Chapter 64: Condemnation in Song!

In the broadcast hall, lights of every color danced freely, and amid the cheap sound effects, host Sister Plum walked onto the stage, spreading her arms as if to embrace the audience.

"Hello, everyone! I'm your host, Plum!"

Applause thundered through the crowd, and when she was steady, she continued, "Welcome to the electrifying live showdown of the ‘Dream Starlight Show’, a grand singing competition series on CCTV Channel Two, sponsored by Pioneer Litmon Juice and Haslow Watches, produced by the nation’s most professional team and broadcast on the top platform! We're thrilled to have you here!"

As Sister Plum finished in one breath, applause once again swept the studio.

The director switched the camera to the audience, who responded with lively expressions and animated emotions.

The camera returned, the sound effects faded, and Sister Plum announced, "After several fierce rounds, we've finally determined this week's champion. Let's congratulate Sun Youjia!"

With that, Sun Youjia, this week's champion, walked out from the right side of the stage, waving to the audience as he approached Sister Plum. "Hello, everyone! Hello, Sister Plum!"

"Hello!" Sister Plum smiled. "You've performed brilliantly this week. Receiving unanimous praise from the judges proves your true talent. But facing this showdown, are you confident?"

"I am!" Sun Youjia replied.

Sister Plum pretended not to hear, "What? Louder!"

"I am!" Sun Youjia shouted, and the audience erupted again in cheers and applause.

"Now that's the spirit of a true man!" Sister Plum said. "Please ascend to the champion's throne!"

Another round of sound effects accompanied Sun Youjia as he smiled confidently and took his seat on the champion's throne at the right of the stage.

"Next, let's introduce our three judges for tonight's showdown!"

She continued, "First, we have Mr. Dai Chunyang, board member of the National Music Copyright Association and renowned lyricist!"

"Second, Professor Liu Xiufang from the Composition Department of West China Conservatory of Music!"

"Third, our country's famous vocalist, Mr. Cai Qingguo!"

The three judges for the showdown changed every week, but were always professionals—professors, experts, or celebrated figures.

"This time, our challenger is a singer who's been trending online recently, but he isn't just an internet star! On the contrary, from the moment he debuted, he was hailed as a ‘folk-poet’ and a ‘rock newcomer’..."

Sister Plum paused, casting a mysterious glance at the audience.

The crowd immediately whispered and guessed among themselves. Many people had those titles, but with the hint "recently trending," everyone thought of the same person.

Yet no one dared be certain. Was it really him?

Wasn't he the one who criticized professors, scolded senior entertainers, and was banned?

Could he really appear on TV?

The three judges exchanged glances and shook their heads, indicating they didn't know who it was.

Sun Youjia, seated on the champion's throne, was also astonished, mouth slightly open. He thought of one person—could it really be him? If he sang covers, it was fine, but if he performed his own originals, how could anyone compete?

Seeing the tension rise, Sister Plum continued, "That's right, those who know him probably already guessed. Honestly, I only learned he'd be tonight's challenger this afternoon and had to look up his information online. He's truly talented, pioneering two genres: ‘pop rap’ and ‘Peking opera rock’. I wonder if we'll hear these styles tonight!"

Though the words seemed long, she spoke them briskly, and as she did, the big screen played a video clip of Galen emerging from the lounge.

The video was deliberately dark, obscuring his true appearance; even at the entrance, only his back was shown—never his face.

Sister Plum kept everyone in suspense before finally declaring, "Let's welcome—Galen!"

In an instant, the audience erupted. Many young people stood up, cheering.

"Wow! It's really him?"
"Ah! Galen! Oh my god!"
"Finally, seeing him in person!"
"Is this his TV debut?"
"Galen's here to challenge? Has he officially debuted?"
"Debuted or not, with his talent, he's qualified to be here!"
"I wonder how he sounds live..."

The young audience buzzed, and some of the middle-aged and older viewers joined in.

"Who is this young man? So many people cheering for him!"
"Must be some rising star!"
"He's got style, looks pretty good..."

Whether that was praise or criticism was unclear.

Galen walked to the center of the stage and greeted the host, "Hello, Sister Plum!"

He then bowed slightly to the judges and audience, "Hello, judges! Hello, friends!"

The judges and audience responded with warm applause.

