Chapter 132: "The Circle" Magazine, The God Qian Special Edition

With this song, the audience was filled with astonishment. The Qian-God in their eyes—that quintessential gentleman, that graceful youth—actually possessed a heaven-defying, explosive talent hidden beneath his calm and indifferent exterior.

It would be one thing to have such explosive talent, but he could also completely reshape his image in the hearts of his fans with a single song. From this piece, people realized that the Qian-God they saw was not merely a favored child who had sailed through life with ease; he, too, had known humility and had once struggled. Otherwise, how could he have portrayed the "little man" with such poignant, bone-deep precision?

So, you trolls, hold your tongues. The Qian-God never rose to fame by relying on Gunshi. He reached where he is today step by step through his own efforts, rising from suppression and isolation to the point where he now has countless supporters. If not for his hard work and talent, could he have become the son-in-law of Gunshi? No. To those idiots who spew that "Ren Qian is a god manufactured by Gunshi, and all the songs he writes are forged by them behind the scenes," what do you have to say now?

In front of the television set, Xiao Wang, a "moonlight clan" member who had been working for years since graduation, was also a self-proclaimed music fanatic. Since it was the weekend, he was watching television on a Friday night, and "I Am a Singer" on Jiangnan Satellite TV was his only choice. Since its premiere, this show had produced classic songs in every episode, a feature that had made countless music lovers and critics loyal fans of the program. Well, in truth, it was an excellent stage for music enthusiasts and critics to collectively show off and revel in their own pretension.

Xiao Wang was one of those music lovers. After every episode, he would post an analytical article on Weibo to gain popularity and praise. But tonight, he decided not to write a review for the show itself. He was going to write about this song, "Exaggerated"! He was going to write a masterpiece! Because this song was simply too bewitching. At first listen, one would never believe it had been created in just over twenty minutes! Quality and standards like these are something composers and lyricists might spend years polishing. And yet, this was a song that the Qian-God had finished in one go in under twenty minutes. Yes, just twenty minutes—a display of talent so overflowing that even Cao Zhi’s "seven-step poem" was no match.

Xiao Wang was so impressed by Ren Qian that he was practically ready to worship him. He decided that even if he had to stay up all night, he would finish his review. As he watched the concert, he organized his thoughts, feeling that anything less than an earth-shattering, ghost-weeping article would be a disservice to the Qian-God's "Exaggerated."

Back at the concert venue, after the song, the Qian-God coughed twice. Wen Run immediately brought him a bottle of warm tea from backstage to soothe his throat. She knew the soundboard had broken; to achieve the same effect, he had to focus entirely and strain his voice. Coupled with the difficulty of the song, it was all the more taxing. Thinking of this, Wen Run patted Ren Qian’s back with a pained expression.

"It’s fine. I don't perform it that often. The soundboard won't break so easily at future concerts."

The crowd below began to stir. "Kiss her! Kiss her!"

Ren Qian: "..." These guys were quite restless. He imagined the scene at his own upcoming solo concert—would these troublemakers act the same way? Still, the atmosphere was quite good.

He handed the microphone to the Diva and his father-in-law, who were approaching. "That song just now... it terrified both me and Feifei. Do you know why?"

"The soundboard in the back suddenly failed! A broken soundboard is a major disaster for a concert. Without one, a singer's performance is significantly compromised. Take me and Brother Lin, for example—without the soundboard, our voices would be noticeably diminished. Listen..."

With that, the Diva sang a segment of "Because of Love" without reservation. Sure enough, the audience noticed the difference. Her voice had been ethereal on stage, but now it had a slight flaw—not unpleasant, but no longer divine.

"The role of the soundboard during a live performance is equivalent to the post-production processing a singer applies after recording in a studio. See? Without the soundboard's enhancement, my voice quality takes a hit."

After the father-in-law hummed a few notes to demonstrate, the audience was stunned. Why were they being lectured about this at a concert?

