134: Chapter 134 When the suona sounds, it's either ascension to heaven or a wedding ceremony.

Teacher He held the microphone and walked slowly to the center of the stage.

"The final four competition officially begins."

"First, let us welcome Zhang Yihan."

All the stage lights were extinguished, leaving only a single cold white overhead light shining straight down.

Zhang Yihan stood in the beam of light, her exaggerated smoky makeup making her entire face look deathly pale.

The accompaniment music began.

Kong-kong.

Kong-kong-kong.

The low-frequency sound of a synthesizer seeped out from the speakers on all sides, as if something was slowly crawling beneath the stage.

The audience in the front row rubbed their forearms as a chill shot up their spines.

The temperature of the entire venue dropped along with that musical accompaniment.

Zhang Yihan began to sing, her voice low, dragging out long trailing notes, every word seemingly sinking downwards.

This Arrangement by Thomas pushed the emotional oppression to the extreme—

Each layer heavier than the last, making people afraid to breathe loudly.

The Livestream Room was flooded with a sea of white bullet comments.

[Good heavens, my back went numb as soon as this accompaniment started.]

[Thomas truly lives up to his reputation for 'gloomy' music; the atmosphere is maxed out.]

[How can Shen Nian fight this? She's at a disadvantage with this style.]

Four minutes later, the stage lights gradually dimmed.

The entire venue remained silent for a full five seconds.

Then scattered applause began, eventually swelling into a single wave.

On the judges' panel, Heavenly King Zhou took the initiative to speak: "This Arrangement is too mature. Even top producers in Europe and America who specialize in dark-themed music are only at this level."

Tang Yingxue nodded: "The song selection is precise, the Arrangement is restrained, and the emotions are laid out perfectly. For the theme of 'Sadness', she has submitted a fairly perfect answer."

With the approval of the three judges raining down, Zhang Yihan bowed slightly on stage, her smile appropriate.

On the monitor in the backstage lounge, Zhang Yihan's performance had just ended.

Zhou Yutong clenched her hands together, her palms covered in sweat.

"Brother Fan, this accompaniment is too eerie. It's giving me the creeps just listening to it."

Jiang Fan held a paper cup and drank some water, staring at the screen without saying a word.

To be fair, this Thomas has some real talent.

— —

Teacher He went on stage, his voice carrying a hint of caution.

"Thank you, Zhang Yihan, for that wonderful performance! Next, let's have a round of applause for—Shen Nian!"

The lights in the entire venue were extinguished once again.

This time, it was even more thorough than before.

It was pitch black, with only the exit signs glowing with a faint, eerie green light.

The audience could only vaguely see a dark shadow on the stage.

They couldn't see the clothes clearly, nor could they discern the face.

"Snap."

A beam of light fell.

It was blood-red.

The beam of light hit the exact center of the stage, cutting that person out from the darkness.

The entire audience gasped.

Shen Nian stood there.

Dressed in a bright red wedding gown.

It wasn't the kind of cheap costume from an opera stage, but a genuine traditional Chinese wedding gown.

Bright red satin, with a phoenix embroidered in gold thread coiled on the lapel, tassels hanging from the cuffs, and the skirt trailing on the ground, spreading out for nearly a meter.

She wore a gold hairpin with dangling ornaments on her head, her long hair coiled up, revealing a section of her snow-white nape.

Her makeup was no longer the light makeup she used to wear.

A touch of crimson at the corners of her eyes, her lips a true red, and a dot of cinnabar between her eyebrows.

The audience was in complete chaos.

The buzzing sound of discussion rose uncontrollably.

"Isn't it supposed to be 'Sadness'? Why is she wearing a wedding gown?"

"Did they get it wrong? This is a 'Joy' theme!"

The Livestream Room bullet comments went wild—

[??????????]

[What is the production team doing? Did they wear the wrong clothes?]

[A bright red wedding gown for 'Sadness'? What kind of approach is this? I don't get it at all.]

[Don't rush, if it's produced by Jiang Fan, just wait and see.]

In the backstage lounge, Zhou Yutong had her mouth open, unable to close it for a long time.

"Is... is this the outfit from that clothing bag?"

Jiang Fan threw the paper cup into the trash can, hands in his pockets, his gaze never leaving the monitor.

On the screen, the girl in red stood in the center of the stage, motionless.

Her facial expression was hollow, deathly silent, and desolate.

This expression was completely disconnected from the festive wedding gown she wore.

On the judges' panel, Tang Yingxue frowned.

Heavenly King Zhou tilted his head and said something to Producer Chen Kexin, but Producer Chen Kexin shook his head; he didn't understand it either.

On stage.

Shen Nian had her hands folded in front of her, her eyelids lowered.

