Chapter Ninety-Three: The Turning of Day and Night

The people of Xi'an felt a surge of vindication when they heard Zhang Qiyang sing that final line. Many Xi'an residents who had long disliked him were even tempted to send in support votes by text message.

Unfortunately, the show had already disabled text voting; only the live audience could decide the outcome of his performance.

The people in the venue, as well as viewers from outside the Xi'an area, were finally stirred by that finishing stroke into taking real interest.

He even dared to throw down the gauntlet to the goddess of the strings and the stage—indeed, the wild man was still the wild man.

In the singers' lounge, hearing Zhang Qiyang sing while provoking her, Li Xuan's bright eyes lit up, and she smiled with striking beauty.

She had not expected him to pull such a move.

It was like a master duel suddenly unsheathing his blade: unexpectedly brilliant.

Was he doing it on purpose?

Whether or not he had meant it, one had to admit that final line hit with exhilarating force.

There was another woman who thought Zhang Qiyang's last line had been sung with exceptional brilliance and edge.

That was Zhang Qiyuan, watching the livestream in a villa in the capital.

Over this period she had been busy with the group's work, and had already missed the live broadcasts of the last two episodes. Still, she always went back to watch Zhang Qiyang's performances.

She had been keeping a constant eye on her younger brother's every move.

Chen Ke also reported to Zhang Qiyuan from time to time, giving her a rough account of what Zhang Qiyang had been busy with lately.

Just last week, Chen Ke had spoken with Zhang Qiyuan on the phone for more than an hour, telling her everything she had observed and heard about Zhang Qiyang's changes over this period.

Chen Ke specifically mentioned that after that severe bout of stomach trouble and illness, Zhang Qiyang's mindset had changed dramatically.

In Chen Ke's view, Zhang Qiyang no longer seemed as world-weary as before, nor as bitter toward the world.

Though his recent works were still somewhat extreme, one could clearly see that a rebirth-like transformation was taking place within him.

Zhang Qiyuan had long been watching his every move, and she too could feel that he had changed lately.

After hearing Chen Ke say that Zhang Qiyang no longer disgusted himself, Zhang Qiyuan was quite pleased.

She could imagine him gradually emerging from the shadow cast by their mother's death.

At the same time, the artistic gift blooming within him was growing ever more dazzling.

During this time Zhang Qiyang had produced many classic works, and Chen Ke had casually tried to probe Zhang Qiyuan: had the group quietly brought in some master expert to guide him from behind the scenes?

Of course Zhang Qiyuan said no. To her knowledge, after Zhang Zhenhua had spoken, no one in the Eastern Group now dared interfere in Zhang Qiyang's affairs.

Aside from herself secretly lending her younger brother a hand with their father's tacit approval, no one else dared get involved with Zhang Qiyang in the slightest, for fear of inviting trouble.

In other words, every achievement Zhang Qiyang had today was won entirely through his own efforts.

Zhang Qiyuan was rather proud of him for that.

That night, after listening to Zhang Qiyang sing The County of Long-Press, Zhang Qiyuan felt even more keenly that his artistic talent had been inherited from their mother, to an almost unbelievable degree.

At first, when she heard the song, she only felt warmth and comfort, relieved that her younger brother had not been wholly molded by a world driven by material desire, and that within him still remained a precious trace of innocence.

When she heard the line about the girls in the County of Long-Press not being pretty, Zhang Qiyuan gave a helpless smile.

She felt he had deliberately sung that line for her.

As a girl from the County of Long-Press herself, she really was not especially beautiful.

Even the most flattering people had never called her pretty.

It is often said that boys take after their mothers in appearance, while girls take after their fathers.

That rule fit their family perfectly.

Zhang Qiyang looked very much like their mother: pronounced features, a sharply defined face, a cool and handsome presence, and he had inherited their mother's artistic sensibility as well.

Zhang Qiyuan, by contrast, had taken after their father entirely: a broad face, small eyes, a flat nose, practically a life-sized terracotta warrior.

Though she was not attractive, Zhang Qiyuan had inherited her father's practical spirit, quick thinking, and ability to see through appearances to the essence of things. Her insight was exceptional.

That night, listening to Zhang Qiyang sing The County of Long-Press, she realized after only one hearing that he was not merely singing about the county itself, but about a vanished feeling.

The County of Long-Press today no longer resembled the one in Zhang Qiyang's song, unchanged through all those years.

It had long since become unrecognizable.

The sky over the County of Long-Press was no longer a clear blue; it had been trapped beneath a veil of haze.

All those sunny, simple, beautiful things Zhang Qiyang sang of had already vanished forever.

It was not only the County of Long-Press that had suffered such a fate. In many other places, in the hometowns of countless others, the same ruthless crushing had taken place amid the march of urbanization.

What Zhang Qiyang could now render was only a beautiful, nostalgic utopia.

He was not praising beauty; he was mourning it.

This made it clear that Zhang Qiyang's heart had indeed changed.

In the previous few years, Zhang Qiyang had always seemed to live in a dark world, heavy with clouds.

But singing The County of Long-Press, Zhang Qiyuan could feel the sunlight in his heart already piercing through the gloom, moving toward a brighter and more radiant horizon.

Zhang Qiyuan's artistic discernment was truly remarkable. The song The County of Long-Press bore the same subtle kinship to New Bride Street: it sang of a specific place, but even more, of a state of feeling.

When Zhang Qiyang finally sang that line aimed at Li Xuan, with its playful provocation, Zhang Qiyuan felt that he had already won.

Although Li Xuan's new rendition of "Kitchen Knife," entitled Penghu Bay, was also deeply moving, Zhang Qiyuan simply felt that her younger brother's The County of Long-Press was richer in sentiment.

Still, her opinion did not count; it was up to the live audience to decide the winner and loser for this song.

After Zhang Qiyang proudly sang, "You have Penghu Bay, and I have the County of Long-Press," the music onstage gradually came to an end.

Just as everyone had begun to feel a spark of interest, they suddenly realized that Zhang Qiyang's performance was already about to finish, and were greatly surprised.

It had only been a little over two minutes since he stepped onto the stage. How could it be over so quickly?

After a brief blank space in the music, the stage lighting changed abruptly.

Countless beams of light converged on Zhang Qiyang.

A surging, metallic melody tore through the air.

Just as the audience's spirits were raised, Zhang Qiyang's hard-edged rock with its Guanzhong accent slammed straight into them.

It blew apart everyone's eardrums.

Long live the night of Chang'an! You melt the sentiment sealed in my heart for a thousand years...

Long live the night of Chang'an! In the wheel of reincarnation, the heart will know no more incompleteness...

Long live the night of Chang'an! Who understands the ancient rhymes of your annotations!...

Long live the night of Chang'an! My night!...

This sudden storm of rock overturned day and night, and time itself. It set the blood racing.

The sunlit County of Long-Press, which had only moments ago seemed so bright and warm, now gave way to night and day reversing under the assault of a metallic tempest. Zhang Qiyang presented to all before them, in domineering splendor, a nostalgic night in Chang'an with wind and fury at its core.

At that moment, every sense in the audience experienced an exhilarating thrill.

When Zhang Qiyang unleashed his voice in metal, the overwhelming pressure of sound that swept away everything left only one feeling in the venue: sheer satisfaction.