Chapter Fifty-Three: Foresight

Although everyone was awed by Mr. Wen Haiquan's skill, this "The Moon Reflected on the Second Spring" was simply overwhelming—they truly couldn’t endure it. However, no one went to disturb Mr. Wen Haiquan. Only when the piece concluded did everyone burst into applause. Even Bai Ling in the kitchen spared no effort in her cheers.

“Amazing!”

“This is an artist of the highest caliber, truly a master in the hall of the arts.”

“Mr. Wen hasn’t performed for years, but when he does, it’s extraordinary.”

Faced with their praise, Wen Haiquan laughed heartily. “You flatter me—Old Jin is the real heavyweight here.”

The conversation turned to Mr. Jin Chenglin, who then drew out his instrument—his own mouth! Yes, there was no instrument. His voice alone was the finest instrument.

Then, throat singing began.

The deep, resonant sound and its endless reverberation sent chills down everyone’s spines. They felt as though they’d been transported to a boundless grassland, seeing cattle and sheep emerge as the wind brushed the low grass.

When they snapped out of it, they realized with a shock that Mr. Jin Chenglin had sustained his performance for over twenty, nearly thirty seconds.

A collective gasp swept the room.

“Damn, that lung capacity...”

“If I hadn’t witnessed it myself, I’d never have believed it.”

“My God, what iron lungs! Incredible.”

“The older generation is truly terrifying—how are the younger ones supposed to compete?”

“Look at Zhuge Ming, Lin Yubai, and the others—they’re stunned.”

“Hahaha, now I suddenly understand Bai Ling. With such talent ahead, stepping up would be suicidal, wouldn’t it?”

“I thought she was just minimizing her loss, but it turns out she was simply self-aware.”

“Bai Ling is a clever one.”

“Right, why didn’t that occur to me?”

“Hahaha!”

“I told you, Bai Ling is quite shrewd.”

“Brother, can’t you see everyone’s just joking? Are you coming out to get roasted again?”

No matter what, the performances of these four seniors had already won everyone’s hearts. Though the entertainment industry had developed for years, it had been in decline lately—monopolized by capital and riddled with scandals.

It seemed as though no one pursued genuine artistry anymore; they were all caught up in the scramble for fame and fortune. Perhaps inviting true veterans with real substance to hold the stage was one of the show’s greatest highlights.

On the production side, Director Wang’s face was nearly split with joy. Even though Bai Ling’s card hadn’t been played yet—and might not be played at all tonight—the show was already soaring in popularity.

How satisfying!

Wen Haiquan chuckled. “Old Jin, that lung capacity of yours is just like a young man’s! For a moment, I thought you’d break into some vocal mimicry.”

Jin Chenglin replied with a soft laugh, “Vocal mimicry was something I played with in my youth. Now, I prefer the pure and simple.”

As for Leng Yan, there was no need to elaborate. Though not yet a member of the national team, he was one of the pillars of the pop music scene. He pulled out his phone, started an accompaniment track, and sang his signature song, “Whistling Cold Wind.”

Truth be told, his performance was rock solid. While not quite a walking CD, he still outclassed most singers by far. This brief demonstration gave everyone a clear sense of Leng Yan’s strength.

Indeed, these evergreen figures of the music world—like the national team—were monsters in their own right.

After the seniors had so successfully set the stage, the younger generation’s turn came. Except for Bai Ling, the four juniors were under tremendous pressure.

Lin Yubai seemed quite composed and casually sang a song. His singing was only average, but everyone understood—after all, he was an actor, not a singer.

Zhuge Ming, on the other hand, took a clever approach and showcased his calligraphy skills. His stamina may have been lacking, but his writing was impressive, displaying the style of a master calligrapher.

Even Wen Huaiyu and the others looked at Zhuge Ming with new admiration, full of praise.

At this point, Ouyang Ruofeng was less than pleased.

“We agreed to come in last together, but you secretly powered up?”

“That’s not fair!”

Zhuge Ming laughed lightly. “If you have the skills, you can power up too.”

But clearly, Ouyang Ruofeng didn’t have that ability. His only offering was to tell a joke or, as he saw it, perform a stand-up routine.

Unfortunately, after he finished, the atmosphere remained utterly flat—even a bit chilly.

“No way… was my stand-up really that unfunny?” Ouyang Ruofeng wore a look of utter defeat.

Zhuge Ming delivered the final blow from the side. “You call that stand-up? I thought you were telling a cold joke.”

The audience erupted in laughter.

“Ouyang, you’d better stick to filming and leave the cold jokes behind.”

“Exactly! The whole room’s gone cold, haha.”

“So this is what a mood killer looks like?”

“To turn stand-up into cold jokes—that’s a talent in itself!”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

Next up was Wen Yan.

Originally, Wen Yan planned to sing—she was fairly confident in her vocal skills. But after seeing the seniors display their talents, she decisively chose to withdraw. She simply didn’t dare to make a fool of herself.

She settled on a dance performance instead. Given her girl group background, she was bound to be proficient in at least one of singing or dancing.

Among idols, Wen Yan was already considered outstanding—proficient in both, and both to a high standard. No wonder she had been the center of her original group. Perhaps her background had something to do with it, but her hard work couldn’t be denied.

Even so, no matter how well Wen Yan danced, it was still just an ordinary routine. The audience applauded out of respect, but that didn’t mean they were all impressed.

A few of Wen Yan’s fans cheered and supported her, but most people’s verdict was: mediocre.

“Honestly, for a girl group member, that was pretty good—her movements and figure were both there.”

“And it wasn’t one of those explosive girl group tracks, but something more traditional. She showcased her figure well, but for some reason, it just felt average.”

“It’s not really her fault—the national team seniors are simply too intimidating.”

“Exactly! Teachers like Wen Huaiyu, Wen Haiquan, and Jin Chenglin may not have the flashy fame of today’s idols, but their skills are unrivaled.”

“All I can say is, Wen Yan isn’t quite clever enough. If she’d made a tactical retreat like Bai Ling, she probably wouldn’t have been overshadowed.”

“Right, you have to admit, Bai Ling saw this coming!”

“Bai Ling, forever a legend!”