A song called "The You of the Past" has prompted the entire internet to beg me not to leav

That afternoon, after having dinner at his father-in-law's house, Lin Yan was dragged by Shen Qingqiu to the top-floor recording studio of the entertainment group headquarters where he didn't want to work.

Shen Qingqiu was well aware of the immense and devastating impact that the release of "Red-Clad Lament" would have on the market.

As a Mandopop queen, she even considered personally performing the stunning Peking Opera-style vocals in the chorus.

But Lin Yan refused.

"The underlying tone of this song is tragic and poignant."

Lin Yan slapped the sheet of Xuan paper with the musical score on the music stand, his tone casual yet revealing an undeniable professionalism.

"Your voice is too clean and ethereal; it can't capture the profound sense of loss and the poignant emotion of actors sacrificing their lives for their country before its collapse."

He didn't call for the sound engineer; he simply pushed the master fader on, stepped into the recording studio, and put on his monitoring headphones.

This is a masterpiece that doesn't need any auto-tuning at all.

It was exactly 3 p.m.

The official Weibo account of the "Don't Want to Go to Work" entertainment group and major music platforms released a single in an extremely quiet manner without any pre-release posters or promotional press releases.

Singer credit: Lin Yan.

This extremely low-key move was like dropping a nuclear bomb with a yield of 10,000 tons directly into a calm, deep lake.

Just over half a year ago, Lin Yangang arrogantly announced on his Weibo account, "I'm retired, and I'll be washing dishes at home."

Even if 30 million netizens across the internet crowdfunded 100 million yuan to invite him to make a comeback, even if Hollywood banged on his door with a 50 million dollar check, this guy remained unmoved.

He actually released a song today?!

Three seconds after the single was released, a vertical red line appeared on Weibo's backend traffic monitoring curve.

Immediately afterwards, tens of millions of netizens' mobile phones froze simultaneously, and the screens all displayed a "502 Bad Gateway" crash message.

Weibo has cracked.

Countless netizens, hearing rumors, refreshed the page frantically with tears in their eyes and gritted teeth, forcibly entering the comment section of Tencent Music.

"Holy crap! Lin Shen has come back to life! Have you finally finished washing your dishes?!"

"Grandpa! The Pigeon King you follow has updated!"

"My hands are shaking so much I can't press play! Is it really Lin Yan singing? I didn't press the wrong button, did I?!"

"I'll listen to the vendors selling sunflower seeds and bottled water in the front row, just in case!"

Click to play.

Without any overpowering prelude or lengthy build-up, the clean and clear piano tone, accompanied by a poignant erhu note, immediately sets the stage.

Lin Yan's unique voice, with its rough texture and deep, weathered quality, flowed slowly through tens of millions of headphones, touching the eardrums of countless people.

"In the play, the water sleeves rise and fall"

Singing of joys and sorrows, of partings and reunions, is none of my business.

The fan opens and closes, the gongs and drums sound and then fall silent.

Who can judge the emotions in the play from outside the play?

In the verses, Lin Yan deliberately suppressed the urge to show off her skills, using an extremely restrained pop singing style, like a world-weary observer quietly recounting a dusty era.

The netizens who were originally making crazy jokes in the barrage comments unconsciously had their emotions paused by this somber narration.

The lyrics evoke vivid imagery: a desolate old stage and a self-absorbed actor leap off the page.

"In times of chaos, like duckweed, I can only watch as flames of war engulf the land."

位卑未敢忘忧国

Even if no one knows me…

When this line was uttered, the real-time comments on Penguin Music experienced an extremely bizarre five-second freeze.

Immediately afterwards, a dense barrage of comments exploded like an avalanche, completely filling the screen!

"It gives me goosebumps! That's an amazing phrase!"

"Though lowly in rank, I dare not forget my duty to the nation..." This gives me goosebumps. Lin Yan's lyrics are so brilliant they've practically pierced the ceiling!

The song steadily progresses to the chorus, which is also the critical point where the emotions of the whole song explode.

Without warning, Lin Yan's voice suddenly changed!

From a deep and melancholic pop male voice, it seamlessly transitioned into a stunningly beautiful Qingyi opera vocal style!

"The audience walked by, their faces no longer visible..."

This opera singing style, with its extremely strong sense of tearing and tragedy, soars high and strikes straight into the depths of the soul!

The ancient-style melody blends perfectly with the singing style of traditional opera, like a rusty but heavy iron hammer, shattering everyone's preconceived notions about "pop music" and "traditional opera".

"On stage, someone is singing a heartbreaking farewell song."

The word "love" is hard to put into words.

She sang that blood must be shed to win.

"The curtain rises and falls, who is the guest?"

As the mournful operatic aria rose in pitch, countless office workers and students listening to music with headphones in their dormitories felt their eyes well up with tears that instantly flowed uncontrollably.