Sister Plum asked with a smile, "Galen, do you have any wishes coming to the Dream Show?"

"My wish is for more people to know me and my music. This is an opportunity; no matter the outcome, it will be a valuable experience in my life!"

Though Galen spoke sincerely, these words were scripted.

Sister Plum immediately replied, "In that case, bring your music and challenge us! The stage is yours! The showdown begins!"

The stage was left to Galen alone, the lights dimmed, leaving only a single white beam shining down on him.

"Chirp, chirp..." came the sound of birds from the speakers, as lines appeared on the black screen:

"I am a happy little bird!"
"Living carefree in the great forest!"
"One day, suddenly!"
"Humans entered this forest!"
"From then on, my life changed..."

With the gentle piano as backdrop, an image unfolded: blue sky, white clouds, and a tall tree where birds perched and sang happily.

A chick, much smaller than its peers, broke free from its shell in the nest. The camera zoomed in; the little bird opened its eyes, the sunlight a bit dazzling, but it still struggled to leave the nest and fly into the sky.

At this moment, Galen's delicate, subtle voice emerged: "Sometimes I feel like a little bird, wanting to fly, but no matter how hard I try, I can't soar high..."

His voice was light and gentle, as if narrating a story, yet carried a touch of melancholy.

The big screen shifted as the little bird's feathers grew fuller, allowing it to leave the nest, catch insects on its own, and reach the sky, though it still needed a tree to rest after some time.

At last, it spread its wings among blue sky and clouds, gazing down at the green shade and flowing rivers below.

The bird's expression became freer, more joyful.

But suddenly, the scene changed. The little bird, perched on the tree and preening its feathers, was startled as a hunter raised his rifle, the dark barrel aimed at the bird.

"Bang!"

A shot rang out; the bird wasn't hit, but the sudden gunfire frightened it, causing it to fall from the branch.

The hunter approached, gun in hand, found the bird under the tree, still alive, and once again aimed the barrel at it, wearing a menacing grin.

The bird trembled, pitifully shedding tears of pleading.

Accompanied by music, as the audience watched, their eyes grew wet with tears.

The three judges felt the same, moved as one with the crowd.

Liu Xiufang took off her glasses, repeatedly dabbing her eyes with tissues.

Dai Chunyang pursed his lips solemnly, his eyes red.

Cai Qingguo was the most emotional, clutching a handkerchief, sobbing like a wronged bride.

The video changed again; a child suddenly appeared before the hunter, blocking the gun.

The hunter frowned, reaching for the child, and in that moment the little bird struggled and flew skyward. Thunder rumbled across the night, the bird fearful but forced to beat its wings harder.

At that moment, Galen sang out the soaring passage: "I am just a little, little bird! I want to fly, but I can't fly high!"

The bird landed on a branch, looked down, and saw loggers chopping trees. It hurriedly gathered its eggs from the nest and fled to another tree.

But soon, loggers began cutting other trees as well. Watching one after another fall, trucks hauling away the timber, the little bird found no branches left to rest on, and sat crying atop a stump.

The music echoed: "I search and search, search and search, for a warm embrace—can that really be too much to ask?"

This repeated passage deepened the impression on all spectators and judges.

In the audience, a father and son sat together. The father sighed, "When I was a kid, our neighborhood was full of trees. Now they're all cut down to build apartments—not even a bird left!"

"But aren't there lots of trees in our complex? Birds too, plenty of sparrows!" the son, moved by the song and video, still found his father's lament exaggerated.

The middle-aged man chuckled, "Sparrows? Back then, we used to see partridges, cuckoos, thrushes, doves, larks, lovebirds... Now? You have to go to the zoo to see any of those!"

The son barely recognized most of those names, nodding in vague understanding.

On the screen, the green vanished, the birds disappeared, replaced by a desert.

The style shifted again—no more blue sky and clouds, but real footage of smoggy days and sources of pollution, like factory chimneys spewing exhaust.

The music changed accordingly, transforming into a rock style; the electric guitar roared and howled, matching the images, the music sounding like a condemnation.

Under the camera, people wrapped tightly passed through the haze; children cried at crossroads where the direction was unclear.

On the overpass, once bustling roads were now invisible in the fog.

With these images and music blended, Galen's voice emerged, tinged with anger.