老司机试看午夜

After her brief dance performance, Lin Qingyan returned to her seat.

The atmosphere in the venue had heightened.

[Qingyan, Qingyan!]

[See? When compared, Si Fuqing is nothing next to Lin Qingyan.] [Without a comparison, there is no harm. ]

[To be honest, Si Fuqing should just quietly be a pretty vase.]

“Teacher Si, don’t you want to perform something to boost the morale of the trainees?” Lin Qingyan finally saw her chance and smirked, “The fans are really looking forward to it.”

“Why should I, as a mentor, put on a show?” Si Fuqing crossed her arms and tilted her head, “If Teacher Lin likes to do so, go ahead. Don’t involve me. After all, I don’t possess Teacher Lin’s incredible skills.” Lin Qingyan’s face stiffened, turning green once again.

Sweat trickled down the host’s forehead.

He just prayed that the initiator of the group would return soon, so he could be spared from this unforeseen calamity.

Mu Ye clenched his jaw and spoke up again, “Teacher Si, could it be that you really don’t dare?”

“Slam.”

The microphone was slammed down onto the table.

Si Fuqing lifted her head, her gaze icy.

Mu Ye’s heart skipped a beat. Sweat broke out on his palms, and his body began to tremble.

If it wasn’t for Tianle Media’s strong insistence, he wouldn’t have wanted to face off with Si Fuqing again.

Si Fuqing shifted her gaze to the audience and flashed a smile, “Does everyone want to see?”

The fans got excited.

“Just a simple performance from Teacher Si will do!”

“Alright,” Si Fuqing stood up, walking towards the stage at a leisurely pace, “Then let’s have a casual performance.”

The director, who had been paying close attention, finally breathed a sigh of relief. “Quick, focus the cameras!”

All the cameras simultaneously zoomed in on Si Fuqing.

“This performance is for my fans. I hope certain people know their place and don’t think too highly of themselves,” Si Fuqing tossed the microphone in her hand aside. “Backstage, play the music I just sent over.” Backstage, a staff member was taken aback.

He hurriedly checked his messages and found an mp4 file.

“What song is this…” the staff member muttered to himself as he clicked to receive the file.

Once successfully downloaded, the music began to play.

The beat of the drum echoed, followed by an instrumental prelude that filled the venue. It flowed like a quiet stream in the mountains, carrying an indescribable sense of melancholic yearning.

The atmosphere in the venue settled into a hushed anticipation. Pei Mengzhi, intently watching the stage, suddenly felt a nudge.

“Move aside,” a cold voice demanded.

“Aren’t you not coming, Yu Yao? What brings you here?” Pei Mengzhi looked

up, surprised to see Yu Yao. “Ah, good timing, Si Fuqing is about to perform. Take a look.”

“She’s performing?” Yu Yao loosened his tie and sat down. “Isn’t she a mentor?”

“A trainee challenged her. She can’t really decline without losing face,” Pei Mengzhi shook his head. “I just hope it won’t be too embarrassing.” Yu Yao frowned.

Si Fuqing’s previous performances were nothing short of disastrous. Her singing was off-pitch, and even her rapping couldn’t keep up with the beat.

And her dancing? Her limps were completely uncoordinated.

What could she possibly perform?

For a moment, Yu Yao regretted coming.

He pursed his lips, stood up again, and began to walk away.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Pei Mengzhi called out to him. “Where are you going?

“I’ll come back in after her performance,” Yu Yao said without turning back.

“There’s nothing worth watching in her performance.”

Pei Mengzhi shrugged. “Alright then.”

He was actually quite looking forward to it.

On the stage.

“I recently learned a new song, so I thought I’d give it a try for everyone,” Si Fuqing twirled the microphone in her hand and raised an eyebrow with a smile. “Coincidentally, it’s a song from one of our trainee groups, so I’ll test it out for them.”

“As everyone knows, I’m really not good at singing or dancing. So, when it’s this group’s turn to perform, their stage presence will undoubtedly surpass mine, right?”

Everyone was momentarily stunned.

Back in the preparation room, Lu Yan suddenly had a bad feeling. He held his breath and fixed his gaze on the screen.

Could it be that Si Fuqing was going to perform “Mountain Ghost Ballard”?

Opera was not a genre anyone can just dabble in.

Forcing it would only result in parody. With that in mind, Lu Yan’s heart lightened a bit.

“Boom!”

Suddenly, the drumbeats intensified, and a languid yet assertive voice filled the air.

“Three thousand dreams of worldly affairs, Rolling through yet another spring,

Only a solitary shadow remains.”

The high-pitched voice instantly dominated the room.

Opera?

The fans couldn’t react in time.

Yu Yao stopped in his tracks, abruptly turning back. His pupils constricted.

On the big screen, Si Fuqing walked to the center of the stage.

She didn’t dance, but those simple steps were enough to hold everyone’s gaze.

She was a born stage queen, a radiant entity outshining even the stars.

Her fox-like eyes curved up, hinting at a smile.

It was as if beams of light fell into her eyes, stirring a galaxy of emotions.

She looked directly into the camera, as if making eye contact with everyone.

The subtle makeup only amplified her beauty, completely captivating.

The fans went wild.

Yu Yao couldn’t move. He remained transfixed.

The venue fell into complete silence.

“Boom!”

The next second, the music intensified again, the notes soaring even higher.

“Thump, thump—”

Yu Tang could clearly hear her own heartbeat. She clenched her fists, anxiety flooding her.

Though she didn’t recognize the song, even as a layman, she could sense its complexity.

She had to nail it!

The audience was now completely silent, everyone’s eyes fixed on the young woman on stage, not daring to blink.

With a relaxed expression and a casual smile, Si Fuqing lightly touched her lips and began singing again, “You say life and death don’t matter, yet I can’t see you turn away—”

It was still opera.

The genre was inherently high-pitched, but this line soared all the way to an

A6, a range only soprano singers could reach.

Forget idols; even some accomplished singers would struggle to hit that note.

But Si Fuqing stood there, nonchalant, effortlessly hitting the note.

Clearly, the height of this pitch was but a trifle for her, nowhere near her limit.

At that moment, the entire audience was stunned, staring bewilderedly at the woman at the center of the stage.

After the high note, the music once again slowed down.

This time, the audience recognized the familiar tune.

Finally, someone reacted.

The bullet screen exploded, text enlarged, bold, and glaringly conspicuous.

A torrent of messages, a frenzy of comments!

“AH AH AH AH, SAVE ME! This woman, she’s singing the original version of

‘Mountain Ghost Ballard’!”