He was in college, but his songs were at the Grammys.

Chapter 55: A Popular Racetrack in Disarray

Wang Weizhou is in the center, with Li Jinghua and Zhao Yazhi on his left, and Zhou Guoping and Xu Huaimin on his right.

Wang Weizhou picked up the microphone, his gaze sweeping across the entire room:

"The rating stage is now open, the first track—ethnic vocal music."

As soon as he finished speaking, a slight commotion arose in the contestants' stands.

The athletes on the ethnic minority track stood up, looked at each other, some took a deep breath, some clenched their fists, and some lowered their heads and muttered something.

Then, the first contestant walked onto the stage.

The morning passed by in a series of performances.

The folk music track has ended, and the bel canto track has begun.

Chen Ming sat in the corner, quietly watching each performance on stage, occasionally jotting down a few notes in his notebook.

Fu Yun was standing next to him, her palms sweating with nervousness.

"I'm next..." he muttered to himself, "I'm next..."

Chen Ming glanced at him, said nothing, and simply patted his shoulder lightly.

It was Fu Yun's turn.

He walked onto the stage, stood under the spotlight, and took a deep breath.

Then he opened his mouth.

It is a classic bel canto piece.

An Italian aria.

His voice is deep and steady, with clean and crisp high notes, and his emotional delivery is just right.

As the song ended, all five mentors raised their flags simultaneously.

All four sides.

Fu Yun was stunned for a moment, then a huge smile spread across his face.

Grade A.

He did it.

As he walked off the stage, he practically floated back, plopped down next to Chen Ming, and grabbed Chen Ming's arm.

"Grade A! Chen Ming, did you see that?! Grade A!"

Chen Ming laughed: "I saw it, impressive."

Fu Yun grinned, looking like a fool.

But he quickly composed himself and looked at the stage: "However, there are people who are better than me."

Chen Ming followed his gaze.

On the stage, a girl was standing.

She wore a simple white dress, her long hair flowing down her shoulders, and she looked gentle and sweet, like a girl next door.

Su Qian.

Inksea Records' secret weapon.

The moment she opened her mouth, the entire studio fell silent.

It was a magnificent bel canto piece, with high notes as resounding as a great bell and low notes as steady as a mountain.

Her voice had a depth beyond her years, which contrasted sharply with her gentle face.

All five mentors raised their flags simultaneously.

Five sides.

The first S-level in the vocal track.

A burst of enthusiastic applause and gasps of surprise erupted from the audience.

"Holy crap... this contrast is just too much..."

"So cute, and she sings so well?"

"What kind of monster is Mo Hai hiding?!"

Fu Yun's mouth was agape, and she couldn't close it for a long time.

Then he turned to look at Chen Ming and said quietly, "I suddenly feel like my A-level isn't so impressive after all..."

Chen Ming smiled but didn't say anything.

On the ethnic track, an S-class train also emerged.

Kizawa from the Kyoto Academy of Performing Arts delivered a powerful and moving performance of a traditional Chinese opera piece, earning unanimous approval from all five mentors.

After a morning of competition, the two S-class categories were won by the bel canto and folk music tracks, respectively.

During the lunch break, the athletes ate and chatted in the rest area.

The competitors on the popular track sat together, the atmosphere somewhat somber.

"Did you see that? In the bel canto and folk singing categories, we already have S-level performers."

"It's our turn this afternoon, the pressure is immense."

"The mentors are too strict with my singing skills, I'm a little panicked."

Nearby, competitors from other tracks passed by, their eyes filled with a subtle tension.

Someone muttered under their breath:

"Can a popular track produce an S-class champion?"

"Hard to say, maybe they value market share and traffic more?"

"With such strict singing requirements, can they handle it?"

"Just wait and see, we'll find out this afternoon."

Those words reached the ears of the popular track competitors, making the atmosphere even more tense.

Chen Ming sat in the corner, quietly eating his boxed lunch, ignoring the discussions around him.

He was thinking about what to sing in the afternoon.

He had a clear understanding of the mentors' grading criteria.

Technique, emotion, and expressiveness are all indispensable.

If he just wanted to get an A grade, he could just sing any song.

But if you want to get an S-rank...

He needs to show something real.

It's time to show off your masterful singing skills.

