Dating sim loading: My girlfriend is a cunning young lady
Chapter 230 - 130. Cultural Festival (3)

Chapter 230: 130. Cultural Festival (3)

"The following is the repertoire of the Wind Instrument Club participating in the brass band competition; next up, we will perform a popular piece."

"First up, the opening theme from ’Demon Slayer,’ ’Red Lotus.’ Many students must have heard this one before, so feel free to sing along!"

Kiyono Lin swung her conducting baton.

"I now know the reason I can become stronger."

"Take me with you, and let’s go forward—"

...

Unlike the traditional music just played, the impassioned tune of "Red Lotus" appealed to a broader audience, and more and more spectators poured into the gymnasium.

The thirty-minute performance time quickly passed, and the Wind Instrument Club orderly exited the stage, to be followed by the Rakugo Department—a solo comedic performance, unexpectedly by several girls.

Watching high school girls with tight skin and lively spirits perform rakugo was quite the sight—without doing anything but standing there looking foolish, they were extraordinarily funny.

By noontime, Jiutiao’s mother was ready to leave.

"I’ll walk you to the door," Jiutiao Meijie stood up and said.

"Aren’t you the executive committee chair? Being away this long is already neglecting your duties. Let Mr. Dubian take me."

Jiutiao Meijie nodded, "That works."

After leaving the gymnasium, Jiutiao Meijie walked towards the building housing the Executive Committee office; Dubian Che accompanied Jiutiao’s mother, passing various vendors towards the Goda school gates.

"Mr. Dubian’s performance has truly opened my eyes."

"I never realized I had such a talent for the oboe; fortunate that Meiji urged me to learn it."

"I hear you’re competing in the national competition?"

"Yes, we are."

"Good luck, I’ll be watching your performance on TV."

"I’ll make sure to surprise you." Dubian Che now vaguely approached the limits of humanity; on the oboe, he was nearly superhuman.

Jiutiao’s mother surveyed the bustling scene around her, her dignified and elegant face showing a faint nostalgia.

People around her stepped aside to make way for the woman walking unhurriedly in her exquisite kimono.

While her wealth wasn’t written on her face, the difference in class was still perceptible through other means.

Under the towering oak at the school gate, Jiutiao’s mother said, "This is far enough."

Dubian Che glanced at the luxury car at the gate, where the driver respectfully stood by with the rear door open.

"Please take care," he said.

Jiutiao’s mother smiled, then suddenly stated, "Mr. Dubian, let me have a few words with you."

"Uh-huh."

"A woman in love can be petty, Meiji is no exception."

"She is indeed a bit more so," Dubian Che laughed, adding his own comment.

Jiutiao’s mother laughed along.

"If she does something over the top, it’s your fault."

"My fault?"

"Yes," Jiutiao’s mother said in a teasing tone as if joking with a child, "No one else bothers her, she doesn’t care what they do, but with you, Mr. Dubian, she minds every little thing you do, only you can make her feel anxious."

Under the lush green leaves of the oak, she continued speaking to the silent and handsome young man, "Please respond to her earnestly, make her feel that you only like her."

"Don’t worry," Dubian Che said softly.

Jiutiao’s mother nodded contentedly, murmuring to herself as if speaking to Dubian Che, "At this age, I’ve come to understand: it’s worth loving the tree that bears fruit more than the one that is merely blossoming."

The car carrying Jiutiao’s mother drove down the slope, slowly disappearing at the crossroads of Shibuya Station; Dubian Che retracted his gaze.

With the Wind Instrument Club’s event over and before Jiutiao Meijie summoned him to do odd jobs for the Executive Committee, he decided to take a good stroll around the school.

There was limited time, so wandering aimlessly was out of the question.

Notably, Dubian Che was not only an avid researcher of women’s legs—limited to females, but also a fashion designer—equally limited to females.

So, it wouldn’t be unusual to take note, during the hustle, to apply to the Executive Committee to allow clubs and classes to wear exotic costumes to school on the day of the Cultural Festival, right?

Let’s start from the third-year classrooms on the lower floors.

Class 3-1, fortune-telling fair, witch costumes.

Influenced by television dramas, Dubian Che preferred the red and white shrine maiden attire, but if absent, black witch’s robes could suffice.

But just because you make do doesn’t mean you can be careless!

With critical eyes, defending the spirit of tradition, Dubian Che handed over one hundred yen and entered Class 3-1.

The classroom was divided into sections by black curtains, with the windows entirely covered, making the inside murky and hard to see. Occasionally, the sound of destiny’s turning pointer could be heard, creating a mysterious atmosphere.

Dubian Che entered an empty cubicle.

A table, two chairs, standard classroom furniture, covered with cloth, though the chairs were sorely out of place.

Never mind the cloth for now, but at least don’t have the witch sitting on a chair that screams, "Goal: Kyoto University!!!"

What kind of witch aspires so low! Manipulating the President of the United States—that’s what you should be up to!

Luckily, the writing was faded, likely not from the current generation—a ’vintage’ at least.

After a bout of internal critique, Dubian Che felt especially professional as he sat down on the chair reserved for guests.

Across the crystal ball-shrouded desk, the witch faced him, her hat’s brim so wide, and the lighting so dim, that he couldn’t make out her face.

As Dubian Che settled in, the witch silently gestured towards the crystal ball, and her wrist, revealed from the wide sleeve, was indeed very attractive.

"Should I put my hand on it?" Dubian Che inquired.

The figure nodded.

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