Chapter 89: The Final Battle

In Zhou Miao's home, he and Hu San sat on the sofa watching the fourth round of "Ultimate Showdown," the match between Huang Chengxi and An Qi. Yet Hu San kept scrolling through her phone, her mind clearly elsewhere, weighed down by her thoughts.

Zhou Miao noticed her distraction and asked, “What’s wrong? You seem a bit off lately.”

Hu San hesitated, then finally sighed and said, “I’ve been having nightmares recently. In my dreams, you’re attacked by other celebrities’ fans—a huge crowd blocking the whole street.”

Zhou Miao laughed at that. “Do I really seem that detestable in your eyes?”

Hu San’s expression was serious. “I’m not joking. Fans like those of Hui Yuan and Lin Zekai must hate you. I’m genuinely worried that some irrational fan might try to hurt you.”

Her concern was not exaggerated. The world of fans was far from rational; when passions ran high, they could do anything. History in the entertainment industry was littered with incidents of fans attacking celebrities.

But Zhou Miao was always careful when going out, accompanied by two burly bodyguards. He never accepted water or food from fans—no one could ever truly know what lay behind a stranger’s smile.

Understanding her worry, Zhou Miao pulled her into his arms and reassured her, “Don’t worry. I’ll be extra careful.”

Hu San sighed, unsure if he was comforting her or truly meant it.

“Are you ready for next week’s finals?” she asked.

“Just about. There’s enough time left—I’ll polish it a bit more.”

Huang Chengxi was the quintessential conservatory-trained singer, a bel canto major at university, blessed with a unique voice and unrivaled high notes. He was known in the industry as the Siren of the Yellow Sea.

Yet after listening to all his songs, Zhou Miao found a problem: Huang Chengxi loved to showcase his technique and timbre, always choosing songs that suited his voice rather than adapting to the song itself. As a result, all his performances sounded much the same.

And because he focused so much on technique, he neglected emotional delivery. Especially with love songs—while pleasant, they lacked emotional depth. This was Huang Chengxi’s greatest weakness.

Zhou Miao knew he must play to his strengths and avoid direct competition in high notes. Instead, he would choose an earnest love song to strike at Huang Chengxi’s soft spot.

After days of searching his mind, Zhou Miao finally recalled a song—one full of genuine emotion, resonant, suitable for live performance, and fitting for his age.

A week later, Zhou Miao arrived at the recording site. In the corridor, he crossed paths with Huang Chengxi. Both men exchanged confident smiles as they passed each other.

Zhou Miao was studying Huang Chengxi, but Huang Chengxi was also studying him. He was well aware of his strengths: excellent technique, powerful high notes—the very things music variety shows adored.

Most viewers weren’t professionals; they simply listened for excitement. The higher the notes, the more impressive the singer seemed. His advantage was overwhelming—he hardly saw how he could lose.

At 8 p.m., the "Battle for the Forbidden City" grand finale began. Countless viewers flooded the livestream to witness this ultimate showdown. The winner would be crowned the undisputed King of the New Generation.

On the support leaderboard, Zhou Miao led by a small margin—about sixty-forty.

A coin toss decided the order, and Huang Chengxi took the stage first.

Tonight, he would perform “Midnight,” regarded as one of the most challenging songs in the history of Chinese pop. Its high notes left many singers not only unable to perform it, but even intimidated just by listening—soaring, difficult, daunting!

From his very first note, Huang Chengxi electrified the crowd. His key was even higher than the original.

“Midnight” tells the story of someone walking alone at night, scaring themselves, shrieking all the way—a tale both eerie and oddly humorous.

In Huang Chengxi’s rendition, the song regained its unique allure after more than two decades. His high notes were brighter and clearer than ever, piercing the roof as if without limit.

Even Zhou Miao had to admit, “Impressive!”

Wave after wave of high notes swept the audience to the peak of emotion, leaving them breathless until the song ended and they finally exhaled in awe. It was truly stunning.

After singing, Huang Chengxi’s back was drenched with sweat. He gasped for air, his head spinning slightly. He had given his all; he couldn’t have repeated that performance.

Now it was Zhou Miao’s turn. A black grand piano was moved to center stage, sparking anticipation in the crowd—would he sing and play?

Sitting upright at the piano, Zhou Miao took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

He held that stillness for several seconds. Just as the audience began to wonder what he was doing, he opened his eyes, and the piano’s notes began to flow.

The pure piano solo introduction was simple yet profound—majestic, flowing, tinged with melancholy. The melody calmed the minds of listeners still reeling from the previous onslaught of high notes.

Completely absorbed in the song’s world, Zhou Miao began to sing softly:

“Once, by chance, they fell in love
In an era without hesitation
Thinking they understood
So they loved recklessly
Two hands held tight, unwilling to let go
With stubborn hearts and a future ahead
Unable to forget your love
But the ending could not be changed
I couldn’t make you stay
Nor, like him, give you the future you hoped for

Childish boy
Wu~wu~wu~”

There were no ornate lyrics, no dazzling high notes. Zhou Miao was a storyteller, gently recounting the tale.

The song’s emotion was restrained, the heartbreak recounted lightly—restraint that made it all the more poignant.

With a thousand words in his heart, none escaped his lips. This emotion called regret seized the listeners’ hearts. Such simple lines evoked a torrent of memories.

“Thinking of you, just now
Thinking of you whenever I wander
All regrets are not for the future
All love eventually can’t escape
The pain of goodbye
No need to start over
Now I only wish the pain would come quickly
For there’s no going back
Wu~wu~wu~”

This was a song that left the heart heavy, the kind you wanted to hear again and again. Anyone who had ever tasted regret could find themselves in it.

The long piano solo at the end gave the song its soul, transforming unspoken words into dancing notes, releasing every repressed feeling in that moment, leaving the audience utterly entranced.

When the final note faded, the hall did not erupt in thunderous applause as it had for Huang Chengxi. Instead, there was a brief, profound silence. Many eyes were red.

No one knew who first began to clap. Soon, applause spread, growing louder and louder, rolling on without end.

The applause pulled Zhou Miao from the song’s world back to reality. He stood and bowed gently to the audience.

Huang Chengxi returned to the stage as well. Now, the final scores for both contestants in the "Battle for the Forbidden City" finals would be revealed. The new King of the New Generation was about to be crowned.