"If possible, I would like to change this world."
"But I don’t have the grand ambition to eliminate war from the world, nor can I become an actor or a movie star."
"Far from it, my cowardly self can’t even muster a smile in front of you."
…
The original instrumental accompaniment of *"Flipping the Rocks, Morning Light Falls on You"* played through the surround sound speakers, with the bass cover layered over it, the low frequencies flowing seamlessly, almost perfectly executed.
At this moment, Lin Mu on stage had become one with the spotlight.
If, before the "duel" began, she still felt uneasy under the gaze of Lu Qing and Su Ling, feeling a bit of social anxiety and nervousness,
then the moment the music started, all that tension and fear vanished under her rock-solid performance skills.
Yin Ci P once said: *"On stage, everyone gets nervous, to the point where they can’t even perform at ten percent of their usual ability. But there’s a way to overcome this nervousness—
just put in ten times the effort during practice, and you’ll be able to deliver a perfect performance on stage."*
That’s right, ten times the effort can dispel anxiety.
Ten times the effort, even if you only perform at twenty percent, can still achieve perfection.
"As long as I follow Qing Sang’s footsteps and keep moving forward, I am the strongest."
"Just do as Qing Sang says, and I’ll have nothing to fear."
The fear of unfamiliar gazes, the anxiety of performing in front of others, the resistance to being scrutinized—all of it is false.
Day after day, year after year, behind the barrier of ability forged with tears and sweat, it all becomes false.
—*"I am the strongest."*
…
…
"Brother… she’s amazing."
Su Ling, sitting in the audience, was witnessing such a close-up bass performance for the first time.
Generally speaking, most people at live shows can barely hear the low frequencies of the bass in a song.
The average ear can only pick up two things—1. The lyrics sung by the lead vocalist. 2. The instrumental accompaniment.
In the case of 2, the sounds often blend together, making it impossible to separate them, and people can only judge whether it sounds "good" or "bad."
Those who know a bit about music can break down the accompaniment into individual parts—for example, someone who has learned guitar can pick out the guitar in the mix, while a drummer can focus on the drum beats, distinguishing the kick drum, snare, toms, and cymbals.
The same goes for keyboards and bass, especially the bass. Those who haven’t studied it or don’t know much about instruments might get the impression that "the bassist is just going through the motions on stage, but you can’t hear anything, like they’re faking it."
In short, it’s because their ears haven’t been trained to recognize the timbre of that particular instrument.
Once you know what a bass sounds like and the general frequency range it occupies, you can isolate it from the entire mix, filtering out the other sounds and focusing solely on the bass to evaluate the player’s skill.
Lu Qing has "golden ears."
As a composer and independent musician, being able to instantly distinguish the timbres of all the instruments in a piece is one of his most basic skills.
In other words, he can "immediately" hear up to 20 different tracks of instrumentation simultaneously, including guitar, bass, drums, keyboards, violins, violas, cellos… even down to the specific chords played on the keyboard, the techniques used on the guitar, the rhythm patterns on the drums, and whether the bass is playing root notes or melodic lines.
This isn’t some far-fetched claim—it’s a skill that’s essential for conservatory-trained conductors or professional composers.
If your ears aren’t sharp, you can’t do arrangement or mixing. (Of course, it also has to do with talent.)
…
Hearing his sister’s admiration, Lu Qing nodded slightly, giving a look of approval like a "reclusive master": "Indeed, though I don’t want to praise her, there was only one small mistake in her performance just now. Almost a full combo."
"Huh??"
"What?!"
As the music ended, Lu Qing’s words not only surprised Su Ling but also made Lin Mu, who thought she had nailed the performance, furrow her brows!
She thought to herself, *That can’t be right. I’ve practiced this song so much it’s practically in my DNA. I’ve even practiced the guitar parts and can play and sing it flawlessly. I’ve gone through it at least a hundred times. How could there be a mistake?*
"Where’s the mistake? Don’t pretend to know what you’re talking about! If you can’t explain it properly, I’ll just take it as you picking a fight."
Lin Mu glared at the audience with dissatisfaction.
