Chapter 40: Rock and Peking Opera!

Garen learned the song in half an hour, then hastily wrote down the lyrics and notation before bursting out of his room, racing to Chen Yingying’s side. “How about singing a duet with me tomorrow?”

Chen Yingying was startled by Garen’s sudden approach. Once she regained her composure, she replied softly, “Is it that song of yours, ‘From Avenue 87 to Bund No. 18’? I can’t sing that!”

“Not that one…” Garen shook his head, then muttered, “Wait… Is that even my song? I never write songs with titles that long.”

“Isn’t it the pop rap you sang in the Magic City?” Chen Yingying said. “Everyone online is calling it that. By the way, when will you release an official recording? People are waiting!”

Garen nearly saw stars at her words—who came up with such a name? But it was his own fault; he’d never mentioned the title.

That wasn’t what concerned him now. “It’s not that song, it’s a new one!”

“What? A new song?” Even Chen Yingying was surprised. “You wrote another new song?”

“That’s right!” Garen said. “This one has an opera section, and I need your help. Of all the people I know, only you can do it!”

“Oh, don’t put me on such a pedestal!” Chen Yingying tapped Garen’s forehead with her finger. “You know I can’t sing, and opera vocals are completely different from singing! Besides… you’ve heard me sing before!”

At this, Chen Yingying blushed.

Once, she and a few classmates from her arts exam class went to karaoke, and Garen was there too. Unable to shake her operatic style, she ruined a whole song, and swore never to sing again.

Yet not half a year later, Garen brought it up again, making her uncomfortable.

“It’s not what you think!” Garen shook his head. “Here, let me sing it for you.”

He picked up his guitar and the lyrics he’d written, and began to sing, “One night in Beijing! I left behind so much love, whether you love or not, it’s all dust in history! One night in Beijing! I left behind so much love, I dare not ask my way at midnight, afraid of wandering into the depths of the Hundred Flowers…”

Suddenly, Garen pinched his voice, mimicking the Beijing opera style, “People say deep in the Hundred Flowers, there lives an old lover, sewing embroidered shoes, a serene-faced elder, still waiting for her returning soldier…”

“Pfft!” Chen Yingying burst out laughing before he was halfway through.

“Cough, cough!” Garen’s face reddened. “See, I can’t capture that flavor. That’s exactly why I need your help!”

“No way!” Chen Yingying shook her head like a rattle drum. “I’ll teach you how to sing, but I won’t go on stage! That’d be mortifying!”

“What’s so embarrassing about it?” Garen chuckled. “Actually, I’ve decided: you’ll wear opera costume on stage. That’ll be stunning!”

“The more you talk, the more outrageous it gets! Opera costume?” Chen Yingying rolled her eyes. “I don’t have any with me!”

“No worries, I’ll find one for you!”

“Still not singing!”

“Come on, listen—the later parts are all yours. Just hear it!” Garen began to sing again, “Don’t want to ask anymore, where you truly are! Don’t want to ponder, whether you’ll return…”

“Enough, enough!” Before he could finish two lines, Chen Yingying interrupted. “Fine! I’ll do it. Just stop singing, your voice is too effeminate!”

“How’s that?” Garen grumbled, then quickly laughed, “Come on, let me teach you…”

…

When Maile delivered the work permit, it was already seven in the evening.

Garen took Chen Yingying along to meet the members of the Zodiac Band—they’d already been notified to find a suitable rehearsal space.

True to their word, the group had found a rehearsal room at a nearby vocational high school, which was on holiday and thus unattended.

When both parties met in the rehearsal room, Garen introduced Chen Yingying to them, keeping the relationship vague, but everyone picked up the implication.

The guys exchanged knowing glances. Akai sighed, “So we should call her ‘sister-in-law’? Hey, Garen, can’t you leave some hope for the rest of us? You’re hitting the jackpot in both career and love, making the single wanderers jealous!”

Garen laughed, “We’re still just getting started! Let’s skip the chat and get to rehearsing!”

“Alright, we’ll wait for you to really get going!” someone replied.

Rehearsal began with their previous songs. “Gardenia Blossoms” didn’t quite fit; Garen liked it at first listen, but after singing it a few times, found it lackluster. “Once You” was more satisfying—every performance brought a different feeling.

The folk songs were settled. At last, Garen slowly produced the sheet music for “One Night in Beijing,” handing it to the six band members. “This is the new song—rock style! Take a look.”

