Chapter 128: He Shuyuan’s Stage

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At nine o’clock in the evening on the twenty-sixth, Tang Zhichu stepped out of the recording and rehearsal building. He had just gone through several rounds of rehearsal with little trouble. This time, Tang Zhichu pulled a surprise again: recording songs in the morning and starting rehearsals by dusk. The occasional croak of frogs and the chirping of insects, coupled with the satisfaction of having just finished work, left Tang Zhichu feeling quite content. It also somewhat filled the void left by Zhou Yun’s departure.

To be honest, he was a bit tired. On the surface, it appeared that Tang Zhichu was still boldly defending his role in the program. But in reality, there were too many considerations, too many things to balance.

He hadn’t gone far when he suddenly heard a sound behind him. Turning around, he saw Bai Xiwei. Tang Zhichu stopped and waited for her to catch up. Surprisingly, Bai Xiwei jogged over like a little girl.

“I finally understand why you always like to start working on songs from day one. It’s so thrilling!” Bai Xiwei laughed before even reaching him.

That morning, most musicians had gathered in the creative building. Except for the Stellar Alliance, the other three groups were widely recognized as the strongest. Many had come to learn, curious to see if Tang Zhichu could still be the first to record a song today. Everyone knew the theme this time was set by the Vanguard Alliance themselves.

As soon as Tang Zhichu went upstairs, the notification for the first recording studio opening sounded immediately, giving many goosebumps. Soon after, the second studio’s notification followed—someone was recording right after him.

Upon going upstairs, only two studios were empty. Both Tang Zhichu and Bai Xiwei recorded on the first day. In fact, Bai Xiwei had been waiting for Tang Zhichu. She had already prepared demos for her chosen project but felt it unfair to record before him since he had been passively participating for four consecutive episodes while she had only volunteered for one and was the first to record this time. It felt awkward.

So she waited until Tang Zhichu entered the studio before going into the adjacent one.

“Xiwei, you finished rehearsing as well?” Tang Zhichu asked casually, which instantly froze Bai Xiwei’s smile.

After a moment, she confirmed, “You even finished rehearsing?”

“Mm.”

“Me! You—”

Suddenly recalling a remark from a reality dating show participant named Yang Jiaxing, Bai Xiwei felt despair. But then, thinking it over, she brightened up and said, “Well, rehearsals are just rehearsals. If it tires you out, so be it.”

They walked side by side.

By late June, the weather had warmed, and Bai Xiwei had started wearing dresses. She initially thought that no one could avoid the program’s demands in the end and that it was pointless to refuse participation just to maintain appearances. But after seeing Tang Zhichu alone many times—either lying on the grass or strolling—and considering rumors from the dating show, Bai Xiwei suspected he was plotting something major.

Such a Tang Zhichu wouldn’t really care about jokes about not choosing the Sunflower project. Obviously not.

Bai Xiwei felt Tang Zhichu’s natural aptitude for show business far surpassed her own.

“What if you lose this round?” Bai Xiwei asked curiously.

“Do you think I’ll lose or win?” Tang Zhichu countered.

Bai Xiwei thought for a moment, then shook her head. She truly didn’t know.

On the surface, Tang Zhichu seemed unlikely to win this time, but he was Tang Zhichu—nothing was certain.

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“What if you intentionally lose?”

“Am I crazy? Why would I deliberately lose?”

Bai Xiwei smiled awkwardly. “That’s also a possibility. After all, your losing could be a big highlight. If it were me, I’d lose once, write a song that’s not suitable for competition but great for spreading. Competition songs get tiresome after two or three listens, and their audience is limited. But a song that spreads by word of mouth can turn things around later. Even if you lose, you haven’t really lost.”

Tang Zhichu glanced at Bai Xiwei in surprise. That was practically an open suggestion.

“Right? You could take a step back to advance. At least you can cash in a bit first. The rest is up to the audience’s own reaction. Who can control that?”

Tang Zhichu gave a thumbs-up and laughed, “Xiwei, you’re awesome!”

Bai Xiwei rolled her eyes. “Don’t swear.”

“That’s not a swear word, at most an exclamation.”

“That depends on your public image. If you’re popular, it’s fine. If not, it’s a problem.”

Overall, Bai Xiwei looked at Tang Zhichu like a younger brother and couldn’t help but admonish him.

Tang Zhichu didn’t object and nodded.

After a pause, he suddenly asked, “Xiwei, are you running your own studio now?”

Bai Xiwei nodded. “Yeah, why?”

“Nothing, just asking.”

“Hehe, you’re not thinking of signing me, are you? If so, I’ll have your back for sure.”

