There was no suspense.

Before the presenter could even fully open the envelope, someone in the audience couldn't help but chuckle.

"Best New Producer of the Year—Lu Zhixian!"

The entire venue instantly erupted in excitement.

A few veteran producers in the front row looked at each other with complex expressions, but the hint of admiration in their eyes couldn't be hidden.

Half of it was "I knew this kid was going to cause a stir," while the other half was "Does he really think this podium is his own living room tonight?"

Lu Zhixian stood up for the fourth time.

He looked down at the three trophies lined up by his feet; the third one was slightly tilted, reflecting the venue's lights on its surface.

He seriously hesitated for a second, wondering if he should find an eco-friendly bag to carry them.

After all, he would have to take more later.

He was now more than familiar with the path to the stage.

The host finally couldn't hold it in anymore.

This hosting Old Cannon, known in the industry for his composure, gripped Lu Zhixian's hand and turned to the audience, his voice filled with sincere helplessness.

"Teacher Lu. I've been hosting for twelve years, and this is the first time I've presented an award to the same person four times in a single ceremony."

He paused, his expression deadpan.

"Did you... buy a monthly pass?"

The whole audience doubled over with laughter, and the atmosphere reached a boiling point.

Lu Zhixian took the trophy with one hand and stood before the microphone.

He tilted his head, thought for a moment, and finally said a few more words this time.

"I've climbed quite a few steps tonight. My legs might be sore tomorrow."

The laughter grew even louder; the whole audience was practically losing it.

He gave the trophy a little shake.

"Thank you all for your support."

He turned and walked off the stage.

The live stream's bullet chat immediately exploded.

"This guy's exercise volume tonight is more than mine for the whole month."

"'Thank you all for your support' times four. I suggest adding this to the collection of best acceptance speeches of the year and playing it on loop."

"I'm going to be laughing at the host's 'monthly pass' line for three days. That was legendary!"

"To be honest, from the third time onwards, I stopped caring about who won; I only cared about when God Lu would go back on stage."

The hashtag #Mr. Monthly Pass# shot into the top three trending topics within five minutes, and Weibo's servers were reportedly starting to alert again.

---

Lu Zhixian sat back down.

The four trophies were huddled together at his feet, making for quite a spectacular sight.

He was just wondering how to rearrange them so he wouldn't trip over himself when a bottle of mineral water was handed to him.

It was Lin Shiya's hand.

Her fingers were long and slender, and the cap had already been unscrewed.

Lu Zhixian was stunned for a moment, then took it and had a sip.

Lin Shiya faced forward, not looking at him.

"Teacher Lu, you've been on stage four times. Have some water so you don't choke."

Lu Zhixian almost choked.

He turned his head and coughed twice, catching a glimpse of her with his peripheral vision; the corners of her mouth were curved in a tiny arc.

She didn't seem so cold anymore; instead, there was a hint of... playfulness?

He cleared his throat. "Thank you for your concern, Teacher Lin. If I have to go up again later, I'll consider putting a chair on the stage."

The arc of Lin Shiya's mouth widened slightly.

Not by much, but enough to show she was amused.

---

Next to be announced was "Album of the Year."

The covers of the five nominated albums were displayed one by one on the big screen.

The last one was Lin Shiya's "scenery in the mist."

The cover featured a pair of slender hands pressed against piano keys, with hazy warm light peeking through the fingers; the color grading was high-end, like an unfinished oil painting.

The presenter opened the envelope.

"Album of the Year—Lin Shiya, 'scenery in the mist'!"

The applause was enthusiastic and orderly.

When this album was released in the first half of the year, its reputation had already reached legendary status; winning this award was exactly what everyone expected.

Lin Shiya rose. Her movements were unhurried, elegant, and composed.

As she passed Lu Zhixian, she tilted her head slightly and whispered something.

He didn't hear it clearly, but he saw the movement of her lips.

It looked like "It's my turn."

Lin Shiya stood in the center of the stage. The lights hung down from above, outlining her tall silhouette.

Her speech was very short.

"'scenery in the mist' is the result of three years of my hard work. It isn't perfect, but it is honest. Thank you to every listener, and thank you to my team."

She paused for a beat.

"I also want to thank some of the new voices I encountered this year, which gave me a new imagination for music."

She didn't name names.

But many people in the front row noticed where her gaze landed.

Specifically, at Lu Zhixian's seat.

Lu Zhixian sat there and applauded.

But several people next to him exchanged glances, the "Oh? Is something going on?" implication being quite obvious.

---

Immediately following was "Singer of the Year."

The presenter was a veteran Heavenly King who had long since achieved legendary status; in his sixties with graying hair, standing on stage, he was a heavyweight figure of an entire era.

He opened the envelope, took a look, and smiled.

It was the kind of gratified smile a senior has when seeing a junior succeed.

"You've all guessed this name—Lin Shiya."

Her second trophy of the night.

