Taking Liu Yifei back to Northeast China for the Chinese New Year has sent the entire internet into

Inside the recording studio, Fang Yu did not speak immediately.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

The scenes from the photography studio that afternoon flashed through my mind again.

Those images, mixed with the lingering effects of the alcohol, burned ever brighter in my chest.

After a while.

Inside the control room, Old Chen raised his hand and pressed the play button.

"Zheng—"

The guzheng intro flowed from the monitor speakers.

Fang Yu opened his eyes.

"The vast sea laughs—the tides surge on both shores—"

"Floating and sinking with the waves—a record of today—"

boom!

The first sentence was uttered.

Old Chen's back instantly left the chair back.

He looked down at the level meter.

The green beam of light bounced up and down in sync with Fang Yu's voice, occasionally plunging into the yellow zone at its highest point, but never overloading and breaking through the red zone.

I wasn't wearing monitoring headphones.

It relies solely on external speaker accompaniment.

If it were a regular singer, the rhythm and pitch would most likely be off.

Fang Yu didn't utter a single sound!

Not only did it not drift—his voice had an absurdly strong penetrating power, effectively suppressing the background noise brought in by the external speaker and transforming it into the most natural sound field texture!

"The heavens laugh—the world's tides surge—"

"Who wins and who loses—only God knows—"

in the corner.

Sister Wang hugged her briefcase tightly, even her breathing became soft.

She has listened to every song Fang Yu recorded.

"Mohe Dance Hall", "Northeast Folk Song", "Heaven and Earth Dragon Scales"...

Each song has a different style.

But Fang Yu tonight was a completely different person.

There was no elaborate display of technique, nor any deliberate attempt to show off high notes.

There was only one word in his voice.

mad!

"The land smiles—the misty rain stretches far—"

"The waves have washed away so much of what the mundane world has to offer—"

As He Zheng sang this, his lips began to move uncontrollably.

The chivalrous spirit that had been suppressed in his heart for twenty years was ignited!

"Bang!"

The soundproof door to the soundproof room was pushed open.

Old Chen was so startled he almost jumped off his chair.

"Director He!"

He instinctively wanted to call a halt.

But muscle memory reacts faster than the brain.

Snapped!

Old Chen's hand swiftly pushed up the total level of the two environmental capacitor microphones!

The dynamic sound field of the entire room suddenly exploding is tightly controlled and kept within a safe value!

Inside the recording studio.

He Zheng rushed to Fang Yu's side, grabbed his shoulder, and opened his mouth to answer the microphone.

"A gentle breeze laughs—yet it stirs up loneliness—"

His voice was rough, and his pitch was off.

But that taste was just right!

This is a veteran director who has been making martial arts films for twenty years, and he has been suppressing the spirit of the martial arts world in his heart for twenty years!

Fang Yu did not pause.

He took the opportunity to put his arm around He Zheng and continued the conversation loudly.

"Only the evening glow remains of my heroic spirit—"

The two voices collided violently, exuding an indescribable sense of exhilaration.

In the control room, Wu Zheng watched this scene and suddenly burst into laughter.

"Ha ha ha ha!"

"happy!"

"That was fucking awesome!"

During that time at the courtyard in Huairou, He Zheng recorded a clip of Fang Yu singing and playing the guitar on his phone.

Wu Zheng listened to it many times afterward.

Now that a real person is singing inside, how can he possibly hold back?

Wu Zheng flung open the door to the control room and strode into the recording booth.

Sister Wang reached out her hand.

They couldn't stop them.

She watched the two people rush in one after another, and her whole body went numb.

Inside the recording studio.

Fang Yu stood in the middle.

He Zheng is on the left, and Wu Zheng is on the right.

Three men, reeking of alcohol, put their arms around each other's shoulders and looked up together as the interlude of the guzheng and flute began.

"La-la-la-la-la-"

"La la la—la la la—"

The sounds weren't exactly in unison; in fact, they were somewhat chaotic.

The three of them sang with increasing gusto, their hearts pounding with the energy of the wine and their sense of pride.

The interlude ends.

The drumbeats crashed down!

"The vast sea laughs—the tides surge on both shores—"

"Floating and sinking with the waves—a record of today—"

He Zheng said one sentence.

Wu Zheng said one sentence.

Fang Yu stood between the two, steadily supporting the harmony.

