Chapter 76: Lost?

Night had fallen, and the pitch-black sky was studded with points of starlight, twinkling like bright eyes that never ceased their dance.

From the small theater at Kyoto University, bursts of energetic music erupted from time to time, reverberating with such force that one could hear it clearly even from afar.

Gao Mingyuan sat in the audience near the stage, his face clouded with displeasure.

On stage, a young and handsome man was currently singing his heart out, cradling an electric guitar and performing a song called “Love Beyond My Will.” This was the very song that Lin Chuan had sung during the auditions of “A Song to Fame.” But the man on stage now was not Lin Chuan.

His name was Li Hai, twenty-four years old, once a rising star whom Tian Di Culture had invested in heavily. Just a few days prior, during a mass exodus of artists, he had left with the others to join the Yoyo Agency.

Gao Mingyuan was seething with anger over this. Li Hai had always shown remarkable musical talent and had been known as the “Prince of Love Songs” since his university days. There was nothing extraordinary about his voice, but when he sang love songs, he brought out a unique flavor that charmed many young women.

When Gao Mingyuan first scouted him, Li Hai’s family was going through a difficult time and badly needed money. Without a second thought, Gao Mingyuan reached into his own pocket to help him out. Perhaps it was gratitude for the generosity of this wealthy boss that prompted Li Hai to sign with Tian Di Culture almost without hesitation.

Afterward, Li Hai shone in various commercial performances organized by the company, gradually gaining a modest reputation in the Kyoto music scene. Eventually, some event organizers began to request him by name.

As a rising star with a bright future ahead, Li Hai became a focus of Tian Di Culture’s efforts. Yet just as his career was blossoming, the unexpected happened. This young singer, whom Gao Mingyuan had placed such high hopes on, left without a word, defecting to Yoyo Agency. The blow left Uncle Gao depleted and cast a shadow over his heart.

Now, watching the familiar figure on stage, Gao Mingyuan could only sigh in silence.

“I’m only afraid I’ll fall in love with you, afraid to let myself get too close, afraid I have nothing to give you, loving you takes so much courage... I’m only afraid I’ll fall in love with you, maybe one day I’ll lose control, missing you only makes me suffer, loving you is something I can’t help...”

The joyful melody and simple lyrics had once been beloved by countless young people, especially in high school and university campuses where it was sung everywhere. Students, still innocent in matters of love, often hummed this tune. Over time, “Love Beyond My Will” became a fixture for confessions, proposals, and even weddings.

At this moment, Li Hai was fully immersed in his performance, but the audience below was as silent as death. There were no glow sticks, no light boards, not even a single clap. Gradually, Li Hai began to panic. Since university, he had participated in at least a dozen commercial shows, all of which had been met with thunderous applause and shrieks of excitement—so what was happening now? Had he not sung “Love Beyond My Will” well? That couldn’t be.

Meanwhile, seated not far from Uncle Gao, Yoyo Agency’s CEO Jiang Xia wore an equally dark expression.

The strange atmosphere in the venue was something he had not foreseen. With Li Hai’s current popularity, things shouldn’t be like this. What was going on? For small companies like theirs, which relied on commercial performances, a singer’s popularity and public appeal were crucial—they paved the way for future gigs.

When he had spent a fortune to poach Li Hai from Tian Di Culture, Jiang Xia believed he had found a treasure. With Yoyo’s resources and enough time, he was confident they could make Li Hai’s name known. Perhaps not a superstar, but certainly a solid second-tier singer. Every performance mattered; they were the steppingstones to success, vital for building a fanbase.

Yet, at Li Hai’s very first commercial show representing Yoyo, he was met with such cold indifference. Both Jiang Xia and Li Hai were thrown into confusion.

As “Love Beyond My Will” neared its end, the audience’s impatience began to show. Suddenly, a voice shouted out, “What the hell are you singing? Get off the stage, don’t waste our time!”

“Exactly! You think you can sing this song? Don’t insult our Brother Chuan. Get down!”

“Tsk tsk, we came here to see Brother Chuan...”

“Sigh, I almost regret it now. Should’ve spent more time in the bathroom earlier.”

