the number on the sticky note and didn't call back immediately.

He dialed the home landline first.

This time it was answered after five rings.

"Hello?"

"Dad, it's me again."

"What's wrong? Didn't we agree you were coming back the day after tomorrow? Did the flight change?"

"No change. I have something to tell you."

"What is it?"

"Someone called me just now, from the Spring Festival Gala director team. They said they are inviting me to the Spring Festival Gala this year."

The other end of the line went silent.

Lu Zhixian waited for a while.

"Dad?"

"Say that again."

"The Spring Festival Gala director team is inviting me to participate in this year's Spring Festival Gala."

"Which Spring Festival Gala?"

"There is only one Spring Festival Gala, Dad."

"The CCTV one? The one on New Year's Eve? The one the whole country watches?"

"Yes."

Hurried footsteps came from the other end, followed by Lu Jianguo's shouting.

"Old Song! Old Song, come here! Come quickly!"

"What are you shouting for?"

"Zhixian! Zhixian said the Spring Festival Gala is looking for him!"

"What?"

"The Spring Festival Gala!"

There was some commotion on the other end.

Lu Jianguo brought the phone back to his mouth, his voice completely different from before.

"Zhixian, you... you aren't joking with Dad, are you?"

"No."

"Really?"

"Really, I just hung up the phone."

Lu Jianguo stopped speaking.

After several seconds, he spoke again. His voice was a bit muffled, like a different person from his usual loud self.

"The Spring Festival Gala..."

He repeated it.

"That is the Spring Festival Gala."

Lu Zhixian heard his dad sniffle.

"Dad, are you..."

"I'm not crying!" Lu Jianguo immediately denied, his voice rising again. "I'm just a bit excited. Don't tell your mom I cried."

"Isn't Mom standing right next to you?"

"..."

The phone was taken.

"Zhixian." Song Min's voice was still very calm.

"Mom."

"I heard."

She didn't ask for details, nor did she repeat "The Spring Festival Gala" three times like Lu Jianguo.

After a silence, she said.

"You decide for yourself. Mom supports you."

"Hmm."

"Regardless of whether you go or not, remember to come back the day after tomorrow. I've already asked your dad to buy pork ribs."

"Okay."

"Then I'll hang up now."

"Okay, Mom."

Before the call hung up, Lu Zhixian heard a very soft voice from the other end.

It was his mom's.

She was talking to his dad, probably thinking the call had already ended, or was far enough from the microphone.

But Lu Zhixian heard it very clearly.

"Our son is going to be on the Spring Festival Gala."

The voice was soft.

Lu Zhixian held his phone, sitting on the balcony, watching the sky turn completely dark.

He began to think about this matter seriously.

The significance of the Spring Festival Gala didn't need anyone to explain it to him.

Over a billion viewers, New Year's Eve, those few hours when the whole country sits in front of the TV.

If he were to go on that stage, he had to bring something worthy of that stage.

Not to be a guest, not to just show his face.

It was to make the whole country remember that on that year's Spring Festival Gala, there was a song.

Lu Zhixian picked up the sticky note and looked at the number on it.

He dialed it.

After two rings, it was connected.

"Teacher Lu?" Director Fang's voice carried a hint of surprise, obviously not expecting it so soon.

"Director Fang, I've thought it over."

"Please go ahead."

"I accept the invitation."

The other end of the line clearly let out a sigh of relief.

"Teacher Lu. We will send a formal invitation letter as soon as possible, and arrange for someone to coordinate performance details with you, including the song list, stage plan, and rehearsal times, all of which will be communicated with you in advance."

"Okay."

"Then I won't disturb you further, we'll keep in touch."

"Hmm, goodbye Director Fang."

He hung up.

Lu Zhixian opened WeChat and sent a message to Old Zhao.

"Accepted."

Three seconds later, Old Zhao's reply popped up.

"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Three whole lines of exclamation marks.

Lu Zhixian looked at the screen and chuckled, not replying.

Lu Zhixian put his phone aside, stood up, walked to the kitchen, and poured a glass of water.

He took a sip, leaned against the kitchen door frame, and a thought suddenly popped into his mind.

He put down the water glass, picked up his phone again, flipped to the call history with Director Fang, and took a look.

Spring Festival Gala. New Year's Eve. National audience.

What should he sing?

What does the Spring Festival Gala need?