Chapter 130: Truly Worthy of an Expert

Listeners only hear the song; laymen cannot discern the craft behind it.

Lolo’s criticism was sharp and incisive, and the other experts reached the same conclusion at once.

A wave of regret rose from the audience.

Moments ago, everyone had been utterly immersed. The song had sounded heartbreaking, even conjuring the images evoked by its lyrics before their eyes. And yet, only after the fact did they realize that although they felt sad, they could not cry; it was like the thunder had rolled, but the expected torrential rain never came.

Their baffled thoughts found an answer, and the audience could not help but sigh, “This is why you need experts!”

When Sun Zhihan stepped down from the stage, there was a tear at the corner of his eye.

After that critique, his path to stardom had already fallen from the sky.

Lin Yu glanced at him, having long since guessed this outcome. As someone reborn, the moment he heard Sun Zhihan claim that song as his own creation, he had nearly laughed aloud.

That song later went explosively viral on short-video platforms. The original creator was clearly named Withered Wood Meets Spring; if even that person was not the original singer, how could Sun Zhihan possibly capture that feeling?

Anyone with even a little professionalism could hear it: he sang too hard.

Trying too hard only made the song lose its feeling. If one wanted to sing with emotion, one had to sing with heart, not force.

...

Si Shaozhe stood up. He was dressed very formally today: a suit on top, suit trousers below, his hair dyed white, a flamboyant earring in one ear. The whole person gave off a distinctly Korean-pop style.

The moment he stepped onto the stage, his fans let out explosive screams. As always, he struck a cool pose, swept one hand outward, then pointed both fingers at the sides of his head and called out stylishly,

“Ye~”

The fans below screamed themselves hoarse.

“Today, I’m bringing everyone a song called, ‘Elevator War God’!”

“I’m the loach in the fishpond.”

“I’ll pour a little gasoline on the fire for you.”

“Your underworld doesn’t amount to much.”

“You’re like a mythic beast that can never be filled.”

“Gemstone grabs you like a ball.”

“Gemstone takes you out like beer.”

“The Godfather never bows his head.”

...

Still rap.

This idol, called the little king of songs and the underground emperor, remained steadfast in his original intent.

This time, however, Si Shaozhe performed a little better than before. Last time he had only cared about speed and ignored the details, which made his diction blurry and his lyrics impossible to understand.

But “Elevator War God” delivered an air of absolute control. Combined with the stage lighting and atmosphere, it instantly blew the roof off the venue.

Lin Yu nodded in approval.

Sure enough, anyone who could make it onto the stage was never merely a paper tiger. Without some real foundation, even the strongest backing could not prop them up.

A tiger made of paper would be pierced sooner or later.

Si Shaozhe’s performance this time was simply too explosive. The entire audience was hyped along with him, and the judges were equally excited. The mentors, on the other hand, probably had less exposure to this kind of fast-paced song, so their expressions were rather grave.

The livestream bullet comments had long since erupted.

“Help! Does this song have to be this good?!”

“So wild! Too wild! I love it, I love it!!”

“I came in as a passerby who doesn’t listen to rap, and I got instantly handled.”

“These lyrics are so hard! The underground emperor is seriously hot! So good!”

“Was Si Shaozhe this strong all along? The aura is completely unleashed! So cool!”

“I became a fan on the spot! It’s too good!! Explode! Explode! Explode!”

“Why do I keep feeling like Si Shaozhe is insulting people? But I have no evidence!”

“This song has great music and lyrics, but the flow is simple. Worse still, the groove is average too. In a live competition, it’s really just so-so, hehe, a bunch of blind praise.”

“Blacklist, get out, get out, get out!!”

...

Si Shaozhe bowed separately to everyone present. He looked extremely polite. The audience screamed nonstop, and someone else shouted “underground emperor” again. A confident smile appeared on Si Shaozhe’s face, but he quickly restrained it.

He silently turned to the mentor beside him, gripping the microphone with both hands, standing straight as a tree, waiting quietly for the mentor’s evaluation.

This time, his stage presence really was much better than last time. The mentors and judges offered their comments, neither praising nor criticizing him too sharply, keeping things fair and measured. In the end, he received half the votes.

Qu Chan’er sang a song in the ancient style. Her voice was of the sweet and delicate type, and while singing she remained soft and flowing throughout. Aside from failing to reach the high point in the chorus, the rest was fairly flawless.

That gentle, yielding voice simply meant she had chosen the wrong song. She was better suited to sweet little love songs. She had picked well in the first round, but this time her song choice was a genuine failure.

Qianqian, the pioneering online singer of ancient-style songs, took the stage this round as a mentor. Compared with the other nationally renowned instructors, her standing was actually not all that high.

But this was her specialty. She first praised Qu Chan’er’s sweet vocal timbre, then suddenly turned serious.

“Is your voice only capable of one kind of delivery? Stable performance? In the chorus, when you sing this section, the emotion that should be included— you didn’t carry any of it at all.”

“It’s as though you’re telling a very peaceful story, but when has any story ever been plain and uneventful? Only life is plain and uneventful. As a singer, you should spend real time improving your professionalism.”

The mentors had already felt that Qu Chan’er did not sing very well, but they had discussed it and did not want to send someone off with zero votes. Yet once the authority on ancient-style music delivered such a sharp critique, whether to give a vote suddenly seemed far less important.

On the judges’ side, seeing that the mentors had not given her any votes, they had no intention of giving one either. But then the director’s voice came through the earpiece.

“Don’t let her leave with zero votes.”

In the end, Qu Chan’er received two votes of support from the judges.

Lin Yu sat back in his chair with his arms folded across his chest, completely motionless. Following the director’s instructions, the camera operator pointed the lens at him.

This kid had already brought the director plenty of traffic and revenue last time by playing games. Everyone had thought he might bring some surprise again this time, but the result was...

“Laughing myself sick. Ah Yu just fell asleep, hahahahaha!”

“Everyone else is being crushed by the pressure from the experts, and this kid is great—he just gives up and sleeps! Six six six six!”

“Damn, I thought he was listening seriously, and then it turned out he was playing chess with the God of Dreams!”

“Hush, he looks exactly like a sleeping prince. Honestly... can a kiss wake him up? Let me kiss him!”

“The person above, stop dreaming. Let me kiss him!”

“...”

...

Su Xiaolin noticed the camera had locked onto Lin Yu and hurriedly bent over to the stage, worried it would ruin his image. She tugged at his clothes to wake him.

“Stop sleeping.”

Honestly, he really was something else. He promised not to mess around on the show, and now he just gives up and sleeps? Fine. Very fine.

The moment she woke him, he fell asleep again.

Su Xiaolin: ...

This kid...

“Hey, Sister Xiaolin! Are you coming up to beat Ah Yu?”

Xu Mengbai had somehow heard that Su Xiaolin and Ji Ya both liked tugging ears, and one sentence from him left Su Xiaolin feeling awkward beyond words.