Chapter 165: Though lowly, I dare not forget to worry for my country

Chen Fang originally intended to write a few new songs for Wang Situ as well. After all, her primary profession was that of a singer, and if she went without releasing new tracks for a prolonged period, she would inevitably face public questioning.

However, since Wang Situ had gone to participate in a romance reality show, Chen Fang could take it a bit easier.

At least, for these few days, he wouldn't need to rack his brains over new songs for Wang Situ.

"And there are also the two songs for An Tinghan."

This matter had been dragged out for quite a long time.

Under normal circumstances, Chen Fang should have given all three songs to An Tinghan much earlier.

It was simply because An Tinghan hadn't urged him that Chen Fang lacked a sense of urgency in writing them.

No matter what, however, dragging it out any further would be inappropriate.

Those two songs had to be delivered to An Tinghan as soon as possible.

"Should I pull out two more songs comparable in quality to *A Wish Fulfilled*?" Chen Fang pondered to himself. Actually, given An Tinghan's vocal timbre, singing tracks akin to *The Abyss* would be exceedingly fitting. Her voice possessed an ethereal quality; while it might not be very noticeable during ordinary conversation, the moment she began to sing, that ethereal charm instantly bloomed.

To be frank, if he really were to produce two more songs matching the quality of *A Wish Fulfilled*, Chen Fang felt he would take a massive loss.

An Tinghan had paid a total of only ten million for three songs.

And as for Chen Fang himself—

The cheapest song he purchased from the system cost ten million.

If he bought expensive songs, Chen Fang felt he would suffer a devastating financial blow; yet if he bought cheap ones, their quality might fall short, and An Tinghan would look down upon them.

How awkward!

Chen Fang let out a sigh.

"Had I known, I wouldn't have bothered trying to make a profit off three songs. I should have just taken the money for *A Wish Fulfilled* and called it a day. In the future, I must stick to one-off transactions."

Forget it.

No use dwelling on it for now.

Chen Fang decided to first sing a run-through of *The Tragic Actor* in the recording studio.

The more he listened to this song, the more he adored it.

Whether it was the arrangement or the conceptual depth of the lyrics, this piece could truly be called a masterpiece blending modern style with traditional operatic vocal techniques, especially when combined with the song's creative background, which instilled in Chen Fang a profound sense of belonging.

This was a song of national grievance and patriotic hatred.

The creative background of the song was set in a wartime era.

Chen Fang had never looked up the wartime history of the country.

Yet regardless of the nation, as long as it desired development, the shadow of war would inevitably be etched into its history. Therefore, when selecting this song, Chen Fang had no worries about explaining the origin of his inspiration; he merely needed to pick out the most impressive, most heart-stirring wartime conflict in the nation's history and mold this operatic track from Earth into a form native to this world.

Of course, Chen Fang also wanted to test the effect of the Operatic Vocal Mastery Prop Card.

He had never performed traditional operatic singing before and was eager to hear what his own voice sounded like when executing those stylized vocal techniques.

Walking into the inner recording studio, Chen Fang quickly reviewed the original melody in his mind.

"Erhu."

"Flute."

"Kunqu Opera."

Chen Fang's eyes lit up.

To sing this song well, these three elements had to be mastered flawlessly.

Still, the accompaniment could wait for the moment.

Chen Fang cleared his throat.

Next, he intended to sing an a cappella version.

There was no prelude.

Yet the melody of the prelude drifted automatically through Chen Fang's mind. His thoughts emptied out, and his entire demeanor underwent a sudden, drastic transformation, as if he had been transported back to that era engulfed in the flames of war, and the place he inhabited was nothing more than a weathered stage.

Below the stage, the seats were packed with guests.

Below the stage, there was not a single soul.

What met the eye—

Was merely a group of invaders draped in human skin, slamming their ice-cold rifles onto the tables while barking in crude, awkward Mandarin for him to sing faster, greedily devouring meat stained with human blood and drinking liquor that scraped the marrow from human bones.

This sensation was surreal.

Chen Fang didn't know if it was the effect of the Operatic Vocal Mastery Card.

But he was certain of one thing—

None of the songs he had performed previously had granted him such an intense sense of immersive presence.

In an instant, Chen Fang's emotions were infected by the heroic tragedy woven into the song, and the corners of his eyes even grew slightly moist.

