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

At 2:05 p.m., the conference room on the third floor of the administration building was already full of people.

Zhang Wei's first reaction upon entering was that the scene was even larger than he had imagined.

The long conference table was filled with class monitors and counselors from various departments and classes. He recognized some of their faces, while others were complete strangers.

There are vocal music departments, popular music departments, and even folk music and music education departments.

It seems that every major in the school that has anything to do with "singing" has come today.

Even people who have no connection to the topic have come.

The meeting room was filled with a constant buzz of discussion. Some people were looking down at their phones, some were whispering to each other, and some were holding notebooks and taking notes, but their eyes were all glancing towards the door.

The dean hasn't arrived yet.

Zhang Wei found his seat in the composition department and sat down next to his advisor, Huang Xing.

Huang Xing had just returned from an exchange program in another city. His suitcase was still standing at his feet. He looked travel-worn, but full of energy.

He was in his early forties, wore silver-rimmed glasses, and usually had a gentle and kind appearance. But at this moment, he was unusually upright, with bright eyes and a faint smile on his lips.

There was a hint of... Zhang Wei thought for a long time and found a precise word: riding high on success.

That's right.

After spending half a month away on an exchange program, I came back to find that a legendary student from my class had gone head-to-head with a gold medal-winning creator and even won.

Anyone would get cocky in that situation.

"Old Huang," the vocal music department counselor leaned over and whispered, "how exactly did you train Chen Ming in your class? Share your experience!"

Huang Xing picked up the thermos on the table, slowly unscrewed the lid, and took a sip of tea.

Then, he smiled and said, "Talent is something that can't be cultivated."

The same is true.

He's fertilizing a pig!

Although he was Chen Ming's class counselor.

But he doesn't teach classes!

Other teachers might reluctantly offer a word of encouragement or guidance, but with him, it's best to leave it at that.

He was just lucky to have met Chen Ming in the class he was teaching.

Vocal Performance Department Counselor: "..."

Zhang Wei almost couldn't help but laugh.

Old Huang's posture makes it seem like he has the words "Versailles" etched on his forehead.

As they were talking, the conference room door was pushed open, and Li Jianping, the dean of the music academy, strode in.

The meeting room fell silent instantly.

Dean Li is in his early sixties with gray hair, but he stands very straight, his voice full of energy honed through years of vocal training.

He took his seat at the head of the table, his gaze sweeping across the room. Without a word of pleasantries, he began to speak:

"Everyone's here, let's begin."

The projection screen behind him lit up, and the official posters for "Chinese Singers" covered the entire white wall.

"I'm sure everyone saw this program this morning." Dean Li's voice was not loud, but it clearly reached everyone's ears. "It is hosted by CCTV and co-produced by the National Centre for the Performing Arts, the National Opera and Dance Theatre, and the Huaxia Conservatory of Music. The mentor lineup includes Wang Weizhou, Li Jinghua, Zhou Guoping, Zhao Yazhi, and Xu Huaimin."

He rattled off five names in one breath, saying, "What this lineup means is self-evident."

The meeting room was completely silent.

"Our school has been allocated three recommendation slots," Dean Li said, holding up three fingers. "Three."

As soon as he finished speaking, the suppressed commotion in the conference room finally erupted.

"Only three?!"

"Only three in the whole school?!"

"What about other schools? Do they have the same number?"

"Of the three selection regions, Jianghai is in the East China region. The competition is too fierce..."

Dean Li raised his hand to suppress the noise, and after the sound subsided, he continued, "There aren't many spots, but this is a CCTV program, not a marketplace. Among the dozens of art schools and hundreds of record companies across the country, those who have been nominated have already been selected."

After he finished speaking, his tone softened: "So, the school's principles for allocating these three spots are: fairness, openness, and impartiality."

A new page appears on the projection screen:

[Jianghai International Arts Academy's Selection Method for "Chinese Singing Star"]

Each class in the music academy may recommend two students to apply;

Students who are not from the music academy and are interested in participating can register through their class monitor, with a limit of one person per class.

If the number of applicants in a single class exceeds the limit, the class will organize its own preliminary selection to determine the final recommended candidates.

All registered contestants from across the school will participate in a unified campus singing competition, with a single round determining the winner.

Scoring method: All teachers and students vote on-site, and the top three vote-getters will be recommended by the school.

Five simple rules, without any twists or turns.

One game decides life or death.

Whoever gets the most votes goes on.

The meeting room was filled with hushed conversations as class monitors and counselors whispered amongst themselves, calculating how many promising young players they had in their classes.

Zhang Wei was still diligently taking notes when he suddenly felt someone approaching from his left.

The boy sitting next to him was He Mingyuan, the class monitor of the Vocal Music Department, Class 1, 2022. He was a boy wearing glasses.

The two had met before at some student events, but weren't very familiar with each other.

He Mingyuan lowered his voice, his tone tinged with eagerness: "It seems we have two classmates who have already signed with entertainment companies. They're both quite talented. We could let them give it a try."

He spoke with restraint, but his pride in "our class is full of talented people" was impossible to hide.

Zhang Wei put down his pen and turned his head.

He looked at He Mingyuan but didn't say anything.

He Mingyuan felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze and frowned: "Why are you looking at me?"

Zhang Wei smiled slightly.

Then, he leaned close to He Mingyuan's ear and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear, "Chen Ming is in our class."

He Mingyuan: "..."

He Mingyuan's face visibly stiffened for a moment.

He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but after several attempts, he could only manage to utter four words:

"...Who asked you!"

Zhang Wei chuckled and remained silent.

He picked up his pen again and continued taking notes, unable to suppress the smile on his face.

He Mingyuan silently shifted his buttocks half an inch to the other side, deciding to ignore this person for the next three minutes.

The meeting continued.

Dean Li then went on to explain the details of the registration process, deadline, and follow-up precautions in a clear and organized manner, highlighting the key points.

Half an hour later, he closed the folder and glanced around the room:

"That's roughly it. Each class should collect the registration intentions as soon as possible after the meeting, complete the preliminary selection by class by this Friday, and then conduct a school-wide unified selection next Monday..."

As soon as he finished speaking, he seemed to remember something and looked down at the list in his hand.

Then, he stopped and looked up:

"The class monitor and counselor of Class 3, 2022, Composition Department, please stay here."

There was a moment of silence in the conference room.

Dozens of eyes turned to Zhang Wei and Huang Xing.

Zhang Wei was stunned for a moment, then subconsciously straightened his back.

Huang Xing remained calm, simply putting down his thermos and straightening his collar.

After the others left the meeting room, Dean Li gestured for the two to sit down closer.

The door was gently closed by the last teacher to leave.

Only three people remained in the meeting room.

Dean Li did not speak immediately, but instead picked up his teacup, took a sip, and looked at Huang Xing's face.

"Old Huang," he began, his tone much more relaxed than during the meeting, "how was the exchange trip?"

Huang Xing smiled and said, "It's alright, I learned something."

"You seem unconcerned," Dean Li said, putting down his teacup and shaking his head. "I'm worried for you."

He cut straight to the point: "Chen Ming, from your class."

It's not a question, it's a statement.

Huang Xing nodded: "Yes."