32: Chapter 32: Is there something wrong with your ears?

The stage lights went completely dark, leaving only a single spotlight shining on Jiang Fan and the seven musicians behind him.

Hua Xingyu leaned back in his chair with a cold sneer on his lips.

"Traditional instruments mixed with electronic sound? He wanted to see how Jiang Fan would wrap up such an incongruous mess."

The zither player's right hand touched the strings.

Zheng—

Crisp and lingering, the reverberations spread throughout the Studio.

The whispers in the audience instantly died down at that single note.

Immediately after, a bamboo flute joined in.

The ethereal flute melody wove into the lingering notes of the zither, without a hint of chaos, instead sketching out the hazy feeling of a misty Jiangnan.

Xue Zhiheng, who had been sitting in a languid posture, had sat up straight without anyone noticing.

Just as everyone was immersed in the atmosphere of pure traditional music, the electronic drumbeats and the timbre of an electric guitar suddenly crashed down!

There was none of the expected harshness or dissonance.

The transition chords Jiang Fan had embedded in the Arrangement acted like a precise bridge, allowing the icy coolness of traditional music and the heaviness of electronic sound to combine perfectly.

This auditory contrast and fusion instantly sent shivers down everyone's scalps.

Jiang Fan gripped the microphone stand with both hands; his master-level vocals were unleashed.

[The rough sketch outlines the blue and white porcelain, the brushstrokes shifting from thick to thin]

[The peony painted on the vase, just like your initial makeup]

[The slow-drifting sandalwood incense passes through the window, I understand your hidden thoughts]

[The brush on the rice paper stops halfway here]

As soon as Jiang Fan's voice emerged, the entire Studio seemed to have been hit with a mute button.

There was none of the deliberately affected Opera-style vocal technique seen in Zhao Tianyu, nor the overly complex, showy vocal runs of Lu Ming.

It was just the purest, cleanest pop singing style.

Yet every single word carried a powerful sense of imagery.

[The glaze renders the painting of the lady, the charm is kept hidden]

[And your charming smile, like a budding flower]

[A wisp of your beauty drifts away]

[To a place I cannot reach]

Xu Qingya sat at the judges' table, looking at Jiang Fan with gentle eyes.

She had heard the demo of Jiang Fan singing this song, but with the full band version live...

She realized—she had severely underestimated this song.

[The sky-blue waits for the misty rain, and I am waiting for you]

[The cooking smoke rises in curls, separating the river by thousands of miles]

[In the clerical script on the bottom of the vase, imitating the elegance of the previous dynasty]

[Just as if I am foreshadowing our meeting]

The moment the chorus exploded, the Livestream Room's chat saw a three-second vacuum.

Eight million people seemed to have forgotten how to type.

Subsequently, the comments flooded the screen like an avalanche.

"Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap!!!"

"This is what you call national style! This is what you call national style!!"

"The sky-blue waits for the misty rain, and I am waiting for you... Is this lyrics something a human can write?!"

"I take back what I said earlier; this Arrangement is freaking awesome! Lu Ming's symphonic orchestra is nothing!"

On stage, Jiang Fan was completely immersed in the rhythm.

During the interlude, the bamboo flute player stood up.

A solo using a non-conventional fingering technique, ethereal and piercing, directly pushed the song's atmosphere to the clouds.

The erhu laid the foundation in the bass range, while the electric guitar shredded in the high range.

Three distinct emotions intertwined on stage, finally converging into a torrent that struck straight at the soul.

[Like the passing down of blue and white porcelain, beautiful in its own way]

[Your eyes filled with smiles]

The last note of the outro fell.

The zither player pressed her hands on the strings, and the lingering sound stopped abruptly.

The entire venue was deathly silent.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

Boom!

Five hundred audience judges stood up simultaneously; the applause and screams almost blew the roof off the Studio.

Xue Zhiheng waved his scoring paddle in his hand like a fanatic fan.

Teacher He walked onto the stage, picked up the microphone, and paused for two seconds before speaking.

