Chapter 27: Do You Know, Do You Know

The host began to explain the rules.

The second round was an elimination match, narrowing the field from twenty contestants down to twelve. The show was broadcast live, and after each performance, viewers across the nation could vote for their favorite contestants on both the Penguin and Mango platforms. Each member was allowed up to two votes, but not for the same person. At the end of the voting, the eight contestants with the lowest popularity scores would be eliminated.

The remaining twelve contestants would each select a mentor. There were four mentors, dividing the group into four teams of three. Contestants with higher popularity rankings would choose their mentors first, but mentors retained the right to refuse any contestant.

Additionally, each mentor possessed a special privilege: a “lock-in card.” During the performances of the twenty contestants, mentors could use this card to lock in a contestant. If a contestant was locked in, they could only choose the mentor who used the card on them when it was time to select teams. Multiple mentors could use their lock-in card on the same contestant, but each mentor only had one card and could not change their choice once made.

The competition began.

The first contestant took the stage with an upbeat song. The rhythm was decent, but their popularity score after voting was only 200,000—not particularly impressive. After feedback from the four mentors, none chose to use their lock-in card.

Soon, the first three contestants had performed. At that moment, Contestant No. 2 led the rankings with 500,000 votes, but still, none of the mentors played their card. With only one lock-in card each, they were cautious, saving it for potentially stronger performers—like Minghao Huang and Zhenting Zhu.

As for Ze Xu, he had been a favorite in the previous round, but after the incident yesterday, his public image had taken a hit. It was uncertain whether any mentor would still want him on their team. Unless he managed to deliver a performance so stunning it dispelled all doubts, his prospects were bleak. It’s not uncommon in the industry for a singer to have a sudden flash of inspiration and write a remarkable song. But to create two masterpieces in a row? That was rare—unless, of course, you were a seeded contestant from a major company, like Minghao Huang or Zhenting Zhu, whose songs were crafted with the help of veteran composers.

Relying solely on oneself was difficult—especially for someone like Ze Xu, who had never formally studied music and was, in every sense, a latecomer.

At that moment, the host announced, “Next, please welcome Contestant No. 4, Ze Xu. His song is titled ‘Do You Know, Do You Know.’”

The moment the title was revealed, the live comment stream exploded.

“Is it that song?”

“No way, is Ze Xu really that bold? He actually turned the lyrics he wrote into a song?”

“But didn’t he only write those lyrics yesterday? How could he have finished the song so quickly? The quality must be questionable.”

“Insider info! I heard from a friend that Ze Xu hadn’t prepared this song initially—he changed it at the last minute today!”

“Seriously?”

“Is Ze Xu doing this to respond to Teacher Lianfeng Li?”

“He only replied with a single line last night—‘Worry not that no one will understand you on your journey ahead.’ I thought the criticism silenced him, but now I see he was preparing for this all along.”

“Hastily writing a song as a stopgap—he’s probably going to be eliminated.”

The stage lights shifted. Ze Xu, dressed in simple, casual clothes, stepped onto the stage and stood quietly, exuding a clean, refreshing presence.

“Wow, I have to admit, Ze Xu is really handsome.”

“Being handsome won’t help if he’s just cobbling together a song; he might get eliminated this round.”

“It’s a pity—why did he have to write a supplement for ‘A Dreamlike Song’ yesterday?”

The audience whispered among themselves.

Ze Xu held the microphone, discreetly swallowing his vocal enhancer. This was his second time performing. Unlike before, this time there was a live audience as well as a national broadcast.

He noticed that some in the audience held light-up signs, most of them for Minghao Huang and Zhenting Zhu. Scanning the crowd, he saw only one fan supporting him—a high school girl in a ponytail holding up a simple sign. It was just a sheet of A4 paper, with “Go Ze Xu!” written in red marker.

Ze Xu smiled at her, lifted the microphone, and gently said, “This song is for you.”

A hush fell over the audience and mentors, all instinctively turning toward the girl.

Director Ying Yang, in the control room, shouted, “Switch the camera! Give a close-up of the girl holding the Ze Xu sign!”

Yang, visibly excited, wiggled in her seat—she intended to capture every possible shot of Ze Xu. Having learned last night that he was changing his song, she’d listened to the new piece immediately. She had a premonition that Ze Xu’s performance would bring the show immense publicity and buzz.

The technical staff, puzzled, wondered why they weren’t cutting to the mentors’ reactions as usual. Who’d want to see a random audience member? Still, they followed orders, and the camera focused on the girl, who now looked bewildered.

“Did Ze Xu just say that to her? That he’s dedicating the song to her?”

The girl’s mind went blank. When she finally regained her senses, she realized everyone—the audience, the mentors, and even the assistant director—were looking at her, signaling her to look at the camera.

Her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. She shrank back, instinctively wanting to hide her face.

Originally, two classmates had planned to come with her, but they’d changed their minds at the last minute, saying they didn’t like Ze Xu after he tried to ride on the fame of Qingzhao Li for publicity. But she had loved the line he wrote and came alone to support him.

Now, as Ze Xu still looked at her with gentle encouragement, she felt her fear diminish. Summoning her courage, she raised her sign high toward the camera.

“Go Ze Xu!”

He nodded to her, then signaled to cue the accompaniment.

The giant screen behind him displayed the song information:

Song: “Do You Know, Do You Know”
Composer: Ze Xu
Lyricist: Ze Xu

The introduction began—a melodious flute, instantly enveloping the stage in an atmosphere steeped in Chinese tradition. Ze Xu’s clear, graceful voice rose:

“One day the flowers bloom by the willows,
Seeking fragrance, I lose my way at the pavilion,
Drinking in the morning glow till half the day is gone,
The wind and rain cannot reach me.”

The first four lines finished, several audience members looked on in surprise. The comments scrolled rapidly:

“My god, was that a poem right off the bat?”

“Does anyone know where Ze Xu got that line? I’ve never heard it before.”

“I’m a literature teacher, and I don’t recognize it either.”

“Seriously? If even a literature teacher doesn’t know it, did Ze Xu write it himself?”

“Wow, he wrote it like an ancient poem.”

“It’s beautiful!”

On stage, Ze Xu continued singing to the girl with the ponytail:

“Let the palace grow tall and my body grow thin,
High on the terrace, tears freeze and refuse to fall,
The embroidered letter is sent, but at the sudden turn,
No years remain to steal away.”

Again, another poetic stanza. The comment feed erupted:

“My god, another poem!”

“It’s confirmed—Ze Xu wrote both. Two poems in one song!”

“These are clearly ancient verses—so beautiful! With this melody, it’s exquisite.”

“The start is already this stunning—I can’t imagine how amazing the chorus will be!”

“Are all students at Qingbei University this incredible?”

“I’ve decided—my future husband must be a Qingbei student!”