Chapter Fifty-Seven: "Fairy"

Lin Ze and Su Zitan arrived at the theater.

Today, the team in charge of filming and broadcasting was sent by Sichuan TV. For a county-level arts troupe, the entire province of Sichuan was giving this event considerable attention.

As soon as Lin Ze and Su Zitan stepped into the lounge, there was a knock at the door—a staff member had arrived.

“Hello, are you the Guardians of the Village band?” the staff member asked politely.

“Yes!” Lin Ze replied, ushering the person in.

“There’s something we didn’t notify you about in advance, and I apologize for that,” the staff member said, a little embarrassed. “The scoring format for the finals will change. The previous judges all admitted they weren’t up to the task and resigned.”

“So we’ve switched to a real-name online voting system, which should help prevent malicious vote rigging.”

“That’s not bad—it’ll also keep the judges from being bribed,” Lin Ze nodded, satisfied.

The staff member was momentarily speechless. “Later, please send a representative backstage to draw lots for the performance order.”

After the staff member left, everyone in the room exchanged glances.

“You should go, Xiao Lin,” Old Wang said.

“We won’t go. After all, this is a troupe, not just your band. When I go solo in the future, I’ll still have to answer to you and Aunt Tian.”

Even though Lin Ze had opened his own studio, he couldn’t just recruit two veteran troupes under his wing, could he? With so many elderly performers, who could possibly keep up with all the commercial gigs?

“Uncle Wang, you and Aunt Tian should go. There are only two rounds—it’s all on you.”

Old Wang, seeing Lin Ze and Su Zitan exchanging mischievous glances, blushed and turned away.

Old Wang and Tian Hui went to the front, where the live broadcast was already rolling. Facing the camera made them a bit nervous.

Old Wang drew first, Tian Hui second.

Old Wang, empty-handed and a bit shaky, stepped up to the camera, with Tian Hui offering comfort by his side.

“It’s just drawing a number, why are you shaking so much?”

“…I’m nervous.”

Old Wang’s hands trembled as he picked a numbered ball and peered at it.

“Number one.”

“Oh no!” Old Wang slapped his forehead.

He had drawn the same ball as in the previous round, meaning they would perform the very first song of the entire competition.

What a blunder! At the start, everyone’s emotions were still warming up. Singing the first song at this point was a real disadvantage.

Tian Hui drew from the other box—the number for the second half.

Four!

So, that meant the first song and the eighth song?

The eighth slot wasn’t bad—it was the closest to the voting, so the audience would have the freshest impression as voting began.

With both the best and worst numbers in hand, the two returned to the lounge.

Lin Ze was getting his makeup done when he saw Old Wang come in, looking dejected as he held the number one ball.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. We’re playing rock—are you really worried about not getting the crowd hyped?”

The uncles and aunts in the lounge were all dressed in the bizarre costumes Lin Ze had prepared. Some wore long shawls with ridiculously oversized sleeves.

Others sported detachable collars with capes trailing behind.

A whole hodge-podge of outlandish outfits, now adorning the uncles and aunts.

The children were even more outlandish—one wore a padded jacket with shorts, another was decked out in feathers like a giant bird.

Lin Ze’s own getup was no less outrageous: bright red lips, eyeshadow smeared all the way to his temples, a red dot in the center of his forehead.

His hair was slicked back in an enormous pompadour with mousse.

He wore something that looked like a giant mop—scraps of tattered fabric sewn into a makeshift costume.

Su Zitan watched with a bemused expression, but it all seemed rather fun.

As Lin Ze finished his makeup, Su Zitan snapped several photos.

Lin Ze, lips painted bright red, planted a kiss on Su Zitan’s cheek, leaving a lipstick mark.

On TV, the host’s introduction was already underway—their group was up next.

“Let’s go!”

Just as Lin Ze opened the door, he came face-to-face with Li Xiangyu.

“Lin—”

Li Xiangyu swallowed the last syllable.

Lin Ze shot him a glance, then led his motley crew of elderly performers out the door.

Li Xiangyu, awed by the group’s overwhelming aura, pressed himself against the wall as the old men and women followed Lin Ze backstage, each casting Li Xiangyu a sidelong look.

When the group had passed, Li Xiangyu stared after them, a little anxious.

“What in the world is going on?”

Backstage, the smoke machines on stage were already set up. Once they stepped onstage, the clouds of smoke could be unleashed.

“Ladies and gentlemen, here’s a singer whose songs occupy the top five spots on the new song chart. But today, for the first time, he’ll be performing rock—something he’s never done before. Are you excited?”

The host paused three seconds, then, hearing the cheers, continued.

“Please welcome, our first group: The Guardians of the Village!”

Lin Ze gripped his guitar, with the uncles and aunts behind him holding both traditional and Western instruments.

As the host walked offstage and caught sight of Lin Ze’s group, even his hands trembled.

What on earth was this…

The stage lights suddenly dimmed, and Lin Ze and his troupe stepped onto the stage.

“Lin Ze! Lin Ze! Lin Ze!”

“Guardians of the Village! Guardians of the Village! Guardians of the Village!”

The uncles and aunts set up their instruments. Once everything was ready, Lin Ze stepped forward, a beam of light illuminating him from above.

The moment Lin Ze appeared, all previous cheers ceased.

A hush fell. Everyone was baffled.

Lin Ze leaned into the microphone.

The sound of heavy breathing echoed through the speakers.

“Brother, what’s the point of playing rock anyway?”

“Thump, thump…”

“Thump, thump…”

The instruments behind him began to play.

“Hey…ya!”

“Hey…ya!”

One by one, the instruments joined in.

On the big screen behind them, the title appeared: “The Immortal.”

The audience, still stunned, stared at the stage, their hearts quickening with the music.

This prelude… was intriguing!

“If the east isn’t bright, the west will shine; under the setting sun, I bask in sorrow.”

“Nothing to do last night, busy tonight; my golden dreams turn to dust.”

“Spring rain can’t reach a kindred ghost, autumn chills pierce the hearts of the passionate.”

“Thinking of heaven, earth, and myself; gazing at mountains and rivers, I look to the dawn!”

With his crimson lips, Lin Ze’s voice summoned everyone’s spirit back to the stage.

The mood soared in an instant. For reasons unknown, it was the first time anyone had heard rock like this.

How strange!

But—

How exhilarating!