Chapter 114: You Call This A Positive Energy Singer?
“Your recent songs are all so positive energy.”
Ever since Yu Wei went on the program, the songs he released have been more inspirational than the last. “Under the Flying Clouds” was still the gentle confessional type, but by “Invisible Wings” and “Dream Chaser’s Heart,” he stopped performing altogether.
Yu Wei didn’t even have the nerve to say that the yet-to-air fourth episode’s song was also pretty inspirational…
On the phone, Qi Luo An suddenly lowered her voice and said something extremely bold.
“From now on, for every positive energy song you sing, I’ll write a positive mark on you. How about that?”
“What the heck?”
Yu Wei was a bit baffled by the question. Damn, was that a proper positive mark? He’d seen that kind of diagram somewhere before.
Writing a positive mark was a bit too perverted.
Qi Luo An burst out laughing. Teasing him occasionally was quite fun. People shouldn’t lose their personality even when showing affection to others.
Blindly fawning would make one no different from a tool person. A bit of small rebellion now and then—that was her.
Though the topic had veered off, this issue couldn’t be ignored. Yu Wei’s performances on the program had always been too positive energy.
This had pros and cons. The advantage was a strong personal style, quickly establishing the singer’s recognizability and lowering the audience’s cognition cost.
For example, “Prince of Love Songs” or “Iron Lung Queen”—these are symbolic tags that deepen the audience’s impression…
Tags facilitate capital operations, and capital prefers investing in singers with clear styles. A tag like positive energy—not only capital likes it, but the higher-ups do too.
But the drawbacks are obvious: tags narrow creative vision, and audiences gradually develop aesthetic fatigue.
No matter how awesome the singer, singing only one style forever will wear everyone out eventually. Songs always get tiresome after a while.
Tags are both tools and shackles. Other singers can stay in their comfort zone, but Yu Wei has no comfort zone…
He’s not good at anything specifically, but theoretically can sing anything. In this case, there’s no need to tag himself, or everyone will think he’s a positive energy specialist.
Yu Wei was pondering how to break the stereotype when he suddenly received five messages in a row, all from Qi Luo An.
“What are you doing?”
The call was still connected. Whatever it was, why send messages instead of saying it directly? It couldn’t be some embarrassing little secret, could it?
Qi Luo An didn’t explain directly, just kept urging him to look. Yu Wei tapped it open and found five screenshots.
They were all comments and posts praising his new song, very representative ones.
“The cracked voice part was the most shocking for me. It gave me goosebumps. Anyone else like me?”
“So where exactly is the world full of fresh flowers?”
“Dreams don’t glow—what glows is you, the dream chaser.”
“You can’t say this song is super premium, but listening to it pulls you in completely. Yu Wei is still top-notch.”
This page was mostly netizens’ hot discussions, insights and experiences from listening to music. It was clear everyone really liked this song.
Yu Wei wasn’t surprised at all that “Dream Chaser’s Heart” went viral. It had memorable points and could touch people— the kind that’s both critically acclaimed and commercially successful.
Having watched entertainment for so many years, he rarely saw bad reviews in this song’s plot. At worst, “listened to it too much” or “don’t get it.”
Ordinary listeners’ evaluations were superficial, but the analyses from several musician colleagues in between were more profound, including one from Teacher Meng Han.
‘Music Critic Li Wan: “Dream Chaser’s Heart” fills the long-missing hot-blooded core in native rock music. Unlike critical rock, it discards anger and obscurity. Yu Wei, with his roaring expression of “better to burn passionately than linger on,” reconstructs the language of idealism in music.’
‘Producer Zhang Ya Fei: No need for profundity, just sincerity. This “imperfect yet utterly sincere” performance is exactly Yu Wei’s return to the essence of music, replacing technical show off skills with pure vitality.’
‘Meng Han: Awesome!’
As expected of the veteran artist—concise and to the point…
Actually, Yu Wei’s song surprised some in the industry, because in recent years, original singers doing this kind of mainstream rock have been rare.
Many rock musicians just want niche partying in their own circles. Their songs are appreciated by few laymen besides rock music enthusiasts.
Meng Han’s “Hou Yi” is a epitome of self-indulgent rock. Laymen only see “awesome,” but ask where it’s awesome, and few can explain.
This “Dream Chaser’s Heart” is great because it proves music’s most primal strength: technique can yield to sincerity, and a dream chaser’s heart is enough to pierce era barriers.
Musicians and media always exaggerate wording for popularity and gimmicks. People usually say netizens set the rhythm, but these industry insiders set it even harder.
“Youthful passion transcending eras,” or bolder ones directly call it a spiritual totem…
They dare to hype Yu Wei, but he doesn’t dare respond. Yet netizens love it and actively echo in the comment section.
One by one, off to Yu Wei’s praise group!
“Done looking? I have more.”
Qi Luo An really enjoyed seeing these things. Rationally, Yu Wei was indeed awesome, but the hype shouldn’t be blind.
But emotionally, when others praised Yu Wei, Qi Luo An was happy. After all, she was the first one to unearth this treasure…
When others like what you like, that feeling is incredibly pleasurable.
