Chapter 14: "Never Give Up on Your Dreams!"

In the audience beneath the stage, Wu Jia sat in his chair, watching Zhou Ran sing. His eyes were vacant, his whole being utterly dispirited and listless.

Wu Jia was an insignificant cog among the countless laborers of Xingcheng, getting up earlier than the rooster and going to bed later than the dog every day, all for a meager salary of three or four thousand yuan—barely enough to eke out an existence in this first-tier city. But it was merely existence. After paying rent, only a few hundred yuan remained each month, just enough to afford food.

Recently, Wu Jia's girlfriend of four or five years had also broken up with him. The reason was simple: with Wu Jia, she saw no future. She was not afraid of hardship, but she feared unending hardship with no prospects or hope in sight. Wu Jia understood this himself; it was his own lack of ability. If he could have offered her even the faintest glimmer of hope, she would not have left.

So Wu Jia agreed to the breakup without protest.

Afterward, Wu Jia was devastated. He found nothing in this city to hold him any longer and decided to leave, to return home. Only before his departure did he realize that in all these years, he had never truly lived for himself—his existence had been a mere struggle for survival in this city.

He decided to treat himself to one memorable experience before leaving: to watch a live performance, to create one beautiful memory. By chance, he saw an ad online for “Who Is the King of Song,” and, uncharacteristically extravagant, spent a thousand yuan on a scalped ticket for a seat in the audience.

“The next song is dedicated to everyone who keeps fighting bravely on the road of life, refusing to give up,” the host announced. At these words, Wu Jia's heart thudded; once, he too had been filled with hope, dreaming of carving out a place for himself in Xingcheng. But reality was harsh—he had been battered and bruised.

“‘The Dream-Chasing Heart’—to all of you,” Zhou Ran announced.

The song began with a piano accompaniment, and from the very first lyric, Wu Jia felt something different from the previous singers. It was as if Zhou Ran was singing with a raw, crying voice—a feeling apart from the rest.

“A world filled with flowers—where is it really?
If it truly exists, then I must go.
I want to stand atop the highest peak,
Uncaring if it’s a sheer cliff.”

The opening lines, to Wu Jia, were clearly superior to the songs before. He couldn’t express this feeling in technical terms, but as he listened, he was able to immerse himself in the music.

“To live with all my strength, to love with all my strength, even if my body is broken.
I don’t strive to please anyone—only to be true to myself.
As for my dreams, I have never chosen to give up,
Even in days when I was covered in dust and dirt.”

As Zhou Ran sang this verse, Wu Jia recalled his original motivation.

A few years ago, freshly graduated from university, Wu Jia had come to Xingcheng with his girlfriend, whom he’d met in school. At the time, their living conditions were even worse than now. They couldn’t afford rent and slept in a McDonald’s, enduring the strange looks from customers. But back then, they felt no fear—only ideals, passion, and dreams of one day making it.

Once he found work, Wu Jia cherished every opportunity, taking on tasks others didn’t want, hoping one day to earn his boss’s favor. But as days passed, his dreams were slowly worn away. He lived in a haze, just getting by, and his behavior led to his girlfriend’s departure.

Today, Zhou Ran’s singing stirred memories of those old dreams, those once-bright hopes.

On stage, Zhou Ran too seemed swept up in the moment, loosening his shirt collar as he sang, pouring his heart into every note. He wanted to use this chance to vent his emotions, to remind himself of his own dreams, to press forward with courage.

“Keep running forward, braving cold stares and ridicule.
How can we know the vastness of life without hardship?
Fate cannot force us to kneel and beg for mercy,
Even if our arms are drenched in blood.”

In the audience, Bai Ning’s curiosity about Zhou Ran only deepened. At first, she had thought Zhou Ran was a naturally gifted, untroubled singer. But upon learning more, she discovered that he had once been a trainee, quietly training alone for a year.

Zhou Ran’s purpose in singing this song was to urge people not to abandon their dreams or lose their drive because of gossip or slander.

The audience was gradually drawn into the emotional world of the song. Each had their own worries, had all been disparaged before.

“Stop clinging to your so-called music dream—there’s no future in it.”
“Just give up; you’ll never surpass him.”
“Can’t you accept your fate? Stop insisting on your so-called ideals.”

Zhou Ran’s voice reignited a passion in the listeners, stirring the long-buried dreams in their hearts.

Who among us, in youth, has not dreamed of wandering the world with a sword, standing up for justice? Yet most have been forced to abandon those dreams under the crushing weight of reality.

But Zhou Ran’s song made them remember those dreams once more.

There is no easy path through life; it’s mostly hardship and misfortune. To give up is easy—but to persevere, that is true courage. Whatever the outcome, at least one can say with pride: I persisted, rather than being ashamed to admit I gave up.

The pioneers of our nation, too, once saw no future as they struggled, but they did not give up. They chose to press on, each charging forward, undaunted even by blood and wounds. It was because of such pioneers that we enjoy a better life today; because of those who face hardship bravely, beautiful legends continue to be written.

As Zhou Ran reached the final verse, he abandoned all technique and simply howled:

“Keep running, with the pride of a child’s heart.
How can life shine if you don’t see it through?
Better to burn brightly than to barely survive.
For the beauty in your heart,
Do not compromise, not even when you grow old.”

His voice broke completely on the last line, but the rawness was perfect, injecting soul into the song and perfectly conveying the feeling of giving everything in pursuit of a dream.

The audience was utterly inspired.

After Zhou Ran’s performance, Wu Jia felt his long-lost dreams reignite within him. He decided not to leave after all. He was not willing to give up. He would fight on, and he didn’t want to lose the girlfriend who had been with him for so many years. As soon as the show ended, he planned to call her—this time, he would not let her down.