Chapter 30: The Emergence of Evil

9:15 p.m.

Yue Li finished her performance.

The countdown for Zhang Qiyang’s appearance was one minute.

Normally, at this point, the television cameras would cut to Zhang Qiyang waiting in the backstage corridor.

But tonight was different. The main camera stayed fixed on the host, Chen Zixuan, who was on stage introducing Zhang Qiyang’s imminent entrance—not a single shot was given to Zhang Qiyang.

This thoroughly whetted the audience’s appetite. Many people began to complain: where was the man they’d been waiting for? Why hadn’t he appeared yet?

The seven singers who had already gathered in the performers’ lounge after finishing their sets also found it odd. Why hadn’t Zhang Qiyang, the main event tonight, appeared on screen? Had something gone wrong again? Was he staging a walkout tonight?

But if that were the case, the host wouldn’t be introducing him as the next performer, would he?

What on earth was happening?

The staff in the control room were on the verge of breakdown.

It wasn’t that they didn’t want to give Zhang Qiyang screen time—they simply couldn’t!

From the moment Zhang Qiyang left his dressing room, every staff member who saw him was shocked out of their wits. In all their years in television, they’d never encountered an artist quite so outlandish.

On such a solemn, grand occasion, this man... had actually painted his face with a terrifying zombie’s makeup!

A few female staff backstage, catching sight of him unexpectedly, were so frightened they nearly screamed, thinking they’d seen a ghost.

At that moment, Zhang Qiyang’s makeup was more horrific than any ghost.

It was as if a clown played by Heath Ledger from another world had crossed into this dimension—Zhang Qiyang’s deathly pale face and bloody mouth, his cold and sinister expression, sent chills down everyone’s spine.

Qin Xueyang, who had been forced by Zhang Qiyang to apply the makeup, watched him from the side with a shudder creeping through her heart. She couldn’t understand what on earth had gotten into this young master, why he’d insisted on such a look!

He wasn’t going to sing—he was going to scare people!

Chen Ke, who had planned to encourage Zhang Qiyang in the backstage corridor, was rendered speechless at the sight of his appearance. She stood there as if struck by lightning, her mind a stampede of a thousand llamas, with only three words left in her heart: This—is—bad!

This troublemaker was about to make a scene again! Did he have brains in his head, or something else entirely? Why did he always insist on being so unconventional? Was he only happy when he was causing trouble for others?

Chen Ke was on the verge of a meltdown herself, desperately wishing she could kick Zhang Qiyang out of the television station.

In the control room, Luo Tao and the others were equally exasperated.

They simply couldn’t understand why Zhang Qiyang had chosen such makeup! Granted, the piece he was performing tonight told the story of a playboy’s self-destruction under public scrutiny, and the makeup had a certain performative art quality. But did he really have to take it this far? This was just plain terrifying! Who would want to watch him sing like this? This wasn’t a cult rock concert. His appearance alone would scare off half the audience!

Luo Tao was increasingly regretting his decision to let Zhang Qiyang remain on the show. To be saddled with such a troublemaker, he must have been cursed for generations!

Only when Chen Zixuan finished introducing Zhang Qiyang’s upcoming, highly distinctive performance—"This Is the New Shit"—and Zhang Qiyang was forced to appear, did Luo Tao grit his teeth and order the director to cut to him. Yet they didn’t dare show a close-up, for fear of shocking the audience too much. The camera cut to a long shot.

Zhang Qiyang, dressed in black, stood with his head slightly bowed at the edge of the dimly lit stage, like a harbinger of death casting a mocking gaze over the ignorant masses before him.

Thinking back on the days of relentless public hatred, recalling how the original Zhang Qiyang had been judged through a lens of prejudice, a dark fire began to rise within him—

Isn’t this what you wanted? Music as rotten as filth? To see the worst of me?

Here I am.

Are you satisfied now? Do you dare look me in the eye?

Amid the uproar, radiating the arrogance and confidence of one who has returned from hell itself, Zhang Qiyang walked expressionlessly onto the stage.

A roar erupted from the audience!

Viewers at home were even more stunned!

No one could have imagined that Zhang Qiyang would take to the stage of "My Song" with such an outrageous, sinister face!