“You go to the group too… oh wait, you’re the group owner.”
Yu Wei thought she was joking, but Qi Luo An really sent over a few more pics. This time the scale was bigger— from CCTV media.
‘In the new era’s hundred flowers garden of arts, “Dream Chaser’s Heart” bursts like thunder at dawn, with scorching melody and fervent belief, singing the era’s powerful anthem for strivers!
Yu Wei uses music as a horn to awaken dormant courage; uses singing as kindling to ignite the light of hope in billions of hearts.
Its artistic creation is always rooted in the people, praising struggle, interpreting the mission of arts workers with the purest positive energy—letting every dream chaser’s heart burn passionately in the era’s journey!’
Now Yu Wei was truly out of moves. Officially endorsed as a positive energy singer, they really wanted him to go further down the inspirational path…
“No, next episode needs something more melancholic.”
Stereotypes are meant to be broken!
Getting official endorsement wasn’t bad. Yu Wei just didn’t want to be tagged. Stereotypes are undesirable; while young, he wanted to broaden his paths.
The next day, “Dream Chaser’s Heart” was completely viral. While Yu Wei brushed his teeth, he scrolled short videos—three or four out of ten were this song, including one cover song.
Searching revealed the song was even used as background music by CCTV News’ account. With official promotion, how could it not go viral?
Aerial shots sweep over the Great Wall’s winding outline, morning light pierces clouds, cutting to highland railway workers inspecting tracks in cold wind, their frostbitten hands contrasting with resolute gazes.
In the lab, young researchers peer into microscopes, solutions glowing faintly in test tubes; a choir of left-behind children sings in a mountain village classroom, camera panning to endless mountains outside the window…
“Dream Chaser’s Heart”‘s singing paired with the scenes gives an indescribable sense of belief. It’s truly unmatched by other BGM.
Yu Wei quietly liked it, his mood complex.
The song’s result was good, but the tag was real too. Everything has pros and cons; removing the tag was urgent.
“Let’s do something abstract first.”
Yu Wei’s new chapter was itching for an update. After Chen Chen’s outstanding performance, a slightly nervous Su Jian took the stage.
Everyone expected noise pollution, but the style shifted—he started weirdly yelling right on stage.
“One giao, I’m inside giao giao.”
Su Jian’s video arrived at noon that day, over thirty minutes long. Of course he couldn’t last three hours—that was too torturous.
“Boss, can this really go viral? I feel so embarrassing…”
“You’re about to flop and you care about that?”
Yu Wei played it. Su Jian’s vivid performance nearly made him laugh himself silly. This weird thing couldn’t be enjoyed by him alone—readers had to experience it too!
He casually copied it to Qi Luo An, and within three seconds got a question mark.
“What did the readers do to offend you?”
“Post it. You always say I make up history; today, some real history.”
Yu Wei, with a bit of schadenfreude, updated the new chapter, then quickly posted the Easter Egg Chapter and sent voting comments.
Su Jian theoretically had no chance of winning. Just wondering if readers would like this abstract stuff. What if…
If anyone was most concerned about Su Jian’s performance right now, it was his opponent Chen Chen. Though the kid’s singing skill was poor, notably, he called Yu Wei “boss.”
This relationship couldn’t be ignored. After all, Yu Wei was the guy who could take a civilian to challenge King of Singers on the program. Who knew if he’d lend a hand.
The moment she saw the new chapter and Easter Egg Chapter, she didn’t even vote for herself first, but opened Su Jian’s performance track “giao.”
The song title made no sense; she had no idea what it was. Chen Chen played the video—no instruments or accompaniment, just a nervous light cough.
This cheaply made? Even if no competition, so many readers to see it—this was too amateur, nowhere near her video.
Feels like a sure win…
As she frowned waiting for the melody, Su Jian seemed to steel himself and suddenly belted “One giao, I’m inside giao giao.”
What was this?
Chen Chen was completely caught off guard. Su Jian continued, lyrics unchanging—just repeating that line.
“One giao, I’m inside giao giao.”
“…”
What the hell was this?
In the video, Su Jian sang it over ten times and finally let loose, each “giao” sharper than the last, gradually enjoying it.
Leaving Chen Chen and the readers who opened it stunned in place.
What kind of strategy was this?
This couldn’t even be called music, though oddly brainwashing. Even after closing the video, the phrase echoed in their ears…
“I’m dying of laughter. He dared enter the competition with this?”
“Don’t Laugh Challenge? I lost.”
“This buddy came to be funny, right? Never saw him this abstract before.”
Because Su Jian entered the novel, idle readers had searched him.
A boy group idol with no highlights except decent looks, no humor cells.
Such a stiff guy doing abstract stuff? Anyone could see it was Yu Wei’s Immortal’s Guidance…
Everyone was shocked that morning by official big shots name-dropping and praising Yu Wei, with CCTV media personally hailing him as a positive energy singer.
But before the video hype faded, Yu Wei started stirring things up again.
You call this a positive energy singer?
Happy Qixi to everyone. Rest tonight, organize the follow-up plot. Fierce updates the next two days into the September challenge.
