Chinese Entertainment King: Starting as a Fat Boy and Becoming a Singing King

It must be said that Zhang Bichen sang very steadily, so steadily that there wasn't a single flaw.

Every note transition is precise to the millisecond, and every ending note is cleanly and crisply finished.

The style of the comments section has become fragmented.

[Steady, really steady. Zhang Bichen is a competitive player; he never makes a mistake.]

"A natural yet deep, resonant throat, full of breathiness and magnetism"—this voice is innate.

It sounds nice, but it lacks soul.

She was singing, not telling a story.

Parhat sings to tell a story, while Zhang Bichen sings to complete a task.

Your standards are too high; this is already a very high level.

But this is the finals; skill alone isn't enough, you need substance.

Some people defended Zhang Bichen: "He trained in South Korea for several years, honing his stability through intense training. And you call that a flaw?"

Na-young said that Zhang Bi-chen's singing style is different from ours; it's a fresh and popular style.

Someone immediately chimed in: "That's how trainees are: perfect technique, but lacking in emotional depth."

Then came Parhat.

The lights were dimmed to almost complete darkness.

A spotlight shone vertically down from the dome, illuminating Parhat in the center of the stage.

He stood there alone, holding a wooden guitar, without a band, without backup singers, and without a dazzling light show.

He sang Xu Wei's "Gift".

When the first sound came out, the entire venue fell silent.

His voice was like a blunt knife, not singing, but telling a story, like a man talking to his own shadow in the dead of night.

The four screens on the stage began to show pictures that Parhat and the children had drawn together.

Vibrant sunflowers, crooked little houses, and a blue sky covered with crayons.

He has an art background and when he's not working, he paints with the children.

The paintings appeared one by one on the circular screen, overlapping with his voice.

The barrage of comments reached its peak at this moment.

Other singers are singing, but he himself is the song.

Parhat's voice reflects the path he has walked throughout his life.

He practiced Mandarin diligently just to sing this song.

Look at those paintings; he painted them with the children.

He sang this song with his whole life.

Parhat doesn't need a championship; he's already an artist.

Yao Chen cheered him on on Weibo: "Whether you win the championship or not, you are the most unique star."

Naying later said that Parhat was the champion in her heart.

Wang Feng said, "We chose songs to make good music; the competition is no longer important."

The first time I heard his voice, I thought it was jarring; the second time, I thought it was alright; and the third time, I couldn't live without it.

This is Parhat; you have to listen carefully to feel what's so special about it.

He sang a Xu Wei song and it became his life's work.

When the song ended, the entire audience stood up and applauded.

The applause lasted for almost a minute.

Parhat held his guitar, bowed slightly, and his expression was as calm as a deep pool of water.

Then there's Zhou Shen.

The lights were cut into a gentle blue-white, like moonlight spilling onto the sea.

Zhou Shen stood alone in the center of the stage, wearing a white shirt and light-colored trousers. When the lights shone on his face, he looked as clean as a beam of light without any impurities.

The prelude to "I've Crossed the Ocean to See You" begins—piano, strings, an arrangement that is simple to the extreme.

He spoke. The moment his first words were uttered, the air in the entire venue froze.

"For you, I used six months' worth of savings to travel across the ocean to see you..."

Clear, bright, and so clean it was unlike a human voice.

It wasn't a girl's voice, nor a boy's falsetto; it was a pure, crystal-like voice that transcended gender labels.

There's something in his voice that Zhang Bichen's precision instruments don't have, and that Parhat's sandpaper and rust can't find either—it's youthful spirit, a gentleness that hasn't yet been worn down by life, a twenty-two-year-old boy singing a song about the distance with all his heart.

The live chat exploded at that moment.

[Even Zhou Shen's opening remarks are enough to make one kneel in despair.]

There are stars in Zhou Shen's voice.

Zhang Bichen is singing, Parhat is telling his story, and Zhou Shen is shining.

His voice transcends gender; it is simply beautiful.

Xu Yao modified his appearance, but his voice was his own.

No, Xu Yao gave him confidence, and confidence was his greatest weapon.

"Watching you depart amidst the swirling sandstorm, I was overwhelmed with grief."

[When Zhou Shen sang this lyric, it was like a love letter that was never sent.]

Zhou Shen's version is crystal clear.

Did you see Qi Qin wiping his eyes backstage?

