Chapter 63: The Loopstation Astonishes the Audition Stage

Lu Zhou signed up for the auditions of “Stardust 1+1,” and without much suspense, he was placed in the Jinghua City division. The contestants for the auditions were mostly independent musicians without company contracts, many of whom had never truly set foot in the entertainment industry. Upon hearing about the show, everyone flocked to register, hoping to break into variety television and showcase their musical talents previously unseen by the public, longing for instant fame through the program.

Indeed, there were many hidden masters among the masses. The competition in every regional audition across the country was fierce. This was a show where independent musicians and professional singers from the entertainment industry could stand on equal footing and compete. Many independent musicians had long harbored resentment toward the trashy songs tailored for shallow idols, which had dominated the industry in recent years. Nowadays, a pretty face is enough to break into the music world, and there’s a legion of blind fans lauding their idols’ vocal prowess, though those idols barely dare to sing live, relying on backing tracks during performances. Despite their poor skills, they’re still hyped up, with hordes of ignorant fans believing the hype.

It’s a phenomenon that’s hard to stomach for musicians with real talent but little fame. Now, a music show finally dared to go all out, offering them a genuine opportunity. Everyone was nearly going mad for a chance to qualify, vowing to revitalize the musical landscape.

“Stardust 1+1” not only required singing ability but also demanded a certain degree of songwriting skill from its contestants. The division had three rounds of selection, and in the final round, only five contestants would advance to the national finals.

Lu Zhou breezed through the first two rounds. For the third, he dedicated significant effort to preparing his stage performance. On the night of the Jinghua City division finals, luck was not on his side—he drew the fourth-to-last slot in the performance order. By the time it was his turn, the panel and audience were approaching aesthetic fatigue.

Anyone who made it to the final round was highly skilled. Each contestant revealed their trump cards during the competition, dazzling everyone with their techniques and musical prowess. The judges’ standards grew ever higher, and the voting audience was gradually losing steam. The later the contestant appeared, the greater the pressure. If their performance wasn’t captivating enough, they’d be immediately dismissed.

Lu Zhou mounted the stage under such pressure. His performance involved multiple instruments and props, so after the crew finished setting up and tuning everything, quite a bit of time had passed. The other contestants only needed a single instrument or microphone to start, but his setup required a lengthy fuss on stage, causing some judges to grow impatient.

Why the pipa, the guzheng, and the erhu? Why so many instruments? Is he here to make trouble?

Who is this contestant anyway? The judges flipped through the roster, saw the name “Lu Zhou,” and glanced at his chosen piece, “Unstained,” beginning to understand why he needed both pipa and guzheng. Still, doubts lingered—wouldn’t so many instruments make things chaotic?

The next moment, murmurs of surprise rippled through the audience. The judges looked up to see Lu Zhou, bamboo flute in hand, dressed in traditional attire, elegant and refined, stepping onto the stage like a gentleman scholar.

Lu Zhou approached the performance area, quickly checked each instrument, and after confirming everything was in order, bowed gently to the judges and audience, signaling the official start of his act.

He sat before the guzheng, his ten fingers hovering above the strings. After a brief silence, he pressed the record button on a track of the Loopstation with his foot. At the same time, his fingers began to play the guzheng fluidly.

Once a segment of guzheng music was recorded, he picked up the bamboo flute and played a haunting melody into the microphone. Meanwhile, observant judges noticed him press another switch on the Loopstation with his foot.

When the flute ceased, Lu Zhou took up the pipa and played a lingering phrase. The audience, entranced, whispered in awe, “How does he know so many instruments?”

But that wasn’t all. When Lu Zhou drew the erhu bow, its soulful, winding notes moved listeners nearly to tears. The previously recorded sounds of guzheng, bamboo flute, pipa, and erhu blended perfectly, layered into the accompaniment for the song “Unstained.”

Lu Zhou set aside the instruments, took the microphone, and began to sing.

“I do not wish to be stained by right and wrong, yet fate goes against my will…”

The moment his voice rang out, the judges all raised their eyebrows in surprise.

From the very first line, the emotion was spot-on, drawing everyone into the song’s mood. He delivered a distinct interpretation from the original, both in emotional handling and arrangement, adding his own unique flair. His breath was steady, seamlessly connecting low and high notes, handling transitions with ease.

His singing conveyed both the sorrow and lingering affection of the story, leaving the judges, contestants, and audience deeply moved, many in tears.

His live use of the Loopstation was flawless, and his open-mic vocals sounded as clear as the CD recording.

Contestants yet to perform couldn’t help but curse under their breaths.

“What’s the point of competing now? I don’t even want to go up.”

“Could you at least leave us some crumbs? This is like watching gods battle… how are we supposed to measure up?”

“Terrifying—this is just the regional division! Did he really have to dominate so hard?”

Meanwhile, those who had already performed and received their scores shivered in awe.

“Damn it, I’m definitely dropping out of the top five.”

“No way I can compete. I admit defeat.”

“It’s one thing to be crushed in singing, but his instrumental skills are insane! We played one instrument—he played four, and not even the usual ones… We lost in originality alone.”

“I saw him on that popular dating show recently; he’s really good at piano and violin, too.”

“Tsk, what did he eat growing up? Looks aren’t enough—how does he master so many skills?”

“Wait, isn’t Lu Zhou signed to a company? How can he join the auditions? Isn’t that unfair?”

“He used to be with Jinhua Entertainment, but he terminated his contract and is now an independent artist.”

“…With skills like his, why haven’t we seen him in the entertainment industry before? It’s absurd that he isn’t famous.”

“They had him on the idol trainee track before. What a waste of talent.”

“These days, the entertainment industry is ruled by capital. Having skill alone isn’t enough to make it big. Just look at the current trends—everything’s sugar-sweet… ha!”

“Isn’t Lu Zhou getting popular on that dating show lately? He’s famous now, isn’t he? Why not just release his own music properly? Why come and compete with us for this variety show?”

Despite the complaints, nothing could stop Lu Zhou from earning top scores from the judges and overwhelming support from the audience.

With his cover of “Unstained,” Lu Zhou took first place in the Jinghua City division and advanced directly to the national finals.