Chapter 205 – 158 “Late Marriage”!! Can it still be played like this live?_2
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“Hmm.”
Pei Muchan pushed open the last door in front of the stage and slowly walked out.
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All the lights in the venue went out, leaving the stage illuminated only by a few dim ambiance lights at the edges. In the faintly glowing scene, particles of dust floated in the air.
A sliver of dim yellow light suddenly hit the stage, moon-yellow and vaguely fluctuating.
In the guest gathering hall, Hou Xueheng crossed his arms in front of his chest, and at the mont he saw the light on the stage, his eyebrows twitched, almost subconsciously recalling “Hurry, That Year.”
The entrance for the weather forecast was truly too impressive, the lody starting again felt almost like having watched an entire movie.
This kind of performance technique similar to stage plays first extrely tests the planner’s aesthetic judgnt. Secondly, the song must have content, high-quality enough to accommodate a story.
Now that the technique reappeared, Hou Xueheng was almost 100% certain, just after seeing that beam of light, that this was exactly the sa thod as yesterday’s.
“Sister Zhou Zhou, this is?” Qi Ting suddenly stood up too, muttering, “You can tell at a glance, it indeed is Teacher Xu’s handiwork.”
“Hmm.” Lin Wanzhou’s eyes flickered, her gaze fixed on the screen, the first ti this afternoon she watched so intently.
When he had said he wanted to do the weather forecast earlier, she was still half-doubtful. Now, she was truly convinced, thinking that other than singing, it seed like he could do anything.
How could he be good at everything?
He even did planning well.
“Wow!” Jiang Jingsheng exclaid uncontrollably, after seeing that beam of crescent moon-yellow light, “It’s like the feeling of driving at night, the street lights flickering over the car windows.”
Layn enjoy the show, experts examine the skill.
Jiang Jingsheng being able to maintain his evergreen status on the stage of “I Am the Song King” as an idol singer was not just due to the volu of his fans, but also other factors.
After countless performances, perhaps it was a case of practice making perfect, and his aesthetic sense had correspondingly improved. Not to ntion being able to replicate it, at least he could tell at a glance that there was an art design involved.
Indeed, with the light and shadow fluctuating, the sound of a train whistle entering the station could be heard from afar.
That little sensation, just one scratch and it surged forth.
The humming sound shattered the rock music’s aftermath left in the audience’s minds from the last act, and with the crescent moon-yellow along with the highly atmospheric feel of the train station platform, set the emotional tone for the entire song.
At that mont, the prelude lody sounded.
Emotions, like ink dropped onto rice paper at this mont, had already diffused.
The clattering sound of the train receded, and suddenly a beam of light hit Pei Muchan on top. A beautiful person with a good figure, where she stood gave an entirely different feel.
The sa song, sung by different people standing there, feels different; a singer’s appearance is sotis also a part of the artistry.
One person less attractive and another beautiful, singing the sa song, it always seems like the more beautiful one sings with more emotion, a bit more plaintive and touching in the voice.
“Love tires the heart, emotion binds the body…”
Like a low murmur, the song echoed on the stage, and the atmosphere on-site was quiet. Everyone hid in the darkness, quietly listening to Pei Muchan’s song.
As if talking to an old friend, sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace at midnight, discussing life’s hardships.
In the guest gathering hall, Wen Shuanghua’s eyes lit up.
“Beautiful!”
Instantly floored, Pei Muchan’s first line was of very high standard, brimming with emotion.
But so were joyful while others were anxious; Guan Fengchen now felt the pressure. Singing so well, how was anyone supposed to live up to that? The very first line suggested a voting score of at least five hundred and eighty points.
And Guan Fengchen only had six hundred and twenty votes, unless Pei Muchan’s performance crashed midway, he could possibly advance to the next round.
“I never wish to live alone, yet I premonition late marriage.”
“I am waiting, for the sole soulmate in the world~”
Once these two lines of lyrics were delivered, all that ca before seed like a prelude. Emotions built up layer by layer, reaching a climax at this mont, giving that goosebump-triggering sensation.
Just like those ancient texts, where Gui Youguang in “The Record of the Hut at the Ridge” wrote about the old attic, the bamboo, the orchid courtyard, the doors, the surrounding walls, the study, the kitchen.
