Chapter 6: The First Stage (Part One)

The figure approaching at first kept some distance, making it hard to discern his face. Yet he carried an effortless confidence, as if strolling casually through a garden, exuding an indescribable air of ease.

Up to this point in the recording, most trainees had been tense and reserved.

But Gu Jingyi moved with complete relaxation.

It was as if he hadn’t come to record a show at all, but merely to toss out some trash on the way.

The large screen displayed a close-up of Gu Jingyi’s face, prompting a wave of excited whispers around the venue.

“Justin, I just found a super handsome guy.”

“Don’t you remember? That’s Jingyi, the one I’ve been telling you about all along!”

Huang Minghao scratched his head in mild exasperation. Fan Chengcheng seemed to have been overly sheltered at home, still carrying a certain innocence and sincerity even now.

The track camera near the seating area panned again, capturing the conversation between Yue Hua’s members.

On the mentor panel, Zhou Jieqiong glanced up after viewing the screen. Her hand paused slightly, pen in grip.

She raised an eyebrow subtly at Cheng Xiao—such a stunning appearance on camera was a rarity.

The clean black attire was fresh and natural; a simple white shirt paired with a black cardigan knit caught the eye without overwhelming it.

All attention was drawn to him, not the clothes.

Standing on stage, the phrase “first love” suddenly came to everyone’s mind.

Zhang Yixing, watching Gu Jingyi’s outfit, finally relaxed his furrowed brows.

After enduring a series of lackluster performances, Gu Jingyi’s neat appearance unexpectedly improved his impression.

Zhang Yixing spoke, “Gu Jingyi, is it? Please introduce yourself.”

“Hello, mentors. I’m Gu Jingyi, a trainee from Huace Entertainment.”

Gu Jingyi met the mentors’ gazes confidently, completely at ease.

Hearing the word “mentors,” Cheng Xiao’s mind drifted back to that day…

Especially that hand, how gently it had stirred her emotions.

No one knew that beneath her strict mentor facade, her rounded thigh beneath the table trembled slightly.

“Gu Jingyi, what performance will you present?” Zhang Yixing asked.

“An acoustic song,” Gu Jingyi replied with a smile, his guitar strapped on his back.

Vocal mentor Li Ronghao looked on curiously, then nodded and glanced down at Gu Jingyi’s stage information.

The next moment, his eyes widened in surprise. He read aloud, drawing everyone’s attention back to the young man in simple attire.

Because beneath the song title, three lines stood out:

“[Lyrics]: Gu Jingyi.”

“[Composition]: Gu Jingyi.”

“[Performance]: Gu Jingyi.”

Even Director Cheng Gang backstage was surprised. He asked the assistant director beside him, “Is Xiao Gu using an original song this time? I didn’t hear Huace mention it during coordination.”

“Yes, Director Cheng, no need to worry. The production team has already reviewed the lyrics.”

The assistant director quickly explained, handing Cheng a copy of the backup lyrics Gu Jingyi had prepared.

The director skimmed the lyrics and nodded approvingly.

Meanwhile, the trainees in the studio buzzed with talk.

Nowadays, trainees rarely write their own songs. Merely meeting basic skills is considered decent.

A new rising star like Gu Jingyi showcasing original work had everyone waiting to see if he would fail at showing off.

The audience’s anticipation was raised high.

At this moment, the freshly printed lyrics were distributed to the other mentors.

As soon as the title “Slowly Falling for You” appeared, Cheng Xiao was momentarily distracted.

She barely glanced at the lyrics before the first thought bursting in her mind was: Damn, this guy is aiming straight at me.

Zhou Jieqiong remained unfazed. Her eyes scanned the lyrics line by line, then looked at Gu Jingyi with full admiration.

Zhang Yixing took the microphone and returned to the main point: “We look forward to your performance. You may begin.”

Gu Jingyi nodded and stepped behind the standing microphone.

He adjusted the height slightly, then gave an “OK” gesture toward the audience.

The stage was officially set.

Lights fell on Gu Jingyi, who stood relaxed, eyes closed. The studio was utterly silent, only the soft breaths through the microphone and the gentle strumming of guitar strings could be heard.

The prelude was a lively minor tune, like a summer breeze rustling through treetops.

Neither Cheng Xiao nor Zhou Jieqiong had much knowledge of composition, but they shared the same subjective thought—it sounded beautiful!

The other trainees in the audience echoed this feeling; the arrangement alone promised a high-quality song.

Gu Jingyi’s fingers moved across the guitar strings without any flashy techniques, simply using the most straightforward approach to gradually evoke emotion.

“The book often writes about joyous evenings, riding bikes and their whispered conversations.”

On stage, after the prelude, Gu Jingyi began to sing under the spotlight.

Mentor Li Ronghao’s eyes were wide with admiration, his face radiating approval. Even Zhang Yixing, who had remained stern throughout the recording, now showed a warm smile.

Gu Jingyi’s voice was deep and magnetic, uniquely recognizable. The moment he sang, the story in the song unfolded like a rich, aged wine in the minds of listeners.

His basics, pitch, and hardest-to-achieve emotional power were all top-notch.

“The girl’s white dress, the boy loves to see her wear it.”

“So many scenes, so many romances. So many heartbreaks, goodbyes and farewells.”

“So many days cannot be fully told.”

Gu Jingyi sang with eyes gently closed, a faint smile at his lips. His tender, lingering voice seemed to be lost in some cherished memory.

The first half of the lyrics were dense and slow, like endless spring rain falling upon everyone’s hearts.

Warm, simple sweetness that moved the soul.

Gu Jingyi, like a wandering bard, painted the scene effortlessly.

His commanding vocal presence and long breath control made Li Ronghao restless in his seat.

He glanced at Gu Jingyi with undisguised admiration. When did such a new-generation singing talent emerge in the industry? Li Ronghao had already decided to bring Gu Jingyi into his studio for proper cultivation after this recording.

The camera at the mentor panel captured everything, a close-up destined for the broadcast version.

Another iconic moment for the show “Idol Producer” was made!

Beside him, Zhou Jieqiong propped her chin on one hand, listening intently.

No wonder Gu Jingyi gave up debuting overseas as the center. If Zhou Jieqiong had such talent, she wouldn’t have debuted in a group.

South Korea’s idol industry imposed extremely strict management—every Instagram post was vetted multiple times by their company. Being invited to an awards ceremony came without a dressing room; members squeezed into a van, using phone flashlights in the mirror to touch up makeup.

Just saying it was enough to evoke sympathy.

Zhou Jieqiong turned to Cheng Xiao, hoping to share a knowing smile with her close friend.

But to her surprise, Cheng Xiao was completely stunned...