CHAPTER 124: CHAPTER 121 UNDERSTANDING EVERYTHING

"Yuwei, are you thinking about what happened with Penguin’s camera today?" A voice as cool and clear as the night spoke from behind her.

"...Yes!" Yuwei nodded, offering up half of her confusion.

"The reason Penguin edited it that way is that they want you all to bring traffic to the show but don’t want anyone to create a gap in strength among contestants."

Chen Yinghan walked slowly to the edge of the rooftop, gazing at the city that glittered like a galaxy falling into darkness.

Moonlight poured down like water, drenching her figure in an ethereal glow, making her silhouette seem still and lonely.

"A gap in strength..." Yuwei began to chew on the meaning of those words.

"Exactly, the core of competition shows is suspense. If everyone knows who the winner will be, what’s left to watch?" Chen Yinghan’s words suddenly enlightened Yuwei.

Indeed, Galaxy and Milky Way carry a massive fanbase with them. If the cameras focus too much on them, it would ruin the anticipation for the show.

"Yuwei, is there something lingering in your mind that you haven’t spoken about?" Chen Yinghan turned around. Her face, like a painting from Jiangnan poetry, was piercingly perceptive, as if she could read hearts with just her gaze.

Yuwei’s heart skipped a beat. She had never imagined that someone could truly see through her.

"Oh? Why don’t you guess what I’m still wondering about?" Yuwei, not wanting to be controlled by the other’s rhythm, began to counterattack.

"You’re wondering why you and Lu Bingbing received differing treatment in the camera focus." A trace of a smile appeared on Chen Yinghan’s lips, as if mocking her opponent.

Yuwei fell silent. This woman was terrifying.

"Penguin did this because they want to use you to undermine Galaxy."

"Chen Yinghan, don’t forget—I am a Galaxy star myself."

"Heh! Are you really a part of Galaxy?"

Chen Yinghan gave her a deep, cutting glance and coldly posed a rhetorical question.

"What do you know?" Yuwei felt as though she had no secrets left before this girl.

"Everything about you. Including how you got here and what Galaxy’s true purpose in sending you here is."

Chen Yinghan’s words felt like plunging into an icy abyss. If she knew, then Penguin certainly wouldn’t be oblivious—yet Penguin still allowed her to participate in the show.

"Galaxy’s goal was to disgust this program and protect its reputation as Huaxia’s number one girl group. But they underestimated Penguin’s power. How could Penguin allow a mouse to play sly tricks in front of a lion?"

Chen Yinghan approached Yuwei, and a faint, orchid-like scent surrounded her.

"The stark contrast in camera time between you and Lu Bingbing was Penguin’s way of safeguarding you—they still see great potential in utilizing you."

Yuwei listened, her brows furrowing before suddenly realizing the truth.

Penguin’s tactic was to make Galaxy fans believe she wasn’t being taken seriously in the show, favoring Lu Bingbing instead.

This way, Galaxy fans wouldn’t flood the comment sections with criticisms of her or expose her "skeletons in the closet."

If Penguin hadn’t done this, Galaxy fans—known for their twisted penchant for "brutalizing" idols—would surely harass her mercilessly.

They would hold back from attacking her only because it would indirectly harm Lu Bingbing.

After all, someone as "bad" and "worthless" as her being sent by Galaxy to participate could only paint Galaxy as a lousy company.

And as the representative of Galaxy, Lu Bingbing’s reputation would inevitably be questioned.

Casual viewers were oblivious to the history of Hanoi’s grudges, nor did they know Lu Bingbing’s personality.

Yuwei felt certain that if Galaxy fans tore into her, Penguin would unleash a barrage of marketing accounts to tarnish Lu Bingbing and Galaxy, while portraying her as an injured, deceived emblem of Penguin’s innocence.

Still, such tactics were self-destructive. Galaxy fans, fueled by anger, would refuse to vote.

Casual viewers would also develop a negative impression of the show, undermining the goal of utilizing the contestants to draw traffic.

Chen Yinghan studied the shifting expressions on Yuwei’s face, secretly admiring her intelligence.

She thought, despite the cunning of both Penguin and Galaxy, they might not succeed in crushing this girl completely. Perhaps she could emerge victorious.

