Chapter 115: Everyone Else Is a Clumsy Imitation

The show officially began.

Contestants were to take the stage by drawing lots, as this ensured the highest degree of fairness. Although, to some extent, the program itself was inherently unfair, the production team’s goal was to balance the scales of justice as much as possible within that framework.

There were four groups in total. Originally, there should have been five, but since Chen Fang and Wang Situ were two contestants teaming up, one group was missing. Chen Fang and Wang Situ were the third to take the stage. Interestingly, Zheng Wenyan and Qiao Yuezhu were the final act. Protagonists always save the best for last. Clearly, the drawing of lots behind the scenes was not entirely random.

The theme of the show was to commemorate history, and all entries had to be original. For the audience, this brought a sense of immense freshness, as every song they were about to hear would be a melody entirely new to their ears.

The first group took the stage. Chen Fang remembered the contestant: Duke. He was accustomed to wearing thick, black-rimmed glasses, and his instrument of choice was the guitar. He possessed a distinct folk-music vibe; before Duke even opened his mouth, just by standing there and adjusting his glasses, one could easily conjure an image of Zhao Lei. Of course, Duke was essentially the bespectacled version of Zhao Lei.

Teaming up with Duke was a third-tier singer. Duke played the guitar while the other played the piano. Their coordination was seamless; it was clear they had practiced extensively during the preparation period. After the performance, one could only say there were highlights as well as flaws. The highlight was that Duke and his partner had successfully fused folk, traditional Chinese styles, and simple R&B rap into the composition—a significant test for any arrangement, but they had pulled it off. The flaw, however, was equally obvious: Duke’s presence felt somewhat diminished. In a song lasting about three minutes, Duke sang fewer than ten lines of lyrics, playing the role of a mere guitar accompanist for the majority of the time, to the point where one might say he was dispensable.

This program was essentially a stage for the contestants to shine. The contestants were the priority. If a celebrity simply wanted to revitalize their career or boost their popularity, they would be better off participating in *The Masked Singer*, a show more suited for established artists. In the end, Duke’s group scored only 92.08 points.

The second group took the stage: Dong Fen. Dong Fen was fortunate enough to have a "Little Diva" team up with him. A Little Diva carried far more weight than a third-tier singer, and she held a distinct advantage in both fan base and stage presence. However, it seemed his theme had drifted off course. The prompt required a commemoration of history, but the song Dong Fen and the Little Diva created leaned heavily toward a romantic duet. Of course, it still had some tenuous connection to history. Dong Fen’s group ended up with a score significantly higher than Duke’s, exceeding 95 points and reaching 96.23. By comparison, Duke’s group was truly unlucky. If nothing unexpected happened, they would finish in last place.

In the backstage lounge, Chen Fang stood up, and Wang Situ followed suit. Wang Situ was already tall, and now, wearing white high heels, she gained even more height, appearing slightly taller than Chen Fang.

"Tonight, you are the protagonist," Chen Fang said with a smile, extending his hand. Wang Situ placed her palm gently into his, and they walked out of the lounge. Chen Fang supported her hand—not holding hands in an intimate way, but in the customary etiquette of partners heading to the stage.

The spotlight converged. All eyes were focused on them! Chen Fang wore a black casual suit, as deep and captivating as the night; Wang Situ wore a fitted white cheongsam, paired with the ultimate leg-lengthening神器—high heels. She shone like the daylight, piercing everyone’s vision, making it impossible to look away. One black, one white; one tension, one relaxation. Chen Fang’s role was merely to provide the buildup before the arrival of the light.

Countless people watched as Chen Fang and Wang Situ walked onto the stage together. At that moment, they looked exceptionally well-matched, making even the fans who shipped Chen Fang and An Tinghan begin to mutter to themselves: it seems Chen Fang looks good with every female artist he is paired with.

...

In the hospital ward, Wang Jiawei’s expression suddenly grew agitated; his hands began to grip the bedsheets tightly. The nurse looked at Wang Situ on the television, lost in thought, before suddenly realizing: "I was wondering why this young woman looked so familiar. She’s your daughter! She comes to the hospital often; I’ve seen her a few times."

No wonder! Wang Jiawei, usually quiet, had insisted on watching TV today. As it turned out, his daughter was on television.

"That girl is so pretty."
"Stunning, and she looks like a star, too."
"She’s so tall; the boy standing next to her is even a head shorter."
The patients’ families chatted among themselves.

"Aren’t celebrities all very rich? Why would she let her father stay in this kind of ward?"
"I see other rich people get their own private rooms—what do they call them? VIP wards."
"Not all celebrities make money; some even lose money."
"Not just lose money, they lose their health too..."

These words were grating. The nurse felt awkward; if she had known, she wouldn't have said that earlier. She glanced at Wang Jiawei and found that he hadn't paid any attention to the others' comments. His eyes were fixed on Wang Situ on the screen, filled with joy and pride. Seeing this, the nurse felt slightly relieved.

"My... daughter... sings... very... well."

Wang Jiawei’s words were intermittent, but they were clear. Unavoidably, everyone in the ward began to feel a sense of anticipation.

Back on stage, Chen Fang and Wang Situ reached the center, bowed slightly to the judges, and without any unnecessary small talk, the crisp sound of a snare drum began to play, followed immediately by the melodious notes of a flute.

The large screen on stage displayed the song title: *Madam Shexiang*.
Vocals: Wang Situ, Chen Fang.
Lyrics: Chen Fang.
Arrangement: Chen Fang.
Composition: Chen Fang.
Orchestration: Chen Fang, Future Stardom Orchestra.

As expected! It was another original song by Chen Fang. And by the looks of it, it was a project Chen Fang had taken on entirely himself, from creation to accompaniment, all handled by him. Wang Situ’s name appeared only in the vocalists' column.

"Wang Situ has it so easy; she doesn't need to participate in the creative process at all."
"With Chen Fang around, all she has to do is sing."
"That’s too easy, isn't it? Any female singer could have done that."
"I envy Wang Situ."
"This is the benefit of having a master songwriter by your side."
"The intro has that familiar flavor, that signature Chen Fang style—the combination of modern and traditional instruments, the snare drum and the flute, it doesn't clash at all."

It could be said that only songs created by Chen Fang could feel so natural. This was a result of his unique creative style and his ultimate grasp of musicality. It belonged to Chen Fang alone! Other musicians couldn't imitate it. Previously, when *Blue and White Porcelain* became a massive hit, the internet was flooded with similar "national style" songs, but none took off. This proved to everyone: people might imitate my face, and people might imitate my style, but they can never imitate my essence.