Chapter 115: Personal Mentor, Online Tutoring

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There is an old saying: no matter how much effort you put in, choosing the right thing matters more. Before this, Zhang Yuan didn’t really understand what that meant. Only after she worked with Zhou Ran this time did she finally understand what it means to know that good execution is not as important as making the right choice.

Zhang Yuan found recording with Zhou Ran so unexpectedly easy.

Zhou Ran prepared everything by himself—lyrics, details, all of it—and when Zhang Yuan sang, he even demonstrated each part himself. He explained every single point to be careful about in “Later,” speaking with such patience and precision that no nuance was left untouched. He also told her exactly what emotion to pour into each line.

It was almost a foolproof method. Zhang Yuan felt that even if she replaced Zhou Ran with any normal professional singer and taught in that same way, even a slow learner could likely make the song sound good.

Zhou Ran’s approach was like letting a student take an open-book exam while he gently guided them through it by the hand. Under this kind of coaching, Zhang Yuan’s progress was astonishing: in less than a day, she brought “Later” up to performance level.

But there was one flaw in Zhou Ran’s teaching—though it was hardly a flaw. While guiding Zhang Yuan through the song, his attitude could become quite strict. It gave her the feeling that if she slipped up, he might snap at her. Under that pressure she was always cautious, afraid that one small mistake would invite sharp criticism. Apart from that, there were no other issues in their musical discussions.

Zhou Ran used that attitude for one reason: he wanted Zhang Yuan to give everything she had and sing “Later” as brilliantly as possible.

One reason was his almost obsessive sense of perfectionism. If Zhou Ran decides to do something, he has to do it to the highest standard, and when it came to performance quality, he could become harsh with Zhang Yuan.

Another reason was this: after he had written “Later,” he felt he had to honor the song’s former reputation. The last time, it had stood as a classic. If he now reintroduced it and it turned into a mediocre song, he would carry guilt forever.

From that double pressure, his teaching naturally seemed severe.

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It could scarcely be called cruel—more precisely, it was a relentless insistence on quality control. If anything in the song was off, Zhou Ran would point it out to Zhang Yuan immediately.

Since it was Zhang Yuan who would perform on stage, not Zhou Ran, he had to identify and fix every weakness before rehearsal ended, so no unpleasant surprises could happen during the broadcast.

Apart from vocal direction, Zhou Ran himself was quite easy to get along with. During practice he joked with Zhang Yuan and carried himself like a genial, easygoing boy-next-door.

And while Zhou Ran was in full stride preparing, Xu Yan had already finished selecting her song for the next day’s competition.

Xu Yan’s company, desperate to make sure she advanced, had spared no expense. They hired famous composers and lyricists to help Xu Yan tackle this season’s episode of Heaven’s Melody, staking everything on the chance she could rise to the top through this platform. If Xu Yan succeeds, their previous investments will all be justified. In truth, their company thought much the same as Zhang Yuan’s: it was a gamble, a wager on who could recruit the stronger backing team.

At this time slot, Heaven’s Melody had the highest ratings. It was the most likely path to a breakout hit, so both companies poured their best hopes into it. With the two singers’ abilities largely similar, it became a matter of whether Zhou Ran’s side or Xu Yan’s chosen producers were stronger.

As hours slipped by, the program’s mandatory forty-eight-hour creative window was about to end. Zhou Ran and Zhang Yuan had already completed “Later” within the allotted time. Zhou Ran also discovered that Zhang Yuan’s voice was especially distinctive. Her tone was wildly adaptable, able to suit many styles, which gave him endless creative freedom. He could shape songs in very different genres for her and need not worry whether she could execute them.

Zhang Yuan was, in every practical sense, a perfect instrument for Zhou Ran.

When that forty-eight-hour period ended, the broadcast hall of Heaven’s Melody began to fill gradually with audience members.

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The production setup of Heaven’s Melody was, like that of Who Is the King of Singers, built around audience scoring. The difference was that their score-judging guests were social media influencers, chosen to boost visibility and buzz.

Wang Chong publicly looked down on such influencers, but the reality was undeniable: inviting them brought in a massive built-in audience, increased exposure quickly, and cost far less.

The production invited one hundred guest judges to form a one-hundred-strong panel responsible for scoring and commenting on each performance. The points did not eliminate anyone; at most, they simply ranked the songs in each session.

At the entrance, director Wang Chong could not help but remark on Zhou Ran’s formidable popularity as the one hundred guests arrived.

Many of them had, upon hearing that Zhou Ran would appear, come forward on their own to ask to participate. They offered no conditions—only the requirement that Zhou Ran be present. It was obvious they were chasing his influence and heat.

Wang Chong could invite guests one by one, but that process was rarely smooth; it usually took time and negotiation. With Zhou Ran involved, these influencers agreed at once, as if afraid he might suddenly change his mind and refuse them.

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Chapter 115: “Personal Tutor, Online Coaching” Free to Read