Entertainment: A song that brought his deceased wife back to life.

The F class's lounge was eerily quiet.

There were no makeup artists, no styling team, and not even a water delivery person.

In the corner of the room, three burly men in floral shirts huddled together.

Wang Dazhu touched his bald head, and the large gold chain rattled with the movement.

Li Ergou, pushing up his thick-rimmed glasses, looked as if he wanted to bury his head in his crotch.

Zhang Tiedan, who weighs 300 pounds, was holding half a bag of potato chips in his hand. He didn't know whether to eat them or not, and his fat face turned red with frustration.

Xu Qing sat quietly opposite them.

He is wiping a guitar.

The white violin cloth moved slowly and delicately between his slender fingers.

The scene is too disjointed.

On one side is the "social dance" group that looks like they could go to the market to haggle anytime.

On one side is the aloof male god who just went wild on stage.

The chat room was still flooded with comments.

How are you supposed to play this? It's like a pro player carrying three bronze players—no, three AFK players.

If Xu Qing wins this game, I'll eat my keyboard on stream.

[Hilarious! Zhang Ye next door is already popping champagne in the rehearsal room.]

Wang Dazhu simply couldn't stand the atmosphere.

He was a rough man, the kind of person that children in the village would avoid.

But at this moment, he felt inferior to Xu Qing.

"Um...Teacher Xu."

Wang Dazhu spoke, his voice trembling slightly.

Xu Qing stopped what she was doing and looked up at him.

His gaze was calm, without disdain or contempt.

This calm only made Wang Dazhu more panicked.

He rubbed his two calloused hands together, his face turning a deep purplish-red.

"We've discussed it."

Wang Dazhu gritted his teeth, as if he had made a great decision.

"We're not participating in this competition."

Li Ergou, standing next to him, nodded quickly, like a startled quail.

"Yes, yes, we'll pretend to have a stomachache, or we can pretend to have epilepsy."

"If we withdraw from the competition, according to the rules, you can sing a solo."

Zhang Tiedan finally put down the half-bag of potato chips and muttered something under his breath.

"We were just here to make up the numbers, we didn't expect to advance."

"We can't let our few pieces of rotten meat ruin your delicious soup."

Although they are uneducated, they understand the principles.

Xu Qing's powerful vocals on stage just now brought them all to tears.

That's real skill; it's the work of an artist.

where are they?

They're just a few hooligans from the village who keep playing music and have survived this long because the audience enjoys watching monkey shows.

If I were to go on stage with Xu Qing, it would be like smearing mud on his pristine white shirt.

They couldn't bear the shame, and they didn't want to ruin Xu Qing's reputation.

The room fell silent again.

Xu Qing didn't say anything.

He put down the violin cloth, got up, and walked to the water dispenser next to him.

Take out three paper cups.

Collect water.

The sound of rushing water made Wang Dazhu's heart pound.

Xu Qing returned carrying three paper cups.

Bend over.

He handed the water to the three of them.

"Drink water."

Two words, nothing more.

The three of them were dumbfounded.

They looked at the pair of long, beautiful hands in front of them, and then at the steaming paper cup.

I've never been served by such a big star in my life.

Wang Dazhu hurriedly took it, spilling water all over his hand. He grimaced from the heat but dared not cry out.

"Ms. Xu...this is unacceptable!"

Xu Qing pulled up a chair and sat down directly opposite them.

Her two long legs were stretched out casually.

Why is it called rotten meat?

Xu Qing looked into Wang Dazhu's eyes.

Wang Dazhu was stunned.

"We...we just mess around."

"What musical instruments do you play?" Xu Qing asked.

Wang Dazhu answered instinctively, "Suona".

He then pointed to Li Ergou: "He plays the erhu."

Finally, pointing to Zhang Tiedan, he said, "This fat guy is in charge of banging the gong and drum, and also the big gong."

After saying that, Wang Dazhu lowered his head again, looking ashamed.

"They're all low-class stuff."

"Usually, we're only invited to celebrate when someone in the surrounding villages dies, or when an old man gets married."

"It's different from your guitar; yours is high art."

"We are just... noise."

Xu Qing listened to the whole thing.

He leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest.

"I can't read music."

Wang Dazhu added, as if afraid Xu Qing wouldn't know how useless they were.

"All you do is make a noise, it's all just empty talk."

Just then.

A series of noisy footsteps came from outside the door.

Before you even see anyone, you can smell a strong scent of cologne.

Zhang Ye arrived with his "dream team".

Surrounded by a large entourage, this scene doesn't look like a rehearsal; it looks more like a coronation.

Zhang Ye stopped as he passed the doorway.

He glanced at the furnishings in the room.

I couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Oh, in a meeting?"

Zhang Ye leaned against the door frame, holding a bottle of Evian mineral water in his hand.

That sense of superiority was practically overflowing from every pore.

"Xu Qing, is this your new band?"

Zhang Ye pointed to the three floral shirts.

"That's a pretty unique look. Are you going to the market?"

His teammates behind him also joined in the laughter.

Li Xiu, the rapper, curled his lip and said, "Even my grandma wouldn't wear this outfit."

Wang Dazhu and the other two immediately lowered their heads even further.

That deep-seated inferiority complex made them lack even the courage to refute.

Zhang Ye took a pack of wet wipes out of his pocket.

With a snap.

It was thrown at Wang Dazhu's feet.

"Wipe your sweat."

Zhang Ye covered his nose, looking disgusted.

"Don't let Xu Qing smell bad; the whole room reeks of garlic."

"And your suona."

Zhang Ye sneered.

"Keep your voice down when you go on stage later. That thing is too noisy, or you'll send the judges away."

After saying that, Zhang Ye turned to leave.

"stop."

A voice rang out.

Not big.

But it's so cold that ice crystals fall out.

Zhang Ye paused and turned around.

Xu Qing stood up.

He didn't make any unnecessary movements.

They just stood there quietly, blocking Wang Dazhu and the others.

"Pick it up."

Xu Qing pointed to the pack of wet wipes on the ground.

Zhang Ye chuckled: "What did you say?"

I said, pick it up.

Xu Qing took a step forward.

That "mad dog" aura he had on stage just now instantly returned.

His pupils were very dark, and when he stared at someone, it sent a chill down your spine.

Zhang Ye recalled the guitar that Xu Qing had almost had its strings snapped earlier.

And that look in his eyes, like he wants to devour you.

He instinctively took a step back.

His Adam's apple bobbed.

This person is crazy.

Zhang Ye cursed inwardly, but his body language betrayed him.

He gave his assistant a wink.

The assistant quickly ran over and picked up the pack of wet wipes.

"Hmph, utterly unreasonable."

Zhang Ye, trying to save face, threw out a polite remark.

See you on stage later.

"I hope to hear your 'funeral song'."

After saying that, he led his men away in a dejected manner.

My pace quickened considerably compared to before.

Xu Qing watched their figures disappear at the end of the corridor.

He turned around.

The three men from Northeast China were looking at him with red eyes.

Wang Dazhu held the paper cup in his hand, squeezing it until it was deformed.

"Teacher Xu..."

Xu Qing sat down again.

"I don't like that word."

Xu Qing looked at them.

"What do you mean by high or low, noble or base?"

"There is only one standard for music."

"It sounds good, or it sounds bad."