Don't call me a singing god, I just want to go back to doing scientific research.

"I try to smile, try to fit in, and try to look 'normal.' My friends say I'm cheerful and funny, the life of the party. But they don't know that every time a lively party ends and I go back to my room alone, I feel like I'm about to be swallowed by darkness."

"This feeling is strange; I can't describe it."

"I've seen doctors and taken medication. Sometimes it gets a little better, sometimes... it gets worse."

"I'm writing this story not to elicit sympathy, nor to peddle anxiety. I just... just want to take this small opportunity to express my thoughts..."

"I really want to see this world."

You Hongchang finished reading.

He closed the cue cards and remained silent for a long time.

The entire venue was deathly silent.

The atmosphere, which had been warm and lively just moments before, instantly turned heavy.

Everyone fell silent.

The smiles on the singers' faces had long since vanished.

This is no longer a "story".

These are faint cries for help from the abyss.

Viewers in the live stream saw this story and left encouraging messages.

[Good luck to the person sharing this story!]

[Keep it up! I hope all the teachers will take this story seriously, because I feel the same way.]

Yes, but I want to say, my friend, please wait a little longer, you really need to wait a little longer.

At the scene, the singer and songwriter remained silent for a moment before whispering:

"Oh my god..."

Qin Hanwen frowned deeply and shook his head: "This... is too depressing."

"Yes," Nan Ye'an echoed in a low voice, "This kind of subject matter is too difficult to handle. Every word of the lyrics has to be carefully chosen. If you're not careful, it will turn into preaching, or worse, into pointless whining, which would be a secondary injury to the protagonist of the story."

"Besides... who would listen to this song? It's too depressing."

"I feel like choosing this option will put me at a disadvantage in the competition; it's not popular at all."

The murmurs below were not loud, but they were very clear.

People sympathize with the protagonist of the story, but as creators, they instinctively sensed the thorny and dangerous nature of this subject matter.

This is a hot potato.

No one dared to accept it.

Yu Hongchang noticed everyone's predicament. He sighed and was about to say something to smooth things over.

Amidst this discussion and silence...

  

A hand slowly rose up under the light.

Swah——

Everyone's attention was instantly drawn to it.

It was as if a spotlight had been shone on that person.

Ling Luo?

He remained seated, calm, with his hand raised and his gaze fixed on You Hongchang on the stage.

"I choose this one."

His voice wasn't loud, but in the silence, it clearly reached everyone's ears.

Four words, clear and firm.

With a loud "boom".

The scene erupted into chaos.

The entire audience erupted in uproar!

The live stream chat room erupted in excitement.

What? Ling Luo chose that?

[Is he crazy? Wasn't his first stage performance a sweet little song? Why did he choose this?]

So, is Teacher Luomu going to release another depressing song? I'm really looking forward to it.

[To the friend who wrote this story, did you see this? Teacher Luo Mu has chosen it.]

[Upstairs, I'm bumping this up; I hope the protagonist of this story sees it.]

You Hongchang was completely stunned. He subconsciously took a step forward and asked, "Teacher Ling, are you... are you sure you want to choose story number seven?"

"I'm sure."

Ling Luo nodded and lowered her hand.

Yu Hongchang's face was filled with disbelief: "But, Teacher Ling, I must remind you. This story is very negative in tone, profound in its message, and extremely difficult to create. Moreover... from a market perspective, its popularity may be somewhat limited."

However, Ling Luo simply smiled faintly.

"It's okay."

He doesn't care.

No one understands that feeling better than him.

Holding a black sun.

Multiple images.

How desperate.

Many...familiar.

He wanted to pull this person back, just as Gu Yang had pulled him back.

Just as he was lost in thought.

Suddenly, I felt a warm touch on my back.

Even through the thin fabric of the shirt, the warmth was clearly transmitted.

Therefore, Yang's palm.

There was no force, no patting, no soothing; it was just a gentle, steady touch against his back.

Support his back as he tried to bend over.

Ling Luo's shoulders, which had been tense all night, seemed to have finally found a foothold and could get a brief moment of relaxation.

The hand that was secretly hidden under the seat clenched tightly.

Ling Luo turned her head slightly, looked into Gu Yang's worried eyes, and said softly, "I'm fine."

"Hmm." Gu Yang neither withdrew his hand nor said anything, but simply stayed quietly by his side.

After everyone had chosen their themes, You Hongchang announced the competition rules.

"All the songs have been selected. The teachers only have one week to create them. Next week at the same time, the songs selected for this story will be performed on this stage."

"To ensure fairness and impartiality, we will assign each teacher a cameraman who will follow and film them throughout the process. Of course, if there are any privacy concerns, the teachers can discuss them with the cameraman. Also, our program will follow and film without broadcasting; the filming will only be used for archiving evidence. The program has also invited three national regulatory officials to ensure the authenticity of the filming throughout the process."

After meeting with the three supervisors, You Hongchang announced: "The opening ceremony of this session of 'New Voice Creation Camp' has come to an end. Thank you to Tomato Novel Network, Junshan Mineral Water... for sponsoring the broadcast. Now, please leave the stage in an orderly manner."

Ling Luo stood up, put the microphone down, shook hands with each of the other teachers, exchanged contact information, and then left with her singer.

Behind him was a cameraman.

After watching all the singers get into the car, Ling Luo turned around and took Gu Yang's hand in hers.

Completely ignoring the cameraman behind her whose lens was trembling.

"Brother Mingjun, I'm sorry to have kept you waiting." Gu Yang started talking as soon as he got into the car.

He was so frustrated by the show that he wanted to speak but didn't dare to say it out loud.

"Soon, Mr. Ling, I'll go in with you next time."

Waiting outside was a bit nerve-wracking, but thankfully there was no audience at the show; it was just creators, singers, and the production crew.

Ling Luo nodded without hesitation: "Sure, I was thinking you'd be bored inside, so if you want to come along, that's fine."

After he finished speaking, the atmosphere inside the car became somewhat awkward.

Mingjun focused on driving, glancing at the car every now and then through the rearview mirror.

Since getting on the bus, Yang had been holding Lingluo's hand.

He didn't speak.

Just holding on.

The force wasn't great, but it was so stubborn, as if it wanted to meld the other person into its very bones.

Ling Luo didn't struggle and let him hold her.

With his other hand, he gently patted Gu Yang's back intermittently.

It's like comforting a large dog that's startled but trying to appear calm.

"Um..." Mingjun cleared his throat, breaking the silence, "Are you guys going straight home? Or are you going to grab some late-night snacks?"

"go home."

"go home."

Two voices, speaking in unison.