Chapter 607: The Young Hero Strides In Song, Comes and Goes

If Zhou Yi's mockery and definition on the show only made Yuan Li furious, then James Wong's unexpected appearance completely drove her into a rage.

Most crucially, James Wong beat everyone to it and set the tone for Zhou Yi's album—

As a towering figure of the Chinese music scene, his opinion couldn't be called featherweight — at the very least it carried decisive weight.

"Damn it, wasn't this old bastard already dead?! Why the hell is he popping up now?!"

Yuan Li grabbed her hair, her eyes fixed dead on this copy of Ming Pao, the whites shot through with veins visible to the naked eye—

From fury.

She could try to use her seniority and channels back home to pressure Zhou Yi, but she had no way to pressure James Wong.

Or rather, she had no way to deal with James Wong.

Find people in the music circle to oppose him?

Who could oppose him?

Or rather, whose objection could match James Wong's?

"Xu Qingliang, find a few more people from the music world — anyone who wants buzz or fame — and do everything you can to smear Zhou Yi. I'll go find cultural relic authentication experts back home and use their professional knowledge to hammer Zhou Yi dead on the mistakes in 'Mo Qinghua'."

The two, brought together by this flame war, began their secret scheming.

And online, James Wong's piece of analysis quickly spread like wildfire—

The Peking University BBS, which had been battling to the peak moments ago, was now left with nothing but cries of "Holy shit."

"No way, did this bastard Zhou Yi really think it through like that?"

"It's true — I'm the tapeworm in Zhou Yi's brain! I can testify!"

"Setting aside whether it's performative or not, the three ancient parts of the I Ching really do address the individual, society, and the nation. Zhou Yi absolutely did this on purpose — the albums echo each other. Badass."

"This should be the first time in the music scene anyone's done this, right? Using four albums to tell his understanding of the world, and forming a conceptual closed loop…"

"Without him this country wouldn't be standing — why can't we commemorate him? Zhou Yi, commemorate him hard for me! I'm with you!"

"To be fair, setting everything else aside, the songs really are good. I quite like 'The Scars of War' — those lyrics are absolutely killer. If 'Mo Qinghua' is like poetry and painting, then 'The Scars of War' is absolutely penetrating to the bone."

"Zhou Yi's Hong Kong concert tomorrow — he'll probably sing new songs, right? So jealous of the people in Hong Kong, they caught it. No idea when the mainland will get a turn."

"The mainland gets one too, in December — but it's in Zhou Yi's hometown Shangrao."

"Day 224 of wanting to see Zhou Yi's concert…"

Although there were still dissenting voices, the fact was that the other songs on Zhou Yi's A-side — especially the lyrics of 'The Scars of War' — were indeed a weapon that could swiftly touch the hearts of most literary-minded listeners and those with strong empathy.

And with James Wong's analysis on top of that, the U. S. had indeed drawn universal outrage over the Iraq War and become the target of a thousand pointing fingers. The opposition on the BBS couldn't really keep running their mouths — Zhou Yi had filmed the Iraqi footage right in for you to see; it's too heartbreaking even to look.

Especially the footage of the children.

As for turning their attacks on 'Mo Qinghua' — among the people on the Peking University BBS, basically no one bothered. One, they were a generation that chased novelty anyway: in 'A Chinese Odyssey' the White Bone Demon gets to have a romance with Sun Wukong, and it still won their devotion and, through their analysis, turned that box-office flop into a hit;

Two, these high-achievers still understood the kind of imagery and descriptive technique used in the lyrics of 'Mo Qinghua'.

Who hasn't scribbled some bullshit metaphors in their essays?

You just don't get the romance of liberal arts kids.

The four major portal sites — Sohu, NetEase, Tencent, and Sina — directly published James Wong's analysis, along with Zhou Yi's album sales report, doing their utmost to shape netizens' thinking.

However, on the Peking University BBS, Zhou Yi's side and the casual listeners' side were gradually gaining the upper hand. But in the traditional media channels, every single person who felt they'd been called a colonial subject was so angry their temples were buzzing—

When you hit a man, don't hit his face; when you curse a man, don't dig up his shortcomings.

"Then I'll write that Zhou Yi is suspected of being blacklisted."

"I'll write that Zhou Yi, as a public figure, has failed to set a moral example."

"I'll write that his sales figures are suspected of being faked."

"I'll write…"

On the 30th, with the publication of several daily newspaper articles, the wind on the mainland began to drift in a strange direction—

"An Idol Unworthy? Zhou Yi's Seven Deadly Sins!"

"Zhou Yi's New Album Sales Questioned — Well-Known Expert Says the Numbers Show Signs of Being Watered Down"

"As everyone knows, sales projections follow a standard model. And Zhou Yi's new album sales curve clearly deviates from that model — there is undoubtedly a risk of the numbers being watered down…"

"…"

Because the mainland couldn't watch the concert, these news pieces clearly grabbed plenty of eyeballs. Meanwhile, Hong Kong netizens were mostly discussing the start of Zhou Yi's Hong Kong concert that night—

"Politics aside, there's one line I think Zhou Yi said pretty coolly — that one about being born stubborn and unable to learn to bend."

"He was tough, for real — but isn't he actually afraid of being blacklisted?"

"He's already made enough money, right? Whether he gets blacklisted or not doesn't matter — he who desires nothing is unbreakable."

"Damn, he really is carefree — does whatever he wants, says whatever he wants, and doesn't have to worry about making a living."