What song should we choose?

He put down his chopsticks and fell into deep thought.

Just then, a contestant walked past him, sighing as he went:

"Sigh, I only got a D-rank. I actually felt like I could still salvage the situation..."

Upon hearing this, Chen Ming subconsciously hummed, "What can I do to save this?"

The voice was very soft, just a casual hum.

But the athlete stopped in his tracks instantly.

He turned abruptly to Chen Ming, his eyes filled with a hint of resentment: "Chen Ming, we know you're capable, but can't you at least give us some face?"

Chen Ming then realized what was happening and smiled somewhat embarrassedly, "Sorry, sorry, I was practicing the song I'm going to sing this afternoon."

The contestant's eyes lit up instantly.

"The song we're singing this afternoon?!" He leaned closer. "What song? What song?"

Just as Chen Ming was about to speak, the contestant turned and ran back to his teammates, excitedly shouting:

"Guys! I know what Chen Ming is going to sing this afternoon!"

A group of people immediately surrounded them: "What? What?"

The man cleared his throat and mimicked Chen Ming's tone: "What can I do to save them?"

After he finished singing, he looked at the crowd expectantly.

Everyone waited a few seconds.

Then someone asked, "What's next?"

The man was taken aback: "That's all I heard."

Everyone rolled their eyes.

"Then what did you say?"

"Exactly, what's the point of saying that?"

"You got me all excited for nothing!"

The man scratched his head, looking somewhat embarrassed.

"But this line sounds really nice, don't you guys think?"

After thinking about it, everyone agreed that it did sound quite nice.

Thus, the song Chen Ming was to sing that afternoon became a small mystery.

The phrase "What can I use to save them?" quietly circulated among the contestants.

At 2 PM, the popular track rating officially began.

The first contestant to step onto the stage was a male student recommended by an ordinary university, who sang a popular love song.

The singing was decent, but the breath control was a bit unstable, and the high notes were clearly strained.

The mentors were expressionless.

After finishing his song, Wang Weizhou picked up the microphone and spoke calmly:

"Technically, breath control needs improvement, the high register is a bit tight, and the emotional expression is superficial."

He turned and exchanged glances with the other mentors.

Then, of the five flags, only one was lit.

Grade D.

The boy turned pale, bowed, and left the stage.

The second contestant was in a similar situation.

Two flags, Grade C.

The third contestant, a flag, is a D-level player.

The fourth contestant, with two flags, is classified as C.

The fifth contestant, a flag, is ranked D.

……

One after another, they were all low-level ratings.

The atmosphere in the audience grew increasingly tense.

The competitors on the popular track looked at each other, their expressions not very good.

The competitors on other tracks also began to whisper among themselves:

"Holy crap, all of them are Ds and Cs?"

"Is the pop music scene really that bad?"

"My entire army was wiped out!"

"This singing is terrible!"

"Don't they practice singing regularly?"

"Pop music does not place that much emphasis on singing skills, but this... is too exaggerated."

The whispers drifted into the ears of the popular track riders like thorns.

Some people lowered their heads, some clenched their fists, and some had red eyes.

On stage, the faces of the five mentors grew increasingly dark.

Especially Xu Huaimin, the mentor sitting next to him, is a famous composer with extremely strict requirements for music.

At this moment, his brows were furrowed, his lips were pursed into a line, and he exuded an aura that kept strangers at bay.

After another contestant finished singing and left the stage, he finally couldn't hold back anymore.

He rubbed his temples, picked up the microphone, and began with a serious expression: "I would like to say a few words to all the athletes on the popular tracks."

The whole place fell silent.

Xu Huaimin's gaze swept across the audience, his voice not loud, but every word clear and forceful:

"To become a successful 'Chinese Singer,' it's not enough to just have a large following. You need technical skill, emotional depth, and expressiveness. All three are essential and indispensable."

Then his tone became even more serious:

"If you only see singing as a means to become famous, then this stage is not suitable for you. You would be better off going to a boy group audition."

After he finished speaking, he put down the microphone.

The audience was silent.

The riders on the popular track looked even more grim.

Wang Weizhou sighed softly, picked up the microphone, and tried to ease the tension: "Next contestant."

The staff member opened the list and read out the names:

"Next up—Chen Ming."