As the mentors took the stage, the whole crowd erupted in cheers.

The audience was overflowing with excitement—this final they had been waiting so long for was finally about to begin!

For them, this match promised spectacle from every angle. Two beautiful female singers competing on the same stage, and behind them, two lyricists and composers practically at each other’s throats.

This was what you called full of hype.

Even the audience seats now looked like a battlefield, divided as clearly as Chu River and Han Border. On the right side were all Xia Xiyao’s fans, holding banners and shouting out their support.

On the left, it was Miao Anyun’s fanbase, just as fired up. Their light boards waved in the air, their chants nonstop and thunderous.

Gu Xingyi glanced over and couldn’t help but purse his lips—on one of the banners, in the corner, he spotted his own name!

But why was his name written so small? If you didn’t look carefully, you wouldn’t even see it!

Totally ridiculous!

What Gu Xingyi didn’t know was—his name wasn’t supposed to be on that banner at all.

That banner was personally made by Xia Xiyao’s number one fan, Xiao Hong, along with a whole army of other fans. But during the design process, one university fan named Xiao Ming had insisted they include Gu Xingyi’s name.

Xiao Hong had no choice but to give in and added Gu Xingyi’s name in the corner to satisfy Xiao Ming.

Beyond the live audience, all the major streaming platforms were packed. The official StarSong Gathering livestream even started lagging at one point. Ren Chao had to call in the tech team to quickly add several dedicated data channels just to barely stabilize the servers.

Wiping the nervous sweat from his forehead, Ren Chao remembered—the last time a livestream crashed like this was during the debut stream of the previous top superstar in the entertainment industry.

But while the broadcast and venue were heating up, the backstage area was eerily quiet. Even the staff’s movements seemed unconsciously softer.

And the reason for this odd atmosphere was none other than Xia Xiyao, sitting in front of the vanity mirror as a makeup artist worked on her.

Across from her, Miao Anyun was dressed in a black evening gown, her expression complicated as she stared at Xia Xiyao.

She didn’t understand. Today’s theme was clearly tragedy and horror, so why was Xia Xiyao wearing a bright red wedding dress?

And it wasn’t just Miao Anyun—everyone present was confused. How could such a festive outfit have anything to do with today’s keywords?

Xia Xiyao sat quietly in front of the mirror, calm as still water. She was trying to find the right state of mind. Gu Xingyi had taught her: when singing this song, her expression should be solemn, and her eyes should be blank, but tinged with sadness.

Oh, and Gu Xingyi had also said—it was best not to blink while singing this song.

Xia Xiyao remembered it all. Even if it was difficult, as long as he said it, she’d do her best to follow through.

On stage, the host had already invited both contestants to come up. A staff member quietly called for them backstage.

Xia Xiyao steadied herself and stood up. Alongside Miao Anyun, she slowly walked toward the stage. At that moment, all the lights dimmed, with only two spotlights shining down on them.

“Wooo~~~”

As soon as they appeared, a wave of gasps echoed from the audience. Everyone’s eyes widened in disbelief as they stared at Xia Xiyao.

Some even rubbed their eyes, their faces full of confusion and shock.

What stunned them was Xia Xiyao’s outfit—she wore a phoenix coronet and bridal robes in blazing red. Under the spotlight, she looked breathtakingly beautiful.

But! This had nothing to do with today’s theme!

In contrast, Miao Anyun wore a black gown, dignified and solemn, much more in line with today’s keywords.

No one could understand why Xia Xiyao would show up dressed like this.

In the livestream, after a brief moment of silence, the comments exploded:

    “No way, right? Am I seeing things? What is Xia Xiyao doing?”
    “I don’t get it, seriously. Are Xia Xiyao and Gu Xingyi giving up? Gonna sing the wedding march or something?”
    “Heh! Wu Fan was right all along! Gu Xingyi’s just a showy clown! Look at this—exposed in an instant!”

“The match hasn’t even started yet. What’s with all the barking? Who knows, there might be a twist coming.”

“A twist? If this gets flipped, I’ll eat ten pounds of food!”

“Another one just here to mooch attention!”

“But Xia Xiyao really does look gorgeous in that wedding dress! Damn that dog Gu Xingyi! He’s wrecking my cultivation!”

On stage, the host Chen Xue’er was doing her usual pre-show Q&A with the contestants, but no matter how she tried to question Xia Xiyao, the only response she got was one word: “Secret!”

Chen Xue’er was clearly frustrated—she was dying to know what Xia Xiyao and Gu Xingyi were hiding!

Down below the stage, among the audience, Wu Fan had also arrived early. The moment he saw Xia Xiyao’s outfit, he almost burst out laughing.

So… they were throwing in the towel?

Too bad giving up wasn’t an option!

A mocking smile crept into Wu Fan’s eyes. He had polished a haunting, tragic song specifically for this competition.

The pre-performance interview came to an end. This round would start with Miao Anyun’s performance.

Chen Xue’er and Xia Xiyao both nodded to the audience and stepped back from the stage.

The lights dimmed once again, and a moment later, music began. A spotlight abruptly lit up Miao Anyun. Her expression was sorrowful, one hand slowly reaching out, as if longing for something.

A gentle piano melody began, accompanied by the low moan of a violin. Together with Miao Anyun’s expression, it immediately pulled the audience into the mood of the piece.

It was like they could feel the pain spreading through their bodies.

The big screen behind them displayed the full title and details of the song:

“Mutation.”

A moment later, Miao Anyun’s voice rang out gently—it turned out this was a song that depicted the tragic life of a cancer patient.

The pain of discovering she had cancer was portrayed vividly through the lyrics. Miao Anyun’s voice, paired with her stage performance, made the emotions land even more powerfully.

As the song reached its middle section, the music suddenly shifted—becoming low, eerie, even terrifying.

The lyrics, at just the right moment, reflected the patient’s mental breakdown and the horrifying images that began to haunt her mind.

Gu Xingyi sat silently in the audience, listening intently. He had to admit—Wu Fan was the real deal. The title of “Godfather of Music” was well-deserved. And Miao Anyun had done an excellent job conveying the deeper message behind the song.

Both the lyrics and her expressions were flawless.

But then, the music changed again—suddenly Gu Xingyi’s expression turned a little… weird.

This?

Wasn’t this a little too highbrow?

Could normal people even understand it?

On stage, the lyrics disappeared. As the Western orchestral music continued, the entire arrangement became even heavier—like it was voicing pain without words.

There were no more lyrics—just Miao Anyun performing with emotion.

At that point, quite a few people in the audience began frowning. Once the lyrics were gone, they suddenly couldn’t understand what was going on anymore.

In the livestream, where everything had been solemn up to now, the comments suddenly exploded:

    “Huh?... What is this?”
    “She was singing just fine. What the heck is this part? Poor YunYun. What even is this?”
    “??? What a bunch of clueless yokels! Can’t you get it? This part is the soul of the whole piece! It expresses the fear, horror, and oppression of cancer! Wu Fan is a genius!”
    “Chills down my spine!”
    “Well, it is effective—this could totally be the soundtrack to a horror movie!”
    “This is the power of Western classical music! If you’re uncultured, how could you possibly get it?”
    “Ah? Yes yes yes, you’re absolutely right. I’m just a dumb mutt. I don’t deserve to listen.”

Back in the audience, Wu Fan had long since closed his eyes, fully immersed in the music.

He absolutely loved this part—he felt it was nothing short of a divine touch.

Now this… this was art.