"Too shocking! Jiang Fan, you have shown us what true Chinese pop culture is!"

Teacher He calmed his breathing and looked toward the judges' table.

"Let's have the three Star Mentors give their scores!"

Xue Zhiheng was the first to pick up the microphone.

"Jiang Fan, you are not a genius; you are a monster. Every line of this song's lyrics could be written into textbooks. The Arrangement of this song breaks the Chinese music industry's inherent perception of national style. I give it 100 points, because the maximum score is only 100."

The whole venue cheered.

Xu Qingya picked up the microphone.

She looked at Jiang Fan, the pride in her eyes impossible to hide.

"Top-tier lyrics and composition, top-tier Arrangement, top-tier vocals. I have no suggestions. 100 points."

The eyes of the entire venue finally fell on Hua Xingyu.

Hua Xingyu's face was livid.

He had just been mocking Jiang Fan's Arrangement as a haphazard stew, but Jiang Fan had immediately handed in a god-tier answer sheet worthy of being recorded in the history of the Chinese music industry.

Hua Xingyu looked at the paddle in his hand, his back covered in cold sweat.

Everyone's gaze fell on Hua Xingyu.

He picked up the microphone.

"Jiang Fan, the lyrics and composition are indeed excellent. But I want to express some different views from a professional perspective."

"Mixing traditional music with electronic sound is nothing new in the Chinese music industry. In the chorus section of your song, the glissando of the zither and the distorted timbre of the electric guitar overlap, creating a clear conflict in the soundstage—"

"Which frequency band is conflicting?"

Jiang Fan's voice came through the stage microphone.

Hua Xingyu's words stuck in his throat.

The judges' table was silent for two seconds.

Xue Zhiheng suddenly turned his head, his gaze crossing the stage to land on the short-haired woman behind the zither.

"Wait a minute—"

His voice carried clear surprise.

"Zither player, are you Principal Cellist?"

Someone in the Studio gasped.

The 'Hua Yun' concert at the National Centre for the Performing Arts was a top-tier traditional music special event spearheaded by the Ministry of Culture last year.

There were fewer than ten people in the whole country who could perform a solo on that stage.

Principal Cellist sat behind the zither and nodded slightly.

She turned her face to look at Hua Xingyu.

"There is no problem with the frequency band processing in this Arrangement."

"The frequencies of the zither glissando and the electric guitar distortion are completely staggered; overlapping them creates a sense of spatial immersion, not a conflict."

She withdrew her gaze.

"If you can't hear that, it's not a problem with the Arrangement."

A burst of boisterous laughter erupted in the Studio.

The Livestream Room's chat turned into a pure carnival.

[Hahahaha, Hua Xingyu: The Arrangement has a problem. Principal Cellist: Your ears have a problem.]

[The musicians Brother Xiao Chou hired are of this level??]

Hua Xingyu's face instantly turned the color of a pig's liver, his teeth clenched tightly.

He lowered his head and flipped over his scoring paddle.

60 points.

Boos surged from all directions.

But this time, even the sounds of anger were fewer.

Because everyone could see very clearly—this score had nothing to do with the music.

Seeing this, Teacher He quickly came out to control the situation.

"The three Star Mentors have finished scoring! Teacher Xue Zhiheng 100 points, Teacher Xu Qingya 100 points, Teacher Hua Xingyu 60 points! Total judge score 260 points! Next, please have the audience judges vote!"

The numbers on the big screen began to jump wildly.

100. 300. 480.

The numbers finally settled.

498 votes!

Out of the five hundred audience judges in the venue, only two people did not press the button.

Teacher He's voice penetrated the entire venue.

"Audience judges 498 votes! Total judge score 260 points! Jiang Fan's total score—758 points!"

Because of Hua Xingyu's malicious score suppression, the total score did not exceed Lu Ming's 768 points, but these 498 audience votes already said everything.

Jiang Fan didn't even glance at the big screen; he picked up his guitar and turned to walk off the stage with his band.

When he reached the aisle entrance, he stopped, turned his head, and gave Hua Xingyu a cold look.