"That’s not clear enough. Let’s pick an audience member to come up and sing a few lines. Who wants to? If you think you’re a decent singer, at least someone who gets compliments at karaoke..."

Thousands of hands shot up. The Diva randomly picked a tall, slim girl with flowing black hair who looked quite pretty. "Come here, girl, sing a few lines."

The girl sang a bit of Ren Qian’s "Mist and Rain." It was actually quite good, and the audience applauded.

"Pretty good, right?" The Diva smiled mysteriously and waved to the back, signaling the girl to sing again. This time, the audience was horrified. It was like demonic sounds piercing the brain, a "soulful" performance. Boos erupted, and people shouted for her to stop. The girl was embarrassed; she thought she had been singing well, but it turned out to be like howling ghosts.

"It’s alright, dear. Your voice is actually quite nice; it’s just that the soundboard is broken, which caused this effect. Many singers, without a soundboard, are actually at your level," Aunt Feifei comforted her. The father-in-law added, "What we want to tell you is that when Ren Qian performed 'Exaggerated,' the soundboard failed halfway through. But did anyone notice any flaws? Not even a hint of diminished sound quality. This proves that Ren Qian can deliver a perfect performance even without a soundboard. How terrifying is that? Let’s put it this way: besides the first generation Song-God, he is the second."

The audience was in an uproar. Could it really be that terrifying? Most singers had to rely on post-production after recording; without a soundboard, most couldn't survive. Even divas and kings relied on it to some extent. In other words, the Qian-God’s recordings didn't even need post-production. The audience took a long time to digest this before erupting into three minutes of rhythmic applause. Even the viewers in front of their TVs began to clap. They were excited, inexplicably thrilled, and proud to have such an idol.

Jiangnan TV was broadcasting the concert live. The decision proved correct, as this single event brought them a 22% viewership rating, setting a new record! Perhaps even overseas Chinese were watching; it was, after all, a grand event.

"Hey, Team Leader, do you think Ren Qian will really become the second Song-God?"

"Does that even need to be asked? Look, he’s only twenty-one and has already written so many great songs. Becoming a Song-God is just a matter of time. Once time settles, he will become an immortal monument," the team leader said with unquestionable certainty.

"Not necessarily. Look at the songs the first Song-God wrote; they had substantial social impact and profound national value. Just take those grand, ancient-style songs of his—the moment the prelude starts, it evokes a sense of national pride and the spirit of a great nation. Ren Qian is currently stuck in the stage of romance. His realm hasn't caught up yet. I estimate he won't be a Song-God until he's thirty-seven or thirty-eight," a group member interjected with a different perspective.

"It’s not as bad as you say. 'Boundless Oceans, Vast Skies' is very inspirational. 'The Story of the Stone' is a classic based on the 'Dream of the Red Chamber,' and that soundtrack is also legendary. It shouldn't be hard for Ren Qian to become a Song-God."

The staff at Jiangnan TV discussed it back and forth. The topic was whether Ren Qian could become a Song-God. They unanimously agreed on his potential, but how many years it would take was a matter of debate.

Regardless of what others thought, Ren Qian was once again propelled to the heavens by the media. As soon as the concert ended, all social media and the Weibo public platform were flooded with posts about him.

A certain A-list male singer wrote: "Perfect stage control, super-king-level presence, a natural voice that strikes the heart, coupled with talent that chases after the Song-King—all this has created a phenomenal superstar. I could die without regrets if I could catch up to even one-tenth of the Qian-God in this lifetime."

The comments below were full of teasing: "A certain A-list singer is willing to trade his butt for a song from the Qian-God; how filthy!" "A certain A-list singer live-streaming the purchase of his own butt, gaining millions of fans." "Erotic blogger, I’ve reported you."

