Just because I wrote "Zhu Xian," the school beauty sent me razor blades.

Inside the Royal Albert Hall.

The draw results were displayed on the giant screen, clearly showing the order of the eight initial singers. Several of the top-tier Western singers took to the stage one after another, and the competition immediately descended into a battle of high notes.

First up was Eric, a tenor of European national theater caliber. He performed a classical symphonic pop piece that, despite its alterations, transformed the pop stage into one with the solemnity of the Royal Opera House. His resounding high Cs shattered the entire audience, prompting the 500 audience members to rise and cheer. The live chat was flooded with comments like "The national team's performance is a game-changer!"

Next up was North American pop diva Christina Aguilera. The entire venue was transformed into a sky full of stars. With her extremely solid vocal control and highly infectious live performance, her hit single had the whole audience singing along.

Backstage in the singers' dressing room, a huge LCD screen was transmitting live footage of the stage.

When Christina returned to the dressing room after her performance, fine beads of sweat still clung to her forehead. Several other European and American singers stood up to congratulate her, creating a lively atmosphere tinged with an undercurrent of competition.

"That's insane! Eric's voice almost blew my ceiling off!" Rock veteran David leaned back on the sofa, a lollipop dangling from his mouth, and half-jokingly said, "I originally thought I was here to compete, but judging from this, I might be here to be cannon fodder."

Christina took the bottled water her assistant handed her, took a sip, then turned to Lin Yuan, who had been sitting in the corner, her eyes sparkling as she leaned closer: "Mr. Lin, judging from the way the previous guests are acting, the high-pitched voice threshold of the 500 audience members has been pushed to its limit. Are you feeling a lot of pressure when you go on stage later? Do you need some nitroglycerin pills?"

"No need for the heart medicine." Lin Yuan held a thermos in his hand, lifted the lid and blew on the steam, looking as relaxed as if he were watching TV in his own living room. "I have excellent mental fortitude; usually, it's others who need to take medicine."

Christina chuckled at Lin Yuan's old-fashioned tea-drinking posture: "Your mentality is absolutely amazing! The online comments are all speculating whether you're going to go on stage and perform a nonsensical skit."

In the domestic broadcast studio, as viewers watched the backstage camera cut to Lin Yuan blowing on his thermos, the comment section erupted in cheers:

"I'm dying of laughter! All the foreigners are backstage, rubbing their hands together and warming up, while Lin's dad is just sitting there drinking hot water! Is this the composure of the mysterious power of the East?"

"Eric's shout just now almost deafened my headphones; those foreigners' high notes are really powerful! Lin's dad is coming on stage next; what kind of killer move has he prepared?"

"Christina's performance was absolutely amazing! If Lin's rendition is too gentle, he'll definitely be at a disadvantage live! With the competition format being all English songs, he can't choose a niche, slow song that's too obscure!"

"On foreign online forums, everyone's betting on where Lin's dad will get in the first round. He's ranked last on the odds list, and foreign netizens are all saying 'The tourist is about to take the stage!'"

Amidst the heated discussions online, the performances by four singers in a row propelled the stage's scores and charisma to their peak. The audience in the studio and the hundreds of millions of viewers watching on camera were thoroughly captivated.

However, Lin Yuan, sitting backstage, gradually became serious.

He ignored the undercurrents of probing and discussion around him, his thoughts already drifting to the music library deep within his mind. Facing these top Western singers accustomed to high-pitched bombardments and vocal pressure battles, competing in vocal range and vocal pressure was certainly a viable strategy, but far from the optimal solution.

Tonight, the song he chose is called "NUMB".

In his previous life, this hit song came from the talented hip-hop artist XXXTentacion, who died young at the age of twenty in a shooting incident.

He was a legendary young man whose life was filled with detention, fights, and depression, yet in his short four-year music career, he revolutionized the field of emo rap with his exceptionally gifted intuition. Listening to his songs, one could almost hear the heart torn apart by a bleak world, a heart both desolate and intensely real.

"NUMB" takes this pain and lamentation to the extreme.

It doesn't need dazzling vocal techniques or lengthy build-ups. With the powerful roar of the 808 drums, the heavy thuds of the distorted bass, and the deep bass, the entire song is filled with a sense of precarious despair. That gradual numbness amidst pain, the chilling struggle enveloped by a bleak world, is an emotional blow that strikes directly into the depths of the human soul!

"To move the audience with pure vocal technique is called performance, but to tear the world apart with emotions that strike straight to the heart... that's called music," Lin Yuan murmured to himself. He wanted to bring these top Western music stars, who thought he was just a "cross-border tourist," an unprecedented emotional shock.

Just then, the loudspeaker at the entrance of the lounge suddenly blared:

"Please welcome the fifth contestant, Lin Yuan, to the stage preparation area!"

As the broadcast ended, the previously noisy singers' dressing room fell silent for half a second.

Rock veteran David looked up at Lin Yuan, his eyes filled with anticipation and curiosity; Eric crossed his arms slightly, a professional, polite smile playing on his lips; Christina gave a "go for it" gesture and whispered, "Go for it, Mr. Lin!"

Lin Yuan slowly stood up, handed the thermos cup in his hand to his assistant, and casually straightened his suit collar.

In the domestic live stream, the number of viewers surged exponentially in an instant, and the barrage of comments almost completely obscured the screen.

"Here he comes! Father Lin is about to make his appearance!"

"Everyone on the internet, stand up! Make way for the Pope of Eastern Cinema... oh wait, I mean, for the Heartless Songwriting Machine of the East!"

"The foreigners are still discussing whether Lin's father is here for sightseeing. They'd better keep their eyes wide open, or they'll end up crying and begging for a cure!"

The lights in the center of the stage suddenly went out.

Host Anthony stepped into the beam of light, a mysterious yet solemn smile on his face, and announced loudly to the entire audience and global live broadcast studios in his magnetic voice:

"The next singer to take the stage has already reached the pinnacle of his career in film and literature. And tonight, he will use music to reintroduce himself to the world—"

Anthony abruptly pointed to the slowly opening doors of light and shadow behind him, the sound reverberating throughout the Royal Albert Hall:

"Please welcome the next contestant—Lin Yuan!"