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Technical stages don't forgive mistakes.
They don't care about atmosphere.They don't care about emotion.
They only care about control.
The acoustic session took place in a small rehearsal hall.
No decorations.No stage lights.No background music.
Just a wooden floor, chairs arranged in a half circle, and a single microphone.
Or rather—
No microphone.
That detail mattered.
"They're serious," Yueyin whispered as we walked in.
"Yes," I replied. "That's why we're here."
Around us were other singers.
Not famous.Not flashy.
But confident.
People who warmed up silently.People who checked posture instead of mirrors.
Yueyin noticed it too.
Her usual playful energy dimmed.
Good.
The organizer explained the rules.
One song.No amplification.No backing track.No second chances.
"Let the room hear your voice as it is," he said.
I translated that internally:
Let's see what you're really worth.
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Yueyin went third.
I watched her hands.
Steady.
Not relaxed.
But ready.
She stepped forward.
The room quieted.
Not expectant.
Evaluative.
She took a breath—
Too shallow.
I caught it immediately.
She started singing.
The first line was fine.
The second—
Her voice wavered.
Just a little.
But in a room like this?
It echoed.
Not in volume.
In exposure.
Someone frowned.
Another tilted their head.
Yueyin adjusted mid-phrase.
Slower tempo.More air.
Good recovery.
But the damage was done.
When she finished, there was no applause.
Not rude.
Just… neutral.
The organizer nodded. "Thank you."
That was it.
She walked back to me.
"…I messed up," she whispered.
"Yes," I replied.
She flinched.
"But," I continued, "you didn't collapse."
She exhaled slowly.
"That room would've eaten you a month ago."
She smiled weakly. "So I survived?"
"You survived," I confirmed. "Next time, you dominate."
The feedback session was worse.
And better.
A woman spoke first.
"Your tone is pleasant," she said. "But you lean on it."
A man added, "You avoid risk subconsciously."
Another said, "You listen too much to yourself and not enough to the room."
Yueyin nodded.
Didn't argue.
Didn't defend.
She wrote everything down.
That impressed them.
Afterward, someone approached me.
Not Yueyin.
Me.
"You're managing her exposure carefully," he said. "Most people throw singers into the deep end."
"I prefer controlled drowning," I replied.
He laughed.
"That mindset will get you noticed," he said. "And hated."
"I can live with that."
He gave me a card.
Just a name.
No title.
That meant influence.
Xiaoyu waited outside.
She didn't ask how it went.
She looked at Yueyin's face.
"…It was hard," she said.
Yueyin nodded. "Really hard."
"And?"
"And I know what I need to fix now."
Xiaoyu smiled.
Proud.
That night, Yueyin practiced breathing exercises until midnight.
No singing.
Just control.
I didn't stop her.
This wasn't obsession.
This was adjustment.
The system flickered quietly.
[Technical Pathway Unlocked:]Skill-based events increasing.
I ignored it.
I'd already felt it in that room.
From now on—
Talent wouldn't save her.
Looks wouldn't save her.
Even I couldn't shield her completely.
But that was fine.
Because this was the stage that separated singers from artists.
And managers from babysitters.
As I turned off the light, one thought stayed with me.
We had stepped into a place where applause was rare—
But respect was earned.
Slowly.
Painfully.
Honestly.
⭐ End of Chapter 16If you want to continue into deeper technical battles and rising stakes, please vote, comment, and add the story to your library! ⭐