On the final night of the closed-door training camp, an eerie atmosphere of exhaustion, tension, and a final sprint permeated the air. Scattered singing and the beat of dance music echoed through the corridors, like the relentless drumbeat of war. Lin Chen closed the door to his room, trying to block out the outside world, but as his fingertips brushed against the guitar strings, a subtle lag lingered.
Tomorrow would be the first recording session for the camp's elimination rounds, the contestants' first time facing a live audience and the scrutiny of a more rigorous panel of judges. Their performance would determine their fate.
He tried to recapture the feeling of singing by the mountain stream, closing his eyes and imagining the steam on his face and the rustle of the wind. But all that came to mind were the vocal instructor's emphasis on "precise resonance points," the dance instructor's demanding "movement frameworks," and even the stylist's slightly critical gaze as she manipulated his clothes.
"Your original song, 'Mountain Questions,' has good emotion, but the explosive breath drive in the chorus could be more stable, and the ending should be less wild. A little more restrained, more refined." The vocal instructor's words were still fresh in his mind.
Refined? Wild?
Lin Chen was confused. His understanding of singing was the outpouring of emotion, the unleashing of vitality. When did mountain people ever emphasize restraint in their singing?
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. It was Ajie, hugging a pillow, squeezing in with a frustrated look on his face. "It's over, Brother Chen, I'm definitely going to quit tomorrow." Ajie slumped in his chair. "The order we drew was terrible. I'm late in the second half, and the judges are tired of it. The song we chose is fast, and I haven't mastered the dance moves yet..."
Lin Chen poured him a glass of water. "Don't overthink it. Just perform at your practice level."
"Practice?" Ajie smiled bitterly. "What's the point of practice? Look at that Li Haoran, sent by Xingyao. He sings just as well as me, and his dancing is clumsy. But look at how the instructors treat him? Soft words, mostly encouragement! And he gets a ton of screen time! I heard... his family has strong connections, and he was already selected for the next round."
Another selection. Lin Chen polished the strings in silence. He'd heard too many similar rumors this week at training camp. The allocation of resources, the amount of screen time, the intensity of the instructors' comments, even the subtle attitudes between the contestants, all subtly drew an invisible line: those with companies and those without; those with backgrounds and those who were completely uninitiated.
"Sometimes it's so boring," Ajie sighed. "We work so hard, but maybe it's not worth a word from someone else."
Lin Chen looked up at the distant city lights outside the window, like a falling starry sky. He remembered Chen Kai's words, the brief reminder from the female choreographer.
"Even if there's a pre-selection, even if it's unfair," he whispered, as if speaking to Ajie, but also to himself, "the moment we stand on the stage, the lights come down, the music starts, being able to seize those few minutes and sing the song we want to sing for the audience...isn't that the whole purpose of being here?"
Ajie was stunned for a moment, then scratched his head. "...You're right. Damn it, who cares! Let's sing and we'll talk!"
After seeing Ajie off, Lin Chen's heart calmed down. He picked up his guitar again, this time without dwelling on technique or worrying about judgment. He simply thought of the forests that had nurtured him, the furrowed brow of his mother as she drank medicine, the hope behind his father's silent back, and the almost instinctive yearning and reliance on music he had felt for nineteen years.
The strings vibrated, and the song flowed naturally from his chest. It was no longer the voice constantly "corrected" during training camp, but Lin Chen, raw and sincere, with the scent of mountain breeze and the texture of a stream.
**The next day, recording session.**
The studio was packed, the audience's whispers merging into a vast cacophony. The stage lights were blazing, almost blinding. Backstage, the atmosphere was so tense it could wring water out of them. The contestants either closed their eyes to rest, practiced their moves, or nervously watched the performance of the contestants before them on the monitor screen.
Lin Chen's draw was in the middle of the group. He watched the first few contestants take the stage, some performing steadily, others stumbling due to nervousness. The judges' comments were sharp and direct, sometimes with a touch of venom, drawing gasps from the audience. Li Haoran, the man Ajie had mentioned, did indeed appear. His singing was mediocre, and his dancing even missed the beat, but the judges' comments were much milder, even encouraging him to "find the bright spots."
Lin Chen watched silently, his inner forest becoming increasingly clear.