Entertainment: A song that brought his deceased wife back to life.

The recording site of the third episode.

Adam's song "Need Someone to Accompany Me" had just ended less than three minutes ago.

The applause was still booming down from the third floor. But the air in the waiting area was so thick it felt like it was about to melt into strings.

Veteran singer Lin Bonian dropped his water glass on the ground and didn't even bother to pick it up; folk music icon Kay Tse leaned against the wall, closing her eyes and desperately taking deep breaths.

The other two national-level singers exchanged a glance, but neither of them said a word.

The feeling of being crushed by this international-level monster is not pain at all.

It's a tingling sensation on the scalp. So tingling that it causes a loss of speech.

"Sixth place—Luo Qianyu!"

The staff member jogged over to call for someone, his voice cracking.

Luo Qianyu stood up from the folding chair and casually tugged at the cuff of her black work clothes.

The phone screen lit up; it was a message from Xu Qing.

Take a deep breath. Then rip them all off.

Luo Qianyu locked the screen and tossed her phone into her bag. The smile on her lips grew wider and wider.

She strode toward the stage entrance, the hem of her work clothes whipping out a sharp gust of wind.

Luo Qianyu, who wore a red dress and sang heartbreaking love songs, has completely disconnected today.

Now, the one ready to go on stage is a cocky woman whose face screams "Let's fight!"

In the darkness at the stage entrance, the host was reading the introductions.

"The next singer... to be honest, the fact that he dared to take over right after Adam blew up the stage deserves applause just for that audacity."

A burst of laughter, tinged with tentative curiosity, came from the audience.

The lights went out. The studio was plunged into complete darkness.

The next second, a blinding spotlight slashed down from the dome, fixing its gaze firmly on the center of the stage—

Luo Qianyu strode out of the darkness and into the light.

Wearing black overalls, heavy-duty Doc Martens, and long hair tied into an extremely neat high ponytail.

There was no gentle piano, no crisp acoustic guitar.

The band behind her had been completely replaced with a bass, synthesizer, and drum kit.

A pure R&B hardcore lineup.

In the audience, someone couldn't help but let out a soft "Huh?"

Luo Qianyu held the microphone stand with one hand and didn't say a single unnecessary word.

She tilted her head slightly and raised her chin defiantly at the drummer behind her.

The drumbeats crashed down.

The bass drum and snare drum alternate, creating a highly elastic syncopated rhythm.

It's not a run-of-the-mill pop song in 4/4 time, but rather the unique swing rhythm of R&B. The weight is firmly pressed onto the second half of the beat, like a black panther poised to pounce stepping on a spring.

The bass followed, the low frequencies rolling directly under everyone's feet.

Luo Qianyu spoke.

Love is like a gust of wind; it blows and then it's gone.

Just this one sentence.

In the waiting area, two singers jumped up from their chairs.

That's Luo Qianyu's voice?!

Yes, the tone is hers. But the pronunciation and articulation are completely different.

There was no deliberate attempt to hit high notes; the voice lazily rested on the edge of the beat, each word exuding a nonchalant sexiness, much like the sultry wind before a downpour.

"No one can stop this kind of pace—"

When she sang the word "rhythm," she performed an extremely sophisticated trick.

The word "奏" was split into two syllables, with the first half being a true voice and the second half a breathy sound sliding outwards. The entire pronunciation was thick, stringy, and full of elasticity.

This is the instinct of a top R&B singer.

But when sung by a girl who has been labeled "sweet" by the entire internet for three years, the effect is comparable to throwing a bomb directly into the audience.

"Without you, my soul has lost control—"

"Dark clouds are descending, and I'm being dragged along by them."

Her body began to sway rhythmically.

It wasn't the kind of choreographed dance that girl groups do; it was a natural resonance between core strength and music. The shoulders trembled slightly, exuding both swagger and wildness.

The corner of the last row of the audience seats.

Xu Qing lowered the brim of his hat, while the middle-aged woman next to him tugged at his sleeve desperately.

"Young man! Who's this girl? Was she the one in the red dress who got eliminated last time and replaced?!"

Xu Qing ignored her and just stared at the glowing shadow on the stage.

A true master is never afraid of the storm, because she is the storm itself.

"Leave quietly, silently, and without a trace—"

"They're on the verge of danger—"

In these two sentences, Luo Qianyu lowered her voice to the extreme, with breathy voice making up 70% of it.

The sound walks a tightrope in front of the microphone; it's so low that it will cut off if it's any lower, but each word is like a nail, firmly nailed to the beat.

"Baby, my world is in turmoil—"

The sound pressure surged unexpectedly over the word "violent"!

There was no crescendo, no build-up. It went straight from breathy vocals to the high register of mixed voice in a second, crisp and clean like a sword being drawn from its sheath.

In the front row of the judges' panel, Fang Hong braced himself against the edge of the table with both hands, leaning his entire body forward.

The chorus is coming.

"Love comes too fast, like a tornado—"

The drum kit exploded! The bass's low frequencies surged wildly outwards, and the synthesizers created a distorted, metallic wall of sound.

Luo Qianyu's voice was not swallowed up by the sound wall at all; she rode directly on the sound wave!

Every syllable is precisely timed to fit into the gaps between the drumbeats. It's as casual as playing music, yet as precise as a top-of-the-line instrument.

"Unable to escape the storm's clutches, there was no time to run away—"

The moment the word "escape" came out, the transition in pronunciation was absolutely brilliant.

The sound plummets rapidly from the mid-high range, then abruptly turns at the bottom, producing an incredibly smooth embellishment.

In the recording studio, Xu Qing forced him to practice the vocal runs fourteen times.

At that moment, every single cent landed squarely on the faces of three thousand people.

"I can't think about it anymore—I can't think about it anymore—"

"I won't—I won't—I can't—"

The three "no"s are each heavier and more ruthless than the last.

The voice bounced back and forth between true and falsetto, but the rhythm remained steady and firmly held in the second half of the beat.

The audience on the third floor couldn't control themselves and started nodding wildly to the rhythm.

"Love can be as fleeting as a tornado—"

"I can't bear it anymore, I have nowhere to hide—"

In these two sentences, her voice displayed a highly aggressive quality.

Not sweet, not depressing. Rather, it's a burning sensation, as if it's been scorched by fire and then quenched by ice.

"I don't want to think about it anymore—I don't want to think about it anymore—"

"No—no—I don't want to think about you anymore—"

She raised the last "you" a minor third. Her voice gently faded at the highest point, transforming into a wisp of breath that blended into the coda.

The first chorus has ended.

Fang Hong's hand, hidden under the table, was clenched into a tight fist.

The second verse begins.

"Without realizing it, you've already left me—"