Volume One: Debuting at the Pinnacle Chapter One: Do You Want to Be a Star?

The morning in Xiang City was tranquil and peaceful.

“…Ha…ha…” Chen Jing sat up on his bed, drenched in sweat. “Another dream… I can’t believe this…” Shaking his head, he got up, wiped off the sweat, took a sip of water from his thermos, and walked over to the window. As he gazed out at the quiet city, his thoughts drifted far away.

Chen Jing, twenty-two years old, six feet tall, and—at least in his own eyes—quite handsome. As a promising youth of Huaxia, Chen Jing was, naturally, well-versed in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, and dabbled in all sorts of martial arts. But what no one knew was that he was, in fact, a transmigrator—a soul reborn.

In his previous world, he had lived under the five-starred red flag, but by a twist of fate, he’d caught the last train out and been reborn in this one.

This world was at once very different and yet strangely similar to the last. The faces and works familiar to him were gone, but the landscape and culture bore striking resemblances. There were even more things here—mysterious, unfathomable. Chen Jing surmised this must be that so-called parallel universe.

After his rebirth, Chen Jing spent twenty years in rigorous training and missions. When he left that life behind, suddenly aimless, he decided to pursue something he’d always dreamed of but never dared in his previous life—becoming a celebrity.

Chen Jing loved music and film. In his past life, he'd explored both widely. Had his family not steered him early on into scientific research, he would probably already have broken into showbiz—starred as a megastar, with legions of fans swooning over him. Well, that was neither here nor there.

Fortunately, fate had given him a second chance—a true second chance. This time, Chen Jing would not hesitate.

Recently, Xiang City was hosting a major singing competition—Voice of Huaxia—and Chen Jing had come for it.

He’d realized early on that this world lacked the songs and films of his previous one. This was his greatest advantage. He was certain that, armed with some of the classics from his old world, he could easily stand out on Voice of Huaxia.

After half an hour of jogging and a simple breakfast, Chen Jing leisurely rode a shared bike toward the audition site.

The venue wasn’t far. By car, it would take half an hour; by bike, also half an hour. Yes, the rush hour traffic made sure of that—some things, like traffic jams, were universal.

Chen Jing took a shortcut, a direct route to the back entrance of Voice of Huaxia, where there were fewer cars in the morning and no congestion.

As soon as he turned into the alley, he saw a business van stuck by the roadside. A tall, striking woman was standing next to it, frowning at the front tire.

She was about five foot nine, dressed in a professional suit, with an impressive figure—a true goddess.

Chen Jing instinctively slowed down, his gaze lingering. At that moment, the woman looked up and caught him staring.

Their eyes met in silence.

“Ahem…” Chen Jing stopped the bike awkwardly, forcing a sheepish smile. “Miss, is there anything I can help you with?”

Lin Xi was not in a good mood—no one would be, after a flat tire on the way to work. She sized up the cyclist before her, eyes flickering. She’d noticed his rather bold gaze, but after she’d turned eighteen and filled out, she’d grown used to such looks. As long as they didn’t cross the line, she ignored them.

“The front tire’s blown,” Lin Xi said, looking Chen Jing up and down, a thought forming in her mind.

“Oh, do you have a spare? I can change it for you.” Seeing she wasn’t offended, Chen Jing got off his bike and went to inspect the flat.

“…Yes, it’s in the trunk.” Lin Xi hesitated, then pointed. “Won’t this make you late?”

“It’s fine. Changing a tire doesn’t take long—ten or twenty minutes at most.”

Chen Jing fetched the spare and tools from the trunk and got to work. Jacking up the car, removing the flat, fitting the spare—in less than twenty minutes, he was done.

After putting the flat in the trunk, Chen Jing clapped his hands and smiled at her. “All set. Make sure to get the tire replaced soon—it’s not safe to drive on a spare for long.”

For a moment, Lin Xi was dazzled by his sunny smile, lost in thought. Snapping back to herself, she handed him a bottle of water. “Here, wash your hands.”

As Chen Jing bent slightly to wash up, Lin Xi observed him closely. Eight out of ten for looks, over nine if he dressed up; a pleasant voice, and a tall, well-proportioned frame—he was, without doubt, a ten. Lin Xi’s eyes grew brighter as she studied him.

Chen Jing wiped his hands with a tissue, smiling. “Thank you.”

“It’s I who should thank you.” Lin Xi brushed aside her bangs and extended a hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Lin Xi.”

Chen Jing paused, then shook her hand. “Oh, I’m Chen Jing.”

“Chen Jing…” Lin Xi repeated, looking at him thoughtfully. “Tell me, do you want to be a star?”

What???

Chen Jing was baffled. How did she know about his ambitions? Or did she mean something else?

Before he could respond, Lin Xi’s phone rang. Seeing the caller ID, she raised a brow and said, “Look, you should get to work. Think it over. Here’s my card—once you’ve decided, contact me. Either way, I hope you’ll reach out.” She handed him a business card, hurried into her car, waved, and drove off.

Chen Jing stood there, silent, watching the van disappear. He looked down at the card.

“Huaxia Jingrun Entertainment Co., Ltd., General Manager Lin Xi…”

What a coincidence—Huaxia Jingrun was one of the companies behind Voice of Huaxia.

Because of the tire change, Chen Jing arrived at the venue at ten, but the competition didn’t start until eleven.

After registering, Chen Jing surveyed the hall; there were at least a thousand contestants. Since this was an open audition, everyone performed indoors for the judges, so there was little ceremony.

There were ten audition rooms. Chen Jing was assigned to Room Nine, number fifty-eight.

Sitting in the waiting area, Chen Jing closed his eyes, contemplating the song he’d perform. Suddenly, someone nudged him.

