The night of December 31st, at the Star River Music Festival.

The fifty-thousand-seat stadium was packed to capacity, with support signs of various colors flickering like a vast sea.

The online live stream was even more crowded, with twenty million people online simultaneously; the bullet comments were scrolling so fast that the screen was barely visible.

"Cai Yu! Cai Yu!"

"Our boy is the grand finale tonight, the prestige is through the roof!"

"Whoever that is in front, hurry up and finish so you can get lost. Don't delay me seeing my boy!"

"LMAO, some 'Five-Kill Producer' was scheduled right after Brother Yu. Isn't this just a pure public execution?"

Cai Yu's performance was currently underway.

On the giant screen, this top-tier idol was wearing a sequined suit, twisting his body with great effort on stage.

Calling it 'effort' was generous; in reality, his movements were limp, and he couldn't even hit a single beat.

His semi-live vocal setup was incredibly blatant, with the backing track so loud it almost drowned out his own voice.

Even so, the two lines of actual singing that occasionally leaked through sounded like he was gasping like an ox, and his pitch was miles off.

Professional fans in the front rows were screaming hysterically, forcibly creating the illusion of a red-hot atmosphere.

But the ordinary audience wasn't buying it.

In the back sections, many people were looking down at their phones, and some were even yawning.

The real feedback in the live stream was even more direct. The number of online viewers began to drop bit by bit from its peak of twenty million.

"What kind of rubbish is this singing? Is it industrial exhaust?"

"Dancing like a robot with a short circuit and singing like a squawking duck—this is your top-tier idol?"

"I've got aesthetic fatigue. Hurry up and change performers; if not, I'm going to take a shower first."

Backstage dressing room.

Lu Zhixian leaned back on the sofa, staring at the monitor on the wall.

On the screen, Cai Yu was winking at the camera while panting heavily.

Lu Zhixian adjusted his collar and let out a light chuckle.

A live performance of this caliber would never have even passed the preliminary rounds in the era of 'god-tier battles' from his past life. No, they wouldn't have even let him audition.

His phone vibrated incessantly.

Jiang Cheng sent a voice message with a noisy background: "Brother Xian, I'm watching the stream. This grandson's singing is too damn bad! He's purely relying on his fans' shouting to keep the show going."

Su Qing followed up with a message: "Teacher Lu, don't let it affect you. Just perform well and use your strength to slap them in the face."

Lu Zhixian typed a quick reply: "Don't worry. I can control a stage like this with my eyes closed."

Right then, a familiar mechanical voice rang out in his mind.

[Ding! The debut stage mission is about to be settled.]

[Current live audience detected: 48,500. Online audience: 18,000,000.]

[Host, please prepare to take the stage.]

Lu Zhixian stood up and straightened his long black trench coat.

No sequins, no exaggerated styling. Just the simplest black trench coat over a pure black turtleneck sweater. Clean and sharp.

The door was pushed open, and the floor director poked his head in, drenched in sweat: "Teacher Lu, Cai Yu is almost finished. Please get ready and wait in the wings."

"Alright." Lu Zhixian walked out with one hand in his pocket, his long legs eating up the ground.

His pace was as relaxed as if he were going downstairs to buy a pack of cigarettes.

On stage, Cai Yu finally ended his twenty-minute "torture."

He blew a kiss to the crowd and walked off stage amidst a wave of screams.

The host stepped up, bracing himself.

He glanced at his script, then at the audience where a massive commotion was starting, and his Adam's apple bobbed.

According to the rules of fandom, after a top idol performs, the fans leave in droves. This was called "showing prestige."

Sure enough, several thousand fans in the front and middle sections had already stood up, carrying their light boards as they surged toward the exits.

The scene was chaotic, with the sound of chairs clattering and people talking blending into a mess.

The host cleared his throat and shouted loudly, "Thank you, Cai Yu, for that wonderful performance! Next up is our Producer of the Year, and the much-anticipated rookie singer of the night—"

He elongated his tone, trying to heat up the atmosphere.

"Lu—Zhi—Xian!"

The response from below was nothing but sparse applause.

Some people even whistled and jeered.

With the large numbers of fans still heading out, the entire stadium felt noisy and disorganized; the atmosphere had dropped to freezing point.

The bullet comments in the live stream were even more filled with mockery.

"Hahaha, this is killing me! This cold reception is absolute!"

