Chapter 44: Playing at a Higher Level
The essence of a music festival lies in this kind of atmosphere—regardless of who the singer is or what the lyrics are about, it’s all about releasing one’s pressures amidst the relentless barrage of music.
At a distance, Sparrow Legend stood behind the Rhapsody Stage, waiting to take their turn. Seeing the excitement caused by Garen’s performance, their mood grew even more sour.
“Hmph! What a clown!” Liu Pengfei scoffed.
Yang Dan said nothing; in truth, the music was making her feel restless, too, but Liu Pengfei’s words left her awkward.
Yet as she listened closely to the lyrics, she found them deeply intriguing. Though simple and straightforward, the content easily resonated with people. In such a vast world, everyone is but a small bird—wasn’t the song depicting the lives of ordinary folk? That sense of helplessness, sorrow, timidity, and endurance—could this be Garen’s own confession?
Not only Yang Dan, but Liu Nan and Zhang Weiwei also sensed this. Unlike the frenzied audience, they valued the substance within the music. Clearly, this was a mature work, one worthy of respect from both a commercial and a cultural perspective.
Suddenly, they realized that the young man before them was not merely a singer or a young songwriter as they had assumed. His musical style was ever-changing, each song provoking thought, always at the forefront of the era. Some might find him hard to accept, but to the common people, his songs conveyed a spirit that was easily grasped.
Behind the scenes, the organizers of the Ideal Music Festival were delighted. The inspirational tone of Garen’s song was precisely the theme they wanted for the event.
Especially the line, “When you decide to burn for your dreams, which matters more—life’s pressures or the dignity of existence?” It was a piercing question straight to the heart.
“Who is this singer?”
Xie Wendong, founder of Ideal City Cultural Group—the festival’s organizer—excitedly slapped the armrest of his sofa, pointing at the big screen and asking his secretary.
Smiling, the secretary replied, “President Xie, this singer is named Garen.”
“Garen?” Xie Wendong himself had a background as a singer and knew all the famous artists in the industry, most of whom he had invited as guests this time. Yet he couldn’t recall who Garen was.
The secretary reminded him, “He’s the singer recommended by Director Liu of Yida.”
“Recommended by Liu Xiahui?” Xie Wendong suddenly understood and turned to the man beside him. “President Xiao, are you interested in inviting him to your program?”
“Heh!” President Xiao chuckled, “Of course I am. But what’s his relationship with Liu Xiahui?”
Xiao Weiyang was the Vice President of Dream Star Entertainment Group, Ayia’s direct superior. Thanks to their cooperation with CCTV’s Channel Two on ‘Dream Star Show,’ Dream Star had risen from obscurity to become one of the entertainment giants.
In this era, creativity is paramount. Dream Star’s success stemmed from their original concept for ‘Dream Star Show,’ keeping the rights firmly in their own hands, allowing them to make a dramatic turnaround.
Upon hearing this, Xie Wendong laughed, “He’s a newly signed artist with Yida. Looks like they’re planning to break into the music industry. We’ve got ourselves another competitor!”
“He could also be a partner,” Xiao Weiyang replied, having already recognized Garen’s value. Though it was a shame he couldn’t sign him under Dream Star, Garen’s brilliance could be leveraged to boost their show.
He immediately said, “President Xie, if your company can recommend him, and of course if you can settle things with Yida, not only can he appear on Dream Star Show, but with his talent, he can go straight to the challenger’s spot!”
“No problem!” Xie Wendong laughed, “Liu Xiahui recommended him, so he owes me a favor. By putting his artist on the show and raising their popularity, he should be more than happy!”
“Heh! That’s settled then!” Xiao Weiyang chuckled slyly, his eyes gleaming as he plotted something new.
On stage, after finishing ‘Little Bird,’ Garen sat cross-legged atop the pickup truck, exhausted, and asked the nearby staff, “Hey, could you get me a bottle of water? Thanks!”
“Oh, sure!” The staff nodded.
But before he could go look, audience members suddenly produced all sorts of drinks and began tossing them toward Garen.
“Garen! Drink mine!”
“Here’s water! Don’t drink soda!”
“I’ve got a can of beer! Catch—!”
The security guards were alarmed and immediately tried to stop the crowd, “No throwing, no throwing! Be careful, safety first!”
But their warnings were useless; the crowd’s enthusiasm was unstoppable.
Garen only then realized that when he’d asked the staff for water, he hadn’t noticed his mic was on, and the entire audience had heard him.
With no choice, he grabbed a bottle of mineral water, twisted it open, and took a hearty gulp. Then he said, “Thank you all, thank you! Please, don’t throw any more! Otherwise, I’ll never finish all the drinks even after three days of the festival!”
