Chapter Twenty: Entering the Stage

Hearing the commotion at the door, the employees, each busy with their own tasks, instantly stopped what they were doing. When they saw a young man stride in without the slightest hesitation, everyone immediately rose to their feet. Several among them wore unmistakably excited expressions.

"Liao Yuan?"

The young woman from earlier, slim and sporting a neat, short haircut, looked slightly displeased but still spoke up first. "Welcome to the Online Department. I’m Chen Mu’en, assistant to the director. Director Lai is away on a business trip these days, so I’ll be handling all matters in the meantime."

"Hello." Liao Yuan shook hands with her and asked directly, "May I know where my workspace is?"

His straightforwardness was decisive and efficient. Chen Mu’en appreciated this attitude; she was not someone who cared for flattery. Even though Liao Yuan’s work now ranked in the top ten trending topics on Weibo, with millions of clicks, she had no desire to fawn over someone for their achievements.

Ignoring the eager crowd of young women behind her who clearly wanted to introduce themselves, she simply turned and led Liao Yuan to his office area, handing him his new employee badge. She then brought Liao Yuan and Xiao Peng together to his assigned live-streaming studio.

After Liao Yuan checked some of the studio’s specialized equipment, he asked, "May I start working now?"

Chen Mu’en was taken aback but nodded once again. "Of course. We have six shows in total. Now, with your 'Ghost Blows Out the Candle at Midnight,' that makes seven. There are three studios, shared among the seven of you."

After listening to the rules for using the studios, Liao Yuan nodded, pulled a folder from his backpack, and placed the scripts he’d prepared on the control panel, getting ready to record.

Chen Mu’en hesitated to speak. She realized Liao Yuan was almost too efficient, as if pressed for time and wanting to finish his work as quickly as possible.

Xiao Peng, too, was startled by Liao Yuan’s decisiveness. He had originally planned to use his first day to get acquainted with some of the attractive women in the department. But seeing Liao Yuan act with such resolve, leaving no time for idle chat, he felt a chill down his spine.

Gritting his teeth, Xiao Peng quickly tidied his workspace and hurried back to the studio to help Liao Yuan with the recording of "Ghost Blows Out the Candle."

After a morning meeting, Chen Mu’en returned to the studio to check on Liao Yuan’s progress. She had just entered when, through the glass, she saw Liao Yuan sitting upright inside, recording into the microphone.

A glimmer of admiration flickered in Chen Mu’en’s eyes.

Seeing her arrive, Xiao Peng quickly stood up. "Chen, you’re here!"

He now felt some trepidation toward this young leader, whose frosty beauty seemed never to hold even the faintest hint of a smile.

Chen Mu’en responded with a cool "Mm-hmm," her chilly demeanor deflating Xiao Peng’s enthusiasm in an instant.

Listening to the sounds coming from the studio, Chen Mu’en found herself gradually engrossed. She was, after all, something of a fan of "Ghost Blows Out the Candle" herself...

An hour passed.

Inside the studio, Liao Yuan finished recording an entire episode in one go. He had noticed Chen Mu’en’s presence but paid it no mind; work took precedence. He was anxious to finish recording the first part, "The Ancient City of Jingjue." Only after completing the first volume would he have a chance to publish the book, receive his manuscript fee, and finally buy his first piano.

Yesterday, he had tried out the recording equipment with a ukulele, but missing strings and the instrument’s inherently monotonous tone had left him dissatisfied as a seasoned master of music. The ukulele, with its mere four strings, was too simple in both technique and timbre compared to a guitar. It could serve as a companion for casual singing or as an introductory instrument for children, but it was hardly worthy of grander stages.

Indeed, the stage was not for the ukulele. Even in theatrical performances or concerts, one rarely saw it, a fate that guitars themselves often shared.

Guitars came in classical and folk varieties. Folk guitars were wildly popular among the masses and dominated many genres in the music world. Yet at formal concerts, folk guitars would all but vanish. Occasionally, one might see a classical guitar, but its volume was so small that, without amplification, it was easily drowned out by other instruments. Thus, classical guitars had also faded from the concert stage.

With the advent of the piano, which could cover the guitar’s entire musical range and far surpass it in expression, the guitar’s status had plummeted sharply after the eighteenth century. Meanwhile, the violin and piano steadily rose to the pinnacle of musical instruments and remain preeminent to this day.

Apart from wanting to buy a piano, Liao Yuan also hoped to upgrade to a top-tier recording setup. As the saying goes, a good sound engineer is worth a fortune—this was no exaggeration. Proper post-production could transform a third-rate singer into a top-tier professional overnight.

The five hundred yuan he’d spent on basic recording and camera equipment was barely adequate. Compared to the studio’s gear, it wasn’t even in the same league.

Hmm?

After recording a segment, Liao Yuan’s gaze fell on a tool atop the mixing console: a rather expensive condenser microphone.

He recorded for a while longer, then stood up to open the controller on the console, adjusting it to make his voice as warm and pleasant as possible. Flashing a wolfish grin, he spoke into the mic in a gentle tone, as if the Big Bad Wolf were playing at Grandma in a red hood: "Chen, are there any spare microphones like this at the station? Or, if possible, do you have a spare sound card?"

...

While Liao Yuan was recording "Ghost Blows Out the Candle," at the recording site of "Produce 101," Liao Meiqi was beginning the first episode of the show.

On the very first day of official recording, the rules dictated that the contestants would be divided into distinct ranks. The best would stand at the top of the pyramid, assigned to Class A—only eleven slots. After rounds of elimination, the remaining Class A contestants would form a girl group and officially debut.

Next came Classes B, C, and D. The worst would fall into Class F.

All had stood out from nearly twenty thousand hopefuls, but that was only the preliminary audition; the true test began with the show itself. Now, each of the 101 contestants had to face the scrutiny of five celebrity mentors during the first taping.

At this point, two-thirds of the evaluations were complete. Of the eleven Class A slots, ten had been filled. Only one remained.

The thirty remaining contestants were all determined to seize that final coveted spot at the top of the pyramid. Each believed herself to be the chosen one, certain she would make her debut.

But as time passed, pressure mounted. Many of the waiting contestants backstage wore expressions of mingled excitement and anxiety.

"Next, please," said songwriting mentor Zheng Yongxu, picking up the mic after assigning the previous contestant to Class F.

"Number seventy-three, Liao Meiqi!"

Clutching her guitar, Liao Meiqi’s palms were slick with sweat. She had been waiting backstage for a long time, and now that her name had been called, she hurried forward. "Here! Yes, I’m here!"

"It’s your turn to perform!"