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

Three days later, at 8 PM.

The 15th Asian Cultural and Arts Festival grandly opened at the Bird's Nest Stadium in Beijing.

As the highest-level official cultural exchange event in Asia, it was broadcast live by media outlets from over sixty countries. Meanwhile, the Asian internet was already in an uproar.

On Twitter and YouTube live streams, Japanese and Korean netizens flooded the screen with comments, almost obscuring the view.

"What will China bring to the show? Their same old lovey-dovey pop songs?"

"Kim Tae-woo from South Korea is the real god today! I heard that China found a retired male singer to come up with this song at home, it's hilarious."

"With the talent of Heisei era diva Miho Watanabe, Chinese pop music has no power whatsoever."

Domestic netizens were frustrated and furious, furiously typing away at their keyboards in response. But since they hadn't seen the scene in person, they couldn't help feeling uneasy.

Lin Yan had indeed been resting for more than half a year, and he had never encountered such a grand narrative piece at the national team level before.

It's exactly eight o'clock.

The countdown holographic projection above the Bird's Nest instantly returned to zero.

The lights in all 100,000 seats were suddenly cut off, plunging the venue into deathly darkness.

"Thump."

A deep, resonant chime, carried by the booming sound of the top-of-the-line audio system, struck everyone's eardrums with a powerful thud. It was like an echo of history reverberating from bronze artifacts thousands of years ago.

The previously noisy live stream chat was instantly cleared out.

Immediately afterwards, a beam of extremely bright scarlet spotlight slashed down on the center of the stage like a sharp sword.

Shen Qingqiu stepped out into the light.

She wore a bright red gown with pure handmade Suzhou embroidery, and the flying apsara totem made of gold thread on the floor-length skirt shone brightly.

Her long hair was tied up high, with a red-gold filigree hairpin inserted diagonally. She was stunningly beautiful and cold, just like an Eastern empress who stepped out of the Dunhuang murals.

There were no unnecessary small talk or pleasantries.

Shen Qingqiu raised the microphone with one hand.

The next second, the prelude of war drums suddenly pounded like a torrential downpour! The deep roar of the cello and the chilling sound of the guzheng clashed wildly together, creating an overwhelming sense of oppression that swept across the entire venue.

"In the beginning of time, the mountains and rivers were one."

"Watch the winds of change sweep across the land, who will rise and who will fall!"

In the verses, Shen Qingqiu, with her signature ethereal voice, commanded the massive arrangement with remarkable composure. Every word was enunciated with extreme emphasis, her breath seemingly bottomless.

In the area below the stage where the Japanese and South Korean delegations were located, the expressions of Kim Tae-woo and others gradually froze.

This magnificent and epic arrangement was completely beyond their professional understanding.

However, the real killer move has only just begun.

The magnificent orchestral accompaniment suddenly stopped, and the entire audience came to a halt!

The only sounds in the air were the extremely mournful erhu and the crisp, goosebump-inducing pipa.

Shen Qingqiu took a deep breath and tilted her head back.

"The long night breaks into dawn—"

"Our nation spans ten thousand miles, lasting for millennia!"

The extremely orthodox Qingyi opera singing style has been wildly fused with the tearing sensation of heavy metal!

This high-pitched sound, comparable to a sonic weapon, carried a tragic and invincible metallic quality, and with a deafening roar, ripped off the dome of the Bird's Nest! It directly broke through the limits of the human vocal cords!

The foreign viewers who were just jumping around in the YouTube livestream were completely dumbfounded.

"Oh my god! Is this a sound a human could make?!"

"There's a sword hidden in her throat! That high note is terrifying, it sends chills down my spine!"

"Damn it! The so-called strongest high notes in South Korea sound like duck quacking in front of this song!"

"Why are Japanese netizens silent? Miho Watanabe can sing with such power? Is this the essence of Chinese culture?!"

Chinese netizens went wild, and the barrage of comments turned the screen into a white wall.

The entire internet was cheering for Shen Qingqiu's astonishing shout.

The song ended.

As the final, resounding drumbeat faded, Shen Qingqiu calmly put away the microphone and bowed slightly.

The 100,000 audience members erupted in screams that seemed to lift the roof off.

In the VIP section, veteran artists like Li Mingchang were so excited that their faces turned red, and their palms swelled up from clapping.

Just as the entire internet was immersed in the awe of this epic performance, getting goosebumps all over.

In order to capture the shocking reaction of the VIPs present, the director precisely cut the camera to the core VIP seats in the first row.

This row of people is filled with top-level officials from various ministries in Beijing, as well as cultural representatives from various Asian countries.

Everyone was dressed in a suit and tie, sitting upright with serious expressions.

The camera pans across the scene.

Suddenly, a man who seemed completely out of place appeared right in the center of the screen.

Lin Yan wasn't wearing a suit.

He was wearing a loose gray hooded sweatshirt, lounging lazily in the large leather seat. Most strikingly, a huge stainless steel basin, filled with plump, spicy crayfish, was propped up on his lap.

At this moment, he was wearing disposable plastic gloves and was intently and deftly pulling off the shrimp head and removing the shrimp vein.

After peeling a whole shrimp tail, he carefully placed it into the delicate glass bowl next to him.

A small, bright red "mountain" of shrimp had already piled up in the bowl.

It seems to have noticed the infrared camera shooting right up to its face.

Lin Yan stopped what he was doing, looked up, and saw his own bewildered face through the large screen above him.

He paused for a second, then raised a glove stained with red oil and waved it perfunctorily at the camera.

He seemed to be mouthing something: "Don't take my picture, the shrimp won't taste good when it's cold."

This seven-second high-definition close-up shot was broadcast relentlessly to more than sixty countries across Asia via satellite signal.

The entire Asian internet network mysteriously paused for three seconds at that moment.

Then, the server nearly crashed.

"Holy crap?! That's Lin Yan?!"

"What the hell is this?! Eating crayfish in the first row of the VIP section at the Bird's Nest! Do you think this is some roadside food stall?!"

"Hahaha! This is hilarious! I thought this guy was joking about leaving the entertainment industry, but it turns out he really is going to be a full-time househusband?!"

"Case solved, everyone! That bowl of peeled shrimp was definitely prepared for Shen Qingqiu, who just stepped down from his post!"

"One second the diva wife is dominating the stage, the next second her retired husband is quietly peeling shrimp in the audience! Is this a divine contrast or a sweet romance drama?!"

The opening ceremony, which was originally extremely serious and grand, with swords clashing, was transformed in an instant by this pot of crayfish, giving it an extremely eerie sense of relaxation.

A few minutes later.

When Shen Qingqiu walked down from the back of the stage, took off his heavy coat, and returned to his seat in the VIP section.

Lin Yan handed over the small bowl of peeled shrimp meat very naturally.

"Eat it while it's hot. I sneaked into the back kitchen and couldn't find the microwave," Lin Yan said, taking off her oil-stained gloves.

Shen Qingqiu turned to look at him.

A hint of helplessness flashed across her beautiful face, then she gave him a sweet glare before picking up her chopsticks and elegantly placing a piece of shrimp into her mouth.

"It's a bit spicy."

"I know you don't like spicy food, so I got you some yogurt." Lin Yan casually unscrewed a glass bottle of yogurt and handed it over with an extremely smooth texture.

The older generation of artists, including Li Mingchang, who were sitting upright next to him, were trembling slightly with their hands holding their thermos cups, and their old faces were flushed.

A display of national pride turned into a serious cultural contest!

How did this kid manage to turn it into a massive dog slaughter scene?!