Chapter 50: Exclusive Interview

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As the semifinals of “A Song to Fame” approached, Beining TV’s promotional campaign reached an unprecedented scale. Advertisements and posters were everywhere, so pervasive that almost everyone in the country had heard about the show.

Compared to the previous two seasons, this was something entirely new. The main reason was the emergence of Lin Chuan, a genius singer-songwriter, as well as the equally popular rising star in the music scene—Fang Hao.

The showdown between these two powerhouses pushed this season’s “A Song to Fame” to an unprecedented climax.

Rumors were even circulating online: whether it was Lin Chuan or Fang Hao, as long as one advanced, they were the unchallenged favorite to win this year’s competition.

As for the other group, whether it was Huang Quan or the girl, they were destined to be mere cannon fodder in the end…

Lin Chuan, twenty-eight years old. Since joining “A Song to Fame,” he first broke through the audition round with his original song “Only Because of Love,” then advanced to the top fifty with “The World Outside.”

Though he faced some setbacks when competing for the top thirty, Lin Chuan conquered the live judges with two original pieces, “Ten Years” and “Childhood,” laying a solid foundation for winning the championship.

Especially during the quarterfinals, his rendition of “Camellia” brought a new flavor to the song—if he claimed to be the original singer, I would have believed it without hesitation…

Sitting in the car sent by the program team, Lin Chuan held a tablet, reading the profiles about him compiled by netizens on the forums, a faint smile playing at his lips.

On the day the semifinals began, Lin Chuan’s treatment instantly improved. Not only was there a dedicated car to take him to the venue, but even guest tickets for Lin Yiyang and Wang Yue, who came to cheer him on, were arranged by the team.

“It really is different when you have status,” Lin Chuan laughed.

It was midday, and the scorching sun was baking the earth.

Outside Beining TV’s building, many reporters had gathered. They squinted into the sun, standing on the roadside, looking in both directions, hoping today would bring a scoop.

For them, even a single word, an expression, or a fleeting glance from Lin Chuan or Fang Hao—these focal figures—would be enough to craft a news story that grabbed attention.

Especially Lin Chuan: since the competition began, every original song he performed was a classic, both in lyrics and composition.

If they could dig up even a tidbit about him, its value would far surpass anything on Fang Hao.

“Why hasn’t he come yet? It’s almost one o’clock,” grumbled a reporter, a man of about twenty-five or six, glancing impatiently at his watch.

“What’s your rush? Can’t handle it?” a bespectacled female reporter beside him chuckled.

“It’s too hot, and there are so many people. If we keep waiting, I’ll have heatstroke… Hey! Where’s Zhou Ling from Tianyu? Haven’t seen her at all.” The male reporter craned his neck, scanning the crowd curiously.

“Hmph, she must have gone somewhere cooler. Afraid of the heat, no doubt…” The woman’s smile faded, her tone turning cold.

“Heh, did she get the better of you too? Judging by your face, I’d say I’m right.” The man grinned, a hint of schadenfreude in his voice.

“Her? That old woman in her thirties? As if!”

…

While they chatted and waited, about ten minutes’ walk from the station, a man and a woman stood by the roadside, peering into the distance.

The man was fair-skinned, looking like a freshly graduated intern.

The woman, in her thirties, wore a T-shirt and jeans. Her figure was well-proportioned, her looks only slightly above average.

“Sister Ling, is your friend reliable?” The intern frowned, glancing around after a while.

Standing here under the blazing sun was like being roasted alive. Sweat had already soaked his back, and if this kept up, even an iron man would melt.

Sister Ling curled her lip but kept her eyes fixed on the end of the road. “Don’t worry, my friend is absolutely reliable. I paid a hefty price to get him to agree.”

“Uh… Sister Ling, you didn’t pay that kind of price, did you?” The intern looked her over, surprise in his eyes.

Sister Ling spun around and barked, “Hu Ze, what are you looking at? Do you want me to gouge your eyes out? I’m as pure as they come, don’t imagine things.”

“Ahem… Sister Ling, so what price did you pay? Care to give me a hint?” Hu Ze grinned mischievously.

“You want a hint? Come here and I’ll tell you…” Sister Ling beckoned with a sly smile.

