Life countdown begins, ice queen bursts into security room

Teacher He took the microphone and slowly walked to the center of the stage.

"The semi-finals have officially begun."

"First, please welcome Zhang Yihan."

All the stage lights were turned off, leaving only a single cold white overhead light shining down.

Standing in the beam of light, Zhang Yihan's exaggerated smoky makeup made her face appear deathly pale.

The accompanying music began.

Empty.

Empty, empty, empty.

The synthesizer's low frequencies seeped from the speakers all around, as if something was slowly crawling under the stage.

The audience in the front row rubbed their forearms, a chill running up their spines.

The temperature in the entire venue dropped along with that background music.

Zhang Yihan began to sing, her voice deep and resonant, with long, drawn-out notes, each word seeming to fall downwards.

Thomas's arrangement pushed the emotional intensity to its extreme.

Each layer was heavier than the last, making it difficult to breathe loudly.

A sea of ​​white text floated across the live stream chat.

Goodness, this background music gave me goosebumps.

Thomas truly lives up to his reputation for creating a melancholic atmosphere; he's got the vibe down to the max.

How should Shen Nian fight? This style puts her at a disadvantage.

Four minutes later, the stage lights dimmed.

The entire room fell silent for a full five seconds.

The applause started sporadically, then grew into a continuous burst.

On the mentor's panel, Jay Chou spoke up, saying, "This arrangement is incredibly sophisticated. Even top producers in the West who work on dark themes only reach this level."

Tang Yingxue nodded: "The song selection is accurate, the arrangement is restrained, and the emotions are well-developed. She has delivered a truly perfect answer to the theme of 'sadness'."

With the approval of the three mentors, Zhang Yihan bowed slightly on stage with a proper smile.

On the monitor in the backstage dressing room, Zhang Yihan's performance had just ended.

Zhou Yutong clenched her hands together, her palms sweaty.

"Brother Fan, this background music is so creepy. It's giving me the creeps."

Jiang Fan held his paper cup, drank water, stared at the screen, and remained silent.

To be fair, Thomas is quite something.

-

Teacher He went on stage, her voice carrying a hint of caution.

"Thank you Zhang Yihan for her wonderful performance! Next, please welcome Shen Nian with a round of applause!"

The lights went out again.

This time it's more thorough than the last.

It was so dark you couldn't see your hand in front of your face, except for the faint green glow of the exit sign.

From the audience seats, they could only vaguely see a dark figure on the stage.

I couldn't see the clothes clearly, nor could I make out the face.

"Smack."

A beam of light fell down.

Blood red.

The beam of light struck precisely in the center of the stage, cleaving the person out of the darkness.

The entire audience gasped.

Shen Nian stood there.

She wore a bright red wedding dress.

It's not one of those cheap theatrical costumes; it's a genuine traditional Chinese wedding dress.

The dress was made of bright red satin, with a phoenix embroidered in gold thread on the lapel, tassels hanging from the cuffs, and the hem trailing on the ground, spreading out for nearly a meter.

She wore a gold hairpin on her head, her long hair was tied up, revealing a section of her snow-white nape.

The makeup is no longer the light makeup of the past.

A touch of crimson at the corner of her eyes, bright red lips, and a dot of cinnabar between her brows.

The audience was in complete chaos.

The buzzing of discussion couldn't be suppressed.

"Isn't it supposed to be a sad occasion? Why are you wearing a wedding dress?"

"You must have made a mistake! This is supposed to be a happy theme!"

The live stream chat was buzzing with comments—

【？？？？？】

What's wrong with the production team? Did they put the wrong clothes on you?

A bright red wedding dress paired with tragedy? What kind of logic is this? I completely don't understand.

[Don't rush, this is a Jiang Fan production, just wait and see.]

In the backstage dressing room, Zhou Yutong's mouth was agape, and she couldn't close it for a long time.

"This...this is the clothing from that bag?"

Jiang Fan threw the paper cup into the trash can, put his hands in his pockets, and kept his eyes on the monitor.

The girl in red on the screen stood motionless in the center of the stage.

His facial expression was empty, lifeless, and desolate.

This expression was completely at odds with the festive wedding dress she was wearing.

On the mentor's seat, Tang Yingxue frowned.

Jay Chou turned his head and said something to Peter Chan, but Peter Chan shook his head; he didn't understand either.

On the stage.

Shen Nian clasped her hands together in front of her, her eyelids lowered.

Quiet.

The red light stretched her shadow long, casting it onto the black curtain behind her.

Five seconds.

ten seconds.

The audience began to feel uneasy.

The concert hasn't even started yet, but it already feels a bit creepy.

