Chapter 21: "The Brilliance of Chinese Talent Is Unmatched"

After Zhou Ran finished his performance, he bowed in gratitude. The audience called out in unison.

"Zhou Ran, Zhou Ran!"

"Ran shines across the world!"

"Extraordinary!"

"Go Zhou Ran!"

One female audience member even stood up and shouted loudly to Zhou Ran, "Zhou Ran, you're amazing! I really like you! Marry me!"

Her shout sent the crowd into laughter.

Zhou Ran bowed again, thanking the audience for their support.

He had chosen Xu Song’s song “A Thousand Times” with careful consideration. On one hand, the lyrics were so beautiful that, in Zhou Ran’s eyes, the song ranked among the top ten of all traditional Chinese-style songs from his previous life. Moreover, its weight was just right, guaranteed to cause a stir in the music world.

As Zhou Ran’s performance ended, the next contestants felt the pressure mounting like a mountain. Only by experiencing it firsthand could one understand how powerless it felt. With Zhou Ran setting the bar so high, the quality expectations for subsequent performances soared.

…

Time passed quickly.

Amid countless expectations, Friday arrived once more—the time for the elimination round of “Who Is the King of Singers.” The production team hyped up the show with a brand-new music gimmick before airing, sending its popularity to unprecedented heights. Their headline shot to the top of Weibo's trending list within hours.

At eight o’clock in the evening, the show finally aired. Kiwi TV’s viewership rate began to skyrocket. Within just ten minutes, viewers numbered in the millions. It was important to note that Kiwi TV’s viewership was counted strictly one-to-one—each account only counted once.

The live chat was a storm of messages. Without turning off the barrage, one could barely see the screen.

The messages varied.

“Brave Kun Kun, don’t fear difficulties, go go go!”

“Love Kun for life, never separated.”

“Looking forward to Zhou Ran’s next original song!”

“What kind of production team is this? How dare they claim a new music genre is born?”

“Of course, the kind of show determines the kind of audience. Their support for Zhou Ran is just too obvious.”

“What nonsense are you spouting? Haven’t you heard Zhou Ran’s songs? Aren’t they good?”

“Support, sister!”

The live chat was split into two camps.

One side berated the show for shamelessly chasing hype, daring to claim the birth of a new music genre. The other side consisted of fans supporting the contestants.

While messages flew chaotically across the screen, the show officially began.

The first to appear was Fujiwara Taku from Japan.

Although Fujiwara Taku’s singing was pleasant, it couldn’t stem the tide of frenetic messages.

When the next contestant, Jin Kun, took the stage, the opposition in the chat rose to a new level.

“What is this? Just reheating old leftovers?”

“Can’t you bring something different? If I wanted to hear you sing, I’d rather use a music app—the audio is better there.”

“Can’t you be original? At least Fujiwara Taku adapted his song, but you’re just singing it exactly the same as years ago—what’s the difference?”

“This production team claims to have created a new music genre? Don’t make me laugh, it’s just nonsense.”

But when Zhou Ran took the stage, the opposition subsided somewhat. Zhou Ran had performed original songs throughout the past episodes, and their quality was exceptional. He was the production team’s last trump card, instilling confidence in the supporters as soon as he appeared.

After all, Zhou Ran’s abilities were recognized by all—he couldn’t be casually criticized.

Still, the opposition didn’t disappear entirely. Their main target was the show’s hype about a new genre. If Zhou Ran simply sang another great original song, they would believe it, but the claim that he was pioneering a new genre was simply unbelievable.

As the two camps held their ground, Zhou Ran began his performance.

The moment the accompaniment started, fans with musical training instantly recognized the instruments and typed explanations for the uninitiated.

Xiao.

Flute.

Erhu.

Various traditional instruments harmonized so beautifully!

There was no need to comment on Zhou Ran’s singing—it was full of emotion, gentle and soothing. His voice blended perfectly with the music, never jarring or out of place.

But the real surprise came when they saw the lyrics. The viewers were stunned—were these lyrics in the right place? They sounded just like classical poetry.

The fusion of Zhou Ran’s lyrics and melody amazed everyone watching the broadcast.

It was a form they had never heard before, possessing the unique charm of Chinese culture. Each lyric struck deeply at the hearts of the audience.

They felt Zhou Ran’s song truly belonged to Huaguo, bearing its distinctive beauty.

It far surpassed any Korean song—and who else could write such lyrics, or combine so many instruments? This was the crystallization of thousands of years of Chinese wisdom! The partnership was seamless, a match made in heaven.

In that moment, countless young viewers realized something important.

Chinese instruments weren’t rustic at all; when paired with traditional poetry, they were profoundly beautiful. This was the priceless legacy left by their ancestors.

Every Chinese person had reason to feel proud.

After Zhou Ran’s performance, the voices of opposition vanished. They were nowhere to be found.

It seemed Zhou Ran’s performance had won them over.

Just as Zhou Ran had said, “Chinese pop is the coolest.”

Many industry professionals watching were stunned by Zhou Ran’s “A Thousand Times.” It had the rhythm of classical poetry and the appeal of modern pop.

Zhou Ran was truly remarkable, showing everyone that music could be played in ways they’d never imagined!

His performance inspired a whole generation of new composers, making them want to kneel before him in admiration.

The birth of a new music genre heralded countless new opportunities.

Zhou Ran’s performance was like a bomb detonating in the music industry—its shockwaves spreading everywhere.