novelraw Chapter 53 Song Ze passes the audition for "Singer"
Chapter 53 Song Ze passes the audition for "Singer"
She stood against the wall in the corridor for almost twenty minutes.
When Song Ze came out, he only said one sentence: "Never mind."
Zhang Juan quickly chased after him while browsing food guides.
A search for "Changsha stinky tofu" yields over 300 results.
Ranked by rating, first place is Black Classic, second place is Fire Palace, and third place is...
She was about to give him a name when Song Ze, without turning his head, said, "Any place will do, as long as it's edible."
Zhang Juan rolled her eyes and opened the navigation.
Stepping out of the Hunan TV building, the September heat in Changsha was sweltering.
Song Ze walked ahead, at a moderate pace.
Zhang Juan jogged to catch up.
"What did the four music directors talk about in private?"
"Arrangement implementation plan".
"and then?"
"They said Hongtao will confirm the follow-up arrangements with me."
"Did it pass or not?"
Song Ze stopped and turned around.
"Mr. Zhang, how many years have you been a broker?"
Eight years.
What does "'Follow-up arrangements confirmed by Hongtao'" mean in layman's terms?
Zhang Juan froze for a second, then covered her face with both hands.
"I'm so nervous."
"It's alright, I'll treat you to French food later."
"roll."
The stinky tofu stall is located at the corner of Pozi Street, with a queue stretching twenty meters out.
The two wore masks and mingled at the back of the line.
Zhang Juan took a bite of the stinky tofu, and her mind finally came back to normal.
"Your flight back to Shanghai is at 10 AM tomorrow. You have a meeting with Dilraba's team this afternoon—"
"Reschedule."
"Stay one more day. Lin Shishi has her audition tomorrow, I'll go check on her."
"What's your relationship?"
Song Ze stuffed the whole piece of stinky tofu into his mouth.
I owe her a bottle of water.
Zhang Juan stared at him for five seconds, then lowered her head and continued eating.
The hotel room that night.
Song Ze lay on the bed staring at the ceiling.
One sentence kept repeating in my mind.
"Her influence is there, but your handling is more—"
What else?
Better? Wilder? More unruly?
Lin Yilian left after saying only half a sentence.
Song Ze rolled over.
If it is "better", there is no need to pause.
If it's about "greater potential," then there's no need to swallow it back.
She paused and explained that the word needed to be considered.
Someone who sang a Chinese song at the Grammys gave his evaluation of G6 as "uncertain" after listening to it.
This carries far more weight than Ding Feng's provocation.
Ding Feng's doubts can be silenced by a single G6.
Lin Yilian's half-sentence couldn't stop her.
The techniques that Sa Dingding taught him—the way to exert force, control his breath, and switch between resonance cavities—were all "skills."
Lin Yilian recognized the spell, and then heard something else outside of it.
He picked up his phone and glanced at it.
11:12 PM.
go to bed.
I have to be a cheerleader for someone again tomorrow.
September 6th, 1:40 PM.
Outside the main entrance of Hunan TV building.
The sun was scorching hot.
Song Ze stood under the roadside trees, his hat brim pulled low, clutching a bottle of Nongfu Spring water in his hand.
A line of text was written on the bottle in black marker.
A black minivan was parked in front of the building.
Lin Shishi came down.
She wore a white shirt, her ponytail was tied tightly, and her makeup was very light.
The agent followed behind, carrying a file bag, and quickened his pace by twice as much.
Lin Shishi glanced at the entrance and spotted the person with the hat brim pulled low under the roadside tree in the crowd.
She paused for a moment.
Song Ze walked over and handed her the bottled water.
Lin Shishi looked down at the words on the bottle.
"I forgot to say thank you yesterday."
She stared at the words for two seconds, then looked up.
"I saw the word 'Keep it going' written on the bottle cap."
Lin Shishi pursed her lips, took the water bottle, and turned to walk towards the building.
She took three steps and then turned back.
"Are you waiting outside?"
"Um."
"How long will it take?"
"I'll wait as long as you sing."
Lin Shishi didn't look back and went into the building with the bottle of water.
Song Ze sat in the milk tea shop outside for an hour and a half.
When the third cup of lemon tea was finished, the side door of the building opened.
Lin Shishi came out first.
His face was pale, and he was walking abnormally fast.
The agent practically jogged after him.
The two got into the van, closed the door, and drove away.
Song Ze put down his cup and dialed Zhang Juan's number.
"Find out the audition results for Lin Shishi."
Forty minutes later, Zhang Juan returned the call.
"The judging panel's feedback was that 'A Little Happiness' was very well-made, but its style was too 'safe,' lacking the fierceness and memorable moments needed for a competitive performance. They said they would notify the audience within three to five days, but the insider's exact words were—'very risky.'"
Song Ze hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair.
Too safe.
The translation is: failed.
Just like the world before my rebirth.
He stood up and walked towards the hotel.
That evening, Song Ze sent Lin Shishi three WeChat messages.
"Are you there?"
"Let's go out for dinner."
Have you ever tried French food in Changsha?
I have read all three messages, but have received no replies.
