The song "The Actor" at the beginning stunned me with its portrayal of the aloof school be

Jiang Che's fingers moved.

The first note fell.

The ancient charm flowed from that instrument, slowly spreading throughout the entire venue.

The prelude is extremely quiet.

Unhurried and unhurried, like the moon slowly peeking out from behind the clouds.

The tone was clean, with a cool, moist quality. As it entered the ear, it instantly transported one to a moonlit night with water and old friends.

Follow the second note, then the third note.

There is just the right amount of space between the notes; in that space, it seems as if the wind is blowing through the bamboo forest and the water is lapping against the stone bank.

This is the most difficult aspect of traditional Chinese style: the skill of leaving blank spaces.

Jiang Che had a firm grasp of the situation.

Then, Jiang Che spoke.

"Moonlight color, feminine fragrance"

"Tears break the sword, how long does love last?"

"How painful it is, words cannot describe."

"Forgot you"

The verses unfold slowly.

His opening was still restrained, just like his audition performance of "The Wind Rises," the first half of which was quiet and unassuming, without any showing off of his skills.

An ancient quality gradually settled in his voice, becoming clean and steady.

But here's where the problem lies.

The ears of this year's audience have long been accustomed to the high-pitched, powerful vocals from the previous shows.

In their minds, the stage should be explosive, and every opening statement should be accompanied by a powerful voice.

Jiang Che's slow and leisurely opening tone was once again misinterpreted by them as "not good".

In the live chat, a few pessimistic comments began to emerge.

"That's it? You're going to spread it out slowly again? Are you sure you can handle it?"

"The traditional Chinese style sounds appealing, but why do I feel a little sleepy?"

"You won the first two songs by playing it safe, are you going to try the same trick again this time?"

"Don't let it all sound like a lot of noise but little action."

Several audience members whispered among themselves, a hint of disappointment on their faces.

See it.

Chinese style is indeed Chinese style.

This time, I'm afraid I'm really going to fail.

A girl in the front row whispered to her companion, saying that after so long, there wasn't even a memorable spot.

His companion nodded, picked up his phone, and started scrolling again.

On the other side, some people gently shook their heads, feeling that the song started too dull and couldn't live up to the title of the main event.

Disappointment quietly spread around the corner area.

The guy with the buzz cut in the center even whispered something to his companion.

"That's how it is; it intimidates people at first, but it will collapse in the end."

……

What's more damaging than the pessimistic views from the audience is the skepticism from the professional level.

This traditional Chinese style sounds really good, that's for sure.

But is this flavor truly authentic, or just a superficial patchwork?

On the judging panel, the sharp-tongued producer frowned deeply.

He has been making music for twenty years, and the number of pseudo-traditional Chinese music pieces he has heard could fill an entire room.

Those songs have a superficial ancient style, a few ethnic musical instruments, and a few obscure words, but the content is terrible and cannot stand up to scrutiny.

It sounds impressive, but when you take it apart, it's all just for show.

He remembered it all too clearly: there was a type of work where the very first note, with its antique and elegant style, would elicit cheers and applause from the entire audience.

But once the melody fades, the essence is revealed: it's all just popular formulas in a new guise.

He immediately slapped it back.

So this time, he was extra vigilant.

He stared at the stage, his fingers resting on the edge of the table, hesitant to make a judgment.

Even the three mentors held their breath at this moment.

As they were drawn inside by the atmosphere, they also kept their ears perked up with vigilance.

They've seen far too many glamorous empty shells.

Before understanding the core structure of the song, no one dares to draw any conclusions.

Qin Lie's gaze darkened, and he remained motionless.

Shen Yan's fingers tapped lightly on the table, following the rhythm of the melody.

Cheng Xue leaned forward slightly, her brows furrowing and relaxing intermittently.

Lin Wei, standing to the side of the stage, watched all of this with a cold eye.

Looking at the solemn expressions on her mentors' faces, that little bit of expectation in her heart resurfaced.

They can't hold on any longer.

You can't handle this song, can you?

……

However, those who truly understand the industry couldn't sit still.

Lin Xier, who was in the guest seats, sat up abruptly before the first verse was even finished.

Others are asking whether it's going to explode or not.

