Chapter 36: He Did It

PS: Thanks to Good Morning and Chen Xi for the generous support.

Amidst the enthusiastic cheers, Lin Chuan stepped onto the stage. The host said a few brief words before quickly stepping down.

As the competition reached this point, Lin Chuan’s reputation had soared. Among the five hundred spectators present, more than half had come specifically for him.

Especially those seated in the front row—none more so.

“Daddy, Daddy’s on stage!” Lin Yi Yang’s eyes sparkled as he exclaimed excitedly.

“You know, when Lin Chuan stands on that stage, he really does look like a star. But that beard… couldn’t he have shaved before coming?” Yuan Ye remarked, stroking his own chin.

“My daddy says a real man should have a beard. Uncle, why don’t you have one?” Lin Yi Yang reached over to touch Yuan Ye’s smooth chin, finding not a single stubble.

“Pfft!”

Tang Qin Ru couldn’t help but laugh, rolling her eyes. “Yi Yang, your uncle is still growing up. How could he have a beard?”

“Sister Qin Ru, what does ‘growing up’ mean?” Lin Yi Yang blinked his big eyes, looking utterly confused.

“Tang Qin Ru, that’s enough. Don’t talk about such things in front of the child…” Tang Qin Ru had just started to explain when Yuan Ye’s expression darkened, clearly annoyed.

Meanwhile, Wang Yue’s gaze never left the stage, completely ignoring the lively banter between the other two pairs.

“Hello, judges!” Lin Chuan picked up the microphone, smiling warmly.

The judges below were all veterans, especially Chen Dong, who had followed Lin Chuan’s journey from the preliminary rounds.

Seeing Chen Dong’s serious face, Lin Chuan felt a sense of familiarity and comfort.

“Lin Chuan, I’ve attended all the previous rounds. You’ve performed brilliantly every time. But I’m curious—why did you choose to sing ‘Camellia’ today? You know, this song isn’t just difficult to sing; it’s far more complicated…” The speaker was Liu Ke.

As a senior in the music industry, Liu Ke had covered many popular songs, including ‘Camellia.’ He had tried it himself.

Yet when he sang it, something essential was always missing. Not just him—many accomplished singers had attempted it, but without exception, all failed.

The failure wasn’t due to lack of skill; quite the opposite. Their singing abilities were at their peak. Their covers, while never identical to the original, each brought their own flavor.

But only this song—‘Camellia’—left him with a peculiar sense of defeat after singing it.

Everyone feels homesick, especially those in the entertainment industry, constantly traveling for performances, events, filming, and so on. Often, they go months or even years without returning home.

Meeting their parents becomes an arduous task.

That’s why they choose to cover ‘Camellia.’ After all, anyone can relate to longing for home.

But when they actually sang it, they found that the ‘homesickness’ in the song wasn’t as simple as it appeared. The emotions expressed were beyond their understanding.

If Lin Chuan hadn’t seen the story hidden behind the song in his mind, he would never have grasped its true meaning or depth.

Lin Chuan didn’t reply—not because he didn’t want to, but because just as he was about to speak, Yang Wei interrupted.

“Teacher Liu Ke, in my opinion, we shouldn’t put too much pressure on the contestants. Since Lin Chuan chose this song, he must be ready. How about this? If Lin Chuan can capture even half the essence of the song, we’ll let him pass. I believe the audience won’t object—right?”

Watching Yang Wei smugly ramble on, Lin Chuan wished he could rush off the stage and give him a good beating.

What does he mean, ‘the song I chose’? He forced this song on me!

But that was only in his mind; Lin Chuan didn’t actually do it.

The audience whispered among themselves, and the judges quietly discussed the situation.

Yang Wei’s words seemed to offer a significant concession, but in truth, it was anything but. Especially for Liu Ke, who knew firsthand the difficulty of ‘Camellia.’ Scoring even two or three points was nearly impossible, let alone five, and Lin Chuan was just a contestant.

The first part was straightforward: describing the beauty of home and longing for it, something any singer could convey effortlessly and with genuine emotion.

