As the man’s voice faded, another line of dialogue rang out from the dark screen.

“Xiao Gu, acapella or with accompaniment?”

“Piano. This song is best with just piano.”

“Alright.”

It was a simple back-and-forth, but many viewers found the male voice oddly familiar. They listened carefully—then suddenly realized—it was Xingyao’s unique gentle voice!

So that was the post-credits scene? Was this really Xingyao himself making an appearance?

Sure enough, a rapid montage of unused footage began flashing across the screen. Accompanied by Gu Xingyi’s signature warm vocals, it pushed the emotional floodgates wide open for the audience again.

Damn this guy! Making us cry again—I’m dying here!

And yet, even as the last clip faded away, Xingyao himself never appeared. He remained as mysterious as ever.

But no one minded. These faces, these moments from the video—they were carved deep into everyone’s hearts.

It was something they wouldn’t forget for a long, long time.

For quite a while after the full MV was released, there wasn’t a single like. Not one comment. It was as if the entire viewer base had vanished.

In the Huayin conference room, Lin Guodong was watching the live data feed. He didn’t understand—there were over 100 million people watching at the same time, yet not a single person had clicked like.

Did that mean they didn’t resonate with the video?

Lin Guodong looked a little disheartened. He wiped at the redness around his eyes, unable to accept the silence.

But then—

The data suddenly exploded.

The like count and comments surged like a tidal wave.

Unstoppable.

It was the first time in Douyin history that stats skyrocketed this fast. Within just a few breaths, the likes jumped from 100,000 to 5 million… then to 10 million… then 20 million…

Douyin crashed.

Even so, the tidal wave didn’t stop. Viewers kept hammering the like and comment buttons. What had started as mere curiosity about Huayin’s MV turned into eager anticipation when they saw Xingyao’s name, and now—after watching it—they were completely moved.

Empathy. That was the most honest reaction in everyone's hearts.

The video surged from the bottom of the trending list straight to #1, locking itself into the top spot on Douyin’s trending board. The next five trending topics? All related to Only Ordinary.

Cheers erupted in the Huayin conference room.

Lin Guodong clenched his fist in excitement, watching the numbers climb. So it wasn’t that people weren’t moved—they just needed time to process their feelings.

Half an hour later, the video’s momentum wasn’t just limited to Douyin. It had spread to Weibo too, flooding the trending list with topic after topic related to the MV. Netizens couldn’t stop discussing it.

Then someone noticed that Huayin had just uploaded a pure audio version of Only Ordinary—and it was free to download.

They shared the news in a Weibo post, and instantly, everyone who had watched the MV stormed Huayin’s platform. Ratings. Downloads. Favorites. All at once.

The Only Ordinary storm swept across the internet with a speed even Lin Guodong hadn’t anticipated. He was now beyond grateful that he had chosen Gu Xingyi’s song.

If they’d used any average song for these visuals, there was no way it would have gone this viral.

Within just one hour, the song broke a hundred million plays on Huayin’s platform. On Douyin, the MV surpassed 200 million plays.

Insane numbers.

Now, on every social media platform, the hottest topic was this MV. No matter where you looked, it dominated the top of the charts.

Untouchable.

The entire internet was ablaze with emotional responses. Those faces from the video were etched into everyone’s minds, their hearts left restless with the need to pour out their feelings.

    “They shouldn’t be forgotten. Or hidden. We have to remember what we saw today and carry that spirit forward.”
    “These faces, paired with this song, and sung by those kids—I’m bawling.”
    “They’re someone’s sons and daughters. Some of them are younger than me! But watching them form a bridge with their bodies to cross that river—I lost it.”
    “No halo of divinity—only your ordinariness is what I want!”
    “No regrets in this journey, no regrets in this life! The fire of life has been lit!!!”
    “Let me catch anyone disrespecting them again—I'll slide-tackle them straight into the ground!”
    “Without their sacrifices, we wouldn't have the peace we enjoy. I finally understand that today!”
    “When I grow up, I want to be like them. That kind of person.”
    “Never gone, never forgotten. It’s the silent sacrifices of countless unsung heroes that built our prosperity.”
    “Thank you, Huayin! Thank you, Xingyao! For a work so moving and unforgettable!”
    “Xingyao! I’m your loyal fan for life! I love every song you've made! After hearing your music, I can’t listen to anything else!”
    “I've been a hardcore Xingyao fan from the very first video! I knew it—this guy is different!”
    “Still crying! But... sigh... he still hasn’t shown his face!”
    “Yeah, he didn’t appear. But now I know his name is Gu. Gu Xingyao? Hmm... that sounds like a girl’s name though, doesn’t it?”

The comment section was flooded with praise and heartfelt sentiments. A few brainless trolls tried to sneak in, but were instantly drowned out by the overwhelming wave of love.

Many viewers who had already been Xingyao fans turned into die-hard supporters that day. They felt lucky—blessed, even—to be a fan of someone like him.

That same day, the entire Hua country entertainment industry was shaken. Every entertainment company, every artist who saw the MV silently reposted it.

They were jealous of the attention. But they couldn’t replicate it.

All they could do was try to ride the wave—and slap on a little PR spin while they were at it.

By noon, Gu Xingyi was lying on the sofa, surrounded by two beautiful girls—one big, one small—gently stroking one’s hair and patting the other’s back.

He wanted to say something, but didn’t know how to begin. Because even he had been deeply moved. Even though it was his song, the video itself had been entirely put together by the Huayin production team. He hadn’t previewed the final cut.

And now, he was glad he hadn’t.

Huayin had given his song a perfect home.

Curled up in Gu Xingyi’s arms, Xia Xiyao sobbed softly, clutching the corner of his shirt and smearing her tears and snot all over it. Her pitiful little expression made Gu Xingyi’s heart ache.

It was just a video—sure, it was emotional—but why did she look so heartbroken?

Now Xia Xiyao finally understood what he had been doing those few days away: writing this song, working with Huayin, securing that seemingly impossible contract for her.

She had no idea what he’d gone through. Whether he’d been mistreated, disrespected, or drained in the process of bringing it all to life.

She’d known nothing.

All she did was sit comfortably at home, enjoying the results he brought back. And yet when he returned, he even brought her a bouquet of lavender—a flower that symbolized hope and redemption.

“All right, all right. No more crying, okay? Want some lunch?”

“How about I make something yummy, and you hold Nainai for me?”

Gu Xingyi patted her gently on the back.

The little one had already cried herself to sleep in his arms.

“O-okay... go on then.”

Xia Xiyao wiped the last of her tears off on his shirt again and slipped out of his arms, pouting slightly as she cradled Nainai in her embrace.

Her voice was soft and sweet.