Chapter 152: Voices from the Outside World!

The piano melody continued.

The more Jiang Lun sang, the more surging his emotions became.

Down in the audience.

Zhang Yilin, a renowned Hong Kong singer who debuted in the 1970s, had tears welling up in his eyes.

Listening to Jiang Lun perform this Cantonese song live, his feelings were carried back to the era he had once walked through—an era worth cherishing yet impossible to return to.

Beside him, Li Zhiqing, who debuted in the late 1980s, was likewise overwhelmed with reflections.

Li Zhiqing had managed to catch the very last train of the Cantonese pop era. In his early years, he had released a few Cantonese albums, but later, influenced by the rise of the mainland market, he became one of the first singers to abandon Cantonese songs and fully transition to Mandarin pop.

The singers from his era had gone their separate ways: some retired from the music scene to work behind the scenes, some completely changed professions to enter the business or political worlds, while others, just like him, fought to carve out a piece of territory in the Mandarin music market.

Yet, looking back and pondering, what had they ever done for the very land beneath their feet?

Nothing at all. Instead, they had lost the most precious sentiment of all.

In the auditorium.

Native-born older generations of Guangdong locals felt tears spinning in their sockets.

They listened intently to this passionate Cantonese song, recalling many things from their youth.

As for the younger generation, they were struck with a sudden realization: since when could Cantonese songs sound this astonishingly good?

Liu Yun, the chairman of the Pioneer Chart organizing committee and director of Guangdong Music Radio, rubbed his throbbing temples and said to the person beside him, "Hehe, this Jiang Lun's Cantonese pronunciation is a bit unstandardized!"

"Indeed!"

The person next to him hurriedly chimed in, but upon looking up and seeing Liu Yun's bloodshot eyes, quickly handed over a tissue. "Director Liu..."

"I... hehe, made a fool of myself!"

Liu Yun took the tissue, looking rather embarrassed.

Back in the day, when he was still a radio announcer, every single day broadcasted Cantonese songs. In those times, he would receive countless letters from listeners every day, hoping he would play specific songs or sending various blessings.

Back then, a single word of praise from the audience could make him happy for a long time.

And now? Cantonese songs were played less often, and sometimes not even a single request would be made in an entire week.

Not only that, but while viewing audience comments had become much easier—leaving messages on Weibo or the radio station's homepage with increasingly convenient pathways—he hadn't felt that kind of joy in a long time. Those letters from listeners, carrying the scent of printing ink, remained the most beautiful memories of his youth.

Other audience members and stars who initially couldn't understand Cantonese songs had started off frowning in disdain, but music, when done well, is never hindered by language; the emotions it transmits can touch people's hearts all the same.

Even if they only caught a lyric or two by chance, such as the climactic line, "Forgive me for this lifetime of untamed indulgence in loving freedom," after Jiang Lun sang it twice, they understood its meaning.

The song concluded.

A dead silence filled the entire venue!

Jiang Lun rose from the piano bench, walked to the front of the stage, bowed, and prepared to step down.

Suddenly!

Many people in the audience stood up.

First were those Hong Kong singers.

Then came the local Guangdong residents, whether regular audience members or staff.

Following that, those who could understand some Cantonese dialects also stood up.

From the very first person, it spread to a small section of the crowd!

Then a hundred people, a thousand people, until finally, everyone in the entire hall rose to their feet and burst into applause!

"Clap, clap, clap!"

No one shouted or made a ruckus; they simply applauded.

It was just like a high-brow classical concert.

Jiang Lun, who had just been about to walk off the stage, paused his steps abruptly, straightened up, looked out at the audience, and finally gave a deeply sincere bow, saying, "Thank you!"

This was the word he had used most often tonight.

That single expression of thanks only made the applause thunder even louder.

It continued unabated until he walked off the stage and returned to his seat.

Within the phalanx of Hong Kong singers,

Zhang Yilin said to Li Zhiqing, "Let's properly produce another Cantonese album. We can find a few of the old singers, everyone contributes one song, and even if we lose money, this will be our last one!"

"Mm, I've had the same thought!"

Li Zhiqing nodded. "Should I invite Jiang Lun? We can include this song of his in our album!"

"If you can persuade him, that would be wonderful!"

Zhang Yilin nodded. "I'll go contact some of the veteran lyricists from the past. It's been so many years without works; I'm afraid they might be a bit rusty!"

Jiang Lun's performance had stirred up the sentiments of countless people.

Especially among those Hong Kong singers, the rekindled impulse burned fiercely like fireworks.

After the show ended.

Jiang Lun had barely stood up when he was surrounded by a crowd of people.

Among them were media reporters whose tongues were the fastest, tossing out questions directly.