But the chorus was entirely different. Liu Ke and the others had failed precisely because they couldn’t grasp its meaning.

Imagine—a cheerful song suddenly grows heavy, tinged with a subtle anger. Who could understand what’s hidden within?

They didn’t understand, but Lin Chuan did. As modern industry advanced, his hometown had transformed from beautiful mountains into towering skyscrapers.

It was an outcry, a protest against environmental destruction.

After a while, as the discussion faded, the most respected judge, Chen Dong, picked up the microphone and said solemnly, “Begin.”

Lin Chuan took a deep breath, composed himself, and nodded to the band behind him.

The music began.

At the start, everyone listened quietly to Lin Chuan’s singing.

The lyrics were beautiful, the melody lively. Unconsciously, they found themselves transported to a mountain filled with blooming camellias—simple tea farmers, gentle sunlight, and fresh floral scents.

Everything was idyllic.

Yang Wei, like the others, closed his eyes slightly, immersing himself in the scene the song painted.

Suddenly, the tone shifted, growing heavy. Each word Lin Chuan sang carried a hint of anger—a force that struck at their hearts.

Everyone listening felt their emotions stirred; faint traces of anger appeared on their faces.

They couldn’t explain this anger or truly feel it, but strangely, as Lin Chuan sang, they grew inexplicably furious—very angry.

Gradually, some wept, some clenched their fists, others with a deep sense of immersion glimpsed something indistinct, yet couldn’t see it clearly.

Despite this, the anger remained.

In the auditorium, holding over five hundred people, this emotion spread to every individual.

Especially Yang Wei—his expression twisted, eyes wide, two flames blazing within.

He was angry, truly angry.

But several factors fueled it.

He was swept up in the song’s anger, yet also angry at himself—unable to comprehend how Lin Chuan could perform the song to such a level, nearly matching the original’s impact.

Wasn’t he supposed to be eliminated? Wasn’t he incapable of reaching such heights? Didn’t even the industry’s veterans fail to truly interpret ‘Camellia’?

But how did he do it?

Time flowed, day and night passed.

Ahem… Within a few minutes, ‘Camellia’ finally ended.

The audience seemed to have experienced a journey from beauty to anger, then to helplessness and despair—all brought about by Lin Chuan’s singing.

It was a strange feeling—indescribably so.

Perhaps this was the pinnacle of heartfelt singing.

At the moment the music stopped, there were no cheers, no excitement, no applause.

They remained lost in that world, unable to pull themselves out.

No one knew how long this lasted, until suddenly a four- or five-year-old boy stood up from his seat, clapping hard and shouting joyously:

“Daddy, you’re amazing! I love you!”

With his cry, the others snapped out of their trance.

“Wow!”

Cheers, shouts, and emotional sobs echoed throughout the auditorium.

The judges wore varied expressions. Yang Wei slumped in his seat, his face ashen, silent as a deflated ball.

Earlier, he had sworn to make Lin Chuan stop on this stage tonight. But instead, he had unwittingly helped Lin Chuan succeed once more.

And this success surpassed every previous competition.

Chen Dong still sat steady as a mountain, but a hint of satisfaction appeared on his otherwise stern face.

Liu Ke and the composer were utterly stunned.

“Oh my, Chuan, you’re incredible. I was so worried for you, but the moment you began, I realized my concerns were unfounded. I never thought you could truly interpret ‘Camellia’…” The host returned to the stage, speaking excitedly.

Lin Chuan smiled modestly and responded with a few polite words.

“Well, after hearing Lin Chuan’s ‘Camellia,’ the voting is now open. Everyone, please pick up your voting devices and cast your sacred vote…” The host announced to the audience.

Instantly, the crowd lowered their heads, operating their voting devices. Even Lin Yi Yang was busy, face aglow with enthusiasm.

Meanwhile, the big screen behind Lin Chuan rapidly tallied the votes.

When the channel finally closed, the final tally appeared.

The host turned around with a smile, but when he saw the number on the screen, his whole body trembled, and his face changed dramatically.