Chapter Fifty-Five: Lei Jing Strikes

Shen Manni left with a gentle laugh, leaving Lin Qihua sitting there, shaking his head with a wry smile. “Life is truly a mixture of pain and joy.”

After sitting for a while, Lin Qihua made his way to the company’s rehearsal studio. The artists who had received their songs were fully immersed in their final practices. The pressure weighed heaviest on Lei Jing, who had spent nearly all her recent days in the rehearsal room—her voice had grown hoarse.

“You really need to take care of yourself,” Lin Qihua said, exasperated. She was not only working hard but also neglecting her voice. He poured a cup of water from his own thermos and handed it to her. “Have your manager find a throat-soothing tea recipe for you. The road of an artist is long; don’t ruin your foundation.”

Lei Jing’s manager nodded quickly, understanding the importance of this advice.

Lei Jing took a large gulp of water, coughed lightly, and managed a smile. “I can’t help it. If I don’t give it everything I have, I can’t be sure I’ll perform this song to the best of my ability. It’s a tough one.”

“Didn’t the department head tell you? There’s no need to release everything at once. We’ll be staggering the releases, promoting each song in turn. You don’t have to push yourself so hard.”

“You say that, but with such a good song, I just can’t leave it be. If I don’t practice, I feel uneasy,” Lei Jing replied with a smile.

“All right. I just watched your performance—it’s already very good. In the next couple of days, make sure to rest and protect your voice. Be ready for the recording, and then for the promotions. This is a tough battle; you can’t go in if you’re not in top form.”

“Understood. I’ll take it easy for the next few days,” Lei Jing agreed.

After leaving, Lin Qihua checked in on the others. Everyone was practicing diligently. The Vivi duo appeared more relaxed—the difficulty of the song was not high for them. The two newcomers, however, were struggling a bit, and Lin Qihua had to personally offer some guidance. One of them was skilled in both singing and dancing, with striking looks and an easygoing personality—a promising young idol, sure to become popular if he made his mark. The other was a young woman in whom Lin Qihua had high hopes. Her natural vocal quality and range were exceptional; it would be a pity not to cultivate such talent, especially given her beauty and striking figure.

Returning to the training room, Lian Yuling continued to put him through rigorous practice. His dance skills, compared to his singing, were falling behind, and Lian Yuling was relentless, pushing him until he was drenched in sweat. Although solo singers weren’t always expected to dance, letting such skills lag was unacceptable. Nowadays, artists were expected to be versatile—no one could predict when a particular skill might be needed. It was common knowledge that the more skills one had, the better. Clearly, Lian Yuling had high expectations for Lin Qihua, demanding excellence in every aspect. He understood this well and never complained. “A minute on stage takes three years of practice.” In any field, fleeting success might come with luck, but sustained achievement required unremitting effort and perseverance.

Time slipped by. Soon, it was Saturday—the day Lei Jing would perform at Music Bank. A couple of days earlier, she had finished recording and released her new single. The company had applied for her to appear on Music Bank, and today was her debut on this coveted stage. As the premier music program, Music Bank was the stage every singer aspired to after releasing a new single. It directly influenced chart rankings and digital downloads, affecting an artist’s fame and income—no wonder it was so highly regarded. Lin Qihua’s previous releases had done well, but since he hadn’t officially returned, he hadn’t been able to apply for a spot on this stage and had lost out as a result. Fortunately, Huaxia Music Network had offered immense support, or he might have been entirely overlooked.

Music Bank accepted applications from singers every week and arranged performances accordingly. Fans would organize themselves in advance to cheer for their favorites and to be the first to enjoy new music. The competition was intense; with multiple artists performing on the same stage, the audience’s verdict and the subsequent broadcast determined who was best. The weekly champion would dominate the charts and reap the benefits—a healthy competition that compelled artists to continuously create and perform at their best, offering the live audience an unforgettable show.

On Saturday night, Lin Qihua arrived at the Music Bank recording venue with his company. The venue resembled a small concert hall—half stage, half seating, with a capacity of about five hundred. It was packed to the brim, with fans clearly divided into groups, each gathered to support their idols.

