Chapter 470

Will and Theo, somewhat haphazardly, made it to the finals. Maeve was happy for them and had made their costumes for the competition days in advance, stitch by stitch. Gilbert was recovering well and, with Maeve, arrived early that morning to push him backstage to see Will and Theo. He sat in his wheelchair and asked Damian for assistance. Byron had a prior company commitment; he arrived late, just in time for the opening.

Maeve saw Byron arrive while teaching Gilbert how to vote for Will and Theo using his phone. She casually mentioned, "I've created a group. Check the chat history for voting instructions." Because Will was rebellious and refused to attend school, Byron, who hadn't even attended two parent-teacher conferences, was at a loss.

When Maeve paused, Byron leaned slightly toward her and asked, "How do I do this?" His body emitted a refreshing cedar scent. The pleasant aroma unconsciously drew Maeve closer. She leaned forward to look at his phone. "You do this first, and then…" she explained.

Afterward, Maeve's pinky accidentally touched the bottom of the screen, returning it to the desktop. She saw the dark wallpaper: a picture of herself. The girl with rosy cheeks rested her head on Byron's long legs, clad in black trousers. Her slightly curled hair cascaded down, and her loose nightdress couldn't quite hide her sleepy charm. Maeve was stunned for a few seconds before recognizing herself.

'I actually look like this when I sleep? How…ambiguous,' Maeve thought.

Maeve's cheeks flushed. She pushed the phone away and turned to Byron. "When did you take this photo? How did you get such a shot?" She didn't expect a straight man like Byron to be capable of such a good photograph.

However, Byron rarely took pictures; his phone's photo album was empty. She remembered he used the default wallpaper, seemingly unconcerned with its appearance.

Byron glanced at his phone's wallpaper. His lips curled slightly. "Doesn't it look good?"

Maeve wouldn't say she looked bad. "I thought you didn't like taking photos?"

"I just don't bother," he replied. 'I have countless official matters daily; I haven't time for trivialities. I'd rather review documents,' Byron thought. But photographing Maeve had apparently sparked something. He felt his photo album was too empty and needed more of her pictures. If Maeve checked now, it wouldn't be as empty as before.

Maeve felt conflicted. 'If we ignore our problems, do we look like a couple?' she wondered.

Then it was Theo's turn to perform. Maeve temporarily pushed aside her thoughts and cheered him on. Theo sang a nursery rhyme; although off-key, his clear pronunciation gave it a unique charm. His off-key singing was quite cute.

Maeve excitedly grabbed a cheer stick, shouting, "Go, kiddo!" She distributed banners and palm-sized cheer signs to Gilbert and Byron.

Byron said, "Do I really have to do this childish thing?"

Gilbert, however, happily waved his banner, even enlisting Damian's participation.

Unnoticed, a man in sunglasses sat at the back of the venue, flanked by two bodyguards, each with a high-quality camera trained on the stage.

After Theo, it was Will's turn. Byron, head slightly lowered, asked Maeve, "What song will Will sing?"

Maeve shook her head. "I didn't see him practice. He didn't say. Probably a nursery rhyme, too."

Maeve was stunned. Will, in moon-white traditional clothing, possessed an unexpected grace. He was handsome and cute. He produced a meditation drum, sat cross-legged, and began to play.

The rhythmic sounds formed a soothing melody, calming the venue's atmosphere. Still, it was a meditation drum, however pleasant.

Maeve covered her face. "Why the meditation drum again? Thank goodness he didn't start reciting scriptures; this competition would have become a religious gathering. That scene…" She shuddered at the thought.

'Does Will want to be a little missionary?' she mused.

Byron raised an eyebrow. "That's Meditation Melody. It's practically the same as chanting scriptures."

Maeve looked uncertain, then noticed the judges hadn't stopped Will as before. "Will didn't sing. Is that against the rules?"

"Not really. It's the Star of Children Talent Competition; it's not limited to singing," Byron explained quietly.

Maeve looked at the banner above the stage; he was right. Will's performance was perfectly acceptable. In fact, his drumming was so calming, the venue fell silent. Maeve, feeling self-conscious, could only wave her banner frantically.

Gale, sitting at the back, nearly fell asleep to the sound of the drum. Only when his bodyguard reminded him it was time to vote did he rouse himself. "Have you voted?" Gale asked, taking out his phone. "Don't make a mistake. Vote for numbers thirteen and fourteen."

"Of course, sir. We already voted for them," the bodyguard replied.

Gale nodded, then sent the voting link to several group chats.

West Region's First Wild Wolf Battalion: [Received.] District 11 Safety Defense: [Received.] Third Marine Training Camp: [Received.] Loving Military Compound: [Gale has finally gone crazy?]

The replies, filling an entire screen, were uniformly brief and formal. The small group chats, however, presented a different picture.

Wild Wolves Roar Group: [Mr. Soar…is a little scary. He never tweets, rarely sends messages except for work. Now he's repeatedly canvassing votes for others. I don't remember Mr. Soar having a child.] [I'm dying. What the hell is the Star of Children Talent Competition? It's a mismatch for our boss and kids.] [Is this misappropriation of public resources? We iron-blooded men are being used as a merciless voting machine.] [Yes! I support a one-on-one fight against Mr. Soar on our behalf.] [Spit! Do you want to die?]