The stage lights suddenly dimmed.
It suddenly lit up again, with dark blue and pure white merging together, as if one had accidentally entered a world of ice and snow.
A silver figure came closer from afar, casting a shadow on her, covering her with a layer of light smoke.
Her hair was hip-length, a light gray, draped in the silver light of the water. The woman's skin was white, almost ethereal, and even her lips were as pale as ice and snow, as if a gust of wind could blow them away.
This is a beauty who can make people feel amazed just by standing there.
At the same time, a gust of wind blew up in the barrage: "6666" became the password to pass the level.
"Miss Saigao!"
""
"Doesn't anyone know who number seven is?!"
Nobody knows.
Number seven opens his voice.
Her long hair was blown slightly by the wind from nowhere, and a low voice was heard, "Let it go, let it go..."
Her clear and transparent voice, with a hint of melancholy and helplessness, spoke slowly and leisurely, whispering in the ears and sinking into the heart. Once she opened her voice, no one cared about her figure or identity. Her voice seemed to have a natural magic that made people irresistible. People were drawn in and attracted to follow her through the gloomy past. The high notes suddenly rose and soared into the sky, with the excitement of penetrating the world and transcending the self, breaking free from all shackles and constraints, full of unstoppable power, breaking everything and returning to everything.
We are abandoned by life, so we pretend to abandon life first.
We abandoned life, but found ourselves in the twists and turns.
Suffering cannot stop me, even though I struggle to live.
Freedom, freedom.
Life, life.
As the last tune faded, everyone in front of and behind the screen fell into dead silence.
It was as if someone suddenly pressed a mute button. Everyone had tears in their eyes. They were shocked and moved. Their hearts were filled with courage, but they didn't know how to express it.
Just as Jiang Xi bowed to take his bow, the stadium suddenly erupted in warm applause, more and more loudly than for any other contestant before, as if only in this way could the heart that was jumping out of its chest be put to rest.
The barrage of comments went from dead silence to madness, and it was refreshed very quickly.
Everyone is asking: Who is number seven?
But no one seems to know.
Passersby immediately turned to fans, and most of the fans of each group defected, saying: "I want to vote for Miss Number 7!"
"You little bitch."
In the darkness, Tang Gu rubbed his sore eyes and cursed with a smile.
Li Huaixian, the new fanboy who insisted on squeezing in to sit next to him, was crying like a fool with snot and tears streaming down his face: "Shui Shui is amazing."
Lu Hao sat in front of the screen, his eyes moistened, thinking: So, so...
But he couldn't tell what it was.
I just felt like my heart was being tightly grasped by a hand, and it hurt so much.
This is a song that almost everyone is familiar with. Everyone can hum a few lines, but not everyone can sing it well. Because of lack of skills and narrow vocal range, everyone sings it in a weird way.
Jiang Xi did it.
In the eyes of insiders, her showy explosive high notes are a testament to her profound skill, something that even famous musicians cannot find fault with. However, what truly determines the height of a song is definitely not technique, or at least more than technique. Jiang Xi has immersed her entire life into it, giving it heaviness, fullness... and life.
To move others, you must first move yourself.
Jiang Xi's eyes were red when he stepped down from the stage.
She never imagined that in just a short moment on the stage, it would be like reviewing her entire life - and it is precisely because of this that the impact of this song is so huge.
Music has no borders.
In this world of rampant piracy and exaggerated fame and fortune, there is a great need for music that can move people's hearts - even if it is just a cover.
After people realized what was happening, they tried their best to promote it. Some people who had heard Sanqianshui sing before raised doubts:
"Why do I feel like this is the sound of three thousand waters?"
"Is this true?"
"horrible."
“Just as terrible.”
But no matter how many people refuse to believe it, after comparing the previous two audio clips, no one can deny: Sanqianshui's voice is so special, clear and seductive at the same time, shocking when depressed, and heartbreaking when melancholy.
These three songs, with completely different styles, all come from one voice.
No one else can imitate it.
"Those who said lip-syncing and recordings were slapped in the face, right?"
"Slap in the face 1."
"Slap in the face 2."
"Have you forgotten that Sanqianshui has an awesome sponsor?" Someone protested and posted Chu's financial information, specifically noting: the biggest sponsor of this Masked Singer.
Now the passersby fans who spoke up for Jiang Xi were silenced again.
Even if San Qian Shui's voice is real and the song is genuine, it would be unfair to compare it with these live performances if the recordings were edited in a studio - just like comparing a high-end Rolls-Royce with a low-end Audi.
Who can stand up for a woman who got to the top through improper means?
Tang Gu watched Li Huaixian clacking away at the pad with a look of righteous indignation on his face. He moved closer to take a look and saw that a small account named "Shui Shui Shui" was jumping up and down, arguing with those black fans online, and was very busy.
"I'm afraid that's Sanqianshui himself upstairs."
"Second."
Seeing that Li Huaixian was about to jump again, he couldn't help but roll his eyes: "Why are you arguing with these keyboard warriors? They will feel guilty soon."
"Brother Tang?"
Li Huaixian suddenly turned into a lackey: "Can you tell me about the plan?"
Tang Gu kept him in suspense and just gestured for him to continue watching the performance on the stage.
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