She was listening to the root.

The ancient charm of this song comes from the very core of its being.

It didn't just slap a few ethnic elements onto a trendy shell.

Its melody itself carries an oriental sense of breath, and its structure and transitions all subtly conform to the rules of ancient music.

What's even more frightening is the mismatch between the lyrics and the music.

Every word landed perfectly on every sound, fitting together seamlessly without the slightest awkwardness.

This kind of writing style could never have been created by simply copying and pasting.

Its instrumentation is also restrained, without piling on all the traditional ethnic musical instruments at once.

It should ring where it should ring, and stop where it should stop, as clean as a blank ink painting.

The more Lin Xi'er listened, the more alarmed she became.

This is real skill.

Lin Xi'er's heart began to race once again.

She subconsciously turned her head to look at the seasoned judges next to the mentors' panel, who had truly seen countless pieces of music.

Then she noticed that the veteran judges had also stopped writing.

Someone put down their pen and leaned forward slightly.

Some people closed their eyes and nodded gently in sync with the melody.

Someone turned and whispered something to the person next to them, and the other person nodded solemnly.

They could tell too.

This traditional Chinese style is genuine.

An elderly judge with gray hair put down his pen, leaned forward, and stared intently into his eyes.

He's been in this industry his whole life, and he can count the truly outstanding original works of traditional Chinese style on one hand.

Today's song sounds like it's trying to squeeze into that list.

But he didn't dare to rush to a conclusion.

The success or failure of a traditional Chinese style song often hinges on the chorus.

No matter how well the opening sequence is built, if the chorus doesn't hold up, all the previous efforts will be wasted.

He was waiting for that one sentence.

To laymen, skepticism is simply "sleepiness."

For them, it became a premonition weighing on their hearts.

The good show is yet to come.

……

A lonely soul, drifting with the wind.

"Who cares, the lovelorn man?"

"In this battlefield of mortal life, among thousands of troops, who can claim the title of king?"

The song continues to the end of the verse.

Changes are coming.

The originally smooth and flowing melody lines suddenly became strange and tangled.

Each musical note seemed to be twisted into a rope, spiraling, sinking, and then flipping upwards.

It's like an undercurrent gathering beneath a calm surface.

Lin Xi'er's breath hitched.

She had a vague premonition that an extremely unusual musical phrase was approaching everyone.

That was a deadly musical phrase.

Judging from this intertwined melodic line, once that phrase explodes, its impact will be immense.

She could even sense that there was something extremely difficult to handle in that line, something that ordinary singers wouldn't dare to touch.

But it came too quickly, the melody giving her no time to think it over.

She could only stare intently at the stage, her palms clenched until they were sweaty.

……

In the dormitory live-streaming room.

Amidst a screen full of sleepy and dismissive comments, Wang Haoran was the most composed player on the field.

He gritted his teeth and frantically spammed the comments section.

"Just wait!"

"He hasn't even gotten serious yet!"

"This is a padding in front; my brother always strikes after the opponent has made their move!"

"Once the chorus starts, let's see how you guys take back what you just said!"

His voice, which was meant to be a promotional message, was once again drowned out by a barrage of negative comments.

But he remained completely calm.

The scene from the school anniversary celebration and the audition was still vividly etched in his mind.

Every time, it starts like this.

Every time, a group of people are waiting to see the joke.

Each time, the entire audience stood up.

This time, he didn't even bother to panic.

He even felt a little sorry for those people trying to stay awake.

These people will probably line up to slap themselves in the face later.

He picked up his soda, completely at ease.

He had even raised his phone, pointing it at the screen, ready to record the moment these people were proven wrong.

……

on the stage.

Jiang Che's breathing tightened subtly.

The music subsided, and the air in the entire venue suddenly became extremely tense.

Everyone vaguely sensed that something big was about to happen.

The sharp-tongued producer instinctively sat up straight.

Qin Lie opened his eyes.

Lin Xi'er stopped breathing.

The entire audience held their breath.

The power that had been building up for an entire verse reached its peak.

Doubt and unease were intertwined, putting everyone on edge.

Just one sentence short.

Only the last sentence is missing.

The real test is about to begin.