Three completely different voices collided and intertwined in front of the same set of microphones.

This moment.

They are no longer the nation's top singers.

He's not a famous director who's been making martial arts films for twenty years.

He is not a Best Actor who has won three major awards.

They were just three wild men who had drunk their fill of strong liquor and whose hearts were filled with the spirit of the martial arts world!

"The people laugh—no longer lonely—"

The final sentence arrives.

The three of them looked up at the same time, their voices almost piercing the ceiling.

"The passion remains—"

"Foolish! Foolish! Laughing! Laughing—!"

The final note dissipated.

The accompaniment slowly faded away with a desolate sound of a xiao (a type of Chinese flute).

There was a half-second of silence in the recording studio.

"Hahahaha—"

He Zheng was the first to throw his head back and laugh out loud.

The laughter was rough, unrestrained, and uninhibited.

Wu Zheng bent over, laughing so hard that tears were almost streaming down his face.

Fang Yu, sandwiched between the two, also burst into laughter.

The joy that emanated from the song didn't end with the accompaniment; instead, it exploded completely amidst the laughter of the three people.

laughter.

Rapid breathing.

His voice was slightly hoarse after drinking.

Everything was captured perfectly by the microphone that was still on!

Inside the control room.

Old Chen's hand was still hovering above the main fader of the mixing console.

On the screen, the multi-track waveforms are neatly arranged.

He slowly took off his listening headphones and slumped into his swivel chair.

All the complaints I had prepared were now stuck in my throat.

Old Chen looked at the three people in the recording studio, arms around each other and laughing, and it took him a long time to let out a sigh of relief.

"Damn... what a bunch of lunatics!"

……

Seven o'clock in the morning.

Hotels near Xiangshan Film and Television City.

Fang Yu opened his eyes, his mouth as dry as if he had chewed a mouthful of sand.

He propped himself up, unscrewed the bottle of mineral water by the bedside, tilted his head back, and gulped down half a bottle before he could catch his breath.

"How much did you drink last night?"

He rubbed his throbbing temples, trying to piece together the scene from last night.

Xiangshan aged wine, braised Wangchao wine, the unrestrained behavior in the recording studio... Memories are like shredded film, leaving only fragments of the three of them with their arms around each other, belting out songs into the microphone.

As for how I got back to the hotel, I have absolutely no recollection.

Fang Yu looked down at the clothes he was wearing.

It's fairly tidy.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

Thankfully, I didn't run around naked last night, nor did I confide in a trash can about my life.

As long as it doesn't make the news, it's not a big problem.

……

It's exactly eight o'clock.

The hotel's first-floor buffet restaurant.

Fang Yu walked in carrying a bowl of white porridge and two tea eggs, and immediately spotted He Zheng and Wu Zheng in the corner.

Neither of them looked too good.

He Zheng had obvious dark circles under his eyes, and three cups of life-saving honey water were placed in front of him.

Wu Zheng was in an even worse state; the once-renowned triple Best Actor was now slumped in his chair, his face pale and hungover.

Fang Yu walked over and sat down.

The three grown men stared at each other, none of them speaking first.

In the end, He Zheng sighed.

"I'm getting old."

He picked up the honey water, took a sip, and said with a hint of helplessness.

"When I was young, we would drink until dawn at the wrap party, and I would still get up at seven o'clock the next morning to watch the footage."

"Now look what's happened, I drank half a jin of aged wine and have had a headache all night."

Wu Zheng replied listlessly:

"Director He, you're actually doing alright."

"When I got back to my room last night, I didn't turn off the shower and just went straight to sleep."

"When I woke up this morning, the entire bathroom was flooded."

Fang Yu silently lowered his head and shoveled a mouthful of white porridge into his mouth.

He Zheng put down the honey water and looked at him: "How much of last night's recording do you remember?"

Fang Yu thought for a moment, then cracked the tea egg onto the table.

"I remember the first half."

"For the second half... I only remember someone holding me and singing."

Wu Zheng raised his head, his expression complex.

"That person is me."

Fang Yu paused in peeling the egg: "Why are you hugging me?"

Wu Zheng rubbed his temples, avoiding eye contact: "Uh... I forgot."

He Zheng couldn't listen anymore and waved his hand.

"Alright."

He picked up the remaining honey water and drank it all in one gulp.

"After dinner, let's go to the studio and listen to what happened last night."