He unexpectedly becomes a father at the start of his life, and the mother of his child is a national

Lin Caiwei nodded in the recording studio.

She took off one earphone and listened to him.

"Look at the waveform," Chen Hao said, pointing to the waveform of her recording on the screen.

"The waveform in the verse is very full, but in the chorus, in the second line 'sealing me,' you were afraid of cracking your voice, so you stopped breathing too early, and the waveform became noticeably flat."

Lin Caiwei looked at the screen and hummed in agreement.

She herself realized that she hadn't dared to sing that line completely at her own pace.

"Let's do it again," she said.

Second time.

She took a deep breath and fully opened her voice for the chorus.

The high notes are powerful but not harsh; the breath support is ample but not straining.

The word "I" was dragged out for four beats, with a slight tremolo at the end, like ripples on a lake.

[Ding! Adjusted singing technique, music skill experience points +420]

Chen Hao nodded behind the control panel.

He didn't speak, but his fingers made slight adjustments on the fader, increasing the reverb to give the sound more space.

I adjusted the delay a little and added a faint echo to the end of the note.

Lin Caiwei looked at him through the glass.

He lowered his head, his brows furrowed, and stared intently at the screen.

The fingers move across the console like a pianist playing the piano.

The third time.

Fourth time.

"That's enough," Chen Hao said. "This one's done."

Lin Caiwei was somewhat surprised: "So fast?"

In all the years she's recorded songs, she's never been able to get a song right in just four takes.

Usually, it takes at least a dozen takes, and sometimes even dozens of takes when you're not in good form.

Sometimes, I can't even finish a satisfactory song in an entire afternoon.

The producer would have her try different singing styles, different emotions, and different breath control over and over again.

As for Chen Hao, he said it four times.

"I'm in good shape." Chen Hao has already started working on a new project. "Next song, 'Wings Against the Wind'."

The second song was recorded more smoothly.

Lin Caiwei found her rhythm.

She noticed that Chen Hao was very quiet when he was listening in, and he almost never interrupted her.

He would only say a few words after she had sung a song once.

He didn't say much, but every word he uttered hit the nail on the head.

"Add a little breathy sound here," he said, pointing to a lyric on the screen.

When Lin Caiwei sang it again, she added a breathy tone, and the lyrics instantly changed from being "sung" to being "spoken," like a sigh.

"Please pronounce that sentence more crisply."

She tightened her vocal cords, enunciating each word sharply and forcefully, conveying a sense of power.

"You can improvise a few lines here during the interlude."

She added a montage on the spot, and Chen Hao laughed from behind the control panel: "That's it."

[Ding! Melody refined and emotionally enhanced; Music Skill Experience +480]

[Ding! Guided the singer to complete a challenging section of the song, Music Skill Experience Points +500]

Lin Caiwei was surprised to find that Chen Hao's suggestions always hit the nail on the head.

He doesn't offer the kind of general criticism like "You didn't sing well enough here." He never says anything vague or abstract like "The emotions aren't right" or "The feeling isn't there."

He could give very specific directions for adjustment—how to breathe, how to take a breath after a certain word;

How to pronounce words: should the tip of the tongue touch the roof of the mouth or relax? How to handle the ending sound: should it be a straight finish or a slight tremolo?

These are the kinds of treatment she receives when working with top producers.

Those producers have been in the industry for two or three decades and have worked with countless superstars; they have golden ears.

They can detect a deviation of 0.1 cents and distinguish subtle differences in timbre between different microphones.

Their opening lines are always, "Adjust the compression ratio to 3:1," "Add 3dB to the EQ at 8k," no explanation needed, because you know they're right.

And Chen Hao, who was delivering food not long ago, actually knows these things?

The third song is titled "Flowers of Dust".

Lin Caiwei really liked this song and was extremely focused during the recording.

When she sang "I bloom a flower in the dust," she recalled the first few years of her career, her eyes welled up, and her voice trembled slightly.

Chen Hao didn't say anything and let her finish singing.

"Keep this version," he said. "The mood is right."

The fourth poem is titled "Clear Sky and Gentle Breeze".

Lin Caiwei seemed a little restrained when singing this song.

The lyrics are so tender, so much like a love song.

When she sang "You are the clear sky, and also the breeze," she always felt that the word "you" was too hot to pronounce.

Chen Hao took off his headphones behind the control panel, pushed open the door, and walked into the recording studio.

"You're holding back too much." He stood in front of her, a meter away, through the microphone stand. "This song isn't a sad love song; you don't need to sing it with your heart full of pain."

It's a reassuring song; you need to sing it to convey that feeling of "I'm here."

Lin Caiwei looked at him: "What does it feel like to know 'I'm here'?"

"Yes," Chen Hao said. "It's not about taking, it's about giving."

It's not "I need you," it's "I'm here."

Lin Caiwei remained silent for a few seconds.

She recalled Sisi thinking about Chen Hao saying, "We don't need to say thank you between us."

I remember him raising his daughter alone, cooking, writing books, composing songs, and making investments, never complaining or whining.

That's the kind of person he is.

When she spoke again, her voice had changed.

It's not that the skills have changed, it's that the mindset has changed.

The fifth, the sixth, the seventh...

Every song was recorded smoothly.

Sometimes Lin Caiwei feels that she is not in good condition, her throat is tight, and she can't hit the high notes.

Chen Hao would let her rest for a few minutes, take out a thermos from the refrigerator, pour a cup of warm water—the water temperature was just right, neither too hot nor too cold.

"Clear your throat." He handed her the cup. "No rush."

She took the cup and sipped it slowly.

He just stood there, neither urging nor asking, just waiting.

Sometimes she would record the same lyric seven or eight times, but no matter how she sang it, it never felt right.

Chen Hao told her not to waste any more time and suggested she switch to another song and finish recording the others first.

When she went back to record that line, she found that she was in much better shape.

He never frowned, sighed, or said "one more time" with a disappointed tone when she sang badly.

He patiently accompanied her through the recording process, again and again, until she was satisfied.

[Ding! Recording of the fifth song completed. Music skill experience points +450]

[Ding! Recording of the sixth song completed, music skill experience points +460]

[Ding! Seventh song recorded, music skill experience points +440]

……

[Ding! Recording of the ninth song completed, music skill experience points +470]

Before I knew it, all nine songs were recorded.

Lin Caiwei took off her headphones and walked out of the recording studio.

She glanced at the clock on the wall.

Only three hours have passed.

She looked at Chen Hao in disbelief: "Is it all recorded?"

"Hmm." Chen Hao nodded, scrolling the mouse to check the project files.

"All nine tracks are finished, and the original files are all here. The raw audio hasn't been edited. I'll do the post-production mixing in a bit, and we should be able to finish everything today."