He dialed the number again, but no one answered.
Zhang Juan sent a message: "Her agent said she won't see anyone, so don't make a fool of yourself."
Song Ze opened the food delivery app and searched for milk tea shops near the hotel.
Twenty minutes later, he stood in front of the fire door on the rooftop of the hotel, carrying two cans of bottled milk tea.
The door wasn't locked.
I pushed open the door, and the night wind rushed in.
A figure leaned against the railing at the edge of the rooftop.
The hem of her white shirt was blown up by the wind, and half of her ponytail was loose.
Song Ze walked over, sat down next to her, and placed a can of milk tea on the cement table next to her.
"Drinking milk tea makes me feel better."
Lin Shishi didn't move.
The silence lasted for about ten seconds.
Do you think I'm a terrible player?
Her voice was hoarse when she spoke.
Song Ze did not respond.
"I prepared for two months," Lin Shishi said, staring at the distant lights of the city. "The vocal coach, the arrangement team, the recording studio—everything was top-notch. I sang 'A Little Happiness' to the best of my ability."
She paused for a moment.
"Then they told me, it's very safe."
The light shone up from below, and her chin trembled slightly.
"Am I only destined for the idol route?"
"It's not that it's impossible," Song Ze said, leaning against the railing with his legs stretched out. "You're so pretty, you could easily make a living off your looks, and you could become a top star even if you went all the way down the idol route. You don't have to be obsessed with being a singer."
Lin Shishi turned her head, her eyes red.
Are you trying to comfort me or being sarcastic?
"State the facts."
"And what about you? You could make a living with your looks, so why did you have to go on 'Singer'?"
Song Ze did not answer.
The wind blew again.
A car horn can be heard in the distance.
"Because I'm not reconciled," Lin Shishi continued, her voice lowering, "I'm not reconciled either."
Song Ze stood up, dusted off his pants, and held out a hand to her.
"Crying won't solve anything, but a top-notch French meal might. Let's go, it's on me."
Lin Shishi stared at his hand without moving.
"It's 10 o'clock now, which French restaurant is still open?"
"The most expensive one in Changsha has a French chef, and the kitchen bar is open until 1 a.m. I've checked."
Lin Shishi was stunned for a moment, then raised her hand to wipe her face and offered her her hand.
Song Ze pulled her up and shoved the can of milk tea into her hand.
"Let me drink this first to fill my stomach."
The French restaurant is located near Wuyi Square.
Song Ze ordered his appetizer, main course, and dessert in French, and the waiter's gaze towards him changed.
Lin Shishi held up her wine glass, watching him cut the foie gras.
When did you learn French?
"In my dreams."
Song Ze did not look up.
Lin Shishi didn't press the matter further.
Throughout the meal, Song Ze did not mention the audition.
He recounted his early days as an extra—once, he played a passerby who was slashed, and the director called for twelve takes because he fell in a different direction each time.
Lin Shishi smiled.
It was 12:30 a.m. when I left the French restaurant.
Lin Shishi walked ahead, her steps much lighter than a few hours ago.
"Song Ze".
"Um."
"Next time I'll make them say 'it's too dangerous'."
Song Ze didn't say anything, but smiled.
June 8, Shanghai.
In a private room at a roast lamb chop restaurant, Song Ze and Dilraba sat facing each other, the table a mess.
The last piece of roasted lamb chop sits in the center of the plate, its golden, bubbling sauce still sizzling.
Two pairs of chopsticks were extended at the same time.
"Junior sister, don't you understand the importance of respecting the elderly and caring for the young?"
"You're only two years older than me!" Dilraba retorted defiantly with her chopsticks. "Besides, I saw it first!"
"As your senior, I'm ordering you to let go."
"Bullying me!"
Dilraba muttered something and pulled her chopsticks back.
Song Ze took the lamb chop.
Three seconds later, just as he lowered his head to bite into the lamb chop, a pair of chopsticks swept across his plate.
The whole roasted potato disappeared.
He looked up.
Dilraba stuffed a potato into her mouth, her cheeks puffed out like round balls, and winked at him.
"We're even."
Song Ze didn't bother to argue.
The reason for this meal was simple—after returning from Changsha, Zhang Juan said that there was a promotional event after the theme song of "Hot Girl" was released, and Dilraba's team happened to be in Shanghai for a schedule, so they arranged to have a meal together.
He was about to pour water when his phone rang.
Caller ID: Hongtao.
Song Ze pressed the speakerphone button and placed it on the table.
Dilraba, still chewing on a potato, curiously leaned closer.
"Song Ze, congratulations." Hong Tao's voice was tinged with obvious amusement. "The final selection has been passed. We'll send someone to Shanghai next week to finalize the contract details."
Song Ze leaned back in his chair.
"Thank you, Brother Hong."
Dilraba clapped silently on the other side, her mouth agape in an "O" shape.
Hong Tao's next words made her hand, which was halfway through drumming, stop in mid-air.
"By the way, just a heads-up. There have been a lot of changes in the final selection list this time. HIM International Music is really pushing Yoga Lin to stay—"