A chorus of disgruntled voices rose from the crowd. At first, only a few people complained, but soon, the entire theater was engulfed in boos.

It was hardly surprising. Lin Chuan, celebrated as a genius songwriter and crowned champion of “A Song to Fame,” had been embraced by a legion of fans. Every song of his was considered a classic. To these diehard supporters, only a superstar or Lin Chuan himself could do justice to his originals.

Such opinions might be somewhat exaggerated. Every singer has a unique style and brings something different to a song. But all this served to highlight Lin Chuan’s unparalleled place in their hearts.

Li Hai was simply unlucky. He, too, was a fan of Lin Chuan’s work, especially those signature hits that inspired deep admiration for this young father barely in his thirties.

Before this performance, Li Hai had already decided to sing one of Lin Chuan’s songs—after all, Lin Chuan was wildly popular. Maybe it would boost his own standing. “Old Boy” was a great and uplifting song, but Li Hai couldn’t capture its essence; it required life experience and unbroken dreams, otherwise it would sound hollow and awkward.

Then there was “Boundless Oceans, Vast Skies”—an outstanding song, but also in Cantonese. Li Hai knew nothing of the language, and learning it on the spot could easily backfire.

That left only “Love Beyond My Will,” which seemed most suitable for him. With his title as the Prince of Love Songs, he didn’t expect to surpass Lin Chuan, but surely, he wouldn’t do too badly, right?

And so, he froze. Stunned as if struck by lightning, he stood stiffly on stage, his face drained of color as he endured the barrage of boos.

In truth, it wasn’t that he sang poorly. Had he chosen another artist’s song, he might have been cheered and supported by his own loyal fans.

But the reason for his predicament was his choice of song. With his current fame, he simply couldn’t carry Lin Chuan’s work; not only would the audience not buy it, they’d attack him for it—as was happening now.

The scene devolved into chaos, with jeers and laughter echoing through the theater like a hammer striking Li Hai and Jiang Xia’s hearts.

At that moment, the host hurried onto the stage, approached Li Hai, and whispered something to him. Li Hai nodded weakly and staggered off the stage.

Only then did the chaotic atmosphere begin to calm, the agitated audience settling back into their seats and focusing their attention on the host.

“Just now, singer Li Hai gave us a wonderful rendition of ‘Love Beyond My Will.’ But the show isn’t over yet. Next, please enjoy Wang Lu’s performance of ‘Candle’…”

Before the host could finish, the audience erupted again.

“Yeah, right! You call that wonderful? Who are you kidding?”

“Damn it, we’re here for Lin Chuan! What’s with this Li Hai, and who the heck is this Lu? Get them off the stage, bring Brother Chuan up!”

“Where’s Brother Chuan? Why isn’t he on stage yet? If he doesn’t show up soon, I want my money back…”

The atmosphere grew even more chaotic, and the host, flustered and tongue-tied, was at a loss for words. Clearly, this host’s ability to manage the scene was sorely lacking—barely even third-tier in the industry.

At the same time, Gao Mingyuan and his daughter Gao Meng were equally anxious.

They sat beneath the stage, listening to the crowd behind them, uncertainty growing in their hearts. The show was more than halfway over, nearly finished, yet Lin Chuan still hadn’t appeared. What was going on?

“Dad, what’s happening? Is this Lin Chuan even reliable? Why isn’t he here yet?” Gao Meng already harbored hostility toward Lin Chuan, and her tone was now even more unfriendly.

“I’ll call him. Could he really be in trouble?” Gao Mingyuan pulled out his phone, his face dark.

“It’s his first time in Kyoto, right? Maybe he got lost?” Gao Meng frowned.

Uncle Gao glanced at the disorderly scene, quickly found Lin Chuan’s number, and dialed. After a brief wait, an icy voice answered: “The number you have dialed is temporarily unavailable. Please try again later…”

Then came an English message.

Gao Mingyuan’s face darkened further as he turned to Gao Meng. “Go outside and check. If Lin Chuan arrives, bring him in immediately.”

“He’s not a kid, does he really need an escort? Fine, fine, I’ll go, alright?”