Chen Fang felt a twinge of regret.

His current state was simply too phenomenal.

Had he known, he should have prepared more thoroughly and gone straight into recording.

Otherwise, when he wanted to begin formal recording later, he wasn't sure if he could recapture this exact emotion and state of mind.

Things having reached this point, however, Chen Fang only felt a fleeting trace of regret before focusing his mind entirely on the music.

For a singer, being able to plunge heart and soul into a song, to the extent of profoundly experiencing the emotions within it—much like an epiphany in a fantasy novel—was an exceptional state that could only be met by chance and never sought by design.

For now, finishing this song was of the utmost importance.

Chen Fang lowered his head slightly.

Before him, the microphone stood a mere five centimeters from his lips.

*◤A fold of opera, water-sleeve rising and falling,*
*Singing of sorrow and joy, parting and reunion, none of it concerns me.*
*Fans open and close, gongs and drums sound then silence,*
*的情与外人，凭谁说？◢* *(Translator's note: Translated poetically to preserve the literary cadence)*

Pure a cappella!

Without a shred of extraneous accompaniment.

Chen Fang's singing voice was the sole vibration of sound.

In a flash, an oppressive wave of sorrow filled the entire recording studio. Regrettably, there were no listeners here—only Chen Fang alone.

Right at that moment, the door to the recording studio was pushed open.

A slender figure stepped inside in a slow, unhurried motion, not making the slightest sound.

Short hair.

A trench coat.

Azure-blue eyes.

The newcomer was not Xi Yuanyuan, but Yue Mi.

Yue Mi had originally intended to find Chen Fang to take him to the film and television department to meet some new colleagues and incidentally discuss upcoming filming matters. She had first gone to Xi Yuanyuan's office to inquire, only to learn that Chen Fang was most likely over at the recording studio, so she had hurried right over.

She hadn't expected that upon arrival, she would catch Chen Fang in the middle of singing.

And furthermore, it appeared to be a brand-new song.

Yue Mi stood quietly in the outer recording studio, watching Chen Fang, who was completely immersed in the music. Her lips parted slightly, silently forming the lyrics as they spilled from his mouth:

*◤Accustomed to blending joy, anger, sorrow, and delight into inked makeup,*
*So what if the old verses are sung through to the bone? These white bones and dark ashes are all that remain of me.*
*A drifting duckweed in a chaotic world, I bear to watch the fires of war burn mountains and rivers;*
*Humble though I am, I dare not forget to worry for my country, even if no one in this world knows my name.◢*

Chen Fang's singing was suffused with poignant grief.

That desolate sorrow, thick enough to entangle the human heart, tightened Yue Mi's chest, leaving her gaze slightly dazed.

She had heard Chen Fang sing before.

In fact, she had heard him many times.

Yet compared to his dazzling radiance on stage, where the eyes of the world were focused entirely upon him, Chen Fang at this moment resembled a solitary singer forgotten by time and humanity. He was no longer dazzlingly brilliant, nor was there any display of vocal acrobatics; yet he shared one commonality with his previous performances—he made it impossible to look away.

Chen Fang at this very moment evoked an even deeper sense of heartbreak.

The so-called sense of immersion was precisely this.

Immersion in the scene.

Immersion in the role.

And... immersion in emotion.

Chen Fang had now achieved the absolute pinnacle of emotional immersion, and Yue Mi was the finest proof of that.

Naturally, Yue Mi was also astounded by Chen Fang's literary mastery and phrasing.

She didn't understand music all that well.

After all, her family heritage lay in filmmaking, not singing.

Even by her standards, however, she could tell that the lyrics of this new song by Chen Fang were astonishingly breathtaking.

*The rivers and mountains of a chaotic world burn in the fires of war,*
*Though lowly, how dare I forget to grieve for my nation?*
*Others call this a heartless theatrical play,*
*Yet I don my painted face to repay it with my very life.*

A man capable of writing such lyrics must possess a terrifyingly solid foundation in literature, outshining even many of the professors of traditional Chinese studies she knew.

"Is this the real you?"

"Chen Fang."

Yue Mi's gaze carried a complex mixture of emotions.

Only by witnessing Chen Fang's state while singing with her own eyes could one truly understand just how extraordinary this man named Chen Fang truly was.