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I wrote about every nook and cranny of the old house, all beaten up with every corner filled with trivial mories, and yet, not a person in sight. Dragging on and on until finally, it ends with a line.
“There’s a loquat tree in the courtyard, planted by my wife the year she died, now it towers like a canopy.”
Just like that sentence in “A Letter of Complaint”, “Without my grandmother, I could not have lived to this day, and without , she could not have finished her years,” each serves as an emotional build-up, the crowning touch that brings the picture to life.
The lines Pei Muchan sang at the beginning were all about love that wounds the body, love that further entraps. Loving soone isn’t necessarily easier than enduring the long, lonely nights alone, struggling to sleep on an empty pillow; it’s better than settling.
In this materialistic society, so people fall in love at first sight, while others wander aimlessly with their luggage on the streets after midnight break-ups.
There are people who have a ho by twenty-two, and those still searching for love at thirty.
Not everyone likes the sa scenery or lives the sa life; everyone should be allowed to be themselves. I had never considered remaining single but had a premonition I would marry late.
Better to lack than to suffer from too much, better than tornting each other.
Waiting, for that one soul in the world that matches mine. The flowers of spring are no more precious than those of sumr; everyone has their season to bloom, and the flower must live up to itself.
You can’t scribble down random answers just because those around you are handing in their papers.
With just a few lines of lyrics, she connected all the images from before. And those final two lines, “I never wanted to be single,” ca as a stunning revelation.
Backstage.
Jiang Jingsheng was stunned; his eyes were lifeless as he gazed at the screen in the assembly hall, his brain buzzing from the shock, just like when he first read a powerful quatrain in high school and got goosebumps.
Coming back from ten thousand miles, long lost friends, the gathered guests’ attire outshining snow.
The feeling that “Marrying Late” gave him was nearly the sa shock he experienced back then, an onslaught of vivid imagery, like pearls strung together.
So, you ca to the competition with a trump card, huh?
Mixed in the song’s lyrics was a robust, overwhelming force. I’m waiting—for that one soul in the world that fits mine, damn, how did you write sothing this freaking good!
Jiang Jingsheng’s scalp tingled, and he nearly couldn’t resist asking Pei Muchan if there was more.
The rest were even more overwheld.
Hou Xueheng’s reaction wasn’t as strong, but his eyes glittered with excitent as if he had discovered treasure.
“These lyrics are written so well! It has that feeling of looking down from the balcony under the moonlight!”
“Good, really well written!” Lin Chuan, who was accompanying Hou Xueheng, couldn’t help but exclaim, “The choice of words is accurate and shrewd, it’s hard to imagine anyone writing lyrics like this.”
Qi Yingying had almost anticipated her elimination, but this actually lightened her spirits.
“This song is really well written, and sung beautifully; it’s fully emotionally imrsive!”
“The challenger is just too outstanding!” said Wen Shuanghua, whose body was full-bodied, swollen where it should be and slender where it should be, a perfect pear-shaped figure.
She inexplicably felt a liking for Pei Muchan, who had a fine figure herself but without such exaggeration.
“’Marrying Late’—that line hits right in the feels, waiting for that one soul in the world that fits mine.”
Having just co off stage, Ji Chen frowned more and more as he listened. He could vaguely sense that the lyrics were very clean and sharp, but to articulate exactly why was impossible for him.
After all, he had studied songwriting during the phase of his career before he beca famous and hadn’t been involved in the creation of songs for many years now.
Good to listen to?
I can only say, it’s decent, not as exciting as rock music.
Seeing the strong reactions around him, he felt the lyrics might be a bit impressive. But in his heart, the song was still only decent, diocre at best.
Guan Fengchen’s reaction was even more direct; hearing that line, “I’m waiting…,” he directly took off his badge, turned, and walked away.
“Where are you going?” Ji Chen asked from behind.
“Where else?” Guan Fengchen turned around, expressionless, “It’s a loss, going ho.”
As the song ended, the audience was still lost in the swaying yellow light of the crescent moons and the simulated scenery outside the train windows. Unaware, they realized they had been listening to the end.
“Could he—could he—”
The audience paused ntally, with only one thought in their minds—my god! How can this song be so… good!
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