23: Chapter 23 Crosstalk performer Yu Liang bows on stage.

In the preparation area, Teacher Zhou Xiaoou and Dr. Zhai Tianlin leaned back against the sofa, the corners of their mouths curling slightly. Bai Baihe put down her phone and turned her gaze completely toward the giant screen.

Dilraba clasped her hands together. "Strange, why am I getting nervous too?" she murmured softly.

Hua Chenyu held his coffee cup but didn't take a sip.

If Yu Liang made a fool of himself, his own finale would be much easier.

The venue went dark.

Then, that beam of light turned on.

Yu Liang stood in the light.

The buzzing of the audience, the whispers from the judges' panel, the rolling bullet comments in the live stream—all of it was isolated by that amber beam of light.

Inside the light, there was only the microphone and himself.

Yu Liang closed his eyes.

He let out a soft sigh.

It was very light.

So light that it sounded like someone sitting on the threshold at dusk, sighing a lifetime's worth of regret into that single breath.

"Have you not heard that time is like a galloping horse under the whip, and the years are like falling flowers in flowing water..."

An old, raspy voice, its edges dulled by the years, welled up from deep within his throat.

Every word was like ashes scattered by the wind.

"Some resign to return to their hometowns, while others rush to the imperial examinations through the starry night. In youth, one knows not the taste of sorrow; only in old age does one realize the hardships of the road—"

The final syllable lingered for a long time. So long that it felt like a sigh being blown across an entire street by the wind.

This voice sounded exactly like Tong Guowei from 'Yongzheng Dynasty'!

The audience fell silent.

It was the kind of silence where everyone held their breath simultaneously. The scrolling speed of the bullet comments slowed down abruptly, as if fingers typing had frozen mid-air.

On the judges' panel, Na Ying, who had been leaning back, slowly sat upright. Mentor Wu Yifan's cue cards had been placed on the table at some unknown point. Judge Yang Mi's gaze remained fixed.

The sound broke off.

It didn't stop abruptly; instead, it was like the needle of an old phonograph being gently lifted, leaving a brief pause for breath.

Yu Liang's Adam's apple bobbed. His breath rose an inch from the depths of his chest.

The aged raspiness faded away. A sense of certainty, born from having weathered a thousand storms, grew from his straightened spine.

The sound resonated between his pharynx and nasal cavity, carrying a hint of nonchalant clarity.

"As the saying goes, no matter how high the mountain, there is always a path for the traveler; no matter how deep the water, there is always a ferryman."

It was like someone riding a horse at dusk, knowing there were mountains and rivers ahead, but also knowing with certainty that the mountains and rivers would eventually meet.

In the preparation area, Dr. Zhai Tianlin nodded slightly.

Teacher Zhou Xiaoou's lips curled up.

Having acted for so many years, they knew exactly what this kind of vocal control meant.

"Flowers may bloom again, but a man is never young twice."

Suddenly, everyone's mind buzzed with an explosion!

"A great man born between heaven and earth, how can he remain depressed and serve under others for long!"

That breath exploded completely.

This voice sounded so much like Jiang Wen!

It had Zhang Mazi's clarity, sharpness, and overbearing arrogance.

Like a freshly sharpened blade flipping over in the sunlight, the light reflecting off the edge stung the eyes.

Dilraba's hand suddenly gripped the sofa's armrest.

Beside her, Dr. Zhai Tianlin's chin tilted up slightly, as if his spirit had been lifted by that voice.

Tong Guowei, Sun Wukong, Zhang Mazi, Lu Bu... whatever he dubbed, he sounded exactly like them!

One person playing six roles!

The bullet comments froze completely at this second.

A screen full of [???] hung there; no one was typing.

The first bullet comment floated across.

[Holy sh*t.]

Immediately after, the screen was flooded with the same sentence:

[I have goosebumps]

[I have goosebumps]

[I have goosebumps]

The blade was retracted.

Yu Liang's breath fell from the heights back into his chest. His shoulders dropped, and his chin tucked in slightly. The sharpness was sheathed, but everyone knew it was still there.

His voice was no longer high-pitched or impassioned. It was deep, restrained, and carried a strength settled after being repeatedly hammered by life. His speech was slow, each word seemingly squeezed out from his bones.

"To be of humble origin is no disgrace. To be able to bend and stretch is what makes a true man."

By the time the last four words landed, his voice was almost a whisper. He wasn't preaching; he was talking to himself. Like a person who has traveled a long road nodding to himself in the night.

Yu Liang's Adam's apple bobbed again, and his voice retracted from deep in his chest to a position between old age and steady maturity.

"Have you not heard that time is like a galloping horse under the whip, and the years are like falling flowers in flowing water—"

The exact same words as the first segment.

But the voice had changed completely.

The first segment was the sigh of old age; this segment was the clarity of middle age. The same person, the same words, yet separated by decades of distance.

In the preparation area, Teacher Zhou Xiaoou and Dr. Zhai Tianlin both sat up straight at the same time.

They understood.

These weren't six random lines; he had used six voices to string together a person's entire life into a single timeline.

Yu Liang closed his eyes.

That beam of light was still on, warm. He stood in the light, motionless.

The studio was silent for a full five seconds.

Then, the applause exploded.

It was an irrepressible applause welling up from deep within the audience, accompanied by screams and shouts.

Someone stood up, then a second, then a third.

In the dark mass of the audience, walls of people rose up layer by layer.

In the preparation area, Dr. Zhai Tianlin was the first to stand and applaud. Teacher Zhou Xiaoou and Jia Jialiang followed suit.

Bai Baihe glanced at Hua Chenyu, her eyes filled with a mix of worry and relief.

Hua Chenyu's heart sank.

He was a professional singer. He knew better than anyone present how many vocal positions Yu Liang had switched through in that performance.

From the aged pharyngeal tones to the steady chest resonance, then to the high-positioned head voice of youthful spirit, and finally back to the restrained glottal sounds.

This wasn't just dubbing.

This was acting with the voice.

And he, Hua Chenyu, a professional singer, was about to go up... and read lines.

His coffee had gone cold. He suddenly felt it was a bit bitter.

Yu Liang bowed to the audience.

The applause grew even louder.

On the giant screen, Teacher Wang Han walked back to the center of the stage. He glanced at Yu Liang and then turned to the camera.

"Thank you, Teacher Yu Liang, for that wonderful performance."

He paused and pushed up his black-rimmed glasses.

"To be honest, I've hosted programs for many years, and this is the first time I've seen a 'medley of lines' format on a dubbing competition stage. I just finished listening to the whole thing from the wings—"

"Wait a moment! Teacher Wang Han."

Judge Yang Mi's voice came from the judges' panel.

Teacher Wang Han stopped talking and turned toward her. The camera cut over. Judge Yang Mi leaned forward slightly, one hand resting on the table, her fingertips lightly tapping the surface.

"I would like to ask Teacher Yu Liang a question."

She used the word "ask" with respect. Yu Liang stood on the stage, looking at the woman sitting on the panel. Her expression was very serious—so serious she didn't quite look like the usual Judge Yang Mi.

"Please, go ahead."

"Of the six segments of dialogue just now, I can find the sources for the last five. But that first line, 'Time is like a galloping horse under the whip'—which drama is it from? There was no corresponding footage on the big screen either."

"Right, yeah!"

The audience erupted in discussion.

Na Ying and Mentor Wu Yifan looked at Yu Liang simultaneously.

They had also been a bit puzzled when the screen went black earlier.

This was exactly what they wanted to ask.

They all looked at Yu Liang standing on the stage. If Yu Liang really couldn't answer, it would mean he was being opportunistic and cheating.