Chapter 67: Half-Human, Half-Demon

On stage, after the first wave of climax, Zhang Qiyang took off his sunglasses.

He revealed a pair of deep, somber eyes, as if striving to transform from a soulless puppet back into his once flesh-and-blood self:

"…That year at eighteen, at the school dance, standing like a minion…"

"…Back then, I swore through tears before you all, you must see me…"

"…There are too many ordinary, uneventful paths in this world, which building in the housing estate do you live in, how often in love and in work have we suffered neglect, self-esteem battered and trampled again and again…"

"…Being valued can stave off hunger, if you’ve never had it, you’ll know why, so many grand gestures, so many mistakes, all to make people look at me—is that pathological?..."

Zhang Qiyang’s soliloquy, with its flawless Cantonese pronunciation and deep grasp of Cantonese grammar, resonated deeply with every audience member from a Cantonese-speaking region.

Many in the audience felt an involuntary sense of resonance—one they might not wish to admit, yet could not deny.

The truth is, most of us have lived through such moments:

In some scene or another, we’ve been ignored to the extreme, our dignity battered down, just as Zhang Qiyang sang.

Then, gritting our teeth, writing in blood and tears, we swear to the heavens: One day, I will rise above it all and let the world witness my brilliance!

But by what means can you make others notice you?

Exaggeration.

No one is content with obscurity.

Everyone’s heart harbors a restless yearning.

Seeking attention through ostentation—is that pathological?

Singers and performers in the entertainment industry, listening to Zhang Qiyang sing “Exaggeration,” felt this particularly keenly.

From the very first day they entered this field, they were compelled to put on exaggerated performances, speak outlandish words, strive to surprise others, to bring the world an unexpected spectacle, to act flamboyantly, to cater to the public, all in this nearly pathological manner, to win the attention of the masses.

Such exaggeration is steeped in endless sorrow—who could understand it?

Perhaps only they themselves.

Not only in entertainment, but in every profession it is the same.

Either fade away in silent mediocrity, or find success through flamboyance.

A tree without its bark is doomed; a person without shame is invincible.

This saying becomes more relevant with each passing day.

So is it people who have fallen ill, or is it society itself?

As Zhang Qiyang sang the chorus of “Exaggeration” for the second time, his eyes radiated the resentment and hostility born of oppression by the times, and his emotional catharsis became even more intense.

He was dissecting the human heart, while also dissecting this repressive society.

He squeezed out all the light, singling out only the darkest depths, magnifying them and singing them for all to hear.

In the end, he transformed every person in the audience into the tragic figure at the heart of “Exaggeration.”

And he himself became the very embodiment of society’s excess.

He was already terminally ill, mad beyond redemption!

"…There are few lucky ones, if you’ve never been one, you’ll know why…"

"…With tenfold effort, striving to stand out—could any normal person match my notoriety?..."

"…Call me ostentatious then, I don’t fear a few hisses…"

"…If I bore you while I’m here, will you still watch my performance—is it hysterical enough?..."

"…Let my tears drench the flowers, I only want to astonish you…"

"…Did I never exist in the past? Raise the stakes, let the veins pop and show themselves, tell me—do I exist now?..."

"…Look at me, don’t just stare at the ceiling!..."

The more Zhang Qiyang sang, the more unhinged he became, his switches between head and chest voice reaching a level of near possession.

When he sang “don’t just stare at the ceiling,” his voice shattered into a pure falsetto.

To win people’s attention, he had become utterly hysterical, completely unhinged.

The lighting effects on stage became especially intense at this point.

Strobing lights played across Zhang Qiyang’s face.

His image was no longer half shadow, half light, but rather like a deranged machine, totally out of control.

"…Even if I’m not your cup of tea, drink deep all the same; don’t forget, someone is shouting hoarse for you… ah~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~!"

That final, heart-rending, ultra-high note ripped open the scars in everyone’s hearts without mercy, as well as the scars of society at large.

It tore through time and space, shredded his very self, and utterly exploded the hearts of every member of the audience!

Many were left breathless at the end, as if in the moment just before the ultimate climax, so tense they could hardly draw breath—breathing itself became a luxury.

Then, in that instant, Zhang Qiyang suddenly let out a wild, manic howl, drawing forth every ounce of heat from within the crowd.

In that instant of transcendence, he sent everyone’s spirit surging into a tidal wave of ecstasy!

That cry, like a blood-stained declaration, detonated fireworks across the sky!

Everyone was swept into a frenzy!

Countless people felt their scalps tingle.

Never before had they witnessed such a mad, brilliant performance live!

Those who had previously doubted Zhang Qiyang’s singing skills were utterly stunned, as if in a dream, by this one song.

Hearing Zhou Delin sing live for the first time was like seeing Einstein in person—you’d heard of his fame, but meeting him was exhilarating, electrifying.

But hearing Zhang Qiyang sing live for the first time was like suddenly discovering that the so-called fool often scolded around you was, in fact, even more brilliant than Einstein himself!

The shock of this revelation made many question their own existence.

Who had ever said that Master Pao’s live singing was a train wreck?

If this was a train wreck, then other singers’ live performances must be rolling in a garbage dump.

At first, some smart alecks speculated that Zhang Qiyang was lip-syncing on stage, but by the end, his torn, howling roar nearly burst the veins in his neck, his entire being radiating an unrestrained, demonic energy; the desperate, frenzied look of someone falling into madness shattered all doubts about lip-syncing.

If this was lip-syncing, then there is no such thing as real singing in the world!

Zhang Qiyang’s half-human, half-demon performance, in both voice and bearing, delivered an overwhelming impact to everyone present.

It was a forceful, inescapable shock.

After hearing this song, many felt their hearts had been torn to shreds.

This feeling was utterly different from Zhou Delin’s “On the Road.”

“On the Road” was powerful too, deeply resonant.

But it was the resonance of an old song, a predictable kind of emotion.

Zhang Qiyang’s “Exaggeration,” from the very start, exceeded all expectations.

By the end, he brought the audience to an unimaginable, shattering climax!

With this song, Zhang Qiyang transformed everyone present into a girl experiencing her first time, granting them a voice-induced climax so intense, so painful, so unforgettable, it would be etched into their memories for life.

Some girls in the crowd truly felt as if their bodies had been torn apart—Zhang Qiyang’s final, manic howl nearly made them leap out of their seats, their hearts battered by the overwhelming sound.

Watching Master Pao’s final, hell-for-leather leap as if throwing himself into a pit of fire, many young men felt their eyes dampen involuntarily.

In that instant, it was as if they saw, deep within themselves, that version of themselves who had lost their identity just to please others.

The singers backstage, still reeling from last week’s shock of Zhang Qiyang’s “Fresh Shit,” were now utterly scattered and shaken by this week’s “Exaggeration.”

Listening to this song, Li Xuan felt a persistent tightness in her chest, weighed down by its gloomy atmosphere and suppressed content.

Not until Zhang Qiyang unleashed that final, ripping howl did she feel the pent-up darkness in her chest drawn out.

It was as if ten thousand cupping jars had been pulled from her at once.

Her whole body tingled with pleasure, her waist nearly going limp.

It was an extreme sensation she had never known before.

She didn’t know if this was the legendary physical climax.

But after hearing this song, after witnessing Zhang Qiyang’s half-human, half-demon performance, Li Xuan was forced to admit a terrifying truth: Zhang Qiyang’s musical genius far surpassed anything she had ever imagined!