The company’s three main executives were present, evidently holding high hopes for Lei Jing’s performance. Every opportunity was precious and crucial for the company; none dared take it lightly. Xiao Xiao and other artists had also come along to cheer on their senior and experience the atmosphere firsthand, as they too would soon take the stage.

No one went backstage to disturb Lei Jing; it was best to let her prepare quietly, with only her manager by her side. They planned to visit her after the performance.

“The competition is tough tonight,” Xiao Xiao, seated beside Lin Qihua, said with a hint of worry as the show began, with strong performers already taking the stage.

“When is it ever not competitive? The fiercer the competition, the stronger you become. Facing formidable opponents head-on is the only way. Believe in yourself—win or lose, as long as you give your all, you’ve already won.”

“That’s true,” He Li chimed in, seizing the chance to ease the artists’ nerves. “There are winners and losers on stage, but not among true artists. As long as you sing well, the audience will appreciate you. If your work is recognized, you’re a winner. It’s not winner-takes-all. Ultimately, it comes down to your skill—the result is just an outcome; time will judge everything in the end. Of course, we should strive for victory, but don’t make winning the sole purpose. The key is to showcase yourself and your music, and then fight for success.”

“Understood,” everyone responded, then turned their attention to the ongoing performances, absorbing what they could and imagining how they might present themselves when their turn came.

“Now, let’s welcome Lei Jing from Galaxy Entertainment to bring us her new single, ‘Summer Light Years,’” the host announced.

“She’s up!” The group perked up instantly.

Cheers erupted from the audience—Lei Jing’s fans had come to support her.

Lei Jing walked slowly from backstage to the center of the stage. Tonight, she wore a brand new hairstyle and a loose T-shirt paired with short denim shorts, exuding an air of effortless cool.

A stir ran through the crowd. Even her own fans were taken aback by her new look.

“Is that really Lei Jing? Why did she get a boy’s haircut?” Fans whispered among themselves.

Other audience members speculated about whether the performer was male or female. Most, however, found the style striking—cool and captivating.

Lei Jing stood quietly on stage, unshaken by the commotion. She had chosen this look and was prepared for any reaction. Her mind focused solely on the song to come. Memories flickered through her heart, emotions rising.

“I proudly destroy the mediocrity I despise,
Only to recall those were what I loved most.
Let summer run wild, casting the cruel future
Far beyond the light years.”

Her voice, rising from restraint to power, painted a vivid picture—a girl facing cold rules and judgmental eyes, holding her head high in unyielding pride, refusing to bow even when scarred and battered.

“Abandon the rules, indulge in love,
Release myself, forget the future.
I won’t turn aside, I won’t turn aside, I won’t turn aside, I won’t turn aside.
I want my madness, I want my love,
Yes, I want my madness, I want my love—now!
Ten thousand MP3s, ten thousand times of wild love,
Yet none can extinguish this tiny bit of loneliness.”

Each lyric burst from Lei Jing’s lips, her hoarse voice wild and untamed. She barely paused for breath, and the relentless pace won her wave after wave of applause.

“A summer carnival has soared beyond the light years,
Is growing up truly a necessary decay?”

“I won’t turn aside, I won’t turn aside, I won’t turn aside, I won’t turn aside.”

Her voice, nearly a roar, seemed to vent years of pent-up emotion, electrifying the audience. Everyone could feel the message—unyielding, unbending—a girl’s cry for herself, her refusal to submit to reality. The audience was deeply moved, and curiosity blossomed: what kind of woman was this, what life had she lived?

As the song ended, Lei Jing gathered all her strength and kicked out forcefully toward the audience, as if to shatter every misunderstanding and obstacle in her path. The move drew a chorus of gasps.

“So cool!” The girls screamed. In just one song, Lei Jing had conquered the hearts of these young women with her striking look and her voice brimming with wild power.

“That was fantastic.” Watching Lei Jing bow in thanks, Lin Qihua stood up to applaud, pride swelling in his chest. Some songs simply couldn’t be brought to life by his own performance—but in the hands of another, they could become deeply moving. Lin Qihua was grateful for the inspiration that resided in his mind; thanks to it, the world had gained another burst of vivid color.