He was in college, but his songs were at the Grammys.

May 9th, Saturday.

The weather is unbelievably nice.

11:55 a.m.

The rooftop of the Star Trail Entertainment Building.

This area has been set up as a small relaxation area, with a few rattan tables and chairs, a few potted plants, and even a set of professional-grade outdoor audio equipment in the corner.

Qiu Xuan and Lin Peikun stood side by side in front of the glass railing at the edge of the rooftop, each holding a freshly brewed cup of hand-drip coffee.

"Five more minutes." Lin Peikun glanced at his watch, his tone relaxed.

Qiu Xuan nodded without saying anything, and simply took a sip of coffee.

His gaze was fixed on the distant horizon, his expression seemingly calm, but the fingers gripping the coffee cup unconsciously tightened slightly.

Over the past few days, discussions about the "Saturday battle" have continued to ferment online.

Although Chen Ming's involvement turned this showdown from a "battle between two Lins" into a three-way melee.

However, in the eyes of most netizens and music critics, the core of this battle is still the contest between Lin Wei and Lin Peikun, two top singers, and a stage for Qiu Xuan, a gold-medal songwriter, to prove his status.

As for Chen Ming?

A young man with some talent, but clearly blinded by his sudden success.

A young man trying to break a rock with an egg.

Many netizens who were just watching the spectacle had already come up with consoling comments for Chen Ming, such as "honorable defeat" and "commendable courage."

It was as if his failure was already a foregone conclusion before the song was even released.

Qiu Xuan saw these sounds to varying degrees.

He doesn't care.

Or rather, he forced himself not to care.

A nineteen-year-old newcomer is not worth investing too much emotion in.

But for some reason, standing on the rooftop at this moment, watching the hands of his watch tick toward twelve o'clock, Qiu Xuan's originally confident composure was inexplicably stirred by a very subtle ripple.

"Time's up," Lin Peikun suddenly said.

Qiu Xuan snapped out of his daze and glanced down at his phone screen.

It's exactly twelve o'clock.

Almost simultaneously, several mainstream music apps installed on the phone popped up with new song notifications.

Lin Peikun had already walked to the audio equipment, connected his phone, and swiped his finger across the screen.

"Which song should we listen to first?" he asked, turning around.

Logically, we should listen to their own song, "The One Who Loves You," first.

But Qiu Xuan was silent for two seconds before speaking: "Listen to the Sea".

Lin Peikun raised an eyebrow, didn't ask any further questions, entered the song title in the search box, and clicked play.

After a few seconds of buffering, the intro started playing from the speakers.

The faint sound of ocean waves drifted into my ears.

The piano sound was so clean it was almost transparent, like the first raindrop falling on the sea in the early morning.

Then, human voices joined in.

That was Lin Wei's voice.

Write to me and tell me what color the sea is today...

Upon hearing the first sentence, Qiu Xuan's hand holding the coffee cup paused almost imperceptibly.

He didn't immediately offer a comment; he simply closed his eyes and listened attentively.

The piano music continued to flow, while the strings spread out faintly in the background, like fog slowly gathering and dispersing on the distant horizon.

Lin Wei's singing was very restrained.

She simply narrated in a voice that carried the weight of a story:

"How does the sea feel, keeping you company every night?"

"Gray represents not wanting to talk, blue represents melancholy."

"And you, wandering soul, where will you find rest...?"

From the initial whisper-like narration to the gradual accumulation of emotions.

The longing for a distant lover and the anxiety about the uncertainty of the future of love are made particularly clear and full in the clean arrangement.

When Qiu Xuan heard "gray means not wanting to talk, blue means melancholy," his closed eyelids trembled slightly.

Using color to represent emotions may seem simple, but it requires extremely keen sensitivity and refined expressive ability.

What's even more remarkable is that this line, placed within the overall emotional flow of the song, doesn't feel out of place at all; instead, it becomes the key touchpoint that brings the inner turmoil to the surface.

Then, the chorus came.

The strings, surging like a tidal wave, finally released the long-suppressed emotions.

Listen—to the sound of the sea crying.

"Sighing, who has been heartbroken again?"

"But he's still not fully awake..."

Lin Wei's voice here displays astonishing power.

That wasn't a loud, wailing cry, but a more restrained way of expressing oneself.

There is dissatisfaction, worry, confusion, and questioning; layers of emotions intertwine and collide in the melody.

Qiu Xuan had stopped breathing at some point.

He heard the true essence of the song.

That's not just a simple love song; it's a personal internal battle.

The lyrics use the personified "sea" to blame himself on one hand, and repeatedly defend himself on the other. This pain of self-torn apart is amplified to the extreme by the melody and singing.

What impressed Qiu Xuan even more was the structural design of the entire song.

From whispers filled with unvented sorrow, to the emotional outburst when the sound of waves crashed, to the final, almost desperate question, "Tell me, what were you feeling when you left me?"

The three-part emotional progression flows seamlessly without any dragging.

In just over five minutes, it contained such a rich range of emotions and such delicate psychological descriptions.

What Qiu Xuan cared about even more was that the verses were quiet and narrative, like a whisper when facing the sea alone in the dead of night.

The emotions in the chorus rise, yet remain restrained. The sadness of "hearing the sea cry" is not a loud wail, but a suppressed, deep sob echoing with the tide.

This level of emotional control is incredibly precise...

Qiu Xuan's breathing slowed down without him realizing it.

The song, which lasted a little over five minutes, finished playing quickly.

The last note dissipated into the air.

The rooftop was quiet for a few seconds.

Only the faint sounds of traffic from the distant streets and the soft rustling of the wind through the green leaves could be heard.

Lin Peikun spoke first, his voice filled with undisguised admiration: "This song... is really ruthless."

He meant "ruthless," not "good."

Because this song is so good, it goes beyond the ordinary category of "good to listen to".

It understands people's hearts so well, and it knows how to unfold the wrinkles of people's hearts layer by layer, and then match them with the most appropriate melody and singing.

As a top-tier singer, Lin Peikun listens to hundreds of demos every year and has collaborated with countless songwriters.

There aren't many songs that he would describe as "truly ruthless" rather than "truly good."

Qiu Xuan slowly opened his eyes.

He didn't speak immediately, but simply placed the now-cold coffee cup on the rattan table next to him.

Then, he turned around, leaned against the glass railing, and looked at Lin Peikun.

"It's better than I expected." Qiu Xuan finally spoke, his voice calm, but those who knew him well could hear a hint of complexity hidden beneath the calm. "There are just too many ingenious ideas in the composition. In just five minutes, the song is able to contain so many emotions without making it feel chaotic."

He paused, seemingly searching for a more precise expression.

"Furthermore, the song's overall feel, Lin Wei's voice, and her current personal state are all very well-matched."

Lin Peikun nodded and continued, "Moreover, the melody is very memorable. I only listened to it once, and now I can already hum the line 'Listen to the sound of the sea crying, who is sighing?' in my head."

That hit the nail on the head.

Whether a song can become a hit depends heavily on its memorable melody.

"Listen to the Sea" has clearly achieved this.

Qiu Xuan remained silent for a moment, then gently exhaled.

"I admit it," he said frankly, "This song might suit Lin Wei better than my song 'The One Who Loves You'."