He opened his eyes to find a stranger in hip-hop attire.

“Hey, man, do you want to be a star?” the guy whispered, leaning in.

Chen Jing stared, surprised. Again?

“Uh…”

Before he could answer, the hip-hop guy went on, “Right? Me too, haha.”

Chen Jing: “…”

So, not another talent scout.

“Good luck,” Chen Jing replied politely.

“Of course! I’m sure I’ll make it this round—I’ve got what it takes.” The guy grinned, breaking into a rap: “Yo, yo! Listen up, I’ll rap for you, hip-hop’s where the charm is, yo yo, check it out!”

“Heh… haha… Nice.” Chen Jing smiled wryly.

“Right? I think so too. You should have confidence in yourself, man. By the way, what’s your number?”

“Fifty-eight.”

“No way, I’m fifty-seven! I’ll be right before you.”

“Uh…” Chen Jing wanted to point out that the waiting room was arranged by number.

The competition began around eleven. Each room admitted several contestants at a time, and hardly anyone spent more than five minutes inside. After nearly two hours, Chen Jing’s turn came—together with that hip-hop guy, whom he’d learned was named Li Qingwei.

“Good luck!” Li Qingwei encouraged him.

“You too,” Chen Jing replied, smiling. He was a decent guy.

Following the staff, they stood before three judges—two men and a woman, all in their forties or fifties.

Since this was the preliminary round, all performances were a cappella. There were simple instruments available for those who could play; for those who couldn’t, well, that was their own problem. Luckily, there was an accordion—exactly what Chen Jing needed.

He adjusted the instrument and bowed slightly. “Hello, judges. My name is Chen Jing, and the song I’ll perform is called ‘Birch Forest.’” Simple and direct.

The eldest judge looked at him in surprise—few contestants could play an accordion. Was this one going to be a surprise? He nodded. “Please begin your performance.”

Chen Jing cleared his mind and set his fingers to the keys. A low, resonant melody drifted out, immediately capturing the judges’ attention. They could tell at once he had real talent.

After the prelude, Chen Jing began to sing, softly:

“In the quiet village, white snow drifts…”

Indeed, Chen Jing was performing “Birch Forest” by Pu Shu—a poignant love story told in song, from his previous world.

“The sky remains overcast, doves still circling,
Who will bear witness to love and lives unmarked,
While snow keeps falling and the village lies in peace,
The youth have vanished in the birch forest…”

With the first verse’s climax, Chen Jing was completely absorbed, taking a breath, steadying himself. This song was one of his favorites from his past life; no matter how many times he heard it, the sorrowful story it told always moved him.

The somber notes continued, and everyone was astonished by his voice—especially Li Qingwei, performing nearby, who stared at Chen Jing in disbelief.

Chen Jing’s fingers never faltered; at the next cue, he sang on:

“Bad news came that afternoon,
Her beloved fell on a distant battlefield,
She quietly came to the birch forest,
Waiting there daily, her gaze never wavering…”

His voice grew more tender and mournful.

“At the end, she whispered,
‘I’m here—wait for me,
In that birch forest…’”

The music faded gently, the performance complete. Chen Jing drew a deep breath, concluding the tragic tale. He looked to the judges, awaiting their response.

For a moment, the room was silent—then applause erupted. The three judges led the way, joined by everyone present, even the other contestants.

The thunderous clapping spilled into the hallway, making those waiting outside glance at one another in confusion and whisper among themselves.

“Who just brought the house down in there?”

“It must have been someone amazing. Otherwise, why would they be so excited?”

“Great, my performance will be just like that.”

“Same here.”

“Hahaha…”

It’s true—those who love to sing are often confident.

Inside, the applause gradually subsided.

“Young man! That was truly outstanding,” praised the eldest judge, Cheng Lu. “Tell me, is this song your own original work?”

“Yes,” Chen Jing replied with a nod.

“You wrote it yourself?”

“I did.” Chen Jing kept a straight face, but inwardly he was sweating.

“Really? You’re incredibly talented!” the only female judge exclaimed. “Your performance was deeply moving. How did you compose it?”

“Uh… haha, I can’t take all the credit. I just stood on the shoulders of giants.” Chen Jing said modestly. Pu Shu, please let me borrow your shoulders for a bit.

“Chen Jing, right? Congratulations, you’re through. Just wait for the notice to attend the main competition,” the other male judge said, smiling.

“Thank you.” Chen Jing gave a slight bow.

After the audition, Chen Jing registered his information again as required, then left with Li Qingwei.

Yes, that’s right—Li Qingwei also advanced. Because Chen Jing’s performance had made such an impression, everyone in his group was given a second chance to perform, and Li Qingwei took full advantage and passed. Chen Jing suspected he might be hiding his true abilities.

“Boss Jing, let me treat you to lunch!” After learning Chen Jing was twenty-two, the twenty-one-year-old Li Qingwei started calling him “Boss.”

Chen Jing could only laugh. With his oversized clothes, long hair, and hat, Li Qingwei looked almost thirty, but in reality, he was still just twenty-one.

Inside an office at the Voice of Huaxia audition site, Lin Xi was leisurely sipping coffee, gazing out the window.

“Hm? Isn’t that…” Lin Xi spotted Chen Jing leaving with another man.

“Is he here for me, or is he competing?” she wondered aloud. Judging by his companion’s hip-hop style, it was clearly the latter.

Thinking it over, Lin Xi called out to her assistant, “Zitan, have you compiled the list of today’s qualifiers? Bring it to me.”

“Yes, Miss Xi.”

(A tribute: Pu Shu’s “Birch Forest”)