Being a gigolo was too much for him, so he had to become a music superstar.

The most cliché line in the song, "I just wanted to tell her I'm sorry," is actually the most genuine line in the whole song.

It's not love. It's not a gimmick.

It's a pity.

The final chorus:

"Become rich, I'll become rich—"

"Leave all your troubles to the horizon—"

"Become rich, I'll become rich—"

"And then, from the bottom of my heart, I say that money isn't everything—"

The first chorus sings "pretending to be humble and saying that money isn't everything," while the last chorus becomes "saying from the bottom of my heart that money isn't everything."

The difference between feigned modesty and genuine sincerity completely changes the theme of the song.

Finished a song.

Lin Buyi pressed down on the strings with his right hand, stopping the sound cleanly and crisply, without any unnecessary coda or deliberate pauses.

It's stopped.

The room was quiet for about two or three seconds.

Those two or three seconds were a genuine moment of silence. It wasn't that the judges were gathering their thoughts; rather, they needed to step out of the song.

Fang Yizhou spoke first.

His expression was still serious, but his tone was different from when he asked "Why did you come to participate in the talent show?" earlier; it was more earnest.

"Lin Buyi, let me tell you the truth first."

Fang Yizhou pulled the rating sheet in front of him closer and placed his hands on it, crossed.

"Your song has a good melody. It's catchy and memorable. I was unconsciously tapping my foot to the beat the whole time, which shows that your melody is really captivating. As for the lyrics—"

He paused for a moment, thinking about his words.

"Very straightforward, so straightforward that it's almost vulgar."

Lin Buyi remained silent, his expression unchanged. He sat there, guitar on his lap, waiting for Fang Yizhou to finish speaking.

"But I personally think this kind of vulgarity is actually a kind of sincerity. You're not trying to be sophisticated for the sake of being sophisticated, nor are you writing lyrics to cater to some aesthetic standard. You're writing your own things. That's not a bad thing."

Lin Buyi nodded.

"But the problem is—"

Fang Yizhou's tone changed, becoming stern.

"You're not formally trained, and you haven't had any systematic music training. Your breath control, pitch stability, and guitar playing skills are, to put it bluntly, only at the level of an amateur."

That's a very straightforward statement.

If those trainees in the waiting area were here, they'd probably burst out laughing.

But Lin Buyi showed no hurt or resentment. He knew Fang Yizhou was telling the truth; technically, he was indeed an amateur, a fact he knew better than anyone.

Fang Yizhou continued, "Future Star is a nationwide S-level music talent show. Once you enter the official stage, you'll be facing the top students from major music academies and professional trainees who have been trained by major entertainment companies for several years. They've honed their basic skills for three to five years, or even longer. You're just a finance major..."

He paused, shifting his gaze from Lin Buyi to the rating sheet in front of him.

"Why should we compete with them?"

This question doesn't need an answer. Or rather, Fang Yizhou wasn't really asking him, but rather telling him—you're not qualified.

"My advice is that you can continue making music, but at this stage, you're not ready to stand on this stage yet."

Fang Yizhou picked up his pen and marked an X on the evaluation sheet.

Not approved.

Lin Buyi tightened his grip on the guitar neck for a moment, then loosened it again.

He didn't speak.

Zhou Wanting took over the conversation. Her attitude was gentler than Fang Yizhou's, but Lin Buyi had already guessed the conclusion before she even spoke.

"Lin Buyi, I agree with most of Professor Fang's points."

Her voice was soft, but it carried an undeniable professionalism.

"Your voice is truly exceptional. It's highly distinctive, a natural gift from heaven. Frankly, out of over a hundred contestants today, your timbre ranks in the top five."

Upon hearing this, Fang Yizhou turned his head and glanced at Zhou Wanting. Top five? He felt that was a bit too high a rating.

But Zhou Wanting didn't continue that topic. She changed the subject:

"But talent and ability are two different things. You have many problems with your singing technique. Towards the end, you clearly ran out of breath, your breathing was very stiff, and you were almost entirely relying on your throat to hold up the high notes. You must have felt it yourself, right? Did your throat tighten towards the end?"

Lin Buyi nodded. Indeed.

"If these problems aren't solved, you won't be able to handle the really big songs later in the competition. Your voice will get injured, and in severe cases, it could cause irreversible damage."

Zhou Wanting picked up her pen and looked at Lin Buyi.

"You should first find a professional vocal teacher to study systematically for a period of time. Once you have a solid foundation, come back next time. I believe you will be much better than you are now."

She also marked it with an X on the rating sheet.

Not approved.

Two vetoes.

The atmosphere in the audition room suddenly became heavy.

Behind the three judges' tables, there was a cross drawn on each of two pieces of paper.

There was only one person left.

Xue Xinghe.

Lin Buyi sat on the stool, his guitar resting on his knees, his back ramrod straight. His face betrayed no emotion; he was neither angry nor frustrated, nor did he have the urge to defend himself after being rejected.

But he was not at peace.

Every word Fang Yizhou and Zhou Wanting said was correct. His breathing was off, his technique was rough, and his fundamentals were weak. He knew this from the day he decided to participate in this competition.

Knowing something doesn't mean he can accept the outcome.

He cannot accept it.

He couldn't say, "Thank you, teachers, I'll come again next time," then sling his guitar over his shoulder, walk out, take that bus, return to that villa, and continue to be locked in that room by Su Nianwei, enduring day after day, day after day—

There won't be a next time.

His sister didn't have time to wait for him to come again.

The doctor said the surgery could be scheduled for next month or the month after. If he fails this time, he'll have to go back to that kind of life, go back to Su Nianwei's performance evaluation, and go back to saving 10,000 yuan every day.

All eyes were on Xue Xinghe.

Xue Xinghe remained silent.

He picked up the pen again sometime during the night, his index and middle fingers twisting the pen handle. One circle, two circles, three circles.

He looked at Lin Buyi.

Five seconds.

Eight seconds.

ten seconds.

Those ten seconds felt like an eternity to Lin Buyi. He could even hear his own heartbeat, heavy and rapid, one after another.

He told himself: Stay calm. No matter what the outcome, you can't show any panic here. If you panic, it's all over.

Finally, Xue Xinghe threw the pen on the table.

He spoke.

"I agree with what Teacher Fang and Teacher Zhou said about the technical issues. You are indeed very rough—"

When he said this, Lin Buyi's heart sank.