Performance

The live-stream audience was just as lively.

[Wuwuwuwu, I’m so moved. It’s been so many years since I last saw sis sing on stage]

[I thought I’d never get another chance to wait for her to join a show]

[Even if it’s not some huge competition, I’m already satisfied]

Mo Lei picked up the microphone and looked at the woman standing at center stage with a smile. “Still as sharp as ever, Changgeng. Long time no see.”

Nan Changgeng curled her lips slightly and nodded. “Long time no see.”

“Huh? You two know each other?” Zhang Ling asked in surprise.

“Yes. We used to be in the same symphony orchestra; I was the violinist, and she was the cellist,” Mo Lei explained, also introducing her to the audience. “Back then, Changgeng was the youngest in our group, not even an adult yet, but she had the strongest fundamentals. She never made a mistake in all those performances.”

Her background was easy to find online.

Nan Changgeng, thirty-four years old, from the Red Nation, a mixed-race woman with one-quarter Northern Frontier blood.

She had studied music theory and cello since childhood, joined a symphony orchestra in her teens, gone abroad for university, then returned to the country. During college, she left the orchestra because she was too busy. At twenty-two, she rose to fame after joining a domestic music variety show, and two years later she founded her own studio.

Then, at twenty-six, she suddenly began cutting back on public activities. After that, aside from releasing songs, she was almost impossible to find.

“And now... things have changed so much,” Mo Lei sighed. Then she smiled and asked, “How is it? Haven’t been on stage in so many years; nervous?”

Nan Changgeng smiled. “I was a little tense at first, but once the music started, I stopped feeling that way.”

After the actual performance ended, she returned to her reserved state. The countless cameras and spotlights made her rather uncomfortable.

Xin Heng had debuted overseas and had lived abroad for a long time. “I don’t know Nan Changgeng very well, but I’ve heard a little. I’m curious; why did you later choose to step behind the scenes?”

“Mm... because of some special family-related reasons. It’s not very convenient to go into detail.” Nan Changgeng lowered her eyes, and a faint bitterness briefly surfaced at the corner of her lips.

He said he understood. “All right.”

Zhao Xuan glanced at the cameras, leaned back in his chair, and spoke as if he were reminiscing. “Back in the day, Sister Nan was extremely popular.”

“But let me be honest: if it weren’t for that scandal that broke some time ago, I’m afraid hardly anyone would still remember you now, right?”

The atmosphere froze instantly.

Even with cameras practically pressed to their faces, several mentors still failed to keep their expressions in check.

The contestants, on the other hand, had no such restraint. Their jaws dropped one after another. Some covered their mouths and muttered quietly, “He really dares to say that...”

Yu Mao’s eyelashes trembled. Slowly turning her head, she stared fixedly at Zhao Xuan, her eyes black and empty.

[Damn... that’s kind of creepy]

[This girl is really weird. I’m out]

Mo Lei grabbed the microphone, hurriedly trying to smooth things over.

But Nan Changgeng remained very calm, as if she didn’t feel the other man’s targeting at all. She replied, “No. There have always been fans accompanying me.”

Zhao Xuan lifted a mocking smile and pressed further. “So you came to this show for your fans?”

The comment stream in the main livestream suddenly sped up:

[Here it comes, here it comes, finally. I said a recording this peaceful didn’t fit the tone of this kind of show; turns out they were saving the big one for here]

[Here to make money, what’s so hard to understand?]

[Making money with her own ability isn’t shameful. She’s also a victim who was deceived by Wen Yi, and she still has to pay back the debt for him. She’s already this miserable; where are you getting so much malice from?]

[Seriously, I’m sick of people trying to clear this up. The police already said it had nothing to do with her, so when will you stop?]

[She just looks clean on the surface. She was so close to Wen Yi; who knows whether she was involved in the fraud? Maybe she was an accomplice too—one went in, and the other used the chance to make another grab for money]

[Fine, you’re all more powerful than the police, then. The police didn’t find her involved, but one sentence from you convicts her]

[So what if she was involved? Those people had it coming anyway. I even think Wen Yi’s sentence was too light]

[What do you mean so close? Wen Yi was her agent. Why are you making it sound like he was her family?]

[Can’t take this anymore. Can you stop targeting her already?]

[I was a fan who turned black, just here to laugh at Nan Changgeng. She disappeared without saying a word back then. What’s wrong with fans like you?]

...

The arguments in the livestream grew fiercer, and the popularity kept climbing.

Through their earpieces, the production team praised Zhao Xuan:

“Good job.”

Nan Changgeng stayed silent for a rather long time. Zhao Xuan’s smile became more and more obvious.

After a moment, she took a deep breath. “I came here not because of my fans, but since I have this platform, I also want to say something to them.”

“Back then...”

Her ending note trembled ever so slightly. A flash of crystal shimmered in her gray-blue eyes and vanished in an instant. Nan Changgeng frowned, swallowed hard, and blinked forcefully, suppressing every sign of losing control. Only the pale, thin skin of her eyelids, already tinged red, made the strain obvious.

Then she spoke again as if nothing had happened:

“Back then, some things happened that I still find hard to talk about. Maybe if I have the chance later, I’ll be willing to say them out loud.

“It was my own lack of ability; I couldn’t handle many things, so I had no choice but to run away. That was, without a doubt, a very irresponsible thing to do, and I let everyone’s trust in me down.”

She looked straight at the little flying camera hovering in front of her and gave a very faint smile. “I know you’ve all definitely been there.”

“I’m sorry.” She stepped back half a pace and bowed deeply. “Thank you for still not leaving.”

The people who hated her were still questioning and cursing in the comments, but that no longer affected the fans’ complicated, emotional mood.