Zhang Qiyang’s social media and the show’s forum exploded simultaneously!

His haters were driven mad with fury! Some had previously taken money to slander him, but now, in this moment, their outrage was utterly sincere. In their eyes, Zhang Qiyang was a lunatic! To show such contempt for the "My Song" stage, for the audience itself—such a person deserved to be cursed until he exploded on the spot!

Even his diehard fans found it hard to accept. Though he’d played with performance art before, it was always in special contexts. To appear on such a formal stage in this getup—this was beyond words! Wasn’t he just out to frighten children?

Of course, a small group of his most extreme fans, seeing Zhang Qiyang’s dark and defiant entrance, went wild with admiration—

"This is the Zhang Qiyang we love! No matter how badly you sing tonight, I’ll give you ten thousand likes!"

"Tremble, idiots! The boss is here!"

"Zhang Qiyang, I give you 73 points for your look tonight! The remaining 27 points I’ll send to you in 999s—you’re off the charts!"

"I want to join your cult, Zhang Qiyang!"

"Hand on my heart, you’ve never been this badass before!"

"Zhang Qiyang is the king!"

—But only a handful of extreme fans offered such praise.

Most people simply couldn’t accept Zhang Qiyang’s appearance.

A torrent of furious posts flooded the show’s forum—

"Damn you, Zhang the Cannon! Is this your so-called ‘unprecedented shit’? You owe me new eyes!"

"What the hell, are you trying to give everyone nightmares? You’ve gone too far tonight!"

"Zhang the Cannon, I’m begging you—just leave ‘My Song’ already! I’ll get on my knees if you’ll just go!"

"You think being an idiot is a personality trait? That’s you all over, Zhang the Cannon!"

"Are you out of your mind? Showing us this at night—may you never know peace, Zhang the Cannon!"

"Now I know what you mean by ‘unprecedented shit’—you’ve turned yourself into a pile of crap and are singing garbage to disgust us! Has there ever been anyone more bizarre than you? Get off the show!"

"I must be blind to have watched your performance. I’m the real idiot!"

"I’m going to sue you, Zhang the Cannon! You owe me for my mental anguish!"

"Damn you, Zhang the Cannon, you made my daughter cry!"

"Can anyone tell me if there’s a bigger idiot in the world than Zhang the Cannon? Is there?"

"You can’t sing—could you at least have a better attitude? How am I supposed to tolerate you like this?"

"Ha, ‘unprecedented shit’—it sure is! I doubt there’ll ever be anything like it again."

"Everyone, turn off your TVs—this idiot has already polluted our eyes, don’t let him pollute our ears too!"

"Zhang the Cannon, you’re ruthless! I want to see what kind of new garbage you’ll sing looking like this!"

...

Backstage in the singers’ lounge.

Seeing Zhang Qiyang’s stage look tonight, the seven singers fell silent.

In that moment, they truly experienced firsthand the extremes and madness of this young master of wealth.

To appear like this on such a stage—who could believe he wasn’t insane?

What bad luck, to be stuck with such a weirdo for this season of "My Song"!

Alongside their confusion and frustration, they were genuinely curious—just what kind of piece was Zhang Qiyang about to perform?

Even if his song were a masterpiece, could it possibly justify this look? Unless the world’s greatest cult heavy metal band had come to perform, nothing could carry off such an image.

What right did Zhang Qiyang have?

To dare appear like this—tonight’s performance was surely doomed!

The uproar among the audience refused to die down.

Usually, when a singer took the stage, the crowd would offer warm applause.

But faced with Zhang Qiyang’s look tonight, their hands froze—no one wanted to clap for him.

Yet after the initial shock, many of the younger audience members found their curiosity piqued.

Seeing such a look in person, rather than on TV, was an entirely different experience. They could feel, up close, the chilling aura radiating from Zhang Qiyang.

After the angelic voices of the previous singers, suddenly, here was a terrifyingly unconventional performer—a “horror flow” singer—whose presence jolted their weary minds back to life.

Many young eyes sparkled; it was as if they were witnessing a cult concert firsthand. They were eager to see what kind of dark storm Zhang Qiyang, with such a sinister and audacious appearance, would bring to the stage of "My Song" tonight!