"Jiang Lun, what was the name of the song you just sang?"

"Amani!"

"Why did you choose a Cantonese song to perform on this occasion?"

"Being moved by the scenery, I suppose," Jiang Lun smiled. "Besides, today we are in Guangzhou!"

"May I ask when you wrote this song?"

"I wrote it quite a while ago," Jiang Lun said. "But with the decline of the Cantonese song market, I never had the opportunity to perform it."

"Does that mean *Amani* wasn't written on the spot just now?"

"No, it wasn't!" Jiang Lun shook his head.

"Master Jiang, have you ever thought about revitalizing Cantonese opera and songs?"

A reporter asked in Cantonese.

"Ah, just let nature take its course!"

Jiang Lun shook his head and replied smoothly in Cantonese.

"Then do you think Cantonese music still has a chance of resurrection?"

"Uh..." Jiang Lun smiled. This question was indeed not easy to answer. "I wouldn't dare speak rashly. As I said before, just let nature take its course!"

The two of them conversed in Cantonese until a reporter who couldn't understand a word grew anxious. "Excuse me, Jiang Lun, could you please speak Mandarin?"

"Ah, I'm sorry!"

Jiang Lun switched back to Mandarin. "Please go ahead!"

"As far as I know, you are a northerner, not from Guangdong. How is it that you speak Cantonese?"

"Hehe!"

Jiang Lun smiled and said, "I am collaborating with the New Jingwu Company to shoot a movie. Their general manager, Mr. Huo Gang, has been working with me for the past six months, and he is the one who taught me Cantonese."

"Shooting a movie?"

The topic instantly shifted to the film *Fist of Legend*, and the reporters possessed the keen sense of smell. Questions instantly pivoted from Cantonese songs to cinema.

In terms of current entertainment trends, the topic heat of a movie was far higher than that of Cantonese songs.

The reporters never expected such an unexpected harvest from interviewing at the Chinese Music Awards.

"Jiang Lun, may I ask if the title of the movie you are shooting has been finalized?"

"It has!"

Jiang Lun smiled. "But I can't reveal it right now. I can only tell you that the lead actor is an international martial arts superstar and our country's renowned martial artist, Mr. Jet Li!"

"What? Master Jet Li?"

"How can that be? Didn't he immigrate to Southeast Asia and retire from the film industry?"

"That's right, I heard Hollywood wanted him to make movies, and he didn't take them!"

Listening to these remarks from the reporters, Jiang Lun smiled. "He once sought guidance on the Huo Family Fist from Mr. Huo Dongfang, the chairman of New Jingwu. The two of them are both mentors and friends. He is participating in this film free of charge, also for the sake of promoting our country's martial arts."

Doubts clouded the minds of every reporter, and instantly they held back a flood of questions they wanted to ask.

Who wouldn't care about a film starring Jiang Lun and Jet Li?

"Jiang Lun, what about you? Since the male lead is Jet Li, what role are you playing?"

"In the current plans, I am not acting in it. But if the production crew needs me, I won't stand idly by!"

"Then what exactly are you doing in this production? Director? Or producer?"

"I will explain everything at the press conference hosted by New Jingwu tomorrow afternoon. I hope everyone will pay close attention then!"

Upon hearing this, the reporters realized they certainly wouldn't get any more answers today, but it only made them anticipate tomorrow's press conference all the more. Some of them had already accepted the invitation. Originally thinking it was just a low-budget martial arts drama, they never expected Jiang Lun to be involved in its production and Jet Li to star as the male lead. The lineup was simply too formidable, and anticipation surged instantly among them.

"Mr. Jiang, your television series hasn't even been released yet, and now you're participating in a movie. Are you planning to develop a career in the film and television industry?"

"To be precise, it's developing in the direction of film and television production, but that is not my primary focus; my main profession remains music!"

After answering a few more questions, the reporters finally let Jiang Lun go.

Yet no sooner had the reporters left than a group of Hong Kong singers who had been waiting for a long time swarmed over.

They had also just finished being interviewed, albeit not for as long as Jiang Lun.

"Hello, Jiang Lun. I am Zhang Yilin. I was deeply moved by your song just now!"

"Hello, Brother Lin!" Jiang Lun greeted with a smile. "Your songs were a huge enlightenment to me, especially your Cantonese tracks. Back when I was singing resident gigs in Beijing bars, almost every day someone would request them!"

"Haha, all in the past!"

Zhang Yilin was very pleased, but as a purely commercial singer, he was also quite helpless. "The current market dictates the works; it's been a long time since I made a Cantonese song myself!"

Jiang Lun smiled. "If there's an opportunity, I hope Brother Lin and I can collaborate!"