The applause was long-lasting. Lin Shiya took the stage again and composedly accepted the trophy. This time, her speech was even shorter.

"The word 'singer' carries a lot of weight. I will continue to sing. Thank you, everyone."

She bowed, turned, and walked off the stage.

Clean and efficient, without any lingering.

When she returned to her seat, Lu Zhixian took the initiative to applaud.

Lin Shiya sat down, placed the trophy on the table, and spoke in a low voice.

"Two awards against four. I lost." Her tone carried a hint of reluctance, yet also a touch of playfulness.

Lu Zhixian shook his head. "Quality is more important than quantity. Your two awards carry more weight than mine."

Lin Shiya didn't argue. She picked up her water glass and swirled it but didn't drink.

Two seconds of silence passed.

"Save the polite talk for the press conference."

Lu Zhixian let out a laugh.

---

A brief performance interval.

The house lights dimmed, and the big screen began playing a carefully edited short film reviewing the music of the year.

The first set of shots flashing by were the most popular singles from the first half of the year, with bullet chats and play data scattering like particle effects.

When the melody of "dispelling sorrow" started playing, Jiang Cheng in the back row unconsciously sat up straighter, his eyes filled with pride.

The film continued to progress.

A behind-the-scenes clip of Su Qing recording "bubble" in the studio flashed by; the sheer, all-out seriousness on her face was moving.

Next was the finale night of "Heavenly Voice Partners"—Lu Zhixian sitting behind the piano, and Su Ran standing under the spotlight singing "Listen."

That a cappella snippet was played once more.

All sound vanished as Su Ran stood alone in the center of the stage, her voice baring itself and striking straight at the soul.

Then, the piano and all the vocal parts rushed in simultaneously in a very short time.

The audience broke into applause once again.

Spontaneous, scattered, yet heavy and full of respect.

The short film ended.

The lights gradually brightened.

The host walked to the center of the stage. He changed his position, standing half a step further forward than before, and the previous ease on his face was replaced by a much more solemn expression.

"Next is the most prestigious behind-the-scenes award of tonight's ceremony."

He paused.

"Producer of the Year."

The air in the venue instantly froze; everyone held their breath.

The big screen showed a montage of the works of the five nominated producers for the year.

The first two were industry heavyweights who had been immersed in the field for years, with a wide range of works and solid resumes; any one of them was a legend. One had been in the industry for over twenty years and won three Golden Song Awards, while the other two were ace producers from major record labels.

It was the fifth one's turn.

Snippets of four songs—"dispelling sorrow," "bubble," "against the current," and "Listen"—flashed on the screen.

Each one had created phenomenal waves this year—"dispelling sorrow" turned a washed-up singer into a top-tier star again.

"bubble" pinned another nearly forgotten name back into the public eye.

"against the current" and "Listen," in a nationally televised competition, crushed the capital-controlled shady dealings with absolute strength; it was practically the best "face-slapping" scene of the year.

The montage ended on a profile of Lu Zhixian playing the piano with his eyes closed.

That montage was shorter than the other four.

But the amount of information and impact was on a completely different level; it was practically a dimensional strike.

The venue was quiet for two seconds.

The presenter walked out from the side curtain.

The Chairman of the Golden Song Awards Organizing Committee, a silver-haired old gentleman, didn't walk fast, but every step was steady and powerful.

He stood in the center of the stage with the envelope.

He looked down, opened the envelope, and took a glance.

Then he looked up and smiled slightly.

In that smile, there was appreciation, emotion, and a hint of understanding.

"Producer of the Year—"

His gaze went straight past the microphone toward the front row of the audience.

The whole audience held their breath, hearts in their throats.

Lu Zhixian subconsciously straightened his back.

In his mind, the task progress bar on the system panel jumped to 99%. The line of text was clearly lit up.

[Critical moment. The host is about to reach the decisive node of "from behind the scenes to the front of the stage." Task completion condition: In the spotlight, announce your identity transition in a clear manner. Task reward: Top-tier timbre, super vocal cord function. Are you ready?]

Lu Zhixian replied with one word in his heart.

Yes.

"Lu Zhixian!"

The whole audience stood up.

Thunderous applause crashed down.

The senior producers in the front row also stood up; some were clapping very hard, their expressions complex but sincere, carrying a vibe of "I'm convinced, completely convinced."

Lu Zhixian stood up for the fifth time.

Some golden sequins were stuck to his suit cuff, likely scattered by some senior's "enthusiasm."

He didn't step forward immediately; instead, he looked down and straightened his cuff, flicking the sequins away. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if saying, "This is all standard procedure."

Lin Shiya looked up at him.

She didn't speak.

But there was an indescribable premonition in her eyes, flashing through her heart like an electric current.

What this man was about to do was definitely not as simple as just saying "thank you" again.

Her beauty mark twitched very slightly under the lights.

In those eyes, there was now expectation.

Lu Zhixian took a step and walked toward the stage.

This time, he walked very slowly, each step like it was landing on a drumbeat.