Huayu: That year, I withdrew from the Super Boy competition.

The stage at the end of the passageway was as bright as day.

He Jiong's voice came from the speakers:

"The next contestant to take the stage is someone we've all been waiting for a long time..."

People in the audience were already calling his name.

First there were a few scattered shouts, then more and more, louder and louder, until finally they merged into a unified cry—

"Su Wei!"

"..."

He closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath.

This is probably the last time he will stand on this stage.

He Jiong's voice continued from the speaker:

"...Let's welcome Su Wei, who brings us his adaptation of 'Hair Like Snow'!"

The lights went out.

In the darkness, Su Wei walked onto the stage.

Then the sound of a pipa began.

The stringed notes enter first, carrying a grainy texture, like a gust of wind blowing across the empty Gobi Desert.

Then the big drum came crashing down with a heavy thud—

thump.

thump.

thump.

Each sound felt like stepping on a person's heartbeat, unhurried, steady, and desolate.

The lights slowly came on from the darkness.

Su Wei stood in the center of the stage, with a desolate scene displayed on the large screen behind her:

Yellow sand filled the sky, dilapidated city walls stood in the distance, and snow-capped mountains stretched into the distance. Nearby, a flag fluttered in the wind.

The image is in warm colors, yet it makes people feel cold.

People in the audience were whispering to each other.

This is completely different from what they remember of "Hair Like Snow".

The original piano prelude has a cool and serene Jiangnan feel, which is completely unrelated to the yellow sand and vast landscape of the Western Regions before us.

One knowledgeable audience member whispered, "The arrangement... it's all been changed."

No one spoke up, because everyone's attention was drawn to Su Wei on the stage.

He stood in the very center of that desolate scene, wearing a black Chinese-style stand-up collar performance costume.

Then he picked up the microphone and began to sing the first line—

"The crescent moon hangs low, and she looks so forlorn..."

Just this one sentence.

The entire room fell silent.

His voice sounded different tonight than usual.

Su Wei's singing voice was clear and pure, like mountain spring water, which was pleasant to listen to.

Tonight he had a completely different performance style.

He didn't hold back on the high notes, making the sound seem like it had been torn open.

"The bustling world is like three thousand rivers flowing eastward, I only take a ladleful of love to understand—"

His voice pierced through all the instruments and all the lights, going straight into everyone's ears.

"Hair as white as snow, a poignant farewell—"

He closed his eyes briefly, completely absorbed in the moment.

All two thousand audience members and two thousand pairs of eyes were fixed on the boy on the stage.

The light boards are swaying, the glow sticks are moving, and someone is shedding tears.

But nothing happened.

Only Su Wei's voice remained in the room.

One person, one microphone, and one song sung in farewell.

When the last line was sung, the instruments were put away one by one.

Only his voice remained on stage, the last notes of his a cappella singing echoing in the studio for several seconds—

"...With unwavering devotion, I will etch an eternal monument to your love."

The last note faded.

The entire room fell silent.

It was quiet for a long time.

No one applauded.

No one screamed.

The two thousand people were frozen in place, as if under a spell.

Then--

The first round of applause rang out.

Then came the second and third sounds, and then everyone seemed to wake up suddenly, standing up from their seats.

Thunderous applause erupted from the first row to the last.

Su Wei's name was called out once again, this time more uniformly and forcefully than ever before.

"Su Wei!"

"Su Wei!"

"Su Wei!"

The light boards in the back row were shaking wildly. Someone stood up while holding a light board, and because they held it so high, they almost fell on the people in front of them.

He Jiong walked up from the side of the stage, his expression somewhat complicated.

He has been a host for more than ten years, from "Big Windmill" to "Happy Camp" and then to "Super Boy", and has listened to countless live performances.

But this song truly amazed him.

He stood next to Su Wei, raised the microphone, and after the applause subsided slightly, said, "...The adaptation is really good."

Then he turned to the audience and raised his voice: "What do you all think? Does it sound good?"

"It sounds great!!"

"I love listening to this!!"

"One more song!!"

The audience responded with screams, cheers, and whistles.

He Jiong smiled and put the microphone away, about to start the process.

According to the script, the next part should be the judges' comments.

But Su Wei did not move.

He stood there in the center of the stage, holding the microphone, looking at the sea of ​​light that had illuminated the audience for him.

His chest was still heaving, and a thin layer of sweat clung to his forehead.

The light shone down from above, casting deep shadows on his face.

"Teacher He," he turned to look at He Jiong, his voice not loud, but the microphone clearly carried his voice to everyone's ears, "Could I have a minute? I have something to say."

He Jiong's expression changed slightly.

This change is so subtle that it's almost unnoticeable without careful observation.

He froze for a moment.

But he only paused for a moment.

His more than ten years of live streaming experience allowed him to regain his professional smile in a fraction of a second.

"sure."

He moved the microphone away from his mouth, stepped back, and gave the stage to Su Wei.

As he stepped back, his gaze quickly swept towards the direction of the side stage directing team.

Behind the monitor, Long Danny's body was visibly tense.

Her hand, resting on the table, had slightly white fingertips.

The noise from the audience gradually subsided.

Everyone is waiting.

Waiting for Su Wei to say something.

Is it a thank you?

Is it a sigh?

Or something else?

No one guessed it.

The stage lights gradually changed from warm yellow to a pure white spotlight, enveloping Su Wei alone in the beam of light.

He stood there, holding the microphone.

As quiet as a statue.

Then he spoke.

First of all, thank you everyone. Thank you to everyone who has supported me.

He paused for a moment, as if organizing his thoughts or making final mental preparations.

"Tonight, I'm singing this song as if it were my last."

This statement caused a stir in the audience.

Some people were asking "What does this mean?", some were whispering "No way", and others were already shouting "Su Wei, don't go".

Su Wei waited until the voices subsided slightly before continuing:

"I have decided to withdraw from the competition."

Seven characters.

It was light and airy, but when it landed in the studio, it felt like a bomb.

The whole place erupted in chaos.

Some people in the audience stood up, some covered their mouths and stared wide-eyed, some shouted "Why?", and some had already started to cry.

On the judges' panel, Bao Xiaobo suddenly looked up and grabbed the microphone from the table: "Su Wei, what are you talking about?"

Wu Zhoutong took off his glasses and frowned as he looked at the stage.

The entire directing team on the sidelines was watching Long Danny.

Danny Long sat behind the monitor, motionless.

Her face was illuminated by the monitor light, and her expression was unreadable.

But if you look closely, you'll notice that the knuckles of the hand she's holding on the table are clenched so tightly they've turned white.