As soon as the rules for the guest performers in the semi-finals were announced, everyone started making their moves.

Shen Yihang's team was the fastest.

In less than twenty-four hours, they released their official announcement: Kevin, an internationally renowned electronic music DJ and producer, focusing on EDM-live fusion. It featured a silhouette of two side profiles with a caption of only four words: The storm is coming.

The comment section exploded as fast as a starting gun. Fans forwarded it like crazy, while passersby clicked in out of curiosity; it hit the trending searches within two hours.

Veteran singer Han Yue followed suit with a soprano from the national troupe, going for a classic bel canto style. The hashtag #BattleOfTheGods immediately rose to the top.

Independent musician Su Chi was the most low-key, only posting a photo of two people shaking hands from behind with a caption: Underground rap circle, you know what it is. Those in the know in the comment section couldn't sit still.

Three sets of guests, three different directions, each more famous than the last.

The production team was beaming with joy. On the data screen in the director's room, the interaction volume of various accounts flickered in real-time. The assistant director looked around and finally fixed his gaze on one place.

Lin Shiya's studio account.

Last updated: two days ago, a snippet of behind-the-scenes recording.

There was no movement whatsoever.

In the hotel room, Sister Chen pushed an A4 sheet of paper in front of Lin Shiya.

"I've narrowed it down to six people." Sister Chen pointed at the list. "First, Li Chengyuan, a powerful singer whose vocal range complements yours. You've collaborated on two OSTs and have great chemistry. Second, piano master Wu Fangzhou, whose style is closest to yours. Third..."

Lin Shiya picked up the list and looked through it.

Six people, each with notes attached. The notes included past collaboration cases and fan overlap analysis. This was how Sister Chen always worked—so detailed that no one could find a fault.

Lin Shiya put the paper back on the table.

"Let me think about it some more."

Sister Chen looked at her. "Shiya, there are only ten days left until the semi-finals recording."

"I know."

"The other three groups have already made their official announcements."

"I know."

Sister Chen took a deep breath, swallowed the rest of her words, and picked up her coat to leave. She paused at the door.

"Everyone on that list can hold their own on that stage. But what you want isn't just someone who 'can hold their own,' right?"

Lin Shiya didn't answer.

Sister Chen went out and closed the door.

Lin Shiya was left alone in the room. She stared at the list for a while, then flipped it over.

Of the six people on the list, no matter which one stood beside her, they had enough weight to command a space on the stage. They were all strong. They were all suitable.

But for that stage, for the song she wanted to sing, she didn't need two pieces of equal weight competing against each other.

She needed someone who knew how to listen.

The phone rang.

It was Zhou Zhen calling.

"I heard you haven't decided on a guest yet." Zhou Zhen's voice was steady. "It's getting a bit noisy outside."

"Mm."

"Kevin's side is making quite a splash."

"I know."

"What are you thinking about right now?"

Lin Shiya was silent for a few seconds. "I'm thinking about how a song should be sung."

Zhou Zhen didn't press further. The other end of the line was quiet for a moment.

"You don't need to prove who you can invite," he said. "You just need to figure out what you want to sing on this stage."

The call ended.

Lin Shiya put her phone on the table, leaned back against the chair, and looked at the ceiling.

She recalled a scene.

On the streets of Jingzhou, under the yellow streetlights, Old Li was holding that old guitar, singing out of tune with great earnestness. Lu Zhixian sat beside him, casually picked up another guitar, and played the first chord.

He didn't look up the entire time.

He matched Old Li's key and tempo, even following slightly off-key where Old Li faltered to smooth out the discrepancies, making Old Li's voice sound less isolated.

No one noticed what he was doing.

All eyes were on Old Li.

When Lin Shiya watched that video through her phone screen at the time, her first reaction was: He knows when to disappear.

A person who can play every instrument and has top-tier vocal quality, yet chooses to sit there and accompany a street-performing uncle, blending in so well that people forget he's there.

