CHAPTER 72: CHAPTER 68: ACCIDENT?!

"Unbeknownst to many, the show had already reached its fifth episode. Out of the nine original singers, only seven remained. After ample preparation, all the singers were now on standby, ready for battle. So let’s welcome today’s first competing singer!"

"Who is he? ..."

Chu Tian sat on the sofa in the lounge. He’d put his sunglasses on again at some point, though he wasn’t sure when.

It’s not that he likes to show off, but ever since he had crossed over, he consciously hid himself, and he particularly disliked his image appearing on any camera.

He always felt that once exposed, he’d be incessantly photographed by countless media paparazzi.

Of course, these were just illusions – who would bother photographing him, a nameless nobody?

But he still felt more natural wearing sunglasses. If it weren’t for fear of being too conspicuous, he’d have loved to wear a hat and a mask as well.

Listening to the host’s voice coming from the lounge screen, he wished he could press fast forward.

He didn’t know what these show organizers were thinking, dragging out what should have been a straightforward matter to keep everyone in suspense.

Wouldn’t it be simpler to just announce who’s going to sing next? Why tire the audience by making them guess?

It wasn’t just him. The audience members below were probably itching to rush onto the stage and throttle the host. He was so damn annoying, always keeping people on tenterhooks.

This segment had become the most criticized part of the show online, yet the production team perversely seemed to enjoy it.

Fortunately, there wasn’t much time, so the host couldn’t delay indefinitely. As the lights dimmed, the first singer stood on the lift platform, slowly ascending.

It was none other than Qin Xiao, whom he had met earlier.

As Chu Tian watched Qin Xiao writhe to the intense music on stage, two very soft words unexpectedly broke the silence of the lounge.

"Mediocre..."

It wasn’t clear whether he was talking about the performance or the person.

Others might not have heard it, but Xu Qingqiu, sitting right beside him, heard it very clearly. She pursed her lips, tilted her head slightly, shot Chu Tian a fierce glare, and whispered,

"We’re recording the show, don’t talk nonsense!"

Although she was secretly pleased, he really shouldn’t be so blunt. What if it got recorded and broadcast? Wouldn’t that provoke another controversy?

Chu Tian wasn’t foolish. His voice, a mere breathy whisper, couldn’t carry far anyway; only Xu Qingqiu beside him could hear it.

His comment was meant for Xu Qingqiu. Ostensibly, he was criticizing the singing as mediocre. Subtextually, however, he was implying that, barring any surprises, Qin Xiao’s score likely wouldn’t be high, and he might even be eliminated that day.

It was just that the occasion wasn’t appropriate, which was why he’d only uttered those two words.

Soon, Qin Xiao, who had been twisting on stage as if his waist might snap, finished his performance. The host then prattled on for some time before the second singer took the stage.

"Let’s go, it’s our turn to get ready."

Xu Qingqiu was the third singer. This was a decent spot—the middle position, often considered the easiest in which to excel.

Just then, a staff member came to inform them that they should tidy up their clothes and makeup and proceed to the backstage area to wait.

According to the stage design, everyone would make their entrance via the lifting platform, and Xu Qingqiu was no exception.

"Sister Zhu Yan, you sang wonderfully!"

"Haha, really? Oh, I’m exhausted! You go for it, sing well!"

"Okay, Sister Zhu Yan, thank you."

"Don’t be so formal, just do your best!"

Two singers had already been eliminated: Jin Yuzhen, a young singer who seemed to be there just to make up numbers, and Wu Qingshan, a veteran whose old-fashioned songs hadn’t resonated with the audience, leading to a rather surprising exit.

The most formidable contenders now were Guan Che and Zhu Yan, both titans in the field.

Xu Qingqiu was next on stage after her. It would be a lie to say she felt no pressure. Fortunately, Zhu Yan seemed to have a good impression of her, as a younger singer, and offered a few words of sincere encouragement, which helped Xu Qingqiu relax considerably.

"You guys go outside and wait for me, there’s no need to crowd around here."

The operating space around the lifting platform was small, and with so many staff members, assistants usually didn’t accompany the artists right up to it.

Chu Tian and Yiyi didn’t say much. Seeing Xu Qingqiu standing on the lifting platform with staff assisting her, they retreated to the side of the stage to watch from the wings.

Not only was the view clearer from there, but a large screen also showed the front-facing camera angle. It had been installed when they previously used the side entrance, giving them a uniquely advantageous viewpoint.

Because the show’s rules stipulated she couldn’t perform another new song, this time she sang an adapted version of the classic love song, "Moonlit Que Shazhou."

Xu Qingqiu’s voice, it had to be said, easily conjured vivid imagery; it was ethereal and pure, like a voice singing solo in the night. Her soft crooning and low hums resonated with emotion. While the rhythm wasn’t particularly upbeat, the feeling was potent enough to move hearts and draw listeners in. Jiang Shangqiu’s arrangement further amplified this by incorporating many modern elements, and the repetitive, catchy chorus had an almost hypnotic quality.

Indeed, judging by the live audience’s reaction, the song’s adaptation was a resounding success, electrifying the atmosphere.

In Chu Tian’s opinion, at least, the impact was far superior to Qin Xiao’s performance.

As the song concluded, most of the lights dimmed. Xu Qingqiu stood on the lifting platform, happily waving to the audience as she slowly descended.

Chu Tian and Yiyi were also planning to meet Xu Qingqiu below the stage.

Just as they turned, Chu Tian caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye: Xu Qingqiu wobbled, and then her entire figure vanished into the opening in the stage.

Viewed from the front, it might have looked as if the platform had simply lowered. But Chu Tian was watching from the side and slightly behind. Having been on countless lifting platforms in his past life, he knew instantly this wasn’t a normal descent. It was too fast, as if she had suddenly dropped or squatted.

Such a thing could only mean one of two scenarios: either the person had stumbled or missed their footing and fallen, or the platform itself had collapsed!

But he had clearly seen Xu Qingqiu standing perfectly still on the lifting platform; performers were repeatedly warned never to move on it.

The only possibility was...

He dared not let his thoughts venture further. Beside him, Yiyi, still oblivious, was happily preparing to greet her Sister Qiu.

Chu Tian didn’t know why, but a fire seemed to ignite and threaten to explode within him!

He abruptly pushed Yiyi aside and sprinted madly towards the access point for the lifting platform.

"Chu Tian! What are you doing?"

How could Chu Tian possibly pay her any mind? At that moment, he wished he could teleport instantly beneath the lifting platform. The distance of mere dozens of meters felt as vast and insurmountable as a celestial chasm.

Whether it was out of concern for an employee, his duty as a friend of his body’s previous owner, or that subtle, inexplicable feeling stirring in his heart, he absolutely could not allow anything to happen to Xu Qingqiu!

The thought of celebrities from his past life who had fallen from stages, suffering severe injuries or even death, made his eyes turn unconsciously bloodshot.

"Excuse me!"

"Excuse me, please!"

"Sorry!"

He shoved his way through the throng of staff, rushing like a madman towards the lifting platform area. Pushing open the door, he saw all the personnel clustered around the platform; some were on their phones, others were scrambling to get out.

Heedless of everything, he violently shoved aside anyone in his path. Finally, as he squeezed through the crowd, he saw her: Xu Qingqiu lay on the ground, blood pooling beneath her head and legs.

His mind buzzed, and instantly went blank.