Doushou livestreaming room.
"??? Holy crap! What song is this? Is that Beijing Opera in the chorus...?"
"You can always count on CCTV for a music variety show. The moment the chorus kicked in, I got goosebumps all over!"
"This is unreal, the vibrato on that 'Buddha' note just sent my soul flying!"
"Xu An? Never heard of him, is he a rookie? Are newcomers this ridiculously good nowadays?"
"These lyrics are amazing, the melody is great, and the vocals are top-tier. I give up."
"I honestly thought nobody could top the closing spot, but I guess I was wrong. Not only did he top it, he completely crushed it!"
...
...
Dunhuang stage.
The music kept playing, and Xu An continued to sing with deep emotion.
At this moment, Xu An was completely immersed in the music, as if nothing happening in the outside world could affect him.
Moving from his initial nervousness to complete immersion the moment he sang the first word, he suddenly realized that singing on stage was genuinely a joy.
In front of the monitors.
The director's mouth fell open in a daze, his walkie-talkie slipping from his hand as if he hadn't even noticed.
He had never expected anything from Xu An; that was precisely why he had arranged for him to sing first.
Now it seemed he was wrong—profoundly and utterly wrong.
This guy... he really made a blockbuster entrance.
Standing beside him, the assistant director looked no better, his mouth wide enough to swallow a whole egg.
Through sheer coincidence, had they actually stumbled upon a piece of buried gold?
Wasn't he a graduate of the Beijing Conservatory of Music?
Since when did an undergraduate in composition have such incredible vocal skills?
And these lyrics—are we sure he didn't graduate from Tsinghua or Peking University's history department?
Xu An's sudden eruption shocked and astonished everyone.
Chu Xingjun sat composed on the sofa, her wide eyes shifting from brief astonishment to admiration and awe.
Laymen watch the show, while professionals watch the craft.
A layman would simply think the song sounded nice, but only a professional could tell that whether in arrangement or lyricism, the song was top-tier in the industry.
Especially Xu An's gentle voice and the slight operatic singing style in the chorus, which elevated the entire song to its absolute peak.
It also sparked a realization within her.
So traditional singing... could actually incorporate elements of Beijing Opera.
This thought occurred not only to Chu Xingjun, but also to the arrangers seated not far away, who experienced a sudden epiphany.
As for excitement, however, that belonged to the lyricists. Xu An's song Watching the Murals completely blew their minds.
Ancient style combined with operatic vocals—this was a domain they had never dared to explore.
Not that such attempts hadn't been made before, but those songs always felt disjointed, with a degree of fusion close to zero.
Now that they had a benchmark, they believed that future research into ancient-style operatic vocals would undoubtedly spring up like bamboo shoots after rain.
The descriptions and metaphors of the Dunhuang murals within the lyrics also had the three resident historians and literature experts nodding continuously.
Clearly, the imagery in the lyrics had won the unanimous approval of all three.
Gradually, the song came to an end.
Xu An lowered the microphone and let out a deep breath. His expression was calm, but his heart was pounding wildly.
Performing on stage... actually didn't feel half bad.
This was what Xu An was thinking at that very moment—an unprecedented sense of liberation and exhilaration that KTV could never possibly compare to.
Just as the host Zhu Shi was walking onto the stage, the three history and literature experts seated in the front row began to applaud in unison—something that had not happened during the performances of the other four contestants.
Seeing the three experts clap, the four guest judges on either side quickly followed suit.
Seeing this, Xu An smiled and bowed toward the front. "Thank you all for the applause."
By this time, Zhu Shi had also reached the stage, stopping about a meter away from Xu An. She looked him up and down with a slightly exaggerated expression. "Oh my god, are you sure this is your first time performing on stage?"
As the host of the show, Zhu Shi was naturally privy to insider information—namely, that Xu An had essentially been roped in as a last-minute favor and had zero stage experience.
A fresh graduate, and it's fine if his songwriting is good, but how could his stage presence be this steady?
The audience in front of their televisions and in the livestreaming room were all utterly shocked upon hearing Zhu Shi's words.
This guy is performing on stage for the very first time? You've got to be kidding me!
Looking at the astonished Zhu Shi, Xu An nodded in response. "This really is my first time on stage. Back in college, I never even made it onto the stage for the welcome gala."
Hearing Xu An's reply, everyone was completely dumbfounded.
This really was his first time?
And he was this steady on his first try?
Then I give up.
"It looks like you were naturally born to do this..." Zhu Shi sighed with emotion.
Whether it was his looks, figure, or talent, the guy was simply far too well-suited to be a singer. Who knows, she might just be witnessing the birth of a singing king right here.
Xu An didn't reply. As for whether he was meant to eat this bowl of rice, he didn't care all that much; he was far more concerned about other matters, such as the girl named Yan Luomeng.
"Just now, I saw all three experts applaud. I'd like to ask Teacher Zhang Yanping, why did you decide to clap?"
Zhu Shi looked at Zhang Yanping, who was seated in the middle of the three, and asked curiously.
Zhang Yanping picked up the microphone and sat back on the sofa. "I'm a historian, so I'm not very eloquent and don't really know how to speak well. But as for that song Watching the Murals just now, the lyrics and the melody complemented each other to absolute perfection.
I don't understand composition, but when it comes to the lyrics, I won't make a fool of myself here. Let's have Wenren Feng, who knows much more about this, explain it."
When it came to the history of the Dunhuang Grottoes, Zhang Yanping could certainly talk quite a bit.
But as for evaluating the lyrics, while he could appreciate the mood and imagery, to analyze them in detail was something he felt he couldn't quite manage.
Wenren Feng took the microphone handed to him by Zhang Yanping and shook his head with a smile. "Since you were asked to speak, you should have just spoken. What's the point of dragging me into this?"
Zhu Shi chimed in, "Then, Mr. Wen, would you mind telling everyone about it?"
Hearing Zhu Shi's words, everyone broke into applause, with Zhang Yanping clapping the loudest.
Wenren Feng shook his head, gave a light cough, and said, "Regarding the song Watching the Murals, just as Lao Zhang said, it complements the subject matter wonderfully and is exceptionally well-integrated.
I won't say much about the rest of the lyrics; I believe everyone understands them, as they are quite literal.
In my memory, however, there is one particular line that is especially interesting.
'The painted faces change, yet how can the brilliant grotto murals no longer be seen.'
The second half is easy to understand, but what I find fascinating are the three words 'painted faces change.'
On the surface, these three words refer to the aging or alteration of human features.
Here, however, the phrase 'painted faces' can be understood as the appearances of the figures once depicted in the murals, which have altered over the passage of time.
The beautiful countenances represented by these figures have changed and are no longer the vibrant images they were when first painted.
I wonder if any of you have read Li Yu's *Yu Meiren*.
One line in that ci poetry goes: 'The carved balustrades and jade steps should still be there, only the painted faces have changed.' I imagine the two share the same meaning.
From a cultural perspective, 'the painted faces change' also hints at the challenges and dilemmas faced by Dunhuang culture in the process of transmission.
With the development of times, some traditional skills and cultural connotations may gradually be forgotten or faded.
Much like the 'painted faces change' of the murals, it requires people to value, protect, and pass them on so as to prevent them from completely losing their former brilliance and value."
......