novelraw Chapter 71 Who doesn't dream of becoming a champion?
Chapter 71 Who doesn't dream of becoming a champion?
Song Ze paused for a moment.
It's not because the melody is catchy—it is indeed catchy; Yuan Yawei's voice naturally has a slightly rough texture, and even a few casual hums have a certain charm.
He paused because he habitually glanced at the system panel.
Clean and tidy.
No notification popped up.
She didn't utter a single word, which only means that her level is the same as hers or even higher.
Song Ze silently made a mental note of it.
Sure enough, the system was an automatic level detection machine.
He didn't take a detour; he went straight there.
The sound of leather shoes stepping on the tiled floor made Yuan Yawei open her eyes.
She turned her head to look at her, a hint of impatience at being disturbed in her expression.
Song Ze stood beside her, waiting for her to finish the last musical phrase.
Yuan Yawei finished speaking, raised an eyebrow, and sized him up.
Song Ze said, "The way you handled the transition in your voice was quite interesting, but you could have added a bit more emotion."
Yuan Yawei was taken aback.
She glanced at Song Ze from head to toe.
"Who are you……"
"Song Ze".
"Oh." Yuan Yawei nodded. "The one who pushed Lin Youjia out."
Song Ze chuckled: "That makes me sound very unkind."
"It's true." Yuan Yawei leaned her head back against the wall. "You just said I wasn't emotionally engaged enough?"
"It was just something I said offhand, please don't take it personally, senior."
"I don't mind." Yuan Yawei turned her head to look at him. "What I mind is why you think you can tell."
Wow, that's a straight shot.
Song Ze didn't respond to that, but instead approached the issue from a different angle.
"Senior, to be frank—with your technical skills, you would definitely be more popular if you went for mainstream love songs."
Yuan Yawei's defensive stance relaxed.
It wasn't because she was praised, but because she had heard that phrase too many times.
I've heard it from agents, from record companies like A&R, and from relatives and friends.
She rolled her eyes.
"If I wanted to be the next Fish Leong, I would have made a fortune long ago."
She put her hands into the pockets of her wide-leg trousers, and tapped the toes of her gold patent leather high heels twice on the ground.
"But what's the point of being famous for a short time? What I want is a unique Tia."
Song Ze mentally gave this sentence a perfect score.
The character was established, just like in his previous life.
Yuan Yawei is recognized in the industry as an "outlier who sings with her brain." She doesn't engage in hype or seek fame. She comes from a small city and has worked her way up to where she is today through scholarships and competition prize money.
In my previous life, I chose a niche folk song in the first round of the "Singer" competition and came in seventh place.
It's not that they lack ability, it's that they're too willful.
But this willfulness is precisely what makes her most valuable.
"I understand." Song Ze leaned against the wall next to her, maintaining a comfortable distance. "Then let me ask you a different question—senior, are you genuinely nervous, or just pretending?"
Yuan Yawei was taken aback by the question.
She turned and stared at Song Ze for two seconds, then gave a wry smile.
"Yes, we have them all."
She looked down at the tips of her shoes.
"I'm not afraid you'll laugh at me. I still don't fully understand why we have to sit there and have people score us. Music can't be compared."
Song Ze remained silent.
Yuan Yawei continued, "If you put a jazz song and a rock song together and let 500 ordinary viewers vote, what does the result represent? Does it represent which song is better? Or which song is easier to understand?"
"The latter," Song Ze answered crisply.
"Yeah, that's right." Yuan Yawei shrugged. "So this game was unfair from the start. Those who sing high notes naturally have an advantage, while those who rely on technical skill are naturally at a disadvantage. I knew that, but I still came."
She changed the subject and looked at Song Ze.
"And you? What are your thoughts?"
Song Ze raised an eyebrow.
"Do you think it doesn't matter or are you here to win the championship?" Yuan Yawei asked.
Song Ze shrugged, half-jokingly: "Who doesn't dream of winning a championship, right? Maybe I'll turn my life around?"
Yuan Yawei stared at him.
two seconds.
three seconds.
"Ha, they really have a fighting spirit!"
She chuckled, then stopped, waving her hand: "Never mind, I won't ask anymore. Everyone has their own ulterior motives anyway."
The corridor was quiet for a few seconds. The air conditioner blew down from above, causing Yuan Yawei's long, straight black hair to sway slightly.
She suddenly lowered her voice and took half a step closer.
"Guess how many versions of the plan the production team prepared for me?"
Song Ze cooperated by making an expression of listening attentively.
"Seventh edition".
Yuan Yawei held up seven fingers.
"Seven backup plans. They said they were afraid I'd mess up my impromptu performance, so they prepared 108 contingency plans in advance. I said, 'Are you making a music program or a missile defense system?'"
Song Ze couldn't help but laugh.
"So which version did you choose in the end?" Song Ze asked.
Yuan Yawei gave a sly smile.
"The eighth edition. My own."
Row.
Cruel person.
Song Ze silently recited this in his heart.
He countered, "And you, senior? Do you still think the competition is meaningless?"
Yuan Yawei's smile vanished.
She was silent for a few seconds, then her voice softened.
"It's not entirely meaningless either."
She looked up at the window at the end of the corridor, where the afternoon light streamed in, casting a long strip on the floor tiles.
"At least it gives me the opportunity to stand on such a big stage, allowing people who might never actively search for my name to hear my songs."
After he finished speaking, the corridor fell silent again.
Song Ze did not respond.
Some things don't need a response; just listening is enough.
Yuan Yawei broke the silence herself, patting off non-existent dust from her trouser legs.
"Alright, enough with the sentimentality." She reverted to her usual nonchalant attitude. "You're here to submit your music arrangement proposal?"
"Yes, the music director has urged us three times already."
"Wow, you've got some nerve." Yuan Yawei raised an eyebrow. "I submitted my proposal two weeks ago, and you're only showing up now?"
"Striving for perfection."
"Oh."
Footsteps came from the other end of the corridor.
Song Ze turned his head and saw a young man wearing a name tag jogging over, his forehead covered in a thin layer of sweat.
"Teacher Song! Teacher Song, you're here!"
Hongtao's assistant, Xiao Chen.
Xiao Chen ran up to him, panting, "Brother Hong asked me to pick you up. The music director's office, at 2 o'clock sharp."
Song Ze glanced at his phone; it was 1:53.
"Okay, I'll be right there."
Xiao Chen nodded with a sigh of relief, glanced at Yuan Yawei again, politely said goodbye, and left.
Song Ze straightened up from the wall and nodded to Yuan Yawei: "Senior, I'll be going now."
Yuan Yawei raised her hand in a "please" gesture, and after he took two steps, she suddenly spoke.
"Song Ze".
He turned around.
Yuan Yawei leaned against the wall, hands in her pockets, her expression becoming more serious.
"Don't let them lead you astray with the arrangement. Trust your own judgment."
A sentence without any beginning or end.
But Song Ze's heart skipped a beat.
What did she hear? Or was it just a gut feeling?
He didn't ask any further questions, nodded, and turned to follow Xiao Chen.
At the corner of the corridor, Xiao Chen lowered his voice and turned around to say, "Teacher Song, there's something I need to tell you in advance—Director Liang didn't sign off on your final arrangement proposal today."
Song Ze's steps were a beat slower.
"What do you mean?"