Chapter 209: Gotta Steer Clear Of That Edge
Qi Luo An withdrew it very quickly, but Yu Wei still saw it.
Isn’t this too depressing, sis?
“What do you mean?”
Don’t tell him he typed wrong again. Anyway, this time Yu Wei didn’t believe it. How could there be so many typos?
“I just wanted to ask when our competition is scheduled, so I asked ‘what about me then?’ but felt it was ambiguous in context, so I withdrew it.”
What a huge injustice. No matter what, Qi Luo An wouldn’t be so unrestrained. She hadn’t even thought in that direction, and even if she did, she wouldn’t dare to send it…
Isn’t shortening “what about our competition” to “what about me” very normal?
Yu Wei believed her. Her reason was reasonable and well-founded. Qi Luo An was actually quite reserved. Otherwise, holding a blank bet, she wouldn’t be so conservative.
That’s good. It actually aligned with him. Yu Wei preferred a slow pace. If even this had to be rushed, life would be too boring.
“Shen Yutong probably won’t have time to practice singing with you recently.”
Shen Yutong also had to sing a new song at the concert, but her song was highly polished, and the arrangement was complete, so she didn’t sing at the rehearsal site in the afternoon.
At least during these two days of concert rehearsals, she probably wouldn’t have time to practice “Rain Butterfly,” let alone shoot a video to enter the competition.
“Then wait until the concert is over.”
Qi Luo An calculated the time. The concert was the evening after tomorrow. Starting to practice the day after that would be about right. At this point, the song shouldn’t be snatched by someone else.
Perfectly, Yu Wei was coming to their house as a guest that very evening.
“By the way, that Cantonese song you sang today was really good. Your pronunciation was very standard too.”
The singing video was almost polished from being watched so much by Qi Luo An. The first time hearing Yu Wei sing a Cantonese song felt very novel; she couldn’t get enough of it no matter how many times she listened.
Of course, this wasn’t good news, because it meant she would lose the freshness of first hearing it when watching the gala later.
She wanted a brain that hadn’t heard this song before…
“You understand this too?”
Wasn’t she a proper Beijinger? She even knew Cantonese pronunciation?
“I don’t. A roommate talks about it every day. I only know ‘Happy New Year’ and ‘damn your lungs.'”
“‘And black pineapple, good night.'”
Qi Luo An sent it and ran off in a flash. This time, she did it intentionally.
……
Early the next morning, Yu Wei arrived at the concert hall on time for rehearsal.
Jiang Si Heng’s vote rate had already exceeded double digits. The AI had never faced such a tough game. Being stronger than it was one thing, but knowing military strategy too—Lu Ren Jia’s loss was not unjust.
Yesterday, they had completed the preliminary rehearsal of lights and position walkthroughs. Today was the full-elements rehearsal, meaning full-process integration from band, performance, lights, sound to special effects.
“We’ll go to the makeup room first. The vocal teacher is already waiting for you.” Liu Ning handed him a cup of warm honey water. “The first item is band rehearsal. Your in-ear monitors have been readjusted.”
Yu Wei thought they would continue discussing the arrangement, but unexpectedly, the band had produced an initial version last night with high completion.
It had to be said, worthy of the national team. Efficiency and professionalism were unmatched. When Yu Wei recorded Music Blind Box, just the accompaniment took one or two days of tinkering.
After discussing arrangement revisions with the keyboardist, Yu Wei began simple vocal warm-up exercises.
He had perfectly mastered the song, but he wasn’t Golden Throat; he still needed to use his voice properly every time.
“In the chorus yesterday, there were a few notes you could relax more on,” the music supervisor said, playing a melody on the piano. “Especially in the C major part, breath control could be even more delicate.”
Yu Wei nodded in recognition. He occasionally made small mistakes too. He hadn’t expected them to be so meticulous.
Actually, the music supervisor was more shocked. Yesterday, Yu Wei had sung it a cappella on-site, and after checking, it was just a minor breath issue. This standard was exaggerated.
They had worked with many famous singers. These musicians had high ceilings and were top-notch in good form, but rehearsals were usually mediocre.
Someone like Yu Wei who maxed out even in practice was truly rare…
What shocked them even more came later. During today’s rehearsal, Yu Wei accurately pointed out the tiniest incoherence in the performance and suggested revisions.
His control over the song was astonishing, down to adjusting the duration and intensity of every note.
The music supervisor and band members felt like they were being carried. They were the national team, after all—first time encountering this in years.
If all other concert guests were at his level, rehearsals would be so easy, and the audience would be satisfied in one go. Unfortunately, there was only one Yu Wei.
Singers were okay, but those from acting backgrounds had worse basics one after another. Without some tech and ruthless moves, they couldn’t get on stage.
“Teacher Yu, please do the same as last time later—write in the audience area to give them some pressure.”
There was such a good thing?
Honestly, Yu Wei felt writing while watching the show was quite efficient, but he worried about bothering the staff. He had considered that when thanking them before leaving yesterday, but they wanted him to continue?
This gave Yu Wei a VIP writing spot. That was great.
His full-process rehearsal didn’t take long. When it was the next person’s turn, Yu Wei, per the organizer’s wish, started writing nearby, presiding from the center.
