The wait was long and grueling. Under the scorching sun, sweat soaked through his back. He overheard a few girls ahead excitedly discussing insider recommendation slots from a well-known talent agency, heard someone complaining about how many auditions they'd already been to, and heard others sneering dismissively about "bumpkins" hoping for overnight fame. Every word felt like a tiny needle pricking his sensitive nerves.
He pulled out his phone, seeking some comfort and strength from the "Echo" platform. "Music Old-Timer" had left him another message yesterday—a note with practical tips for stage presence at auditions, ending with: "Let go of distractions. Remember, you are a storyteller through music. Your story is unique."
These words, like a beam of light, dispelled some of the gloom in his heart. He took a deep breath and began silently singing "The Mountain's Query" in his mind again.
After nearly four hours in line, it was finally his turn to enter the preliminary screening area. It was a small, temporarily partitioned room containing an expressionless staff member and a photographer with a camera.
"Name, age, song." The staff member spoke rapidly without looking up.
"Lin Chen. Nineteen. The song is 'The Mountain's Query,' I wrote it myself," Lin Chen replied, somewhat nervously.
The staff member finally glanced up at him, his gaze lingering for a moment on Lin Chen's simple clothes and old guitar before looking down again. "A cappella. Chorus segment. Thirty seconds."
No accompaniment, no stage, just an indifferent listener and a cold camera lens. Lin Chen clenched his fist, telling himself to calm down. He closed his eyes and imagined himself back by the waterfall, the mist on his face, the wind in his ears.
He opened his mouth and sang the most powerful part of the chorus from "The Mountain's Query."
His clear, soaring voice, carrying the breath of the wild mountains, instantly filled the small room. The staff member's fingers, which had been tapping on the keyboard, paused. The photographer instinctively zoomed the lens in, focusing on Lin Chen's face, which glowed with intensity as he lost himself in the song.
The thirty seconds passed quickly.
The indifference on the staff member's face lessened slightly. He handed Lin Chen a green pass. "Go on in. Wait in Zone B. Not bad, kid."
"Thank you!" Lin Chen took the card, his heart pounding with excitement. He had done it! He had passed the first hurdle!
Zone B was another, larger waiting area where those who had passed the initial screening waited to enter the formal recording studio. The atmosphere was slightly more relaxed than outside, but the sense of competition was stronger. Lin Chen found a corner to sit in and carefully wiped the strings of his guitar.
"Hey, man, was that an original you sang earlier?" a fashionably dressed guy with chestnut-dyed hair came over and asked curiously.
Lin Chen nodded. "Yes."
"Impressive!" The guy gave a thumbs-up. "I'm A-Jie, I play rock. You've got a natural voice for this. But..." he lowered his voice, leaning closer, "Just singing well isn't enough. You gotta have some 'preparations'."
"Preparations?" Lin Chen was puzzled.
A-Jie smiled mysteriously, subtly gesturing with his eyes towards a few contestants not far away who were receiving extra attention from staff, even having water and towels brought to them. "See them? They're either signed to companies, or... well, you know, they've 'greased the wheels'. The judges know the score. There are only so many slots. Why would they give one to someone with no connections?"
Lin Chen's heart sank a little. He vaguely understood what A-Jie meant, but it went against his understanding of a "fair competition."
"Really?... Isn't it about talent?"
"Talent?" A-Jie scoffed. "Talent is the baseline. But later on, it's about connections, exchanging favors. You think those big companies spend money to send people here for nothing? You think they're charities promoting new talent?" He patted Lin Chen on the shoulder. "Bro, you seem genuine, so I'm telling you, don't get your hopes up too high. Just treat it as seeing the world."
A-Jie's words were like a stone thrown into the pond of Lin Chen's heart, which had just begun to ripple with hope, stirring up waves of unease. He forced himself not to dwell on it and focused on the upcoming performance.
After waiting another two hours, his number was finally called. He followed a staff member into the dazzlingly lit recording studio he had only seen on TV. The stage was large. The audience seats below were a sea of dark, indistinct figures. Directly in front sat the three judges—two men and a woman, all familiar faces from entertainment news.
In the middle was the well-known music producer Zhang Zhe. To his left was the popular female singer Li Wei. To his right was the idol-turned-actor-singer Zhou Mufan.
"Hello, judges. My name is Lin Chen. I'm from the Qinling Mountains." He walked to the center of the stage and introduced himself into the microphone, his voice slightly dry with tension.
"Oh? The Qinling Mountains? Beautiful area," Zhang Zhe said, adjusting his glasses, his tone neutral. "What are you performing for us?"
"I'll be performing an original song of mine, 'The Mountain's Query'."
"Original?" Zhou Mufan raised an eyebrow, seeming mildly interested. "Admirable courage. You may begin."