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Translator: 549690339

Yang Ping, standing at the entrance to the reception room, felt quite surprised upon hearing his assistant’s voice.

His assistant was usually calm and stable; it was rare to see such an excited demeanor.

Yang Ping couldn’t help but become a bit intrigued.

After knocking on the door, he walked in.

“Director Yang, you’re here,’¹ his assistant hurriedly approached, speaking rapidly, “the song Mr. Jiang composed is absolutely amazing, you must listen to it!”

Yang Ping had originally planned to tell Jiang Xu that his song hadn’t been selected.

But seeing his assistant so wholeheartedly endorsing it, he swallowed the words he was about to say.

Though he had already decided to use Mr. Zhang’s composition, he thought he should at least listen to this one.

As the prelude started, Yang Ping’s eyes lit up ever so slightly.

It had quality.

[With a turn of water sleeves in the opera, singing of joy and sorrow, of partings and reunions, unrelated to me…]

“Operatic singing!” Yang Ping couldn’t help but sit up straighter, taking another look at Jiang Xu.

Such a singing style, appearing in a youngster.

With each line sung, Yang Ping’s expression turned very serious, utterly focused.

[Amid the chaos like drifting duckweed, I endure the sight of beacon fires burning across rivers and mountains, of lowly rank yet I dare not forget the worries of the nation, even if no one knows me…]

And by the time the climax came, Yang Ping had goosebumps all over his body.

The core of “The Red Opera Singer” was that line: ‘Of lowly rank yet I dare not forget the worries of the nation, even if no one knows me’.

It expressed the deepest, most unadorned love that tens of thousands of people had for their country.

For the sake of this country, willing to give oneself unconditionally.

As the song concluded, Yang Ping’s eyes were reddened.

He looked at Jiang Xu in disbelief, “Did you really produce this song?”

Such a profound song coming from a young man not yet twenty, the thought of it was incredible.

Jiang Xu smiled and nodded.

“The Red Opera Singer” was published in 2018.

With Jiang Xu’s current financial situation, he wasn’t willing to exploit the original creator without compensation.

He would send someone to find the original author and through the proper channels, offer the author several million.

Jiang Xu said, “Director Yang, do you think this song meets the requirements?”

“It does, it more than meets them,” Yang Ping nodded vigorously, excited like a 180-pound child, “I can assure you, once this song is broadcast, it will definitely create a huge sensation!”

After that, Yang Ping directly signed a contract with Jiang Xu.

With time being tight, Jiang Xu had to come in for rehearsals every day until the Lantern Festival gala.

After signing the contract, Yang Ping invited Jiang Xu to have dinner together in the evening.

Then he personally went to Mr. Zhang’s home.

“What is it, is there a problem with the lyrics or music?” Mr. Zhang, curious, looked at Yang Ping who had suddenly visited.

“Mr. Zhang, I am truly sorry,” Yang Ping bowed deeply at a ninety-degree angle to Mr. Zhang, “Regarding the song for the Lantern Festival gala… there’s a composition that is more suitable than your piece…”

After finishing his words, Yang Ping’s forehead was dripping with sweat.

Anxious that Mr. Zhang might be angry.

“Oh?” Mr. Zhang wasn’t angry but quite curious, “What kind of song is it? May I listen to it?”

“Certainly.”

Yang Ping brought the recording.

After listening to it once, Mr. Zhang excitedly stood up.

Clapping and laughing exuberantly, “What a line, ’Of lowly rank yet I dare not forget the worries of the nation’; this young man has a fervent patriotic heart.

Yang Ping, you made the right choice.

This song is superior to the one I provided you.”

Yang Ping let out a sigh of relief.

It was good that Mr. Zhang wasn’t angry.

“However,” Mr. Zhang’s tone shifted, causing Yang Ping’s heart to lift once again.

He said, “Could you introduce me? I would like to meet this young man.”

Mr. Zhang’s granddaughter, who was by his side, was also curious about Jiang Xu.

She had heard of Jiang Xu’s fame but had never seen him in person.

In the evening, inside a private room of a restaurant.

Jiang Xu met with Zhang Laoshi, a towering figure in the music industry.

A very kind and approachable old man, he was also quite talkative.

His granddaughter accompanied him as well, named Zhang Tiantian, about the same age as Jiang Xu.

Upon seeing Jiang Xu, Zhang Tiantian suddenly felt shy.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen men more handsome than Jiang Xu.

But Jiang Xu gave her a different vibe from other guys.

Steady, imposing, profound, with depth in his gaze, and a demeanor rare for his age.

All-in-all, the impact he made on Zhang Tiantian was tremendous.

It was the first time she experienced what was called a flutter of the heart.

But her expression soon turned downcast.

She remembered that Jiang Xu had a girlfriend and was also the national college entrance examination top scorer last year.

Both parties took their seats.

Jiang Xu had great respect for Elder Zhang.

And indeed, the elder’s capability was immensely strong.

The network behind him was even more frighteningly powerful.

If he could forge a connection with him, it would only benefit the future development of Jiang Xu’s company, with no drawbacks.

Elder Zhang, with a chuckle, looked at Jiang Xu, “I’m a bit older, so I’ll call you Xiao Xu, if you don’t mind?”

His first impression of Jiang Xu was very favorable.

Neither humble nor arrogant, solid and grand, clearly someone who could be a pillar of society.

He was always accurate in his judgement of people.

Jiang Xu smiled and said, “Of course, it’s my honor.”

Yang Ping was busy pouring tea for Elder Zhang on the side, secretly amazed.

He rarely saw Elder Zhang show such appreciation towards a young person.

“By the way,” Elder Zhang asked, “does your song have a backstory?”

“It does,” Jiang Xu nodded.

The story behind “The Red Opera Singer” could move countless compatriots to tears.

He narrated the tale.

After listening, the mood among those present turned somber.

Zhang Tiantian’s eyes were particularly filled with tears, going in circles.

It was as if she was transported back to that era when the entire nation was engulfed in war and collective mourning.

“Good, this is really good,” Elder Zhang couldn’t help but clap in praise. “It’s a great fortune for our younger generation to remember what our ancestors have done.”

His look towards Jiang Xu was filled with even more admiration.

Jiang Xu modestly said it was nothing.

After all, it wasn’t his original creation.

But indeed, the original author of the song was remarkable.

One song, “The Red Opera Singer,” had awakened the patriotic spirit of many citizens, as well as bringing attention to a painful part of history.

At that moment, Yang Ping approached Elder Zhang with a phone in hand, “Please have a listen, these songs were all composed by Jiang Xu too.”

He had specifically looked up how many songs Jiang Xu had ‘created’ after listening to “The Red Opera Singer” the day before.

Having listened to them, Yang Ping was astounded by Jiang Xu’s talent.

He downloaded all the songs.

In the private room, only the sound of music played.

Elder Zhang listened, nodding continuously.

Meanwhile, Zhang Tiantian’s admiration and fondness for Jiang Xu were almost spilling out of her eyes.

She sneakily glanced at Jiang Xu.

She took out her phone, turned on the camera, aimed at Jiang Xu, and attempted to take a secret photo.

With a ‘click,’ the flash went off.

The private room was suddenly plunged into an awkward silence.