Chapter Ninety-Seven: After Tonight, We Shall Part Ways

The guests on site were mildly startled.

They had only meant to joke around.

They had not expected it.

Chen Fang, are you serious?

Those guests did not know that on his very first day on Cloud Dream Island, Chen Fang had already sung "The Seabed," nor did they know that last night he had sung "The Brightest Star in the Night Sky" as well.

So they were only a little surprised.

But the fans watching the program were in an uproar.

Another original song?

That makes three!!

From "The Seabed" on the first day on Cloud Dream Island, to "The Brightest Star in the Night Sky" last night, and now yet another original song.

In just seven days, Chen Fang had sung three original songs, and every one of them was frighteningly high in quality.

A master songwriter!

In that instant, this thought flashed through the minds of everyone in the entertainment industry.

At this rate, Chen Fang was going to become the youngest master songwriter in the country’s entertainment world.

Today, the youngest master songwriter was already in his forties, and he had not released a new song in two or three years, showing clear signs of running dry.

But Chen Fang?

He was only in his twenties...

That was terrifying.

At that moment, every entertainment company was filled with regret.

To think that such a brilliant talent had been handed over to Future Stardom. If they could have brought him into their own company, then even if Chen Fang never sang at all and only wrote songs, he could still support a whole host of kings and queens of the music world.

On the other side, inside the villa, Su Murou could not help but sigh. "Chen Fang, you really are a monster."

Songwriters were originally a scarce resource in the entertainment industry, and every company valued them highly.

Yet Chen Fang’s appearance made writing songs seem cheap.

But on closer thought, it was not the songs that were cheap.

It was Chen Fang who was simply too monstrous.

Su Murou very much wanted to crack open Chen Fang’s head and see what was inside, to understand how he could create so many beautiful songs...

"Writing songs? Easy."

Chen Fang was showing off again.

At that, Su Murou rolled her eyes.

Inside, she was envious beyond words. If only acting were as easy for her as writing songs was for Chen Fang. As expected, people could not be compared. The moment they were compared, the gap became painfully obvious, and it dealt a severe blow to one’s confidence.

Still, Su Murou quickly adjusted her mindset.

Chen Fang was a freak.

She was normal.

So she should not compare herself to a freak. She should compare herself to normal people.

On the television, Chen Fang held a guitar. He did not tune it or test the sound; he went straight into the intro.

Everyone lowered their gazes slightly.

It was an unfamiliar opening.

It really was Chen Fang’s original work.

The guitar strings trembled, and the melody did not drift away. Instead, it hovered around the campfire before them, carried in by the faint crackling of flames into everyone’s ears.

The moon hung coldly in the sky. It knew as well that tomorrow would bring a farewell.

We light the fire.

We sing.

We dance.

Tipsy with wine, we speak of the sorrows and joys of a lifetime.

The cold moon hung overhead. Tonight’s sea breeze was gentle, and there was no sound of waves around them, only Chen Fang’s singing and the crackle of the fire.

This song fit the moment perfectly.

After tonight, the few people gathered around the fire would part ways.

Though they had only spent seven days together, it was hard not to feel a pang of emotion.

This also showed that Chen Fang really was composing on the spot and had not prepared in advance.

Before tonight, the production team had not said anything about a meal together, nor had they mentioned a campfire.

Yet all those details were reflected in Chen Fang’s song.

Gradually, the people before the fire began lightly clapping their hands, following the rhythm of Chen Fang’s guitar.

The mood of the song was somewhat heavy.

That was only natural.

After all, this song was about bidding farewell to a friend, expressing blessings in the midst of reluctant parting.

But Chen Fang did not deliberately magnify that heaviness. Instead, a faint smile rested on his lips, and the firelight played across his face, revealing not the slightest trace of sadness.

Moon, do not grow tender with pity.

My friend, do not be so melancholy.

Yesterday has already passed.

All sorrow and worry have gone away.

You must believe that tomorrow’s sky

will be even bluer.

Chen Fang’s voice became vast and open.

Before the fire, everyone wanted to sing along with him, but they did not know the lyrics and could only hum along.

Though we have known one another for only a short while, and our bond is not deep, on the eve of departure Chen Fang still offered the sincerest of blessings.

Forget your troubles.

Cast away your sorrow.

Today will pass, and what has passed is not worth dwelling on again and again.

The next second, the chorus struck.

But what shocked everyone was that the chorus did not contain full lyrics at all, only a stretch of sounds that could not be understood.

Most people had no idea what those lines meant.

Only a few recognized them as some kind of dialect.

"I can’t understand it, man."

"This dialect sounds so familiar."

"Doesn’t everyone in the country basically speak standard language? Are dialects still a thing?"

"Of course they are. My grandfather is from a village in the southwest, and people there still speak some local dialect. I never understand it when I visit."

"That sounds familiar to me too. Is it the Li language?"

"I checked. It really does sound a lot like the Li language, but just from the pronunciation alone, I couldn’t find out the exact meaning."

Even though they did not understand the meaning, it did not stop the audience from loving it.

A catchy melody beats everything.

After hearing it just once, the audience could already roughly sing along; whether the pronunciation was correct was another matter entirely.

The chorus ended.

After a simple guitar transition, the second section began.

The lyrics were completely different from the first part.

But the melody remained the same.

The simple sound of the guitar strings, combined with the soft tapping of Chen Fang’s palm against the back of the guitar, occasionally mixed with the crackle of the campfire. The three sounds blended together perfectly, and beneath Chen Fang’s singing, they sounded so harmonious and tender.

Of course, there was another accompaniment in the air.

That was the applause of the other guests.

To be honest, this song was best suited to be sung as a group.

Everyone sitting together around a campfire, chatting and laughing, drinking a little while speaking of the past and dreaming of the future—that was the perfect way to perform it.

But now it had become Chen Fang’s solo.

There was nothing for it.

It was their first time hearing it, and they could not possibly sing along.

When Chen Fang sang the chorus, his emotions suddenly soared, as if he were pressing down the cold moon itself, pressing down the melancholy of parting.

After the second chorus, there was a section sung entirely a cappella in the Li language.

Chen Fang’s voice carried a rough timbre.

So this half-hoarse, half-confessional a cappella passage became the crowning touch of the whole song.

The song drifted upward.

It melted into the wind.

It scattered beneath the moonlight.

As the guitar melody gradually faded, the song reached its ending as well. In the repeated refrain of forgetting to wave, forgetting to say goodbye, and wishing one another well on the road, the guitar sound finally vanished completely.

At last, only Chen Fang’s own a cappella echo remained.