Quiet.

The red light stretched her shadow long, casting it onto the black curtain behind her.

Five seconds.

Ten seconds.

The audience began to get restless.

She hadn't started singing yet, so why was it a bit creepy?

An indescribable sense of eeriness spread throughout the venue.

The big screen behind slowly lit up, displaying a huge character.

" 囍".

The music began.

It was an erhu.

The first note from the bow was sharp, piercing, like fingernails scratching against glass.

One-third of the entire audience got goosebumps.

Immediately after, the sounds of the pipa, guqin, and woodblock intertwined and entered.

Shen Nian raised her head.

She walked toward the microphone stand and reached out to take the microphone.

Her movements were extremely slow, her skirt dragging on the ground with a faint rustling sound.

She raised the microphone to her lips.

The first sentence she sang.

"The eighteenth of the first lunar month, an auspicious day, the sorghum is carried—"

"Carrying the red bridal attire, one foot of fabric for every inch of hatred, cut in haste—"

This was Opera-style vocal technique blended into pop music; some had done it before, but most were neither fish nor fowl.

Wait, that's not the point!!!

The eighteenth of the first lunar month? An auspicious day?

For the audience who understood folklore, a chill rose directly from the soles of their feet to the top of their heads.

Someone couldn't help but scream out loud.

This " 囍" — it was a ghost wedding.

The Livestream Room bullet comments were instantly drowned in fear—

[Holy crap! The eighteenth of the first lunar month is an ominous day! You can't get married on this day!]

[A ghost wedding! This is a ghost wedding!]

[I'm numb, listening to this in the middle of the night, I don't dare go to the bathroom!]

[Jiang Fan, you madman! You call this 'Sadness'? This is hellish!]

[Help, that erhu playing has scared the soul out of me.]

Shen Nian had completely merged into the song.

She raised her hand, forming an orchid gesture with her fingers, her eyes filled with sorrow.

The next second, the ceremonial drums sounded.

The entire music became urgent instantly.

Shen Nian suddenly looked up, her eyes staring straight at the audience.

"Listen, three miles away at the hour of the rabbit, it flips over—"

"Tonal patterns, the sound of horse hooves rises, cutting through the sorrow—"

"No sooner said than done, push the door open, the fog comes on its own—"

"But he ignores it, who cares—"

"Just now, the groom laughed—"

The audience below was so scared they kept swallowing hard.

In the backstage lounge, Zhou Yutong shrank into the corner of the sofa, covering half her face with a cushion, not daring to look at the screen.

"Brother Fan... weren't you scared when you wrote this song?"

On the screen, Shen Nian's voice turned into a murmur, carrying an eerie, desolate beauty.

"The groom laughed and pondered for a long time—"

"Only humming a tune of the sorrow of parting—"

The beat grew faster and faster.

"She was crying while smiling—"

"Guess how she was crying while smiling, crying—"

"Look at how she was smiling while crying—"

Just at this moment.

The sound of the suona rang out.

High-pitched, sharp, the sound of the suona pierced through everything, exploding across the entire venue.

Of all instruments, the suona is king.

When it sounds, it's either ascending to heaven or getting married.

At that moment, the breathing of a thousand people stopped.

"First bow to Heaven and Earth—"

"Second bow to the parents—"

"Husband and wife bow to each other—"

On the judges' panel, Heavenly King Zhou sprang up from his chair.

Tang Yingxue leaned back into her chair, her lips tightly pressed together, looking at the scene before her in disbelief.

Shen Nian spun in the red light, her skirt sweeping across the floor, the gold thread flickering in the light.

Her voice rose and fell, one moment the gentle murmur of a new bride, the next the shrill, desolate wail of a ghost—

Two types of vocal lines switched seamlessly in the same person.

Someone in the audience began to cry. Infected by that extreme desolation.

The number of viewers in the Livestream Room soared from 23 million to 36 million.

The speed of the bullet comments was so fast that individual messages couldn't be read; only a white blur could be seen scrolling upwards.

[Can you not play this song in the middle of the night ahhh my roommate was scared awake by me]

[Chinese folk music is just that awesome, I won't accept any counterarguments!]

[I'll say something unpleasant—this is not a battle on the same level.]

Shen Nian's voice gradually receded, returning to the initial low, hoarse murmur.

"The eighteenth of the first lunar month, this auspicious day—"

"The eighteenth of the first lunar month, this auspicious day—"

The voice stopped here.

She closed her lips, a tear slid from the corner of her left eye, hitting the lapel of her bright red wedding gown.

The entire venue went black.

All lights were extinguished at the same second.

In the darkness, only the trailing note of the suona circled under the dome of the venue, lingering for a long time.