Reborn as a comedic artist

Chapter 81 A Battle to Become a God, True to One's Words

Cheng Ming and Wang Shuo exchanged a glance, then simultaneously raised their microphones and, with all their might, unleashed their strongest vocalizations: "The light of dawn!!!"

"We will overcome the darkness!!!"

Blasted.

It completely exploded.

The moment that line was sung, the entire Expo Park seemed to tremble.

It was a perfect resonance between two top male voices, a pinnacle fusion of technique and emotion.

Cheng Ming's high notes were clear and resonant, soaring to the heavens; Wang Shuo's harmonies were rich and powerful, as steady as Mount Tai.

"I can break through all fear!!!"

"The answer has been found!!!"

Zhao Yufeng had already stood up. She was wildly waving the drumsticks in her hand, her long hair flying in the air. Every strike seemed to be an attempt to smash the injustices of the world.

Gu Xiao's body swayed violently with the rhythm, her usual composure completely gone. At this moment, she was like a rose blooming in a raging fire.

Lin Yiyi bit her lip, staring at the glowing figure ahead, tears streaming down her face, yet her smile was brighter than ever before.

Even if it means going against the light!!!

"Dispel the darkness!!!"

Cheng Ming walked to the edge of the stage. He didn't look at the camera, but stared intently at the young, confused, and enthusiastic faces below the stage.

He saw the delivery guy take off his helmet and wipe the tears from his face.

He saw the photographer put down his camera and wave his arms in rhythm.

He saw that the girl who had been laughing carefree just moments before was now crying so hard that her makeup was ruined.

"Discard all burdens!!!"

"No longer alone!!!"

"No longer alone!!!"

At this moment, there are no pranks, no jokes, and no abstract ideas.

Only the most primal emotions, the purest power.

This is music.

This is the voice that can penetrate the soul.

In the Bilibili live stream room, the chat was completely insane.

The densely packed "hahaha" and "awesome" have now all been replaced by three neatly arranged characters:

[Tears welling up]

[Tears welling up]

[Tears welling up]

[I cried my eyes out on the subway! Is this really the song sung by that lunatic who stole the computer earlier?]

[This singing ability—this explosive power—even the national team couldn't compare!]

[Is this the sound of Sichuan music? Is this Cheng Ming? I'm a fan!! I'm a fan for life!!]

This isn't singing, it's giving my skull a massage!!

On stage, the music gradually faded away.

That was the calm after the storm.

Cheng Ming's voice deepened again, but the veins on his forehead were still clearly visible, the lingering effect of his previous outburst: "Perhaps this is how the world is—"

"I'm still on my way too—"

"There's no one I can talk to—"

Wang Shuo continued with the last verse, his voice slightly hoarse, yet all the more moving: "Perhaps I can only remain silent—"

Tears welled up in her eyes—

"But I'm unwilling to be weak—"

The last note fell.

Gu Xiao's fingers remained on the piano keys for a long time.

Zhao Yufeng held the position for the final strike, her chest heaving violently, sweat dripping from her delicate chin onto the drum surface.

The entire room fell into a deathly silence.

This silence was longer and heavier than any of the previous ones.

It was a state of disorientation where people were immersed in a huge emotional shock and couldn't extricate themselves for a while.

Cheng Ming slowly put down the microphone and bowed deeply to the audience.

"boom!!!"

applause.

A thunderous applause erupted.

Screams, shouts, and whistles mingled together, creating a massive sound wave that nearly blew the roof off the entire exhibition hall.

"Cheng Ming!!! Cheng Ming!!!"

"Sichuan sound!!! Shuyin!!!"

It's unclear who started shouting the names, but soon the two names merged into a unified slogan that resounded throughout the sky.

Standing on the side stage, Chen Yao watched this scene and felt her eyes welling up with tears.

She has hosted countless events and met many celebrities, but never before has she been as amazed as she was today.

This is not just a performance, but more like a collective catharsis, a baptism of the soul.

She looked at the man wiping his sweat in the center of the stage.

At this moment, Cheng Ming had lost the sharpness he had when he sang earlier and reverted to his lazy state.

He casually handed the microphone to Wang Shuo, then took out a tissue from his pocket, first handing it to Lin Yiyi next to him, and then wiping his own forehead.

This moment of tenderness struck Chen Yao's heart.

Exceptionally talented, with a unique way of thinking, humorous and handsome, and on top of that, incredibly meticulous.

Is this man toxic?!

Having been in this industry for a long time, I've seen many so-called "top celebrities" who appear glamorous on the surface but treat their assistants like dogs in private.

A man like Cheng Ming, who, after electrifying the audience on stage, doesn't immediately offer applause but instead hands tissues to the silly junior schoolgirl next to him, is practically a rare breed.

The contrast was so striking.

One second he's that crazy guy singing "Stealing Computers," the next he's a rock warrior tearing through the darkness, and then he turns into a gentle and considerate older brother next door.

Chen Yao took a deep breath, trying to calm the inexplicable restlessness in her chest.

She raised her hand to tidy up the stray hairs at her temples, using the movement to adjust her slightly disordered breathing. Then, she straightened her back, stepped onto the stage in her red-soled high heels.

This time, she didn't make fun of anyone, nor did she use that professional approach.

The formulaic smile that used to grace her face disappeared, replaced by an aggressively seductive demeanor.

She walked up to Cheng Ming, her eyes revealing not only undisguised admiration, but also—an undisguised possessiveness.

It's like a hunter examining his most satisfying prey.

"Captain Xiaoming."

Chen Yao's voice was surprisingly charming and alluring, even carrying a hint of girlish shyness, with a slight upward inflection at the end: "Now I finally understand why everyone was shouting 'Shu Yin is awesome!'"

She turned to face the still-boiling sea of ​​cheers below the stage, her voice suddenly becoming impassioned: "This song, 'Your Answer,' I believe, is the best answer they've given! Don't you all agree?!"

"yes!!!"

The response from the audience was deafening, the roar almost drowning out the speakers.

In the distance, the backstage rest area of ​​the entertainment and leisure zone.

The person in charge, Lao Zhang, was slumped in his chair, completely undignified. His expensive custom-made shirt was soaked with sweat and stuck to his back. He was clutching a half-empty bottle of mineral water tightly in his hand, which was still trembling slightly.

Just ten minutes ago, when Cheng Ming sang the line "To steal the computer," Lao Zhang almost fainted.

After all, this is the World Expo, a proper occasion. How dare this guy openly cause trouble on stage?

But now.

Looking at the bustling crowd on the monitor, at the red curve on the backend data monitor that was almost bursting through the top of the screen, at the tens of millions of views in the live stream, the stiff muscles on his face slowly relaxed, and finally he smiled like a blooming chrysanthemum, "I've struck gold—I've really struck gold this time—"

Old Zhang unscrewed the bottle cap, took a big gulp of water, and without wiping the water stains from his mouth, his eyes gleaming: "Whether it's the video effect or the on-site control, this kid is truly a master of big scenes. We must make good arrangements for tonight!"

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