Chapter 78: There Aren’t So Many Genius Singers

At this moment, the contestants resting backstage stared at Xu Ze’s stage in utter shock.

“He’s terrifying. Does someone like Xu Ze even need to participate in a competition like ours?”

“How is it that every song he performs is so beautiful?”

“It feels like he shouldn’t be a contestant at all—he’s more than qualified to be a mentor.”

Everyone sighed in resignation.

Lyrics that capture the very essence of love, paired with an invincible melody, made listeners feel as if they were drifting in a dream.

If, with his previous songs, they could at least excuse their gap in ability by saying Xu Ze borrowed from ancient poetry, now, with this song “Hair Like Snow,” they could find no reason to refute his brilliance.

“In a former life—fate and reincarnation, history turns to ash, but I take only a ladleful of love.”

Such divine lyrics made them realize, perhaps for the first time, just how vast the gulf between themselves and Xu Ze truly was.

A song like this was likely beyond their reach for a lifetime.

At this point, no one could muster any desire to compete with Xu Ze.

As the saying goes, when you surpass others by just a little, you’ll invite their jealousy and disdain—they’ll believe your success is mere luck.

But when you leave everyone so far behind that they can’t even see a path to catch up, all that remains is admiration.

At the judges’ table, Jiang Yiyan’s eyes had begun to redden.

A song about love, about eternal devotion, was enough to utterly overwhelm a woman of her age.

Even as a mentor, she was not immune.

Every woman harbors a profound yearning for love, deeper than words can express.

Jiang Yiyan looked at Xu Ze and murmured to herself,

“If Xu Ze can write lyrics like these, he must truly be a man of deep feeling.”

A passionate, talented man—could there be a more perfect vision of a boyfriend?

At that moment, Jiang Yiyan made up her mind: once this competition ended, she would take the initiative to message Xu Ze.

To hell with restraint!

In front of a man like Xu Ze, any woman who clings to even a shred of reserve is being utterly foolish.

It’s all too easy—while you’re pretending to play hard to get, someone else may have already stolen ahead.

As the song reached its climax, Xu Ze furrowed his brow and sang with abandon:

“Your hair like snow, turns sorrowful our parting,
I burn incense—who is moved?
Invite the moon, let memories shine bright,
Love is perfect beneath the moonlight.”

At these lines, the audience’s hearts conjured a scene of breathtaking beauty.

Your hair is white as snow; even in parting, as long as you are there, this moment still holds beauty.

After we part, I burn incense for you, praying—can our feelings move the heavens?

How heartbreakingly beautiful, the farewell between man and woman.

“It’s so beautiful!”

“Such exquisite love can only be fully expressed through Xu Ze’s voice.”

“These lyrics are so moving.”

In that moment, a couple in the audience held each other tightly.

The girl instinctively asked the boy, “Will you still love me in the next life?”

“If I were to disappear, would you search for me, pray for me, no matter what?”

The boy gently stroked her hair and answered firmly, “I will. I’ll love you forever, just like in Xu Ze’s song.”

In that moment, swept up in Xu Ze’s song, they believed in love, believed in eternity.

Onstage, Xu Ze gazed at the men and women before him and felt a strange wave of emotion.

In his previous life, having witnessed too much of human fickleness, he had ceased to believe in love.

Yet in this life, at this very moment, his heart unexpectedly softened.

Perhaps love could be beautiful.

It just needed to be found.

Then,

Xu Ze gripped the microphone and sang the most demanding part of the song:

“Your hair like snow, scatters tears in the wind,
Whom have I waited for, growing old in vain?
Worldly intoxication, years gently tipsy,
With unwavering resolve, I carve a monument to my eternal love for you.”

At that instant,

Judge Wei Ping shot to his feet.

“This…!”

Wei Ping was visibly shaken.

From the very first line, he’d noticed how high Xu Ze set the key.

If a song starts off this difficult, it only gets harder.

He’d wondered how Xu Ze would handle the later sections, half-expecting he’d have to lower the difficulty.

But even at the climax, Xu Ze never once eased up.

From beginning to end, the song was unrelentingly challenging!

A Gb4 followed by a B4, every chorus containing these notes!

And then that final climax—it left Wei Ping in awe.

That line, “Worldly intoxication,” soared to a nearly impossible pitch; any other singer, ninety-nine percent of them, would have to switch to falsetto.

But Xu Ze sang it in full voice.

It was simply astounding.

Wei Ping knew he himself could never pull it off.

Nor could any of the veteran singers he respected.

He was certain now—this song, Zhang Yingjing had not lent a hand with it.

Because even his mentor, Zhang Yingjing, could not manage that part!

“The music world is truly about to change.”

The atmosphere in the hall had reached a fever pitch.

“Xu Ze’s high notes are incredible!”

“I’ve never heard such a divine song before—this was worth every minute.”

“That high note—it was like a dream.”

In an age where everything is rushed, even love itself, Xu Ze’s song about unwavering love across lifetimes moved everyone present.

In the audience, a woman with a child gazed at Xu Ze through her tears.

Once, she too had known a love so pure and all-encompassing.

But somewhere along the way, her life with her partner had become nothing but complaints, quarrels, and exhaustion.

They’d forgotten that they were once each other’s greatest love.

Now, memories of those early days, long buried, began to resurface.

She remembered—

They would talk on the phone all night, and he would always call her to wake her up on time.

No matter the occasion, he would send her a bouquet of her favorite champagne roses.

Wherever they went, they held hands, unwilling to let go.

Each was the other’s whole world.

Together, they looked forward to the future, working hard for it.

Until life buried those dreams.

Just then, her phone lit up.

It was a message from him.

“Honey, are you almost done? I’ll come pick you up soon—it’s gotten a bit cold, I’ll bring your scarf.”

She couldn’t hold back her tears any longer.

She replied immediately:

“Honey, make sure you dress warmly before you head out. Be careful on the road.”

“I love you.”

…

Meanwhile, in the control room, all the women staff had tears in their eyes, many openly weeping.

Even the men felt their breathing quicken.

At that moment, Yang Yin was lost in her own thoughts.

“So it was him?”

“That night, after drinking at home, the voice I heard singing—it’s the same song Xu Ze is performing now: ‘Hair Like Snow.’”

A smile crept onto Yang Yin’s lips.

“I knew it—there aren’t that many genius singers in the world.”