Chapter Seventy-Seven: The Beginning

The time had reached eight o’clock.

“Three, two, one, ACTION.” At Wei Hongzhang’s command, the grand curtain of “The Singing General” rose slowly. Contestants from all walks of life would soon unveil their mysterious veils and appear before the entire nation.

The first images on television were previously recorded behind-the-scenes clips, including moments of music agents picking up artists and chatting on the way.

“This singer is just too funny.” In a family’s living room, everyone sat together watching TV. The daughter pointed at the screen and laughed.

“Yes, but I still can’t figure out who it is. I have some ideas about the others, though,” the father replied calmly.

“With your judgment, you really shouldn’t show off,” the daughter scoffed, glancing at her father. She waved her phone in front of him. “Look at your so-called analysis online! No evidence at all. You just guess your favorite singer will compete. It’s hilarious.”

“I put a lot of thought into it, okay?” the father retorted, unwilling to concede.

“Thoughtful analysis? You really think the show would cast all seven starting singers as top-tier stars? Where’s the fun in that? They always mix generations—old, middle-aged, and young. All are powerhouse vocalists, but not all are A-list. If everyone were a top star, it’d just become a superstar concert.”

The wife, sitting nearby, watched the father and daughter bicker, lips pressed in a smile. She said nothing, but her heart brimmed with happiness. Normally, father and daughter rarely talked, but they found common ground in “The Singing General,” sparking lively debates every time. That, she thought, was the true atmosphere of family, deepening their bond.

“All right, the cameras are back on the stage,” the wife finally interrupted, prompting them.

They hurriedly turned their attention to the screen. Sure enough, under a thousand dazzling lights, the competition venue appeared. The stage was breathtaking—a beautiful ellipse, with a passage connecting backstage, shimmering with starry, sapphire-blue light.

“What does it mean?” The audience began to speculate.

Soon, they understood. Someone emerged from the passage, bathed in flickering light, as if traversing a tunnel through time and space to arrive at the stage.

“So it’s a time-space tunnel. What an effect—truly sleepless nights for the crew.” The audience couldn’t help but express their admiration.

Everyone in the venue rose, cheering. The person had reached the stage, waving to greet the crowd.

“So it’s him.” Countless viewers suddenly realized, while many shouted triumphantly for guessing correctly.

The newcomer was none other than Guan Shengjie, a second-tier singer with a renowned reputation. His participation had been highly anticipated.

“It seems he’s hosting as well,” those familiar with “The Singing General” knew its unique feature: the singer also serves as host, making the program more authentic. Of course, the singer must have some hosting experience—otherwise, mistakes would abound. This time, the host was Guan Shengjie.

Music began. Guan Shengjie launched into his signature song, “Sand Gull.” His deep notes were tender and moving; his high notes soared and twisted, earning rounds of applause from the audience.

“Such control—amazing.” Lin Qihua, waiting in the lounge, was full of respect. He had drawn the third slot for tonight—not early, not late, right in the middle. Although the later you go, the more the audience’s anticipation builds, Lin Qihua knew he wouldn’t be the finale. That slot was reserved for a top-tier singer; otherwise, if an unknown appeared after all the hype, even the best performance would struggle to satisfy the crowd.

When Guan Shengjie finished, the whole audience stood, clapping and cheering—an undeniable affirmation.

Guan Shengjie waved frequently to the crowd. Arriving on this stage, bearing immense pressure, and being the first to perform, it was impossible not to feel nervous. To deliver so flawlessly, he felt very satisfied.

After a short while, he began his hosting duties. Now that he’d sung, he was relaxed. After a fluent advertisement, he introduced the second contestant, then stepped down, leaving the cheers for the next performer.

The second singer, Zhang Yuxian, was a lovely young woman whose tasteful dress immediately drew the audience’s attention.

“Don’t be fooled by her age—she’s a well-known powerhouse,” Su Jianhao said, heading backstage with Lin Qihua. “She won Best Newcomer over on Treasure Island.”

“Oh,” Lin Qihua understood—another pleasant surprise. Anyone who’d won Best Newcomer there was remarkable.

“Nervous?”

“Not really.” Lin Qihua shook his head. Aside from a hint of nerves, he felt mostly excited. After waiting so long, it was finally his turn—the perfect stage for a comeback. “The Singing General,” here I come.

Perhaps nerves got the better of her, and Zhang Yuxian didn’t fully unleash her abilities. But she’d already left a deep impression on the nation—a beautiful, adorable girl with a voice like an angel. As long as she performed normally in the second round, she should have no trouble holding her spot.

“Wait here,” backstage staff directed Lin Qihua to stand just behind the passage, ready to go on.

Even separated by the passage, the booming voices and fevered atmosphere could be felt. Guan Shengjie’s hosting was skillful, with plenty of audience interaction and frequent laughter.

“All right, go,” staff signaled. Lin Qihua took a deep breath and entered the passage. Countless lights shone on him, guiding him from darkness onto a stage blazing with brilliance.

“Let’s welcome our next singer,” Guan Shengjie announced. Lin Qihua, bathed in blue light, walked out and stood center stage, greeting the audience with a confident smile.

“Who is that? I don’t know him.” This was the common feeling across the country—the name on the screen was unfamiliar. Lin Qihua—who was he?

Of course, some did recognize him.

“It’s him!” In the dormitory of “Huayi” in Yanjing, Little Scatterbrain leapt three feet high, clutching Wang Ruyue and shaking her hard. “It’s him—he’s on ‘The Singing General’!”

“Yes, yes,” Wang Ruyue said, dizzy from the shaking. She remembered visiting him with Little Scatterbrain back when he was singing in a bar. In the blink of an eye, he now stood on the grandest stage.

“It’s Qihua—how is it Qihua?” In the staff dorm of Galaxy Entertainment, a group of girls watching TV were stunned at the person on screen. “He’s competing!”

“No wonder they’ve been so secretive lately, with no signs of activity—they’ve been preparing for this show. What a surprise!” Chang Yan bounced excitedly.

“We didn’t know either—such secrecy,” Li Zixuan said, equally exhilarated.

“Yes, really impressive. Everyone wondered what his next move would be, but who could have guessed such a huge surprise?” He Yanlin watched Lin Qihua interact with the audience onscreen, her expression full of nostalgia. “I can’t wait to see what happens.”