"Then won't tonight's concert possibly be his last before he leaves the scene?"

Hong Kong, the 30th, 7:20 p. m., Hung Hom.

Deng Shiying, who had entered the venue early after ticket check, listened to the whispered chatter of die-hard fans at her idol's side, and on her taut little face a touch of unease surfaced—

At 7:30 p. m., the Hong Kong stop of the "Star World Tour" officially kicked off.

This time, contrary to his usual style, Zhou Yi did not open with a hot dance number. Instead, as the lights dimmed inside the vast Hung Hom, something like a priest's murmur filled the air. Combined with the stage lighting atmosphere, it was mysterious, sacred.

When the iconic female vocal chant of the intro rang out, Deng Shiying felt her skull practically shaken buzzing by the screams of the girl beside her.

Accompanied by a soft Italian murmur, Zhou Yi — standing on a cross in a full suit, arms outstretched against the cross — slowly descended from above—

This was the first time since the album's release that Zhou Yi had sung "In the Name of the Father" at a concert, and he had used it as a mysterious opener.

Whether it was the Jesus-cross-style descent from the sky or the on-site stage lighting, everything grew increasingly uncanny as the song deepened.

Plenty of the Hong Kong entertainment circle's male and female artists in the front rows gaped, then immediately covered their mouths, whispering to each other.

"Zhou Yi!"

"Zhou Yi!!"

"Zhou Yi!!!"

Magenta glow sticks were waved by the more than ten thousand fans in the venue, their unified cheers loud enough to pierce straight through the arena and into the clouds!

When the song ended, Zhou Yi, who had given a gentleman's bow to the audience, flashed a grin: "Welcome, everyone, to my first Hong Kong Hung Hom concert. I have to say, holding one on your own stage really does feel different — way better than being a guest for Elva."

A roar of laughter rose from below the stage.

Although he had been debuting for quite some time now, holding a concert at Hung Hom was indeed still a first for Zhou Yi — before this, he had only ever been a guest performer.

"Zhou Yi! Keep going! We'll always be right here by your side!"

The sisters in the front row, clearly Hong Kong's self-established fan club, seized the moment to shout a line at the top of their lungs, and once she was done, the section she led suddenly hoisted up the support slogan that had been with Zhou Yi since his very debut —

Why does it sound oddly tragic and heroic? It's not like anything happened to him at all.

"Ok, so the next two songs — they should also be my first time performing them at a concert. Hope you like them." Adjusting the position of his in-ear monitor, Zhou Yi smiled and raised a hand —

"Killer," "Can You Feel My World."

After singing these two songs, Zhou Yi finally wrapped up the dark-themed opening arrangement —

For this Hong Kong concert's setlist, because he had released a new album, he had shuffled his album order compared to past concerts.

Starting with a dark theme, he stood on the concept of his third album "Lianshan" and let it extend, transitioning step by step from society and family to a gradually brightening individual, and finally to national war.

The viral English songs like "Baby," "Yeah," and Chinese songs like "Fairy Tale," "Jiang Nan," "Qi Li Xiang," "Back to Back Hug," "Da Cheng Xiao Ai" were all placed in the middle personal segment.

This was also the most hyped segment of the entire show.

Over the course of the whole show, Zhou Yi, bouncing and jumping the entire time, had already changed into ten outfits, and by the time the last song on the setlist was sung, the fans — knowing there was no more time — couldn't help but feel a little reluctant to part.

The song used to close the show, "A Snap of the Fingers," also symbolized how the concert had passed "in the snap of a finger," and the fans' fervent singing gave this new song a brand-new vitality.

Following the convention set after the Shanghai show, the final song was that tune, "Glory."

On stage, after gulping down several big mouthfuls of water and pouring the last half bottle straight over his own head, Zhou Yi shook his head hard, wiped his face, tugged at the collar of his T-shirt, swept his gaze across the audience below, and grinned: "But, unfortunately, tonight's last song is not 'Glory.'"

"???"

"Here's the thing — I have a friend, I really like his songs, and he really likes mine. So, he just —"

The prelude of "A Laugh Amidst the Sea," a classic song that had resounded through the Hong Kong music scene for over ten years, cut in forcefully at that very moment, hard-crowd-controlling the entire venue for several seconds!

A familiar raspy voice came through the speakers; an elderly man in a sharp suit, his smile warm and kindly, poked his head up from the rising platform, continuously waving and greeting the audience —

"Let's welcome our special guest, Mr. Huang Zhan!"

Zhou Yi smiled and walked over to him.

As Huang Zhan's segment came to an end, the arrangement that followed was noticeably more youthful — the flute grew crisper, and a touch more urgent.

Zhou Yi, whose pitch and explosive power were clearly several notches above Huang Zhan's, sang this kind of Wu Xia song for the first time, giving the feeling of a young knight just stepping into the jianghu —

He sang of a carefree, worldly-ignorant jianghu lad, relying on his own skills to run wild and do as he pleased.

Very much on-brand.

One old, one young — one in his sixties, one in his twenties.

The aged and the youthful played off each other, Cantonese and Mandarin taking turns and layering;

The curtain-fall of a retired jianghu legend and the opening prologue of a galloping newcomer gave an extreme contrast — especially when the two stood shoulder to shoulder —

"Anyone who knows it, sing along, alright!"

Zhou Yi raised his microphone and, in a steady rhythm, swung it toward the four sides of the stage —

The simplest lyrics, the most unified great chorus!