Chapter 26: The Song King of Hong Kong

7:30 in the evening.

Half an hour before the official start of the live broadcast.

The singers arrived one by one in the singers’ lounge, exchanging pleasantries and chatting as they waited for the show to begin.

Originally, the production team had anticipated that Zhang Qiyang would be eliminated last week, and had planned to invite a highly accomplished replacement singer, thus maintaining the seven-contestant format.

However, Zhang Qiyang’s mysterious first-place finish last week threw a wrench in their Plan A.

They had no choice but to proceed with Plan B: invite the replacement singer anyway, resulting in eight singers competing on stage.

To ensure each singer had enough time to perform, the show had to trim some less important segments. For example, the part where the singers usually discussed and critiqued last week’s performances at the start was cut.

This week would begin with the drawing of performance order, followed immediately by the intense competition segment.

The newly invited replacement singer this week was Zhou Delin, a leading figure among the mid-generation artists from Hong Kong.

At thirty-six, Zhou Delin was a powerhouse in the Hong Kong music scene. In terms of skill and fame, he easily outclassed most of the current contestants—only Li Xuan could be considered his equal.

Back in the early planning stages of this season’s “My Song,” the producers had envisioned a showdown between Zhou Delin and Li Xuan—the king and the queen—vying for the season’s crown.

But because the show was broadcast live, with no pre-recorded episodes or flexible scheduling, Zhou Delin’s prior commitments to a world tour made it impossible for him to join from the start.

Thus, Zhou Delin missed the early episodes and could only appear as a replacement.

The other singers had long known that Zhou Delin would be joining this round, and none dared to take the arrival of such a superstar lightly.

Everyone had prepared thoroughly for this week; no one wanted Zhou Delin to steal the spotlight as soon as he appeared.

Li Xuan, especially, was burning with fighting spirit—her stage image was sensual and striking, and she had painstakingly selected a piece with powerful live impact. She was determined to claim this week’s championship and gain the upper hand in her first encounter with Zhou Delin.

It was clear to all discerning eyes that this season’s “My Song” would ultimately be a battle between Li Xuan and Zhou Delin.

From this very first clash, Li Xuan was intent on sending Zhou Delin a strong warning.

Such a mindset showed that, before Zhou Delin, Li Xuan still lacked complete confidence.

And it was understandable.

Zhou Delin’s status and singing style in this world’s music scene closely resembled Eason Chan’s from another world—a true master at the pinnacle of the craft.

Zhou Delin had been a star for over a decade, with far deeper experience than Li Xuan, who had only recently shot to fame as the new queen of pop.

But in terms of current popularity, Zhou Delin might not surpass Li Xuan.

Li Xuan was the top artist promoted by Eastern Entertainment, with far more resources and connections on the mainland than Zhou Delin.

A Hong Kong superstar like Zhou Delin, who lacked significant ties in the mainland, might have dominated in years past, but the entertainment landscape had changed. Hong Kong singers no longer necessarily overshadowed their mainland counterparts.

Still, a star of Zhou Delin’s stature was never easy to defeat.

If Li Xuan could surpass Zhou Delin, she would cement her status as the new queen of the Chinese music scene.

Her goal in joining “My Song” this season was to defeat Zhou Delin and claim the crown.

Eastern Entertainment was pooling all its resources and strength behind her, determined to cast her in gold.

Even before this week’s “My Song” aired, her team was raring to go.

They were ready from afar to ensure Li Xuan would be crowned champion this week—they could not allow her to lose the opening round.

But just before the show began, they were caught off guard by an announcement from Director Luo Tao: due to a technical upgrade, the SMS voting channel for “My Song” would be suspended this week!

From this episode onward, the singers’ fates would be decided entirely by the live audience!

Both this and the next episode would use live audience voting to determine the rankings.

The decision came so abruptly that the singers were stunned, and the agents and team members watching nearby began to whisper among themselves.

Everyone understood that the production team did this to “prevent” Zhang Qiyang from racking up more votes.

It was awkward.

Singers and managers all glanced furtively at Zhang Qiyang, curious to see the reaction of the so-called “vote king.”

Yet Zhang Qiyang’s expression did not change; he remained as steady as a mountain, his face stern, as if nothing around him concerned him.

He knew that the other stars wanted nothing to do with him and that there was a sense of quiet resistance toward him.

Even Li Xuan, seated right next to him, kept a very careful distance.

People would greet him with forced smiles, but after that, no one dared speak to him—no one even bothered to ask if he had recovered physically.

So he ignored everyone as well, sitting off to the side like air, waiting for the recording to begin.

At that moment, the many glances cast his way made Zhang Qiyang rather uncomfortable.

But he could understand—the production team was doing this for the good of the show.

If he were the director of “My Song,” facing such a precarious situation, he’d have shut down the SMS voting too.

Still, announcing it at this moment made it feel like a slap in the face!

Very well, then! If you show me no mercy, don’t blame me for showing none in return!

Zhang Qiyang made up his mind: tonight, he would unleash his full power and blow the roof off the stage of “My Song!”

The production team’s decision, in truth, was made out of necessity.

Last week’s voting results for “My Song” had sparked a wave of outrage among viewers.

Although Zhang Qiyang had brought the show unprecedented buzz and record ratings, the team grew increasingly uneasy with Eastern Entertainment’s aggressive voting tactics.

Earlier in the week, Eastern Network had released Zhang Qiyang’s single, and the data had been pushed to ridiculous heights, once again fuelling public anger. The “My Song” team, determined to learn their lesson, decided to act first—no more voting manipulation on their watch.

Even though the SMS system had since been upgraded to block automated votes, for safety’s sake, they decided to close the channel entirely.

Some within the team even proposed never reopening SMS voting.

While viewer voting increased engagement and loyalty with the show, remote votes didn’t accurately reflect the singers’ live performances.

Even without vote manipulation, TV audience voting was highly biased.

Singers with large fanbases—like Li Xuan—would always enjoy a major advantage, no matter how they performed on stage.

Even if she sang off-key or had a disastrous show, her diehard fans would still vote for her.

Just like last week, when her performance was clearly inferior to several others, yet she still finished third in total support—a blatant unfairness.

If SMS voting continued, there would be no point in comparing live singing skills; it would simply be a contest of fanbase size and popularity.

Only by closing the SMS channel and letting a randomly selected, diverse live audience decide could the singers’ true performances be judged fairly.