Chapter 112: Strength Creates Miracles

In Bai Xiwei’s opinion, with Tang Zhichu’s talent, everything he deserved would come to him in time—there was simply no need to take such an approach.

Take the earlier dinner, for example: apart from Yun Miao, everyone else had some degree of distance or unease with Tang Zhichu. Writing a song in half a day was certainly impressive, but it also placed immense pressure on the other songwriters. Even if they thought Tang Zhichu was a decent person, it was hard not to harbor some resentment under that kind of strain.

Just look at He Shuyuan—he’d refused to eat when invited earlier, and wasn’t that precisely because of the pressure Tang Zhichu exerted?

“Oh? So you think our friendship is shallow?” Tang Zhichu said with a laugh.

Bai Xiwei turned her head and cast him a rare eye-roll. “Strictly speaking, this is the first proper conversation we’ve had alone.”

Tang Zhichu laughed heartily and didn’t reply.

“I’m serious. Think it over yourself. This industry is complicated. You never know when someone might scheme against you.”

Tang Zhichu nodded. He understood Bai Xiwei meant well by giving him this advice.

He looked ahead and said earnestly, “Thank you, Sister Wei. But there’s no such thing as a perfect solution in this world. Anyone can play by the rules; retreating is always the easiest choice. What’s difficult is taking a step forward. Honestly, after this show, I won’t have much contact with these people, so I have to consider what I need to consider. For example, you all might worry—if the show isn’t exciting, wouldn’t the initiator lose face? That’s already outside the realm of creation.”

Bai Xiwei was momentarily stunned by his words and even paused in her steps.

Tang Zhichu stopped as well, adding, “Sister Wei, let me say something in return. Just don’t blame me for speaking too frankly when we don’t know each other well yet.”

Bai Xiwei couldn’t help but laugh—what a careful soul he was.

But this time, her gaze upon Tang Zhichu was different.

So, he no longer saw himself as just an alliance member.

In truth, Bai Xiwei’s earlier comment was correct: speaking frankly with someone you barely know is a risk. Yet, it also meant Tang Zhichu was even more extraordinary—his vision reached far beyond what most could see.

She changed the subject. “Now I understand. I finally get why Teacher Liu Xingyun, even in defeat, spoke so highly of you.”

“Teacher Liu commented on me?”

“Yes, we talked privately. And now I’m a little regretful.”

“Regretful about what?”

Bai Xiwei started walking again and, after a few steps, said, “Regretful that I didn’t try to recruit you back then.”

“Thank you. I’ll be sure to relay your words to Teacher Guo Jinglong.”

Bai Xiwei gave Tang Zhichu a sharp look.

With a grin, Tang Zhichu changed the subject. “Take care, Sister Wei. I’m home now.”

...

The morning of the twenty-second.

After finishing his makeup, Tang Zhichu returned backstage. He was in no rush today; Wildfire Alliance already had the highest score.

This time, Tang Zhichu was the closing act.

Through the screen, he could see the musicians from the Sunflower Alliance already on stage.

Bai Xiwei stood throughout, looking even more nervous than her own team members.

Forbidden Love was an online drama yet to be released, self-produced by Penguin Video, just like “Sickly Love.” It told the story of a middle-aged couple whose marriage was in shambles. The female lead was a teacher who had no children—or rather, was unable to conceive. Each time, she had to take ovulation injections, while juggling her career and caring for her husband’s paralyzed father.

For various reasons, her husband was utterly indifferent to her and had an affair, even having a child with another woman. After his father passed away, he brazenly brought his mistress and the illegitimate child home.

In these circumstances, the female lead slowly developed feelings for a student who genuinely cared for her.

There was a twist at the end: the woman had always believed she was the reason they had no children and so endured everything. In fact, it was her husband’s fault. In the end, she did not end up with the student but returned to her hometown—a release with a tinge of regret.

As Tang Zhichu listened to the music, he nodded along. The song performed on stage was quite good, written from the student’s perspective and imbued with a healing tone.

After the song ended, the audience applauded.

Many nodded in appreciation, but that was all—they knew the real challenge was He Shuyuan.

Bai Xiwei remained standing, arms crossed, eyes glued to the giant screen.

He Shuyuan took the stage.

Bai Xiwei was well aware of the quality of their own song—she’d even helped with the arrangement—but having seen He Shuyuan’s rehearsal, she knew it would be a tough fight.

With his reputation, He Shuyuan was indeed formidable.

“Forbidden”

Lyrics: He Shuyuan

Music: He Shuyuan & Sun Zhe

The intro was just piano—urgent at first, then gradually smoothing out.

This was He Shuyuan’s signature style: melody first, crescendo later.

He wasn’t tall and seemed gentle and unassuming offstage, but on stage, he commanded attention.

He wore a bright red jacket that stood out, but it didn’t look out of place—he could pull it off.

The audience’s reaction to He Shuyuan was strong; applause erupted again and again.

Not for lack of words or understanding,
But because pain surged quietly within.
A heart riddled with holes, enough to freeze the throat...

His perspective was from the female lead, conveying the tempest raging within her soul.

The camera panned over the project team—some were nodding along.

After I’m shattered once more,
The feeling of being broken.
After I escape once more,
The feeling of release.
Silently savoring,
Even if it’s only
A fleeting moment of freedom...

Backstage, Bai Xiwei couldn’t help but raise her brows—this was quintessential He Shuyuan, as his chorus exploded with power.

In the final line, He Shuyuan unleashed his signature high note.

“Another powerhouse song! That must’ve hit D5, right?”

“Exactly. You have to admit, this is the edge of a true singer. Even if we write a powerful melody, we can’t deliver it like that.”

There was quiet conversation—He Shuyuan was always a point of contention.

Besides pop music, he also dabbled in experimental, avant-garde genres. Some joked that for every good song he released, he’d reward himself with a “crazy” one.

What did industry insiders think? He was willful, sure—but when you can sing and write and lack for nothing, why not be a little capricious?

Controversial as he was, few dared challenge He Shuyuan. His stage presence was simply too commanding.

The song’s theme was about someone who’d been repressed for too long, finally escaping for a moment and daring to touch the forbidden.

Those relentless high notes whipped the audience into a frenzy; by the end, many were on their feet.

Bai Xiwei subconsciously glanced at Tang Zhichu—what would happen if you went up against him?

Their eyes didn’t meet, but Bai Xiwei exchanged a look with Shen Jianxin.

Shen Jianxin shrugged, giving Bai Xiwei a look she understood.

In their view, the song wasn’t really suitable as the show’s main theme—it was too overpowering. Fans of the drama might even find it jarring.

But for a live performance, it was perfectly suited—like a forceful blow that swept aside all competition.

It was as if he forcibly turned the project team’s heads and sang them into submission, with an attitude that said, “Are you going to pick me or not?”

No one else could get away with this.

When the song ended, the project team was completely won over—smiles lit up their faces, and they even stood up.

For the other musicians, this was the most despairing moment.

Sheer force creates miracles—this was He Shuyuan’s trump card. Unless you could outsing him and force the project team to acknowledge you, claiming you were even more powerful and fierce.