Oblivious to Chen Yinghan’s thoughts, Yuwei remained lost in her own world:

Though Penguin’s strategy was "well-intentioned," she still gained plenty of casual fans—the light she emanated continued to overshadow Lu Bingbing.

But that no longer mattered; the second episode would air the day after tomorrow.

Even if the company wanted to use her to disrupt the show now, it would be too late.

Because her influence outside of Galaxy was zero, if they wanted to exploit her, they’d need significant public opinion campaigns to let viewers know how "awful" she was.

The only way to achieve this would be by purchasing marketing accounts and trending topics across platforms, which required advance planning and enormous financial investment.

From what she knew about her company, this wasn’t possible.

As Yuwei processed these realizations, she wanted to ask Chen Yinghan something else but found that the latter had quietly disappeared.

"Why would she help me? Could it be because of Fangxin?" Yuwei raised her eyes to the starry sky, feeling that the road to fame was fraught with peril at every turn.

The next day

The sun blanketed the earth.

In a picturesque villa, Lan Yening was practicing vocal techniques.

A woman in a flowing white dress, her long hair cascading and her demeanor elegant, was playing the piano to accompany him.

If Yuwei witnessed this scene, she would likely be too shocked for words.

Lan Yening’s voice was bold and crystalline, charged with indescribable emotion, like a call from deep within the soul.

His vocal range was broad, his breath steady and prolonged.

Only the most exceptional musicians could reach this level.

At the moment, Lan Yening was completely immersed.

The main melody began delicate and intricate, then with the piano’s cue, steadily intensified, eventually soaring to a climax.

Just when you thought he would linger at the mountaintop, his voice trickled down like a stream, smoothly transitioning to a lower register, winding through the valley like gossamer threads tangled infinitely.

Tong Jie’s ten slender, porcelain fingers danced across the piano keys like sprites, conjuring a symphony as sublime as mountain springs and flowing rivers...

Yet no matter how she varied the music, Lan Yening melded seamlessly with the melody in perfect unity.

At that moment, Tong Jie was utterly satisfied, feeling as though she had discovered a true treasure.

Lan Yening was undoubtedly a top-tier prodigy, born with a "sacred voice," with a vocal range of three and a half octaves and the ability to naturally adjust breathing to match the music, sustaining notes for over a minute.

If Zhang Shuya hadn’t told her that Lan Yening had never studied vocal music before, she would have assumed he trained in a top Western conservatory specializing in faux-soprano "sacred music."

What is a "sacred voice"? Essentially, it embodies the purity, gentleness, and finesse of boyhood vocal tones—yet with a grown man’s rich energy and immense lung capacity, delivering extraordinary resonance three times beyond the average human.

During the Middle Ages, countless boys were castrated by the church in an attempt to cultivate such talents, since only prepubescent castration preserved the quality of their vocal folds.

But those who succeeded were rare, like stars at dawn. Across the entirety of the 19th century, only one genius singer managed to conquer the ears of Europe.

This method bore eerie similarities to how Huaxia’s royal courts trained their "dan roles."

Of course, some individuals are naturally endowed with "castrato" voices, perpetually retaining a childlike quality throughout their lives.

Lan Yening was one of those extraordinary natural talents.

But having the voice alone wasn’t enough—absolute pitch was required to truly excel in singing.

What is absolute pitch? If you’ve seen the movie "The Message," you’ll know that some people are born able to distinguish between subtleties in sound imperceptible to others.

It’s said that the most gifted "sacred voice" singers can transition fluidly across 250+ tonal variations.

These tonal shifts come together to create an indescribable, transcendent musical experience.

However, it carries one major flaw: even the most advanced technology in the world cannot replicate it. Listeners can only experience it through live performances.

"Xiao Ning, your voice is truly flawless—already surpassing Russia’s Viktita." Tong Jie’s face, showing hints of aging yet still strikingly beautiful, radiated joy and admiration.

"Sister Tong, you’re praising me too much. I think there are plenty in our country who can imitate him." Lan Yening thought she was merely flattering him.

"Haha! Those imitators merely possess one octave of high tone. None of them can sing precisely within that range, nor do they achieve any tonal shifts." Tong Jie dismissed the imitators with disdain.

Lan Yening nodded, realizing she had no reason to doubt her words. After all, none of those impersonators had gained fame, proving their professional standards were lacking.