"We certainly can!" Zhang Yilin seized the chance to say. "I happen to have a project I'd like to collaborate with you on. How about we put out a Cantonese album together? We can get those old timers out, everyone contributes one song, as a tribute of nostalgia!"

"Sounds good!"

Jiang Lun nodded. "You are reminiscing, while I am paying tribute!"

...

The next day.

The headlines of all major media outlets were once again monopolized by Jiang Lun.

People's eyes were already growing numb. It was Jiang Lun yesterday, Jiang Lun today—would it still be Jiang Lun tomorrow?

Unlike yesterday's sweeping victory of twelve trophies, today's news headlines took an entirely sentimental and nostalgic route.

*"Amani: A New Rise for the Cantonese Song Era, or Continued Decline?"*

*"Can the Cantonese Pop Market Make a Comeback?"*

*"Pioneer Chart: Jiang Lun Performs New Song, Inspiring a Vast and Boundless Cantonese Music Future!"*

*"Jiang Lun Pays Tribute to the Cantonese Song Era, Belting Out Amani at the Pioneer Chart Awards Ceremony!"*

Even many media outlets in Hong Kong gave Jiang Lun their front-page headlines.

Easy Listen Music uploaded the live version of *Amani* at the earliest possible moment and rapidly shared it on a large scale via Weibo reposts.

Many people went to listen to the song purely because of Jiang Lun, though hearing that it was in Cantonese made them somewhat hesitant.

However, after listening through the main verses, not a single person was willing to cut the track short. Once the climax passed, they had already uncontrollably hit the button to loop the single.

At the same time.

Renowned musician and music critic Sun Liangke published a music review on his blog:

"Yesterday, I had the privilege of attending the Music Pioneer Chart Awards Ceremony and listened to Jiang Lun's *Amani* there. This is a piece of music of earth-shattering magnitude!

Why do I say this? Because the grand and boundless momentum throughout the entire song, along with the sentiment of pursuing freedom, completely transports people into the most lofty and distant realm—something rarely seen in contemporary Chinese pop music.

The opening rhythm begins low and subdued, with fragmented piano notes that captivate the listener. I can deeply feel that sentiment of transcending oneself, that grand aspiration held within a vast chest!

This song can also be said to be a manifesto; Jiang Lun wanted to use this piece of music to tell the world about his goals, his ideals, and his music!

In the climax section, he even cried out lyrics like, *'Still free and independent, forever singing my songs loudly, traveling across thousands of miles.'*

This shows his belief that there is always a vast and boundless world waiting for him in the distance.

The distant horizon is a pure land, holding his own ideals and his own music.

Though the song appears to have only a few short stanzas of lyrics, I always feel that Jiang Lun has imbued this music with too much emotion, too much sustenance, too much hope, too much thought, too much ambition and ideal.

A person who lives for grand ideals will inevitably suffer hardships greater than others. The realm of ideals is so out of reach, yet his ambition is so vast!

If it were anyone else, having achieved such glorious success right upon debut, they might feel completely satisfied, perhaps content to die without regrets, perhaps drifting along aimlessly and living a cowardly, muddled existence.

Some people subsist on a single song for over a decade, coasting through a lifetime.

Yet he is no ordinary person; he is Jiang Lun. How could he possibly betray his ideals and live a muddled existence?

Winning twelve trophies at the Chinese Music Awards and eight trophies at the Pioneer Chart represents a small peak for a newcomer. At this rate, reaching the absolute summit is merely a matter of three to five years.

At the venue, when he accepted his awards and simply said 'Thank you,' I heard many people whispering, calling him bloated, claiming he had lost himself, labeling him as arrogant and conceited, saying he had forgotten his past...

Yet I feel that his simple 'Thank you' was nothing of the sort. He has not grown bloated, he hasn't lost himself, nor has he become hopelessly trapped by his current achievements.

He is thinking!

Do these people right before my eyes truly comprehend my music?

Do you understand my ideals?

Thinking of this, he feels such deep disappointment!

No one ever manages to read his music, no one understands his ideals.

Standing on high, he looks down at the crowd below and sees nothing but a mob of common rabble!

Despicable! Shameless! Filthy!

He is furious! He curses! He resents!

The drifting snow in the sky is just like his dreams for music, falling piece by piece!

Yet all he can do is watch quietly!

Enduring his silent rage!

In this world filled with money, at every single moment, various crooked paths tempt oneself. Sometimes even he cannot distinguish the direction, getting lost and losing the path ahead!

He is also using this song to awaken himself!

The entertainment industry is a vanity fair, a giant dyeing vat. Let him not lose his ideals because of the temptations of others." (To be continued.)