In the latter half of the song, Lin Yan boldly added heavy symphonic drumbeats, creating an extremely powerful auditory impact against the thin and melancholic opera vocals.

It makes you feel as if you have really traveled through time and space, and are in that era of war, watching with your own eyes the peerless star on the stage, gritting his teeth and insisting on singing the last line of the tragic song intertwined with blood and tears, under the enemy's long guns and short cannons.

Ten minutes later.

The film "Red-Haired Girl" suddenly topped the Weibo hot search list.

The comments section of a single on Tencent Music surged past 500,000 in just ten minutes, shattering all previous records for comment growth in Chinese music history!

This is no longer a simple song; it's an overwhelming and unreasonable cultural export.

In just three minutes, Lin Yan forcibly dragged tens of millions of young souls who disdained traditional opera into that old opera house covered in moss and dried up with blood.

……

Beijing, the staff quarters of the Huaxia Drama Academy.

Qi Baohua, an 85-year-old Peking Opera master and the only successor of the Mei School of Peking Opera, is sitting in a grand chair with his eyes closed, slowly twirling a purple clay teapot in his hands.

"Master! Master! Please listen to this!"

Qi Lao's eldest apprentice, Zhao Gang, a national first-class actor, rushed into the room without knocking, carrying a tablet computer, and panted heavily as he directly pressed the play button for "Red-Clad Actress".

Old Master Qi frowned, about to reprimand his apprentice for his recklessness and lack of decorum.

But when that opera-style vocal line blasted from the flat-panel speaker, the old man's hand holding the purple clay teapot froze.

He stared intently at the screen, his withered lips trembling uncontrollably, his face, already marked by the passage of time, flushed red with extreme excitement, and his chest heaving violently.

When he heard the poignant ending of the final chorus, this titan, who had remained steadfast his entire life, burst into tears, which streamed down his deeply lined cheeks and fell in large drops onto his dark blue mandarin jacket.

"Okay...okay! Great!!"

The old man suddenly stood up, grabbed Zhao Gang's arm tightly, and his voice was hoarse and split due to extreme excitement.

"Who is singing this? The vibrato in that opera style, the resonance in that chest, the spirit etched into the very bones of those lyrics! Which ancestor has appeared before us?!"

"Master, he... he's not an opera singer..." Zhao Gang swallowed hard. "His name is Lin Yan, he sings pop songs, and... he also works as a director..."

"I don't care what he does!" Old Qi slammed his hand heavily on the table, making the lid of the purple clay teapot rattle and clatter.

"Book me a plane ticket! Immediately! Right now! I'm going to Xinghai City! This old man is going to see this gentleman in person today. Even if it means losing face, I have to thank him on behalf of our opera troupe for opening up this new path for opera!"

……

The next morning, at a villa on a hillside in Xinghai City.

Lin Yan was leisurely watering the flowers in the yard.

"Life is so comfortable. It would be even more perfect with some roasted lamb chops for lunch," Lin Yan muttered to himself, yawning contentedly.

Just then, a chaotic commotion suddenly came from the large iron gate outside the villa.

Lin Yan peered over the railing and his eyelids twitched suddenly.

Seven or eight cars completely blocked the road in front of the house. The car doors opened with a clatter, and more than a dozen people dressed in black Chinese-style jackets filed out.

Leading the way was a sprightly old man with a full head of white hair.

The old man had just stepped outside the iron gate when, without hesitation, he knelt down on one knee with a thud, clasped his hands in a fist, and spoke in a loud, resonant voice that echoed through the valley:

"Qi Baohua, a successor of the Mei School of Peking Opera, along with eighteen disciples from the opera world, have come to pay a visit to Mr. Lin Yan! We humbly request that you accept us as your disciples and guide us in the integration of opera and traditional opera!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the dozen or so people behind him clasped their hands in unison and bowed deeply, their voices booming: "We beg Mr. Lin to accept us as his disciples!"

If you said this scene was a martial arts sect coming to challenge a martial arts school, or a gang electing a leader, people would believe it!

The water hose in Lin Yan's hand fell onto the lawn with a "plop," and water sprayed upwards, splashing all over his trouser leg.

He stared dumbfounded at the group of opera masters outside the door, whose combined age could reach a thousand years, and felt a chill run down his spine.

What's going on?

Are they going to put him on the altar and treat him like a patriarch?!

Lin Yan's eyes darted around frantically. Glancing at his feet, he grabbed a large pair of garden shears and held them directly in his face. He deliberately lowered his voice and shouted in a thick, heavy Northeastern accent:

"Oh my god, sir, you've got the wrong place! Lin Yan isn't home! I'm here to fix the water pipes!"

After saying that, Lin Yan, feeling guilty, dropped the scissors and scrambled into the villa, locking the door shut with a "click".

"Honey! Pack your things! Take the dog! We have to run!"