Chapter 43: The Beautiful Woman
At 8 p.m., the show officially began.
Most viewers still habitually tuned in to Mango TV—after all, it was the established platform with a vast array of resources. The latest figures showed that, as of last month, Mango TV boasted a conservative estimate of 500 million members, while Penguin TV had just broken the 100 million mark.
In an apartment, Yuanyuan was bent over her homework at the coffee table in the living room. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she exclaimed excitedly, “It’s about to start!” She promptly closed her notebooks, turned on the television to the Mango TV channel, and clicked on “I Am a Songwriter.” The latest episode of the second round had just been updated.
Eagerly, she hit play and then flopped straight back onto the sofa, her hands propping her up. As the host finished reciting the competition rules and the judges entered, the cheers of the live audience could be heard.
But Yuanyuan didn’t seem particularly thrilled. She muttered, “Xu Ze, Xu Ze, why isn’t he on stage yet?”
At that moment, the host announced that the competition was about to begin. After the first two contestants finished their performances, it was finally Xu Ze’s turn. Yuanyuan sprang upright on the sofa, her face lit with excitement. “Xu Ze! Xu Ze!”
Suddenly, the barrage of comments on the TV exploded, flooding the entire screen—everyone was typing Xu Ze’s name or the phrase “To Know or Not to Know.”
Yuanyuan cried out, “Oh no, there are so many comments, I can’t even see Xu Ze!” She hurriedly grabbed the remote and adjusted the comments from full screen to a quarter of the screen, finally managing to control the flood.
Under Yuanyuan’s eager gaze, Xu Ze, dressed in casual, everyday clothes, walked onto the stage and stood there quietly, exuding a sense of fresh, clean simplicity.
Xu Ze’s clear, melodious voice began to fill the room.
“A blossom blooms beside the willow,
Seeking fragrance, I lose myself by the pavilion,
Drinking the morning glow, half a day’s warmth,
Wind and rain cannot penetrate...”
“Ah, so beautiful, so beautiful,” Yuanyuan sighed, her face flushed with delight.
But just then, her sharp ears caught a familiar sound.
“Oh no!” Yuanyuan quickly turned off the television, grabbed her homework from the table, and dashed back to her room.
At that moment, the sound of a key turning came from the door.
A beautiful woman in her thirties, exhausted from work, stepped into the entryway. She bent down to remove her small leather shoes, slipping her feet—encased in sheer, flesh-colored stockings—into a pair of slippers.
She placed her bag on the console by the door and headed straight for Yuanyuan’s room. Opening the door, she saw Yuanyuan bent diligently over her homework. Not wanting to disturb her, the woman quietly returned to the living room and collapsed onto the sofa.
She lifted her right foot onto the couch and began massaging it through the stockings.
“So tired,” she sighed, kneading her aching foot as she switched on the television.
The TV came on, already set to Mango TV. The woman frowned—Yuanyuan had clearly been watching television again. Scrolling through the viewing history, she saw the most recent program was “I Am a Songwriter,” with a progress bar at 5.2%.
She shook her head. Girls at this age just loved these celebrity shows. The woman had told Yuanyuan many times not to chase after stars and to focus on her studies, but girls at this age were not easily swayed—she could only feel helpless.
“Well, let’s see what kind of show these celebrities you like are putting on,” she muttered and clicked into the program. To her surprise, it was a singing competition.
“Oh? All original songs?” She slid the progress bar back to the beginning, starting with the first contestant.
After listening to the first two songs, she pursed her lips. “Nothing special.” In recent years, the Chinese music scene really had declined. In her day, classic hits seemed endless—any song from back then could outshine these easily.
Yet from her school days until now, she had never been a fangirl; she was always a model student, focused on her studies. If she heard a beautiful song, she simply enjoyed it for what it was—never caring about the singer behind it. So she simply could not understand the fanaticism of star-chasers.
Now, the host announced the next contestant: Xu Ze, performing “To Know or Not to Know.”
“‘To Know or Not to Know’?” The woman frowned. She seemed to recall seeing this song in the news recently; it had sparked quite a bit of discussion. But work kept her busy—she hadn’t had time to listen, nor did she have much interest. She would rather spend the time organizing her work or helping Yuanyuan with her studies.
“A blossom blooms beside the willow,
Seeking fragrance, I lose myself by the pavilion...”
Xu Ze’s clear, flowing voice drifted from the television.
Her heart gave a sudden jolt.
This song?
Unconsciously, her hand stopped massaging her foot; she became wholly absorbed in the music.
After listening to the first two verses, she nodded to herself. The lyrics were exquisite, like poetry, and the young man singing possessed a uniquely refreshing presence. While other contestants wore extravagant costumes, he was simply dressed in casual clothes and white sneakers—yet his appearance was strikingly handsome, radiating an inexplicable charm.
She mused that this young man must be exceptionally talented, likely well-educated.
The song reached its climax. When she heard the line, “Last night the rain was sparse, winds fierce; deep sleep could not dispel the lingering wine,” her eyes widened.
As a scholar herself, she immediately recognized the lines from Li Qingzhao’s “Like a Dream.”
“To set poetry to music—so beautifully, and with such natural grace?” she murmured in admiration.
And when he sang the final line, “To know or not to know—should be when the green is lush and the red is fading,” goosebumps erupted along her fair skin.
She was well aware of the academic debates surrounding the incomplete version of “Like a Dream,” and when Xu Ze delivered that last line, it sent a tremor through her.
“Did this young man somehow acquire Li Qingzhao’s lost original? That line fits so perfectly, as if it were always meant to be there.”
Even after Xu Ze finished singing, she remained deeply moved.
She immediately picked up her phone to search for information on Xu Ze. After a while, having read through the results, she couldn’t help but sigh, “So this is the kind of talent Qingbei produces?”
She herself had narrowly missed the admission score for Qingbei by two points—a lifelong regret.
The program continued playing, but she no longer watched. Instead, she exited and found the first episode, wanting to hear Xu Ze’s “Break of the East Wind.”
Afterwards, her throat felt parched; she got up for a glass of water and drank deeply.
Gazing at Xu Ze’s face on the television, she unconsciously licked her lips. Then she pulled out her phone again, searching for Xu Ze’s fan club or support group. After a long while, she found nothing of the sort online.
Frowning, she got up and went to Yuanyuan’s room, asking softly, “Yuanyuan, have you finished your homework?”
Yuanyuan, who had been pretending to study, immediately replied, “I’m done!”
The sound from the television earlier had made her itch with longing.
“If you’re finished, come watch TV,” the woman said gently.
“TV?” Yuanyuan was astonished. Usually, even after finishing homework, her mother would have her practice calligraphy, draw, or play piano. Only on weekends was she allowed a little TV time. She hadn’t expected her mother to allow it tonight.
Yuanyuan followed her mother to the living room, face alight with excitement.
On the sofa, her mother pointed at the TV. “You like this show?”
“Yes!” Yuanyuan nodded vigorously. “All my classmates love it. Xu Ze is our favorite!”
“Oh?” Her mother nodded, then, after a while, asked casually, “Xu Ze is so popular—does he have a fan club or support group?”
Yuanyuan shook her head. “No. Xu Ze doesn’t have a company; he’s still in college, so no one organizes those things for him.”
“I see.” The woman nodded thoughtfully.