Today’s other artists weren’t as panicked as yesterday, because they saw Yu Wei was seriously writing his book. Yesterday’s new chapter was normal too—no recording material.
They weren’t afraid anymore, but reading Yu Wei’s new chapter still left a sour taste.
A discarded draft going viral was one thing, but Jiang Si Heng, a long-retired entertainment industry figure with no trace, riding the wave to fame—they were so envious.
Was it possible that being written into Yu Wei’s book was the right thing?
Compared to going viral, being teased wasn’t unacceptable.
“The program list is out.”
While Yu Wei was writing, Liu Ning brought him the fresh program list. It would sync to the official account soon, also serving promotion and traffic—fans would come for their idols.
The program flow was divided into four units: “Reminisce,” “Dream,” “Country,” “Home”—actually the previous nostalgia, inspirational, main melody, and reunion styles.
Yu Wei’s “Red Sun” was the finale of the second unit, clearly given high hopes by the organizer.
Shen Yutong’s new song was also listed. Strictly speaking, none of the four categories fit her “Willow Catkins,” but the other three partitions fit even less.
The song’s core was self-reflection, which could barely be squeezed into inspirational.
Her song choice was pure personal preference, with no intent to cater to the organizer, so naturally hard to get official perks.
But with Shen Yutong’s personality, she clearly didn’t care. Being so anxious over one song showed her pure pursuit of music.
Meng Han’s was called classic reconstruction. Yu Wei hadn’t expected him to sing “The Moon Represents My Heart.” Hard to imagine what it would be like…
“Wasn’t reunion the insider info? Where’s the insider?”
Yu Wei checked the program list. The fourth unit had the most songs, with Xu Xinian and Gu Ningyue both there—songs very targeted, clearly premeditated.
As for Song Shu, she was in the second unit inspirational song section. So she had clashed with him— no wonder she ran so fast yesterday.
“Anyone who can come here has some insider info, right?”
Liu Ning teased. These days, insider info was the cheapest. With so many organizer staff, it easily leaked, even spreading secondarily.
“True.”
Those invited were no pushovers; knowing song preferences wasn’t rare.
“Good thing I didn’t pick reunion, or a bunch would clash.”
“They should be glad you didn’t pick it.” Liu Ning glanced at the guests rehearsing on stage. “If you did, they’d probably come for nothing.”
Clashing wasn’t scary—who sucked would be embarrassed. If he picked it, he could take out a bunch.
While they chatted, the program list was posted online. Yu Wei clicked the comment section to see netizens’ thoughts.
“Opening thunderstrike, Teacher Meng’s ‘The Moon Represents My Heart’—sure it’s not the moon eliminating you?”
“Yu Wei was indeed invited. ‘Red Sun’ is the one from the book the day before yesterday, right?”
“Holy sun and moon shining together, blind box team gets big points, expectations maxed.”
“‘Youth’ in the country partition? Wrong placement? Isn’t it an inspirational song?”
Thinking of sun and moon shining together was genius. He even messed up sun and moon…
The audience clearly didn’t know this “Youth” was an adapted version. Such things wouldn’t be wrong. Honestly, the organizer was shocked seeing the new lyrics.
Personifying the country as “the youth from before” in the song elevated the pattern instantly.
But hearing Yu Wei revised the lyrics, they instantly relaxed. Only he had so many tricks.
He could revise his songs however he wanted. The organizer was very satisfied with this version; incorporating the song later was inevitable.
“Brother Yu, let me take a look too.”
Meng Han, just finishing stage setup debugging, sat next to Yu Wei. He just wanted a casual glance, but spotted something.
“Hey, this old guy, how’d he switch to the fourth part?”
Meng Han clearly remembered Lin Puyan in the second part. He’d teased him about not withstanding Yu Wei’s momentum, but now he directly ran.
So afraid of flipping?
Ask and it’s Lin Puyan scared of being dog-beaten after Chen Ping’s four captures—he still held a grudge. This time, he couldn’t be captured by Yu Wei. Couldn’t provoke, so hide!
“Disgracing us old musicians.”
Meng Han was half-laughing mad. Old Lin’s strength was no less than his; victory uncertain in a fight, but not even trying was unexpected.
He knew to avoid the sharp edge.
“How’d he do that?”
Wasn’t it grouped by musical style? Could switch partitions like that? If possible, he’d switch too—fourth group had more people, lively.
“His inspirational song is about a wanderer chasing dreams, but reunites with family at the end. Probably switched by clinging to the reunion element.”
No way around it. His song had reunion elements; normal songs couldn’t switch.
As long as it fit, old musicians had that right to speak.
Actually, after Yu Wei sang “Red Sun” yesterday, Song Shu left in a hurry to switch partitions, hoping to take off on this chance—truly avoiding the sharp edge.
Unfortunately, her song style was too singular to switch; had to hard counter.
Meng Han sighed. He’d wanted to see that old guy impacted by Yu Wei, but it was set—the program list was out, order fixed, no chance now.
Seen cowardly, but never this cowardly…
Lin Puyan: Hehe, I must survive.
Yu Wei wasn’t that combative. Couldn’t force it—go with the flow. Maybe opportunities later.