A retired singer from an entertainment company posted: "Don't be lulled by Ren Qian’s rapid rise. I remember when I first noticed him, I looked up his information. During his college years, for an entire year, he got up at five every morning to practice his voice in a secluded part of campus. He kept it up for a whole year! I believe that even now that he's famous, Ren Qian must still be practicing tirelessly every day. Success for others is not easy. Without such self-destructive effort, how could one achieve such star-like brilliance?"

It was pure "chicken soup for the soul," but it received thousands of reposts. Why? Because Ren Qian’s fans loved it when others praised their idol. As long as you praised him, they would follow you, repost your Weibo, and boost you to the heavens.

A well-known music critic commented: "I think the lyrics of 'Exaggerated' are simply monstrous. Yes, monstrous. Only a monster could write such bone-deep lyrics. The group of 'little people' is displayed vividly in this song; even their bones have been carved out. I’ve reviewed so many songs, but I hesitated for three hours before writing this one... because I was afraid of ruining it, and the Qian-God's forty million fans would tear me apart..."

Top comment: "If you ruin it, we won't tear you apart. We’ll just watch silently as you close your Weibo account."

The next few days were filled with heavy-hitting features in entertainment magazines and headlines on web news, all about how fierce and heaven-defying Ren Qian’s performance was.

Sohu Entertainment’s top headline: "Three Superstars, One Stage, Soundboard Failure Reveals the Qian-God’s Heaven-Defying Vocal Ability!"

Tencent Entertainment’s top featured news: "Crushing All Singers: Is His Vocal Foundation Natural or Trained? Taking You into the Musical World of the Qian-God!"

On the third day, *The Circle* magazine released a special issue for the Qian-God. Why did they do this? Because the last time they featured a segment on him, sales jumped by four million copies. A twenty percent increase in annual profit! Driven by greed, they naturally flocked to him. Having tasted the sweetness, *The Circle* decided to lick the Qian-God’s boots all the way to the end and go big. If they could get another four-million-copy jump, their position as the leader of entertainment magazines would be secured.

The special issue was displayed in the most prominent positions at newsstands across the empire. The cover featured the Qian-God on a wide, brightly lit stage with a calm expression, accompanied by the striking words: "I use the exaggeration of a little person to inspire the world." Such a cover was enough to make fans buy it! It was insane! Newsstand owners found that this magazine was snatched up as soon as it hit the shelves, with people constantly asking for more.

The storm of the "Peak Concert" hadn't passed, and Ren Qian didn't dare to go out—fame has its downsides. However, his bank account recently saw an influx of over fifteen million. According to the text messages, it was from *The Circle* for the use of his portrait rights and other permitted content. Ren Qian was overjoyed; he hadn't expected the magazine to be so principled. This wasn't just two or three hundred thousand—it was fifteen million!

But then he calmed down. Many people in the empire were influenced by traditional culture and had their own backbone. "A gentleman loves wealth but acquires it in the right way"—this concept was deeply rooted in their minds. So, giving Ren Qian his due share of the profits was only right. Since he was rich now, Ren Qian immediately paid off his mortgage. From now on, the villa belonged entirely to him and his sweet Wen Run!

As time passed, Ren Qian couldn't stay home forever. Occasionally, he and his girl would put on masks and go to the mall to play or buy clothes for his nurse-girlfriend. Girls, after all, love to shop.

"Qian-ge, listen... this is your song. I think it’s beautiful, but it’s too sad."

Ren Qian pricked up his ears—it was "Always Very Quiet." As they walked a few steps further, they found another shop playing "Boundless Oceans, Vast Skies," and then, moving forward, the sound of "Exaggerated" drifted over. In the vast mall, almost every store was playing music by Ren Qian. Even if he wasn't singing, he had written the lyrics or composed the music.

"Look, you’ve become a sensation in every street and alley. Does it feel like a dream, Qian-ge? Do you remember half a year ago when you were lying weakly in a hospital bed?"

"This is all thanks to you!" Ren Qian squeezed his girlfriend’s hand as they stepped onto the escalator, the crowd flowing through the mall... just like the most cliché scene in a movie. (To be continued.)