Otaku Translation: My Girlfriend Is a Cello Player C141

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Chapter 141: An Interesting Opponent

It was said that on the eve of every major exam, art students would whisper their prayers to the legends who came before them. Painting students might murmur ’s name, hoping the master’s brilliance would guide their brush. Music students would bow their heads to or , seeking strength from those eternal titans.

But ? His silent prayer was for someone quite different.

Not a master of the . Not a prodigy of symphonies.

Instead, he clasped his hands and offered his hopes to a from his previous life.

This idol had no backing from a powerful agency, no glossy debut, no years of rigorous training. Just a lone, nameless "independent trainee" lost in a crowd of shining stars. In a ruthless filled with top-tier contenders from elite companies, that young man had stood alone—unremarkable at first glance, perhaps even laughably outmatched.

And yet, he fought.

One by one, he toppled the so-called elites. With nothing but grit, raw ability, and an almost foolish perseverance, he clawed his way forward until he stood alone at center stage—champion.

In the end, he didn’t just debut. He made history.

He proved that real talent—true fire—needs no gilded cage. It burns through the noise. It finds its own light.

Gold glints when it’s struck by sun. And a basketball thrown by determined hands will always find the hoop.

Lin Tian pressed a palm to his chest in a mock gesture of devotion, lips barely moving as he whispered his makeshift prayer.

A voice broke his silence.

“What are you doing?”

Startled, Lin Tian turned.

Standing just a few paces away was . Morning sunlight poured over her, casting a halo around her neatly tied ponytail. Her expression was calm, a soft curiosity lingering in her eyes.

She wore a crisp white shirt, every button fastened, its simple cut quietly outlining the grace of her frame. The light caught on the fine contours of her cheekbones, her skin luminous beneath the rising sun.

In her hands, she held two cups of .

“I—” Lin Tian stammered.

She offered one of the cups without another word. “Here. It’s still hot.”

He accepted it, though his eyes lingered on her instead of the drink.

“Why are you also wearing a white shirt?” he asked, almost without thinking.

“Is that not allowed?” she teased gently.

“No, I just thought... I thought you’d wear a dress.”

“Too flashy,” she said, a quiet smile forming. “White’s more understated.”

Understated.

The word echoed in his mind as he watched her. She had once been shy, almost invisible—head bowed, footsteps soft, entirely content within her own quiet world. Yet now, standing before him in the light, her presence was radiant.

And still, unmistakably her.

Lin Tian glanced down. He, too, wore a white shirt. Plain, clean.

Together, side by side, they looked like a couple who had deliberately matched.

He took a sip of the soy milk. Warmth bloomed across his tongue—sweet, soft, and comforting.

Then Gan Yanyu pointed ahead.

“Look,” she said. “The first draw’s about to start. Come on!”

Before he could respond, she caught his arm and pulled him forward, her grip surprisingly firm.

Their sudden dash drew attention.

"Whoa, did you see that girl? Is she from our class?"

“That guy’s way too good-looking to be an art student. He looks like he just walked off a magazine cover.”

“Are music students always that cute? I want his …”

“He’s with her though. Gotta be his girlfriend, right?”

The whispers trailed behind them like petals in wind. Neck after neck craned for a better look, but they moved too quickly—mere flashes of white, like light skipping across a pond.

At any art exam, a few striking faces were to be expected. Beauty, after all, often followed those drawn to beauty.

But Lin Tian and Gan Yanyu? They weren’t just beautiful. They looked... unforgettable.

In the shade near the registration hall, a teacher from —’s most prestigious art training institution—watched them pass with a furrowed brow. He couldn’t place them.

That was unusual.

All year, the top training centers exchanged information, tracked potential threats. Students who stood out—in skill or appearance—were never strangers by exam day.

But those two?

He’d never seen them before.

Could they really be untrained walk-ins?

“Maybe they’re from another city,” someone beside him offered.

The teacher turned. The speaker was —tall, long-haired, and sharp-eyed. Chunqiu’s top music candidate and . Some believed he would break scoring records this year.

“That’s possible,” the teacher said slowly. But unease still curled in his chest.

Such strong presence. Who were they?

“Don’t worry,” he muttered. “There are always students who care more about looks than substance. They rarely last.”

Wu Qi smirked. “Still, it’d be nice to meet someone interesting this year. It’s been a while since I’ve had a real challenge.”

Far ahead, oblivious to the eyes on them, Gan Yanyu was studying her exam card.

“My first room is A7, number 9,” she announced.

Lin Tian checked his. “A9, number 10.”

She brightened. “Same floor! That’s lucky.”

“Alright,” he said. “Let’s go to our rooms. We’ll meet up later?”

“Okay.” She nodded, stepping back.

A pause.

“See you later,” she said softly.