Chapter 81: The Trailer Goes Live

Not only did Zhao Li need to practice his vocal techniques, but Zhou Miao himself had also been honing his skills lately. "Battle at the Forbidden Peak" was a true test of live singing abilities. Although his own singing was impressive, Zhou Miao dared not become complacent—after all, Lin Zekai had been the lead vocalist in his group during his time in Korea, and his talent was not to be underestimated.

Half a month later, the official guest list for "Battle at the Forbidden Peak" was released. The eight participants were Zhou Miao, Lin Zekai, Hui Yuan, Huang Chengxi, Ning Xia, An Qi, Li Hongzhi, and Guan Wenhui. These eight could easily be called the hottest stars of the past three years.

Now, all eight were coming together for a single show. It was beyond grand—it was extravagance without bounds!

Fans jokingly dubbed "Battle at the Forbidden Peak" as "Top Star Showdown." The moment the invitation list was made public, Weibo nearly crashed under the weight of excited fans, discussions raging everywhere about who would emerge victorious.

On the Mao Pu poll, Zhou Miao’s vote count far surpassed the other singers. Among the diehard fans, the consensus was that, in terms of musical achievements, the combined works of the other seven barely measured up to Zhou Miao’s alone.

Yet, many held different opinions. After all, this show was not just about musical works—it also tested singing ability and stage presence, a comprehensive assessment. In these areas, Zhou Miao wasn’t necessarily the standout.

When Hui Yuan saw the list, he felt a headache coming. Zhou Miao was also on the show? The production team was clearly stirring things up—everyone knew the two were not on good terms.

He saw through their intentions: they wanted to use this tension to fuel hype. Damn those capitalist producers!

Lin Zekai glanced at the list and smiled, posting on Weibo: "In Korea, I trained through terrifying competition among hundreds. Live performance? Stage presence? I’ve never been afraid of anyone!"

With Lin Zekai throwing down the gauntlet, the other guests couldn’t sit still—they all posted declarations, each more audacious and confident than the last, riling up the online community.

But what everyone anticipated most was Zhou Miao’s response—famous for his fiery temperament, how would he react?

Urged on by countless spectators, Zhou Miao finally updated his Weibo.

"Sorry, just a quick ad," he wrote.

Accompanying the message was a video. Netizens were floored—at a moment like this, he was promoting something? Classic Zhou Miao!

Curious, they watched to see what he was advertising. With Zhou Miao, no matter what antics he pulled, it always seemed par for the course.

The video began, revealing stunning animation scenes. Viewers were amazed—is this an animated film? The art style was exquisite!

Then Zhou Miao’s voice rang out: "Moonlight hue, fragrance of a woman..." He was singing the theme song for the animation! Fans were instantly thrilled—Zhou Miao hadn’t released new music in a while, so they quickly turned up the volume to listen closely.

To their delight, Zhou Miao had taken another bold step in his musical exploration. This song was clearly in the popular ancient-style genre, but both the lyrics and composition of "Moonlight" left all other songs of its kind far behind.

Ordinary fans couldn’t quite articulate what made it superior—they just felt the melody was beautiful, the lyrics enchanting, and the whole track rich with flavor. As the theme for an animated film, it fit perfectly with the visuals in the trailer, sparking new anticipation for the movie itself.

What an unexpected treat during this period of idle speculation! Netizens felt they’d struck gold, but they still pressed Zhou Miao to make a bold statement.

Zhou Miao replied, "Bold words? Not necessary. When the show begins, they’ll learn what true cruelty is!"

"Mm-hmm, pretending I didn’t see the last half of that sentence."
"Production team, hurry up! I can’t wait to see Miao blow everyone away!"
"The other pretty boys are done for—Miao might show up wielding nunchucks!"
...

That evening, the official account for "Battle at the Forbidden Peak" announced the competition format. There would be five rounds in total. The first round was a free performance, scored jointly by judges, media, and live audience. The first, third, fifth, and seventh place scorers would form Group A; second, fourth, sixth, and eighth would form Group B.

The second round was a group draw duel, where each singer could invite a guest performer; the winner would earn one point.

The third round was a knockout, narrowing eight contestants to four. Each group would draw for matchups and themes, performing accordingly. Winners would earn a point, and the two highest scorers from each group would advance, while the rest would be eliminated.

The fourth round was the semifinals, reducing four to two, deciding the ultimate winners from Groups A and B, who would face off in the final round for the title of New Generation King of Singers!

Apart from preparation time, the competition would be broadcast live throughout, assuring fairness and transparency.

In truth, the show itself wasn’t particularly innovative—it was little different from programs like "Singer." The only distinction was the caliber of the guests: every top idol was present, drawing the gaze of the entire internet.

Normally, these stars would never appear together in the same variety show, but the production company’s offer was simply too tempting. For Zhou Miao alone, they paid fifty million for a month’s work; the others likely received similar amounts.

Netizens didn’t know the exact figures, but guessed the production costs must be astronomical, wondering if it was even possible to recoup them.

Yet the company, ever resourceful, had already made back their investment through sponsorships and advertising before the show aired. From here on, it was pure profit!

Thanks to the immense popularity of the eight guests, the show’s attention exploded before it even began. The production team worked overtime, determined to bring the program to audiences as soon as possible.

Two weeks later, preparations were complete. All eight top stars gathered in the studio!

Backstage, Lin Zekai and Huang Chengxi were chatting when Zhou Miao entered, dressed in jeans and a simple plaid shirt.

Lin Zekai stepped forward, hand outstretched. "Nice to meet you—Lin Zekai."

Zhou Miao glanced at the nearby camera, shook his hand lightly. "Zhou Miao."

Just as Lin Zekai was about to speak, he felt a sudden, crushing grip on his hand—the pain turning his face purple as he cried out on the spot.

All eyes turned toward them. Surely not—such drama right from the first meeting?

Zhou Miao looked at him, puzzled, then burst out laughing and slapped his arm. "Brother, you really know how to act. I almost thought I’d actually hurt you."

So it was Lin Zekai clowning around. The other guests, seeing this, went about their own business.

Lin Zekai’s face darkened—he really had been hurt by Zhou Miao’s grip, but Zhou Miao played it off as if he’d nearly been fooled by Lin’s acting, leaving Lin unable to protest. He could only swallow his annoyance.

Just wait and see!