[Wuwuwuwu, I’m sobbing]

[What exactly happened... Sis looks like she’s about to cry]

[No matter what, it’s good that she’s back]

The stiff atmosphere began to loosen and flow again.

The contestants weren’t as deeply moved as the fans, but they still couldn’t avoid being affected a little; their eyes stung faintly.

Yu Mao kept swallowing, her right hand gripping tightly around the white wrist guard on her left wrist. In order to keep the tears from spilling out, she widened her eyes as much as she could.

She didn’t seem capable of making many expressions, but there was a great deal of indescribable emotion hidden in her eyes.

Zhao Xuan wasn’t very satisfied with this outcome and seemed ready to say something else, but Mo Lei beat him to it.

“So... how many points are the mentors planning to give Nan Changgeng’s performance?”

Smiling, she looked left and right at both sides; when her gaze swept over Zhao Xuan, a trace of impatience subtly showed in her eyes. She raised a finger and tapped her earpiece.

Three seconds later, all five of them held up their score cards at the same time.

Zhang Ling gave a straight hundred and spoke with high recognition. “From the perspective of vocal performance that I’m responsible for, I think you sang impeccably.”

Chen Shuyun and Mo Lei both gave ninety-nine.

Chen Shuyun said tactfully, “I think this was a very wonderful performance. The only thing I feel was slightly lacking is the arrangement; relying only on cello accompaniment felt a little monotonous.”

“I don’t see it that way.”

Mo Lei shook her head with emotion. “I really miss the times when Changgeng used to play and sing on stage. Her voice and the cello blended so well; neither could be missing, and nothing extra could really be added. If this performance had been played on an instrument by you yourself, that would have been perfect. Using recorded accompaniment still lacked a bit of flavor.”

Xin Heng gave ninety-seven points. He explained, “The song is very nice, but in terms of stage presence, maybe adding a little body movement would be better.”

The lowest score came from Zhao Xuan, only ninety. He didn’t offer any convincing explanation, his attitude a little careless. “The singing was fine, but maybe I just don’t really like this style. It’s not to my taste.”

Nan Changgeng curved her lips and made no comment.

This Zhao Xuan had a notoriously bad reputation in the industry. She understood that he was probably only here because the show wanted controversy, so there was no need to take his words to heart.

Mo Lei couldn’t help rolling her eyes discreetly. Then she raised her voice. “So, Nan Changgeng’s total score is 485 points! Congratulations on entering Class A!”

“Thank you.” She bent slightly.

Mo Lei looked at her expectantly. “I hope next time we’ll have a chance to hear your cello solo.”

Nan Changgeng paused slightly. The faint smile on her face faded away, and she lowered her eyes as she gave a muddled reply: “...If possible.”

Mo Lei couldn’t quite figure out what there was not to be possible, and before she could ask further, Nan Changgeng had already turned and walked toward the contestants’ seats.

“Then, the next contestant...”

The mentors scanned the contestants’ seats. Mo Lei looked at the roster and said, “Only one contestant remains unperformed. Yu Mao, please come up on stage.”

Yu Mao watched as Nan Changgeng sat back down, then slowly stood. Her steps were so light she seemed to drift down the stairs like a ghost.

She walked to the spot where Nan Changgeng had just stood.

In order to participate in this program, Yu Mao had prepared very carefully.

She had deliberately chosen her outfit, and dyed her originally yellowing long hair black with painstaking care, letting it fall behind her back until it nearly reached her waist.

It was her first time ever dyeing her hair. It took a very long time, and hair dye had smeared onto her face; the color only faded after several days.

Under the gaze of countless eyes, her expression was calm, as if she had gone blank. She lifted a hand to touch the microphone with her fingertips, then raised her head and leaned closer, wrinkling her nose slightly as she sniffed, chasing the lingering trace of that scent.

“???”

The mentors were baffled.

They sized up the girl in front of them, who seemed a little strange.

The outfit was sweet and cute: a light pink T-shirt sewn with many tiny angel wings, a white lace skirt, and small leather shoes in the same pink shade.

But even the smallest size of that loose T-shirt looked a little baggy on her; her frame was thin to the point of looking somewhat unhealthy.

Her thick black hair was long and heavy, slightly frizzy and puffed up, draped behind her in a way that made her seem even frailer and smaller.

Her features were petite and delicate, with hardly any flesh on her cheeks. Her oval face looked only the size of a palm, with round eyes and an upturned nose. Her eyelids hung half-lowered, and her black gaze was flat and distant, as if she were wandering in another world.

“Um... the microphone can be lowered. Don’t you know how?” Zhang Ling offered a reminder.

The girl’s height matched the microphone stand exactly, so even if the mic was turned downward, she would still have to tilt her face up to sing.

The viewers online were wide awake by now and very interested in Yu Mao.

[Is this kid an adult? Your show is hiring child labor?]

[Can you not be so hurtful? What did being short ever do to you!? (a 155cm girl sobbing)]

[Given that Nan Changgeng is 172cm, the microphone stand reaches the middle of her neck; estimate it, and this girl is probably about 155cm too]

[This person should be my sis’s fan, right? Wait... why is she smelling the microphone? Don’t tell me it’s what I think it is (horrified leaning back)]

[That’s not so perverted, is it? Relying on the fact that my sis is sitting behind her and can’t see?]

The director in the control room, monitoring the live comments, stroked his chin with interest.

Onstage, Yu Mao shook her head, lowered the microphone stand, and finally spoke: “The piece I’m going to sing is ‘Dark Tunnel.’”

In the back, Nan Changgeng looked visibly startled at the words. She lifted her brows slightly, straightened her back, and sat more upright, her expression growing a shade more serious.