But Lu Qing simply said:
"Well, it’s not a big issue. You played well, but there was one part where the emotional expression felt a bit off. Never mind, I’ll give you 1 point, how about that?"
He put on a nitpicky expression, scrutinizing Lin Mu with an overly critical gaze.
That annoying look, combined with the attitude of "even though you didn’t make a mistake, I’m going to insist you did," was no different from the trolls who love to nitpick.
This only made Lin Mu feel even more incredulous:
"Hey! No need to be sarcastic. If I really didn’t play perfectly, I’d admit it. So, I’ll take that 1 point, but not without reason. For the next song, I’ll record every detail of my performance. If you still think there’s a problem, you can replay it, pause, and point out the mistake. If your reasoning holds up, I’ll concede defeat without any argument. Deal?"
"Fair enough."
Lu Qing gave a thumbs-up, praising the "little devil": "Not bad, you’re quite reasonable. Now you’re starting to look like a real musician."
"Hah?! Stop acting all high and mighty! As if you’re some kind of god!"
Lin Mu scoffed, pulling a wet wipe from the table beside her to clean her hands.
Then she took a dry tissue and wiped the strings of her bass.
It seemed like this was a habit she had after every performance.
"…Brother, she seems to use a lot of tissues."
Su Ling couldn’t help but comment.
Finally, she understood why Lu Qing always bought tissues in bulk, shipping them home by the box.
At first, she thought it was for cleaning up after watching maid-themed adult films, but now it seemed more likely that, like Lin Mu, he used them to wipe his hands after practicing…
Hmm.
She had misjudged him again.
She really was a pervert.
…
While the girl silently berated herself, Lin Mu, while adjusting her DSLR camera, was growing more and more uneasy—
"Something’s off."
"No, something’s not right."
"During the chorus, there was a moment where the rhythm felt a bit rushed…"
Even though the notes were correct…
From a performer’s perspective, the emotional impact in that section was slightly lacking…
Ah…
No way.
It can’t be.
No, no, no.
Could he really have ears that sharp?
It must be my imagination.
After all, his hands don’t have calluses, so he probably hasn’t played string instruments.
He’s just an *amateur*.
He must’ve been talking nonsense just to provoke me.
"…"
Though she didn’t want to admit it, the more Lin Mu thought about it, the more unsettled she became.
The more she thought, the more she felt there was something to Lu Qing’s comment!
No, no.
I really can’t let this go.
She lowered her head, pursed her lips, and silently encouraged herself:
*I need to double-check.*
"This time, I’ll record everything. Whether it’s true or not, the next song will decide the winner."
…
…
ions, keeping it grounded and realistic】 After quitting his job, office worker Su Yang accidentally binds with the "Enjoy Life System." As the name suggests, simply by indulging in life's pleasures, he can earn random rewards from the system—no need to spend money on beautiful women or grovel before anyone. Just enjoy, and the money follows, making it all about effortless fun. The system comes with a scanning feature, allowing him to establish a favorability bond with women rated 85 points or above. Every 20-point increase in favorability unlocks additional rewards. After suffering through over twenty years of hardship, Su Yang trembles with excitement, his dull eyes suddenly gleaming with newfound hope. "Enjoy life? How hard could that be?"
u Chenyuan transmigrated into a female-oriented novel about a real and fake heiress, becoming the CEO elder brother of both. Unfortunately, the entire Lu family—including himself, the CEO—were mere cannon fodder in the story. Determined to save himself, Lu Chenyuan took action. The spoiled, attention-seeking fake heiress? Thrown into the harsh realities of the working class to learn humility. The love-struck real heiress? Pushed toward academic excellence, so lofty goals would blind her to trivial romances. As for the betrayed, vengeful arranged marriage wife… the plot hadn’t even begun yet. There was still time—if he couldn’t handle her, he could at least avoid her. "CEO Lu, are you avoiding me?" Mo Qingli fixed her gaze on Lu Chenyuan. For the first time, the shrewd and calculating Lu Chenyuan felt a flicker of unease.
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...