His words sparked laughter. Someone teased, “Hey, you said you’re not good at talking, but you sure sound smooth now!”
Garen waved his hand, “No more jokes! Let’s keep singing! What do you want to hear?”
“Rock!” came the unified shout.
Garen stood up immediately. “Alright! Let’s keep the party going!”
No sooner had he spoken than the dense beat of drums kicked in, the guitar strummed the intro, and even the clang of traditional Chinese percussion joined in. Everyone paused, surprised—what style was this?
“This song is dedicated to the coming night—one night in Beijing!” Garen roared, and the music featured the striking sound of a yangqin, synthesized but still stunning to the audience.
“One night in Beijing? An English song? Why is there traditional music?”
“Is it ‘A Night in the Capital’? Or ‘A Night of… Passion’?”
“So bold—mixing frank lyrics with traditional music, what’s he up to?”
“Doesn’t matter, as long as it’s rock! Let’s pogo!”
“…”
Liu Nan and Zhang Weiwei were stunned, “What’s he doing?”
They asked in unison, then couldn’t help but smile, gradually realizing that Garen was utterly uninhibited. Whether it was chaos or innovation, he was simply different.
Sparrow Legend listened as well. Liu Pengfei sneered, “Trying to imitate us? Singing folk with rock in a pop style? Too bad he doesn’t have a DJ—pure rock won’t cut it!”
“Don’t judge yet!” Yang Dan finally retorted. “Let’s listen first!”
“Why are you siding with him?” Liu Pengfei complained.
“Can’t you be quiet?” Yang Dan replied.
“Hmph! Once he’s done, it’s our turn. Don’t throw a tantrum now!”
Yang Dan ignored him, focusing on Garen’s singing.
Behind the scenes,
Xie Wendong sighed, “Ah! Should’ve scheduled him for the evening slot. So many audience members aren’t here yet—what a pity!”
“I’d wager that after this performance, he’ll be promoted to the Rhapsody Stage next time!” Xiao Weiyang laughed.
The Rhapsody Stage differed from the Ideal Stage in that, while the Ideal Stage was the main platform for invited guests like Liu Nan and Garen, the Rhapsody Stage featured the most popular bands, singers, and groups, chosen by online voters and major university alliances in the capital.
Zhang Weiwei and Sparrow Legend were both vote winners, especially Sparrow Legend, whose songs were used as ringtones by telecom operators, giving them immense popularity and the top spot in the online poll.
As the intro ended and the gong sounded, Garen sang:
“One night in Beijing! I leave behind much emotion!”
“Whether you love or not, it’s all dust in history!”
“One night in Beijing! I leave behind much emotion!”
“I dare not ask for directions at midnight, afraid to wander into the depth of the Hundred Flowers!”
Suddenly, a magnificent female voice in Peking Opera style soared, ethereal as a celestial song.
“People say, deep within the Hundred Flowers, resides an old lover, stitching embroidered shoes.”
“A serene-faced old woman still waits for the returning soldier.”
The audience, startled, turned to Garen, only to see him leap from the truck and race toward the stage. This voice wasn’t his!
Who was singing?
On stage, they saw a young woman in opera costume and painted as a huadan, standing at the center, reaching out to Garen as if calling for the returning warrior.
With Da Mao’s helping hand, Garen vaulted onto the stage, walking toward Chen Yingying while singing:
“One night in Beijing! Don’t drink too much wine!”
“Whether you love or not, it’s all dust in history!”
“One night in Beijing! I leave behind much emotion!”
“The men singing high with wine are the wolves of the North!”
Then Chen Yingying’s Peking Opera voice rang out:
“People say, the wolves of the North will stand outside the city gates as the cold wind rises!”
“Wearing rusted iron armor, calling for the gates to open, tears in their eyes!”
The band’s accompaniment maintained a pure rock style—guitar, bass, drums never stopping, with traditional instruments interspersed seamlessly. Most remarkable was Chen Yingying’s opera vocals, perfectly fused with the rock, without a trace of chaos.
Everyone was speechless. The audience stared, dumbfounded, at the two on stage, as if caught in a temporal distortion.
Was this a music festival—
Or a theater?
Liu Nan and Zhang Weiwei were stunned, unable to comment on Garen anymore; calling him a genius seemed insufficient, for this song was revolutionary!
To think of merging national opera essence with rock music!
Liu Pengfei was furious, almost spitting blood. He’d thought Garen was trying to imitate Sparrow Legend, but Garen was playing on a whole different level.
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