Chapter 105: Gone—Not a Drop Left

It is not simple. This song is not simple, and the person singing it is even less so.

In the small courtyard, the incandescent bulb stretched the young man’s shadow long and thin, casting a slender, dark silhouette across the lime-plastered floor. Xie Shun stared at that shadow, momentarily lost in thought. Under the glow of the light, the shadow seemed like a road—an ordinary road.

Yes, it felt as though Xie Shun were looking at a path. A path filled with thorns and marshes.

Jiang You’s mind went blank for a moment; it was a vacuum of thought. He had heard the name "Jia Bei" before—or rather, every aspiring singer had heard that name. Many had even fantasized about becoming the next He Luoluo or He Xi'er. That brother-sister duo had risen to fame entirely because of Jia Bei; He Luoluo, in particular, had been carried to the stars by him.

Amateurs watch for the excitement, but professionals look for the craft. When He Luoluo suddenly exploded in popularity, the public didn't have much of a nuanced understanding; they only knew that his song "Sorrow Dissipation" was beautiful, tear-jerking, and haunting. But talented singers in the industry could hear the flaws in He Luoluo’s technique; it was far from perfect. What was truly stunning was the song itself. To put it bluntly, even a dog could have sung it and become a hit—He Luoluo was merely a vessel. Jiang You felt he could be that vessel, too; anyone could be tied to a chair and sing it.

Jia Bei’s talent for songwriting was universally recognized by the industry, but his actual singing ability had always been met with skepticism. Some time ago, during the "Song Battle" incident, Shengshi had released a video of Jia Bei singing, but it only showed his back, and many refused to believe it was really him. Even Jiang You hadn't believed it.

But now, he did. Not only did he believe it, but he now thought anyone who doubted Jia Bei’s ability to sing must have lost their mind. How could one possibly doubt Teacher Jia Bei!

It was shocking, overturning everyone’s perception. It turned out that someone who could write songs could also sing—and not just sing, but sing exceptionally well.

He Xi'er and Jiang Qi were much quicker to accept this, as they were the ones who had known and interacted with Li He the longest. They had witnessed Jia Bei’s rise and his meteoric ascent. From "Dissipation" to "Bubbles," and now to this "Ordinary Road," every one of Li He’s songs showed an extremely high level of craftsmanship. The lyrics touched the heart; every character was simple, yet when combined, they were full of stories. Jiang Qi simply thought it sounded wonderful, and her admiration for Jia Bei only deepened.

Perhaps the only one present who could truly understand the song was He Xi'er. She was different from everyone else; she held another identity as a student in the Vocal Music Department at the Lu Province Academy of Arts. She was an alumna of Li He’s and a classmate of his best friend, He Luo. She had learned about some of Li He’s experiences from He Luo, and she could hear plenty of stories about him within the department.

Before the young man’s home had been struck by tragedy and his voice damaged, he had been in the third class of the Vocal Department—one of the most talented voices in the group. After his voice was ruined, he was forced to transfer to the Composition Department, where he remained in obscurity for many years.

"I once possessed everything."

This line of lyrics nearly brought He Xi'er to tears. It seemed to tell of the boy’s past glory and his unwillingness to let go; he, too, had once held honor and brilliance, having stood at the peak of the mountain.

"In the blink of an eye, it drifted away like smoke."

Everything had vanished with that fire. Before she knew it, the tears in He Xi'er’s eyes could no longer be held back, streaming down her face.

The stars twinkled, and the dim moonlight bathed the silent earth. In the courtyard, the young man stood with his back to the crowd, appearing desolate and lonely. Yes, lonely. That was how He Xi'er saw it.

Teacher He’s reaction remained simple and visceral, untainted by any complexity—it was just beautiful. Wu Guang was already grinning from ear to ear. He didn't understand music, but he knew one thing: this song was excellent. Looking at the reactions of everyone present, it was clearly a hit. Most importantly, it was sung by Jia Bei. The first episode would absolutely explode.

Xie Shun stood up, Jiang Qi stared blankly at that figure, Jiang You’s eyes were filled with pure worship, He Xi'er’s makeup was ruined by tears, and Teacher He’s mouth hung wide open.

The first half ended. The sound of the guitar continued. Everyone waited, waiting for the second half of the song, waiting to see where this story would lead. Li He did not disappoint them; he slowly turned around, stood under the moonlight, and pulled back his right hand from the guitar.

The guitar fell silent. The singing dissipated.

The courtyard was deathly quiet. No one spoke, no one made a sound. One of the camera operators kept holding his position even though his arm had gone numb. They were all waiting, waiting for the young man to raise the guitar again and continue the story.

But their hope was in vain. They watched as Li He took off the guitar and walked over. It wasn't until he sat down steadily on the stool and picked up his teacup to soothe his throat that everyone finally realized: the song was over, the performance had finished.

It was gone.

Xie Shun circled around from the other side of the table, his breathing slightly rushed. "What about the rest?"

What about the following part? No… what Li He had just sung wasn't even a complete first half. It was incomplete.

He felt a bit anxious. Xie Shun was a composer himself and held a deep, scholarly passion for songwriting. Good songs are sought after by singers, but they are also cherished by composers. A composer’s love for a high-quality song often exceeds that of a singer. A singer’s pursuit is often tinged with utilitarian motives—whether intentional or not, there is always a benefit to be gained. But composers are different; they love a song for the sake of the song. They cannot gain fame from a song written by someone else; it brings them no profit. Their love is pure.

At this moment, that was exactly what Xie Shun felt. He liked this song very much; even from just this short segment, the high quality was evident. If the second half didn't fall apart, this song had the potential to be a classic. Xie Shun had written classics before, and his sensitivity to such things was sharp.

Faced with Xie Shun’s questioning, Li He calmly turned his cup upside down, shook it, and said innocently, "It’s gone. Not a drop left."

The cup was empty. Not a drop of water remained.

"Oh, that’s not what I’m asking about!" Xie Shun said urgently. "I’m asking about the song, 'Ordinary Road.' Where is the rest of it? Why did you stop singing?"

Everyone looked over, their eyes filled with the same question. Jiang Qi and He Xi'er thought of a certain possibility, their hearts tightening.

"Why is everyone looking at me like that?" Li He said helplessly. "I told you before I started that the song wasn't finished yet and that I hoped Teacher Xie Shun could give me some pointers."

Xie Shun blinked. "So…"

"So, that’s it," Li He confirmed. "I’ve only written this much. I haven't written the second half yet."

Really, that was all there was. Sensing the shift in the atmosphere, Li He hurriedly explained, "Teacher Xie Shun, you know how it is—writing songs requires inspiration. Sometimes, when it comes, you can’t stop it."

"I wrote these few lines during a burst of inspiration, but when I wanted to keep going, the inspiration was gone. I couldn't catch it no matter how hard I tried."

"Inspiration is just so annoying like that."

Silence. An eerie silence.

The way everyone looked at Li He changed; they all had the sudden urge to beat him up.

A long time passed.

Xie Shun sighed, slumped powerlessly into his chair, and the seat let out a creaking sound.