An indescribable sense of unease spread through the venue.

The large screen behind us slowly lit up, displaying a huge character.

"囍" (double happiness).

The music is ringing.

It is an erhu.

The first note of the bowstring being drawn was sharp and piercing, like a fingernail scraping against glass.

A third of the people in the audience got goosebumps.

Immediately afterwards, the sounds of pipa, guqin, and clapper intertwined.

Shen Nian raised her head.

He walked to the microphone stand and reached out to take the microphone.

Her movements were extremely slow, and the hem of her skirt dragged on the ground with a soft rustling sound.

He held the microphone to his mouth.

The first sentence spoken.

"The eighteenth day of the first lunar month, an auspicious day, sorghum is being carried—"

"Raise the red dress, each foot a measure of sorrow, hastily tailored—"

This is a fusion of traditional Chinese opera singing with popular music. Others have tried it before, but most of them ended up looking awkward and out of place.

Wait, that's not the point!!!

January 18th? An auspicious day according to the Chinese calendar?

For viewers familiar with folk customs, a chill ran from their feet to the top of their heads.

Someone couldn't help but scream.

This "囍" (double happiness) is a ghost marriage.

The live stream chat was instantly flooded with fear.

[Holy crap! The 18th day of the first lunar month is an unlucky day! You can't get married on that day!]

[A ghost marriage! This is a ghost marriage!]

[I'm so tired, listening to this in the middle of the night, I'm too scared to go to the bathroom!]

[Jiang Fan, you're insane! You call this tragedy? This is hell!]

Help! That erhu playing is driving me crazy!

Shen Nian completely immersed herself in the song.

She raised her hand, making delicate, orchid-like gestures, her eyes filled with sorrow.

The next second, the drum sounded.

The music suddenly became rapid.

Shen Nian suddenly looked up, her eyes fixed on the audience below.

"Listen, at dawn, something will happen three miles away—"

"The tones of the zither rise, the sound of horses' hooves gradually emerges, cutting away the sorrowful words—"

"No sooner said than done, the door was pushed open, and the fog came in on its own—"

"But he ignored it, and who would ignore it—"

"Just now, that official laughed—"

The audience members were so shocked they swallowed hard.

In the backstage dressing room, Zhou Yutong shrank into the corner of the sofa, covering half of her face with a cushion, not daring to look at the screen.

"Brother Fan... weren't you scared when you wrote this song?"

On the screen, Shen Nian's voice turned into a murmur, carrying an eerie and tragic beauty.

"The official pondered this for a long time with amusement—"

"Only a soft groan escapes, bringing forth the sorrow of parting—"

The tempo is getting faster and faster.

"She cried while laughing—"

"Guess why she was laughing and crying at the same time—"

"Look at her, she's crying and laughing at the same time—"

Just then.

The sound of suona horns rang out.

The high-pitched, sharp, and piercing sound of the suona resounded throughout the entire venue.

Of all musical instruments, the suona reigns supreme.

It's either ascension to heaven or a wedding ceremony.

At that moment, everyone in the thousand-person group stopped breathing.

"Bowing to Heaven and Earth—"

"Bowing to the parents twice—"

"Husband and wife bow to each other—"

On the judges' panel, Jay Chou jumped up from his chair.

Tang Yingxue leaned back in her chair, her lips pressed tightly together, staring in disbelief at the scene before her.

Shen Nian twirled in the red light, her skirt sweeping across the ground, the golden threads flickering in the light.

Her voice rose and fell, sometimes like the gentle murmur of a new bride, sometimes like the mournful wails of a ghost—

The two voices can be seamlessly switched within the same person.

Some people in the audience started to cry. They were moved by the extreme sorrow.

The number of viewers in the live stream jumped from 23 million to 36 million.

The barrage of comments was so fast that the individual messages were no longer visible; all you could see was a blur of white text scrolling upwards.

[Can you please stop playing this song in the middle of the night?! It woke my roommate up!]

Chinese folk music is just that awesome, no arguments allowed!

To put it bluntly—this isn't a matchup between two teams of the same caliber.

Shen Nian's voice gradually subsided, returning to its initial low, hoarse murmur.

"The eighteenth day of the first lunar month, this is an auspicious day—"

"The eighteenth day of the first lunar month, this is an auspicious day—"

The sound stopped here.

Her lips closed, and a tear slid down from the corner of her left eye, landing on the lapel of her bright red wedding dress.

The entire venue went black.

All the lights went out in the same second.

In the darkness, only the lingering echo of the suona horn lingered in the stadium's dome, refusing to dissipate for a long time.