Seeing this, Hu Ze turned pale and retreated quickly.

Sister Ling snorted and ignored him, resuming her vigil down the road.

Another ten minutes passed.

Hu Ze, frowning, mopped his sweaty forehead and complained, “Sister Ling, I just don’t get it. Isn’t Lin Chuan just a contestant? Is it worth all this hassle?”

“You know nothing. Lin Chuan is the real deal. Every song he’s written is a classic. He could be a superstar in the making. If we land an exclusive interview with him, the end-of-month bonus is as good as ours…” As she spoke, Sister Ling couldn’t help but smile.

That expression, that laughter, sent a chill down Hu Ze’s spine. The oppressive heat seemed to dissipate.

Time ticked by. Suddenly, a black business van flashed into view at the end of the road.

Sister Ling’s eyes lit up. “Hu Ze, here they come. In a moment, rush up with me—I’ll ask the questions, you take notes. Got it?”

“Uh… got it, Sister Ling.” Hu Ze nodded.

With a screech, the van bearing the logo “Beining TV” stopped right beside them.

Sister Ling didn’t hesitate. After signaling “OK” to the driver, she opened the door and hopped in, Hu Ze right behind her.

“Who are you?” Lin Chuan, seated in the back, shouted in alarm when he saw the two of them enter.

“Mr. Lin, please don’t be nervous. I’m Zhou Ling, a reporter from Tianyu Net, and this is my colleague, Hu Ze!” Zhou Ling quickly closed the door and explained.

Lin Chuan frowned, sizing up the two. “What do you want? I’m on my way to the competition.”

“Hehe, Mr. Lin, we just have a few questions. It won’t take much of your time,” Zhou Ling said brightly.

Lin Chuan arched an eyebrow. He’d been silently rehearsing his competition song in his mind when Zhou Ling startled him with her sudden appearance.

Now, hearing her identity and intent, it was obvious she wanted an exclusive scoop.

After all the effort they’d made, he couldn’t very well refuse.

After a moment’s thought, Lin Chuan smiled and said, “Ask away. But if it’s too personal, I won’t answer. I hope you’ll understand.”

“Of course. Shall we begin?” Zhou Ling asked.

Seeing him agree, Zhou Ling took out a recorder and, without hesitation, began, “Mr. Lin, today is the semifinal of ‘A Song to Fame.’ Your opponent is the biggest dark horse in the race. In this clash of titans, how do you plan to defeat him? Will you use an original song or choose something else?”

“Hehe, my greatest trump card is my original songs. I’ll stick with originals for this round,” Lin Chuan replied with a smile.

“Original music? That’s something we look forward to. What’s your opinion of your opponent, Fang Hao? Could you share your thoughts?”

“Fang Hao? He’s a formidable opponent—perhaps the toughest I’ve faced since entering the competition. Honestly, I can’t guarantee I’ll beat him today. But even if I lose, I’ll have no complaints, because he really is that strong.”

Lin Chuan’s words were sincere, not just for the interview. Fang Hao was indeed a powerful rival, so much so that even Lin Chuan felt a flicker of uncertainty.

Zhou Ling smiled at his answer, her eyes sparkling as she asked, “Mr. Lin, is it true you have a son?”

“Heh, that’s hardly a secret. I do have a son—he’s very handsome, gets it from me.” Lin Chuan said this with a straight face.

Zhou Ling forced a laugh. “I imagine your wife must be beautiful too—and very happy.”

“May I skip that question?” Lin Chuan’s expression didn’t change, his gentle smile unwavering.

Lin Chuan’s refusal only piqued Zhou Ling’s curiosity, but as a professional, she quickly suppressed it and moved on.

All the while, Hu Ze sat beside her, head down, scribbling furiously, recording every word of their conversation.

Meanwhile, in a spacious room, Yang Wei sat on a sofa, his fingers tapping the armrest.

“Today’s your last chance. Are you sure you can make him quit?” a man’s voice asked suddenly.

“Relax, everything’s arranged. Lin Chuan will be out for sure,” Yang Wei replied with a quiet laugh. Suddenly, he pulled out a photograph of a five-year-old boy, his face radiant with a pure, innocent smile.