Chapter 20: Extraordinary Performance

The stage of "I Am a Singer" was breathtakingly beautiful, clearly reflecting the heavy investment the production team had made in its design. The studio and sound system were impressive, free from any interference or echoes. Yet, to achieve the pinnacle of musical programming, further enhancements in the sound system and the accompaniment band were still needed—perhaps a richer ensemble and the addition of a choir would make it flawless.

Of course, meeting such standards would require millions more in funding, enough to give the producers headaches. Given the show's current ratings and popularity, the stage and audio effects already stood out as exceptional. After all, one couldn’t expect the production to run at a loss purely for the public’s benefit.

On stage, the hostess in a long white evening gown was the leading presenter of Eastern Satellite Television in this world. Yu Zhile had researched her online; the hostess, Ni Qiqin, was quite popular and bore a resemblance to Cao Ying from "Wulong Chuang Qing Guan," though her features lacked the striking mole that made Cao Ying so memorable.

After announcing Fan Di’s votes, Ni Qiqin continued, “All seven singers have now performed! Next to take the stage is Qin Haiyu, who failed in the first round of last week’s challenge and ranked far behind in votes. Based on last week’s scores and ranking, it will be extremely difficult for her to succeed in this challenge! This time, she brings us a song sharing the same name as a novel—composed by her beloved for the readers. Will she, encouraged by love, withstand the pressure and deliver a perfect interpretation? Let’s welcome singer Qin Haiyu with enthusiastic applause as she performs ‘Little Luck’!”

Ni Qiqin’s hosting skills were remarkable; she spoke without a script throughout, unlike other presenters who clung to their cue cards. It was only fitting that she held the top post at Eastern Satellite Television—her eloquence, measured pace, and clear, melodious voice made her presence genuinely pleasant.

As she stepped aside, the auditorium lights dimmed, and a soft, golden beam illuminated the star-lit pathway leading onto the stage.

A fleeting silhouette gradually came into focus along the path. Qin Haiyu wore pale blue canvas shoes, straight-leg jeans with fashionable rips—popular among young women—and a fitted white shirt. Her entrance radiated the spirit of youth.

It was hard to believe she was a mother; her outfit and look made her seem like a fresh-faced girl. Yu Zhile, watching from the side, almost failed to recognize his own wife, surprised by her transformation. She hadn’t left home dressed like this, so it was evident she’d carefully chosen her attire for “Little Luck.”

Her airy fringe and ponytail, curling softly behind her head, made her look years younger—as if she’d returned to her university days.

Qin Haiyu gripped the microphone calmly, nodded to the band to signal she was ready. She hadn’t rehearsed beforehand; she’d arrived at the studio barely half an hour before recording began, spending those minutes changing, applying light makeup, and styling her hair. As long as the band was prepared, she wasn’t worried about faltering; it was her confidence in herself and in her husband’s abilities.

She adjusted her in-ear monitor, lowered her head slightly, and listened to the familiar melody arranged by her husband and played by the band. She measured each beat precisely; at this moment, the audience faded away—only the stage remained. It was as if she became one with it.

Her mind drifted back to those beautiful university days…

Five years ago, on the evening of May 20, 2020.

A young man, guitar in hand, sang a song titled “Sea of Love” at the door of her dormitory. The tune wasn’t perfect, but it was moving, and he suddenly confessed his feelings to her.

She didn’t know him well then, so blushing, she stepped out and gently declined, saying she wouldn’t date before graduation, but if he truly liked her, he could wait and confess again after graduation.

He replied joyfully, “Then I’ll wait until after graduation to confess!”

Only a semester later, he invited her to the sports field and gave her a novel called “Sea of Love,” saying it was written for her, and confessed again.

The first confession—a song named “Sea of Love,” composed by Yu Zhile…

The second—a novel called “Sea of Love,” authored by Zi Feiyu…

Both the song and the novel, sharing the same name, hinted at his love for Qin Haiyu.

Yet she shyly refused a second time, with the same reason, but kept the novel. That night, she nearly read it till dawn.