I saw it too; Qi Qin's eyes were red.

Qi Qin said that Zhou Shen is "the most unique existence," and this statement now carries even more weight.

After Zhou Shen finished singing, he bowed in the direction of Qi Qin. This child is so sensible.

It's not about being sensible; it's about being grateful.

Thank you Xu Yao, thank you Qi Qin, thank you to everyone who believed in him.

Finally, Xu Yao made his appearance.

The lights were dimmed to almost complete darkness.

A spotlight shone vertically down from the dome, illuminating Xu Yao in the center of the stage.

He was wearing a simple black shirt with the collar open, and when the light shone on his face, his handsome jawline was clearly visible.

From a chubby, round-faced guy weighing 125 kilograms during the blind auditions to a 100-kilogram guy standing on the final stage now.

He sang Tanya Chua's "Blank Space".

The moment the first sound came out, the chat was silent for a full three seconds.

"It's actually very simple, very natural..."

There was something in Xu Yao's voice that the other three didn't have—it was a story.

It's about a man who got drunk late at night and, in an empty room, poured out his most vulnerable feelings to everyone.

His bass voice is like the foundation of a city—deep, steady, and understated, yet it carries the weight of the entire song.

"Actually, you love me, and you can't bear to part with me..."

When he sang the chorus, his voice rose from low to high, like a hand reaching out from the ground to soothe the wounded soul.

After a three-second silence, the comments section burst forth like a flood breaking through a dam.

Xu Yao isn't just singing a song; he's recounting his past.

"It's actually very simple, actually very natural," I couldn't hold back my emotions after hearing the first sentence.

His deep voice tells a story, a tale of all the sweat and toil that took him from 250 pounds to 200 pounds.

"Blank Space" is the simplest song, but the simplest things are the hardest to sing.

Because he has no tricks to hide, and without love songs and stories, he has no power to move people.

[Exclusive insider information: Without teacher Yang Kun, you might not have seen Xu Yao on stage today]

Have you noticed that when Xu Yao sang "Blank Space," he didn't change a single word or add a single vocal transition?

Because it's unnecessary. The original lyrics and music already tell his own story.

Maybe you're not mine.

I love you, yet I must let you go.

Separation may be a choice

But it could also be our destiny.

As the song ended, Xu Yao stood on the stage, with the lights shining down on him.

He paused for three seconds, then said into the microphone, "This song is dedicated to everyone who has waited for love."

He bowed slightly.

The entire audience stood up and applauded, and the applause lasted for nearly a minute.

After the four songs were sung, the voting and tallying phase began.

The circular screen displays live footage of the four finalists, with each person's face divided into light and shadow by the lighting.

Hua Shao walked to the center of the stage with the script, and the entire audience fell silent.

The results of the first round of voting for individual performances are in.

"The contestant with the most votes from the live audience will advance directly to the final showdown..."

The numbers on the circular screen began to jump.

The four bar charts rise from the bottom: red represents Zhang Bichen, blue represents Parhati, green represents Zhou Shen, and yellow represents Xu Yao.

The bar chart is climbing faster and faster, with blue and green almost neck and neck, red close behind, and yellow slightly lower.

Freeze.

"The one with the most votes who advances directly to the final showdown is—Zhou Shen."

The green bar chart stopped at the very top.

Zhou Shen covered his mouth with his hand.

Qi Qin stood up from the mentor's seat and clapped with both hands above his head.

The live chat exploded at that moment.

[The boat is deep! The boat is deep! The boat is deep!]

[Directly advances to the final showdown! Zhou Shen is number one!]

[Everyone stood up and applauded; at this moment, Wolf Dad was the proudest person in the world.]

Hua Shao continued, "The fourth-ranked player, who is eliminated in this round, is Parhat."

The Capital Indoor Stadium was silent for about half a second.

Then everyone stood up.

It wasn't cheers, it was applause.

The applause is not for the victors, but for the artists.

Parhat, holding his guitar, bowed slightly.

Wang Feng stood up from the mentor's seat, walked to the edge of the stage, and hugged Parhat.

They hugged for a long time.

Parhat doesn't need a champion, the champion needs him.

[Wang Feng said, "We chose songs to make good music; the competition is no longer important."]

Hua Shao began, "Now, I announce the final votes for Zhang Bichen and Xu Yao."