Chapter Thirty-Eight: "The Great Fish"

"Not bad, this time they've abandoned their old routine," Lin Ze leaned in, carefully analyzing their choreography.

"They're an arts troupe, after all. They can't exactly go up there and bark like dogs," Su Zitan poured a glass of water and handed it to Lin Ze.

The song turned out to be a fast-paced rap, a collision of tradition and modernity that felt refreshingly novel.

"This is a great act," Lin Ze nodded. "I'd really like to know who did the choreography and arrangement."

"If only they were students from Tongyin."

Su Zitan perked up at this. "Why, are you thinking of bringing them over?"

"Yes, once this week wraps up, the company contract should be drafted. By our previous agreement, they ought to let me set up my own studio."

"You'll need people to actually work in that studio."

The score for this song would surely be high.

"Aunt Tian Hui might be in trouble," Lin Ze sighed.

Old Wang nervously gripped his thermos, twisting the lid over and over.

[Is this Li Xiangyu?]

[Wait, isn't this the same Li Xiangyu who sang those puppy-love songs?]

[Why didn't he show off this side earlier?]

Amid a flurry of comments, Li Xiangyu completed his performance.

Next up was the Western Orchestra.

The Western Orchestra slowly took the stage, each carrying their instrument. This time, Tian Hui didn't sing; instead, she held a guitar.

After the introduction, light, cheerful music emanated from the orchestra. There was no dramatic ebb and flow, just a steady, pleasant musical experience.

Had this piece been played before Li Xiangyu, it might have scored well. But now, with the atmosphere still electric from the previous act, both audience and judges were too exhilarated.

The Western Orchestra’s gentle song, in contrast, lacked sensory stimulation.

Some audience members and judges even began to yawn.

Old Wang understood music, but lacked stage experience; something felt amiss, though he couldn’t articulate it.

Lin Ze glanced at Old Wang, shaking his head with regret.

"What’s wrong?" Su Zitan whispered.

"Aunt Tian Hui is probably going to be eliminated," Lin Ze replied, his tone tinged with regret.

Su Zitan eyed Old Wang. "Do you think it's possible to merge the two orchestras?"

"That's a great idea," Lin Ze agreed enthusiastically. "The next song needs some electric guitar, though I wonder if any of the older folks know how to play."

The song ended, and the audience’s reaction was lukewarm.

Old Wang sighed, disappointed—he’d hoped they could compete together.

"Old Wang, let me help you out this once. Grab your chance," Lin Ze patted the crestfallen Old Wang on the shoulder.

"Hey?"

Old Wang’s eyes widened, and he nearly kicked Lin Ze, who dodged quickly.

Lin Ze slipped out the door in a flash.

"One day he calls me Uncle Wang, yesterday it was Brother Wang, now it's just Old Wang," Old Wang rolled his eyes. "Tomorrow he'll probably call me nephew."

Next up was another group from Tongyin.

Their skill was average; the lead singer clutched the microphone, straining for high notes, but nerves and mismatched timing with the band led to a disjointed performance.

The song was almost over and Lin Ze hadn’t returned.

Old Wang grew anxious. "Where is he, where’s Xiao Lin?"

"Here he comes!"

Footsteps echoed down the corridor as Lin Ze rushed to the doorway.

"The next song is set; Aunt Tian's granddaughter knows electric guitar!"

[...]

[This orchestra really brings the whole family along.]

[I see now, Lin’s vision is profound. This group reflects a social phenomenon—young people working away, elders and kids left behind. Lin should name his band 'The Village Keepers'!]

[Perfect! That's a great interpretation! 'The Village Keepers' band!]

Lin Ze hadn’t checked the comments yet and didn’t know his band had been named.

"Let's go!"

...

"Old Zhou, Lin Ze’s last song would be perfect for us," Mu Tang sat in the audience, one arm around Zhou Ke, the other busy arguing with Lin Ze’s blacklisted fans.

"It really would," Zhou Ke admitted, lacking confidence. "But we can't afford it."

"We can’t even buy a cover license?" Mu Tang shot him a look.

"Think about it, Phoenix Park is famous now. We could sing with a cover license, earn some money, then buy the full rights. Wouldn’t that be great?"

Zhou Ke remembered the streets flooded with "Lotus Pond Moonlight" and winced.

"Enough, Lin Ze’s up. Let’s listen."

On stage, the uncles and aunts donned cheongsams and tunics, a stark contrast to the preliminary round.

Su Zitan had a handpan set before her, positioned beside Lin Ze.

The song’s title appeared on the screen above the stage.

"Big Fish"

Besides the audience, a host of singers watched the live broadcast, waiting quietly for Lin Ze to begin.

No one knew what level this newcomer, this mountain of talent, would bring with his new song.

The lights dimmed, then shone again.

Lin Ze nodded to Su Zitan.

Su Zitan held two small mallets and gently tapped.

An ethereal, distant sound wove a melody that seemed to pierce straight into the soul.

It felt as if, in an instant, one was drawn into a dreamscape of sea and sky.

This song…

A male singer furrowed his brow deeply, while Li Xiyan clenched her fists.

This key... can a male vocalist sing it?

Isn’t such a beautiful opening just instrumental?

It’s so hard to transition into vocals!

"The silent waves drown the deepening night."

"Washing over the corners at the edge of the sky."

"A big fish swims through the cracks of dreams."

"Gazing at your sleeping silhouette."

A voice, impossibly pure, seemed to flow directly into the listeners’ minds.

It was as if cold seawater surged from their crowns, raising goosebumps all over.

"See the colors of sea and sky, hear the wind and rain's descent."

"Hand in hand, we dispel the vast mist."

"The wings of the big fish have grown too broad."

"I loosen the rope of time."

The judges sat uneasily at their table.

This...

Is this something we can even judge?

"See you fly far away, see you leave me behind."

"You were born to belong to the horizon."

"Every tear flows towards you."

"Returning to our very first meeting."

Behind, the uncles and aunts closed their eyes, their movements flowing as if by nature—far smoother than during rehearsal.

Even the detractors in the comment section stopped typing.

Everyone who heard the song...

It was as if they saw a calm water's surface reflecting the sky's hues, themselves standing in tranquil solitude.

Suddenly, a big fish swept beneath their feet, leaping effortlessly from the water, transforming into a bird vast enough to cover the sky.