From that moment, her heart was stirred.

When Yu Zhile brought her the second volume of “Sea of Love” and confessed a third time, she impulsively accepted.

Yu Zhile was so ecstatic he hugged her and spun around on the sports field. That day, they embraced for the first time, held hands for the first time—both nervous and tongue-tied.

That evening, as she returned to the dormitory with the second volume, her roommate excitedly asked where she’d gotten it, as it wasn’t supposed to be available until the next day. Only then did she realize the novel Yu Zhile had written for her was a hit, with impressive online sales.

Thinking back, Qin Haiyu felt nostalgic.

Those university days were the happiest and most unforgettable of her life. Thanks to Yu Zhile’s presence, she overcame years of repression and sorrow from family upheaval.

The stage lights cast a gentle, almost pitiable glow on Qin Haiyu’s sweet face.

“Mom, Dad, Grandpa, Grandma, I’m doing very well and I’m happy now. You can rest easy.”

Qin Haiyu raised the microphone and sang, pouring her heart into the song her husband had written for his readers. It was a tribute—to the readers, and to the novel of the same name that had been left unfinished.

The background screen displayed the lyrics—a feature Yu Zhile appreciated, as it allowed the audience to follow along.

“I hear raindrops falling on verdant grass,
I hear distant school bells ringing at the end of class,
But I never hear your voice,
Calling my name with earnest care…”

Qin Haiyu exceeded all expectations!

Yu Zhile listened, reassured by the perfect, stirring opening. The emotion in her voice was palpable. He knew why her singing was so heartfelt—her tragic family history had made her acutely sensitive and easily moved.

She was perfectly suited for singing sorrowful ballads. Her performance of “Little Luck” easily resonated, sparking memories—like a return to those youthful, student days.

The judges and audience listened quietly, absorbed in the final song of the night.

After last week’s disappointing performance, no one expected much from Qin Haiyu now. And since the song was composed by her novelist husband, they were even more certain her performance would end in failure.

After all, could a novelist write a good song? Surely it would be full of awkward, rhymeless lyrics.

Yet, from the first note, Qin Haiyu stunned them!

No awkwardness, no lack of rhyme—none of it.

She sang on, recalling the scene in “Little Luck” where the protagonists’ first love ended—a heartbreaking moment that had moved countless readers to tears.

This song was tailor-made for the novel.

She sang with emotion, carefully applying the singing techniques her husband had taught her. To avoid excessive breathing sounds, she would naturally move the microphone away or turn her head during breaks.

Soon, the climax arrived, and the audience was swept into the song’s emotions.

“It turns out you are the luck I most wished to keep,
It turns out we and love once stood so close,
That decision to stand against the world for me,
That rain you endured with me,
Every moment was you,
Your pure and unblemished heart…”

In that instant, even the judges in front, who had been whispering, fell silent.

They hadn’t expected the song to be so beautiful.

Qin Haiyu’s singing took them back to those innocent days of student love.

Some thought of their first romance; others remembered their first heartbreak.

Their feelings surfaced, drawn forth by “Little Luck.”

“Meeting you was such a blessing,
But I’ve lost the right to cry for you,
May you spread your wings far beyond my sight,
May your destined one find you,
And may she be so lucky…”

As the final note faded, Yu Zhile noticed several women in the front rows had started to cry. He didn’t know if they were genuinely moved or if they were hired to stir up emotions. But Qin Haiyu’s “Little Luck” was truly touching and beautiful.

In just over four minutes, the performance ended.

Yu Zhile watched, relieved and proud at Qin Haiyu’s exceptional performance. He gazed at her, seeing only her profile, but was reassured that despite the moving song, she hadn’t shed tears.

It was time to leave.

Yu Zhile quietly exited the studio, just as he had quietly entered.

Qin Haiyu instinctively looked toward the stage’s exit and caught sight of Yu Zhile’s departing figure.

That silhouette—wasn’t it her husband?

She paused, then remembered he was supposed to be at home caring for their child—how could he have come to watch her sing?

She collected herself, picked up the microphone, and softly thanked the audience…