The six were stunned.

Another new song—already?

“When did you write this?” Akai asked, looking at the notation, softly humming the melody.

Garen replied casually, “Today.”

“Hey, these sections are really high—can you sing them?” Damao, holding his guitar, was sight-reading and strumming. The parts he pointed out were those meant for Chen Yingying.

“I’m not singing those!” Garen gestured to Chen Yingying. “She is!”

“Oh! Sister-in-law’s singing?” The group understood, but wondered, “Is she a singer?”

Chen Yingying shook her head. “No, I study Beijing opera.”

“Whoa!” Akai immediately caught on. “So those are opera segments?”

Garen nodded with a smile. “Exactly.”

“But how do we handle accompaniment? None of us do opera backing!”

The band was at a loss.

“We’re mixing rock style with opera vocals,” Garen explained.

“Really?” Damao exclaimed. “You’re actually going for it?”

“Why not?” Garen grinned. “I want to do what others don’t.”

Akai wiped his brow. “You’re going to get blasted by both the opera and rock communities! Last time you did that pop rap, the rap guys roasted you, and now you’re courting controversy again?”

Garen hadn’t paid much attention—he’d been busy with performances lately and hadn’t checked social media.

Thanks to the pop rap, when Zodiac Band returned to Beijing, many of their old underground rap friends ignored them.

There was criticism from the pop music world, but since Garen wasn’t famous, the song hadn’t caused much stir—only in the Magic City did it gain traction, while Beijing was calm.

Another group criticizing him were actors led by Huang Daming, those the media touted as “stars who sing as well as they act.”

But their criticisms were only mild, never overt—after all, they were celebrities and valued their reputation.

Garen chuckled, “Let them talk! I’ll do what I enjoy. They can say whatever they please.”

“You’re bold!” Akai gave him a thumbs-up. “Alright, we’ll go crazy with you this time, but we’re only doing pure accompaniment!”

He’d heard enough criticism lately and wasn’t about to take more risks.

They still needed to survive in the underground scene—following Garen had inadvertently offended many.

So Garen and Zodiac Band focused on the accompaniment, while Chen Yingying quietly practiced the opera lines.

This was different from singing opera on her school’s stage—this was a major music festival. If she messed up, she wouldn’t just embarrass herself, but Garen too.

She was especially diligent.

After an hour, the basic accompaniment was ready. Garen grabbed two microphones, handed one to Chen Yingying, and prepared for their first full run-through.

“One night in Beijing! I left behind so much love, whether you love or not…”

After two lines, Garen gestured to stop, and the band fell silent.

Garen stroked his chin, frowning in thought. Everyone waited quietly until he finally said, “Wouldn’t it be better to add some traditional instrumental elements?”

He’d listened to several versions on his old laptop before coming; all had traditional Chinese instruments.

But he worried there wasn’t enough time, so hadn’t brought it up.

Now, hearing the song as it was, he realized something was missing.

“If you want traditional elements, my synthesizer has some effects, but I can’t program them,” said Ah Hao, the keyboardist.

Garen was at a loss—he had no experience in this area.

“Let me try…” Just as everyone was unsure, Chen Yingying spoke up.

She stepped forward. “I mean, I can make some suggestions, since I study opera.”

Garen had no doubts about her opera skills, but was uncertain about her knowledge of instruments.

He hesitated, but swallowed his “Are you sure?” and said, “Let’s give it a try—just a few touches of traditional music.”

“Alright,” Chen Yingying nodded.

Ah Hao played solo accompaniment while Chen Yingying offered suggestions: this section should use a sheng effect, that one an erhu, and another a moon guitar.

She also proposed adding cymbal, gong, and crash effects to the percussion.

Akai volunteered, “No problem, I’ll handle that part. I don’t have any performing duties anyway.”

“Good, it’s settled!” Garen clapped. “Let’s start again!”

This time the rehearsal went smoothly, but when it was Chen Yingying’s turn to sing, she stopped after just one line.

The rehearsal paused.

“What’s wrong? You sounded great!” Garen thought she was shy, so he encouraged her.

Chen Yingying shook her head. “It’s too noisy. Opera diva solos are never this loud.”

“Uh…” Garen rubbed his nose. “I wanted to create that contrast.”

“I understand,” Chen Yingying said sympathetically. “I’ll try to follow your lead.”