Chapter 192 – 152: Numb, You’re Saying This is a Newbie Songwriter?
In the darkness of the audience seats.
At thirty-five, Shen Qiu considered himself not an emotional person but rely a pure music enthusiast.
When he listened to songs, he wasn’t influenced by sentint, but instead, he could calmly analyze the singer’s performance. What he always adhered to was… listening to songs rationally, acting as a professional judge.
This included when he was invited by the program team to beco an evaluating audience mber. He believed the sa: not to indulge excessively in emotional empathy, but to vote based solely on the live performance of the singer.
Out of the first seven singers who perford, he only voted for the veterans Hou Xueheng and Wen Shuanghua. Both were powerful in strength, with Wen Shuanghua being full-figured and having steady breath support.
In comparison, Yu Zhongyi’s stubborn acoustic guitar singing was too self-absorbed. It didn’t bring any auditory pleasure but instead was tainted with the flavor of an artistic youth.
The more he listened, the worse it got, infuriating him. This stage was for pure vocal competition, not “Shaguo’s Best Stage.” Who was this affected and pretentious performance ant to impress?
It wasn’t that he loved to criticize, but nowadays so singers’ acting skills truly were not as good as Zhuhai’s technicians.
He listened and listened and listened until, finally, he endured until the last act.
He disliked listening to idol singers Jiang Jingsheng and Qi Yingying sing, feeling it was completely a mockery of music, considering they were just average singers.
Yet they had ended up on such a professional stage, competing with top singers, but still managed to advance round after round based on their popularity, which was truly ironic.
But what could he do if the audience liked them? He couldn’t simply deny other people’s preferences.
After sitting for an hour straight, Shen Qiu was actually getting impatient. Now that he had barely made it to the end, there was only the suspense of the challenger left hanging.
When Lin Wanzhou ca out, Shen Qiu was actually a bit disappointed.
The works presented by young singers almost always lacked rit—one Jiang Jingsheng and Qi Yingying were enough to make him feel nauseated, and now another representative of the new generation had appeared.
If he hadn’t heard Lin Wanzhou’s song “What I Miss,” he would have almost wanted to curse.
Looking at the innocent appearance of Lin Wanzhou on stage, Shen Qiu’s frown grew even deeper as he inwardly criticized the unnecessary embellishnts. This program was truly turning into Shaguo’s Big Stage, welcoming any act.
What happened to returning to the basics, to speaking with singing?
The boorang never goes out of style.
The lodious prelude slowly started, dissolving Shen Qiu’s doubts. Bit by bit, as he listened, Lin Wanzhou’s ethereal voice unknowingly captivated him.
His restless heart gradually cald down with the sad music, and he slowly closed his eyes, intending to critically analyze Lin Wanzhou’s vocal abilities bit by bit.
Emotion by emotion, he was drawn in by the singing—the song was good, the lyrics were good, and Lin Wanzhou sang well too.
The emotions were genuine, full of a strong contagion. To interpret a song, the singer must imrse themselves in the emotions so that the listeners can follow suit and imrse as well.
Lin Wanzhou achieved this, particularly with the line “If we et again, we shouldn’t blush and shy away….” which completely released all the pent-up emotions of the earlier part and then towards the end of the song.
In the line “We must owe each other, otherwise, what mories can we call upon,” she pulled the surging emotions back in an instant, turning the regret sharply downwards, like a midnight breeze pouring into the chest.
On one side, there was a reunion like a scene from a movie, and on the other, there was a sober sense of loss regarding reality. As if to say, we shouldn’t co out unscathed; we should owe sothing to each other.
Listening up to here, Shen Qiu didn’t actually feel much; most of his attention was still on Lin Wanzhou’s vocal technique. Emotion: full marks, mixed voice, and light mixed voice control quite acceptable.
Concerning the layering in the song, the thoughts were there, without substantial problems. In terms of ability, she could effortlessly maneuver through various vocal runs between A4-F5; her technical skills could be considered excellent.
Intonation, rhythm, and vocal passages were all fine; overall, the performance was not bad, and emotions could add quite a few points.
But midway through the song, the sudden interlude with a weather forecast and the sound of rain white noise startled Shen Qiu, giving him the impression of the world around him suddenly darkening.
In that instant, the venue fell silent, leaving only the lody and the pitter-patter of the background sound.
The live sound effects from the program team were too realistic, not just for him, but for the whole audience, seemingly pulling everyone into a film scene, the earthy sll of post-rain wafting in their noses.
He almost thought back in an electrified way to a normal evening.
Driving ho, bored while waiting for the traffic lights. Staring ahead through the rain mist, he suddenly, out of nowhere, rembered the aning behind a sentence left to him years ago by soone in a classmates’ record book.
He ca to the belated realization that what she ant was probably fondness.
And by that ti, he had almost lived half of his life.
Back then, it was raining outside the car window, with red taillights everywhere. The female voice on the car radio was giving a weather forecast, “The Central teorological Observatory predicts that starting tomorrow, a strong cold front…”
It’s hard to describe the feeling at that mont, with dryness on the tongue and a sudden chill in the hands and feet.
Now, listening to this scene again, accompanied by the lyrics and lody of “In A Hurry That Year,” he nearly trembled as he deeply inhaled. He pressed down on his thoughts over and over, barely managing to maintain his composure.
It wasn’t just Shen Qiu whose emotions were stirred, the audience in the venue felt it too, as if they were collectively watching an epic movie about youth. The protagonist was themselves, with a storyline that seed slightly dull.
They rembered many years ago, the first thing after waking up each day was to check the weather in a distant place. It was pouring outside the window, they’d put on a coat, walk to the window, and listen to the TV broadcasting news of the cold air moving south.
Lost in a daze, it seed like they once truly loved soone.
In the blurry old footage, when the focus landed on soone, they appeared strikingly beautiful. Even after many years, they could still clearly rember her face.
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