This wasn't humility.

This was a very difficult technique.

Lin Shiya picked up her phone, opened WeChat, and found that chat box.

She stared at the input box for a few seconds.

Then she typed a line.

Lin Shiya: The semi-finals, will you come help me?

Sent.

She placed the phone face down on the table and waited.

About a minute later, the phone vibrated.

She flipped it over to look.

Lu Zhixian: Are you sure?

Lin Shiya: When you were accompanying Old Li on the street, you didn't overpower a single note of his. I need that.

She kept her message brief and didn't explain further.

The phone was quiet for a few seconds.

Then it vibrated again.

Lu Zhixian: Time, location.

Lin Shiya stared at those three words for a while.

She picked up the list she had flipped over, gave it one last look, folded it up, and tossed it into the wastebasket.

Lu Zhixian locked his phone screen and picked up his fork again.

The instant noodles in front of him were ready. He took a mouthful, chewed, then picked up his phone to open WeChat and scrolled back through the conversation.

"When you were accompanying Old Li on the street, you didn't overpower a single note of his. I need that."

He looked at the sentence and finished his noodles with an expressionless face.

Then he opened his contacts and dialed Old Zhao.

The call connected.

"Hangzhou, within ten days."

Old Zhao was quiet for two seconds on the other end. "peak voice?"

"Mm."

Another two seconds of silence. Then Old Zhao let out a long breath, his voice carrying a complex sense of relief: "Fine, I'll go negotiate."

"Talk to the production team about the appearance fee."

"I know, I know, I wasn't born yesterday," Old Zhao said. "Don't cause any trouble when you get there."

"I'm just going there to play the piano."

"It's you playing the piano that I'm afraid of."

Lu Zhixian hung up the phone.

At ten o'clock the next morning, Lin Shiya's studio official account updated a Weibo post.

No countdown, no silhouette poster, no suspenseful packaging.

Just one line of text.

"Semi-finals guest performer, Lu Zhixian."

Followed by a microphone emoji.

Three minutes after the Weibo post went out, the comment section couldn't take the pressure.

"Am I seeing this right???"

"Wait wait wait wait wait... Lu Zhixian??"

"Production team, you're doing this on purpose!!! First you put 'suggest checking the ENT department' on the trending search, then you invite the man himself. This is called 'scold first, marry later,' right!!"

"Ya-Xian Ya-Xian Ya-Xian Ya-Xian."

"Shippers are being resurrected on the spot. Thank you, Teacher Lin, for extending our lives."

"I thought she would invite a musical master, but she invited Lu Zhixian. What kind of big shot is Lu Zhixian supposed to be?"

"Upstairs, go do your homework quickly."

Within twenty minutes, the hashtag broke into the top four trending searches and was still climbing.

#LinShiyaGuestPerformerLuZhixian#

#YaXianSemiFinalReunion#

With the two tags hanging on the list, the CP fans had already started making support materials.

On the production team's side, the assistant director stared at the popularity data and turned to the general director: "We hooked them."

The general director didn't speak, stubbing out the cigarette in his hand. His expression was hard to read—satisfaction or something else.

On the other side.

Shen Yihang's manager stared at that Weibo post, gripped the phone for a moment, and turned to enter Shen Yihang's room.

Shen Yihang was leaning back on the sofa scrolling through videos. The manager pushed the phone screen in front of him.

He glanced down, his eyes pausing for a second.

Then he pushed the phone back, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

"Lu Zhixian," he repeated the name in a flat tone.

"His coming actually makes things easier." The manager took back the phone. "Beating one is good, but beating two doubles the hype."

"Is Kevin's side ready?"

"Everything is ready."

Shen Yihang tapped the video back on, his fingers casually tapping the armrest.

"Then let's take them both down together."

Outside the window, the sky in Hangzhou was fine, and the wind was calm.

But in ten days, no one could say for sure what would happen on that stage.