"Everyone's gone. Who is he going to sing to, ghosts?"

"The birth of the most pathetic rookie singer. I'll pity him for one second."

"Serves him right. Who told him he had to cross over just to leech off the popularity?"

In the tunnel.

Lu Zhixian stood in the shadows, listening to the messy commotion outside.

Old Li, Da Fei, and the other band members stood behind him, their expressions quite grim.

"What the hell is this?" Old Li cursed through gritted teeth. "Do these fans even know the rules? Everyone's running around—how are we supposed to perform?"

Da Fei also sighed repeatedly: "Teacher Lu, this is a really tough start."

Lu Zhixian turned his head and looked at these old veterans.

He wasn't angry; instead, he smiled. It was a smile that radiated unmasked arrogance.

"Tough?"

He rolled his neck, his joints making a crisp clicking sound.

"The colder the room, the better it looks when it burns up."

Across two lifetimes, he had witnessed the birth of countless legendary songs.

Today was the first time he would stand before fifty thousand people as a true singer.

Leaving? Cold reception?

That was just fine.

He was going to make these people who turned their backs and walked away regret it for the rest of their lives.

His competitive drive was completely ignited in his blood, burning so hot it made his whole body feel scorched.

"Let's go."

Lu Zhixian stepped forward, walking into the light.

The moment he appeared on stage, the noise in the stadium paused for a brief moment.

The big screen cut to a close-up of him.

His tall frame and the black trench coat were slightly lifted by the night wind.

No extra movements, no ingratiating smiles.

He walked straight to the center of the stage and gripped the stand microphone with one hand.

Below the stage, the departing fans continued to file out, while only some passersby sat cross-legged on their chairs with a 'watching a good show' attitude.

Lu Zhixian ignored the chaos below.

He turned his head and gave a hand signal to Old Li and Da Fei behind him.

A thumbs up, followed by a heavy drop.

This was the signal they had agreed upon during rehearsals.

The next second.

With a loud 'snap,' every light in the stadium went out!

The fifty-thousand-person venue was instantly plunged into pitch-black darkness where one couldn't even see their own hand. Even the big screens went dark.

The sudden change stunned the entire crowd.

The fans who were leaving stopped in their tracks, looking around in a panic.

"What's going on? A power outage?"

"What the hell!"

The live stream also went black instantly, with only the bullet comments still scrolling frantically.

"A broadcasting accident?"

"Star River's broadcasting tech is way too trash!"

Immediately following that.

Thump—

An incredibly dull, highly penetrating low-frequency heartbeat sound exploded from the dozens of top-tier line array speakers around the stadium.

The sound was terrifyingly loud, slamming directly into everyone's chests and making the ground beneath their feet go slightly numb from the vibration.

The entire venue fell silent for an instant.

Thump—

A second heartbeat. The rhythm was slightly faster than the first.

Thump—Thump—

The heartbeat began to accelerate, like a massive war drum continuously beating in the darkness.

That sense of oppression spread through the air, tightly gripping everyone's throat.

The originally noisy stadium miraculously fell quiet.

Even those fans who were in a hurry to leave subconsciously stopped in the aisles, holding their breath.

Fifty thousand people were forcibly placed on pause in the darkness by an unknown power.

The bullet comments in the live stream experienced a brief gap at this moment; everyone stared at the pitch-black screen, not even daring to breathe loudly.

Suppression.

The ultimate sense of pressure.

The countdown heartbeat grew faster and more dense.

Until it reached a critical point.

Hum—

All the heartbeat sounds came to an abrupt halt.

One second.

Two seconds.

Just when everyone thought it really was an equipment failure.

Snap!

A beam of cold white spotlight suddenly sliced down from the top of the stadium, hitting the center of the stage directly.

In the pillar of light.

Lu Zhixian held the microphone with one hand, his head slightly lowered.

The hem of his trench coat flapped loudly in the wind.

He didn't look up, nor did he speak.

But that natural aura had already followed the camera lens and slammed into the twenty million viewers across the network.

The live stream bullet comments were instantly cleared.

The fifty thousand people on-site held their collective breath.

Everyone was waiting.

Waiting for this producer who had been scheduled for the 'garbage time,' waiting for this rookie singer who had been mocked for half a month.

Waiting for his first note.

Was this voice a god or a ghost?

Lu Zhixian slowly raised his head.

His lips drew close to the microphone.