“We’ll see in the future.”

By early July, Shu Capital experienced a heavy rain, bringing brief coolness that deceived everyone. But on the second, the sun rose brightly.

Above, wisps of thin clouds floated in the deep blue sky, too faint to form solid white shapes, indicating a fine day ahead.

Su Yuanchao arrived at the venue half an hour earlier than the audience. Though still part of the arts scene, he had mingled in the corporate world for years, appearing in several top entertainment companies before finally settling at Yi Yun’s.

Attentive observers might notice Su Yuanchao leaving Yu Hua’s office before going on stage.

After Tang Zhichu finished makeup, he didn’t return backstage.

The previous night, during the auction for performance order, the Wildfire Alliance and Vanguard Alliance tactfully refrained from bidding, choosing to perform first.

In a one-on-one competition, the order barely matters; the stronger will be evident.

Performing first actually reduces pressure.

Once Su Yuanchao’s spot was confirmed, Shen Jianxin used his points advantage to place Tang Zhichu behind He Shuyuan.

This round, Su Yuanchao’s solo was a folk song, so there was no fear of the opponent disrupting the atmosphere. However, the Vanguard Alliance was still wary.

Backstage, everyone sat upright and serious.

The host was going through the formalities, but some were already eager, more excited than the performers themselves.

When Su Yuanchao appeared on stage, many memories they thought dead suddenly revived, some even moved to tears.

Nostalgia is a strange thing, stirring a complex mix of emotions.

Seeing Su Yuanchao alone in the client’s seat, many glanced at the Wildfire Alliance, probably thinking what only they knew.

Su Yuanchao looked good—slightly plump with long hair and a beaming smile.

Given his current look and folk music style, it was hard to imagine his rebellious past.

“The sixth episode of the Original Music Alliance begins its first project stage recording. Please welcome He Shuyuan from Vanguard Alliance!”

As soon as the host finished, applause and cheers erupted.

Sharp female voices called He Shuyuan’s name, amplifying the effect beyond the speakers.

He Shuyuan strode confidently to center stage, lights following his every step.

He wore a T-shirt under a basketball jersey. The host had introduced Su Yuanchao earlier and played video clips.

Except for the youngest viewers, most had heard Su Yuanchao’s songs. Among his few concerts was one where he wore a jersey.

On stage, He Shuyuan exuded confidence. After bowing, he locked eyes with Su Yuanchao for a prolonged moment—a moment worthy of legend.

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He Shuyuan had once discussed music philosophy face-to-face with Su Yuanchao, seeking guidance.

Su Yuanchao believed that to create music with life, one must brew it from ethnic culture. He Shuyuan didn’t fully agree internally but respected the idea.

He felt music should be forward-looking and progressive, needing pioneers.

That was why outsiders joked that for every hit song he wrote, he’d follow with a wild, eccentric piece. He valued atmosphere and arrangement over lyrics, which he saw as constraints.

Standing on stage locked in that gaze, He Shuyuan felt it was a meeting of two eras—a feeling he relished.

The prelude began, and letters appeared on the big screen.

“Feiyana”

Lyrics: He Shuyuan

Composition: He Shuyuan

Backstage, folk music aficionados instantly understood the song title—a symbolic thematic folk song dedicated to a person or thing, open to a hundred interpretations.

Many who tried writing for Su Yuanchao found this the best approach since Su himself had criticized folk music for being overused with themes of poverty, women, and hometown.

Thus, writing for Su Yuanchao requires avoiding those three topics.

Xige sneered quietly, “They really treat him like their golden boy.”

Yun Miao and Shen Jianxin understood. Sun Zhe had spent two days in the studio with He Shuyuan, but all the credits went solely to He Shuyuan—impressive.

Birds hurriedly flying by

White feathers falling from the sky

Just at the moment of looking up

Disappearing into the central street

Whenever I leave

I will savor the sadness

Let the past become your secret

Transform into mottled faith

Feiyana

He Shuyuan sang folk with his most comfortable vocal range. The melody was catchy and smooth, the lyrics solid.

Backstage, some began shaking their heads.

Tang Zhichu’s situation grew difficult.

Clearly, He Shuyuan’s song was excellent—good lyrics, composition, intent, and a gentle atmosphere.

Shen Jianxin frowned, his faint hope slowly shattering, trying to convince himself that losing once was acceptable.

Some began changing their impressions of He Shuyuan, acknowledging his strength despite his brazen style.

The ancient bell no longer rings

The church bell has ceased ringing

Those once loved

Have vanished like smoke

Bloomed and withered

(End of chapter)