25. The Genius Stage Design: "Sea of Blossoms"

Robin Island, inside the villa’s study, Ji Fanxing leaned back in her chair, her gaze deep and unfathomable, fingertips tapping lightly on the keyboard as complex code and windows flickered across the screen.

A surveillance feed flashed past, freezing on the image of Song Qing’s departing figure.

“Oh?” Ji Fanxing’s lips curled into a barely perceptible cold smile, her voice alluring and dangerous. “Caught you.”

She spoke as she opened another window—this one showing the monitors near Ji Shengxue’s lounge. While the cameras never caught the interior, footage from a few days ago had captured Song Qing dashing out, clothes disheveled, in crystal-clear detail.

Another window displayed surveillance around the practice room on Robin Island, showing Song Qing walking shoulder to shoulder with a man, whispering conspiratorially.

That man was Li Sheng.

The very same Li Sheng who, in her previous life, had secretly photographed and released Hailan’s nude pictures.

Who would have thought Li Sheng was actually a fan of Ji Shengxue, targeting her on the debut stage just to vent for Ji Shengxue.

The secret photos were taken because he believed he’d soon be leaving the show and wanted a keepsake.

A perverse “memento” that was utterly repulsive.

Whether it was the video framing her and Ning Ze for conspiring against her sister, the lip-syncing scandal with ambiguous “communication” between her and the sound engineer, or even the rumors that led to her being cast out of her family in her past life—all of these used half-truths as “evidence,” manipulating the public to stand on the moral high ground and kill with opinion. The same methods, all from the same hand.

Ji Fanxing switched the window back again, Song Qing’s figure frozen on the screen.

The cold glow from the computer reflected off her face, sharp and glacial.

She thought of Ning Ze, who in both her past and present life had lost his dreams, trapped in a punitive contract because of Song Qing’s slander.

In the fourth episode, Song Qing would release her original song, “Guardian Angel.”

This song, as one of “The King of All Singers”’s swan songs, had a brief moment of popularity and was later chosen by the official media as the theme for a public health campaign, giving Song Qing her name in the music world.

Ji Fanxing’s fingers danced on the keyboard.

The entertainment industry was already murky enough; people like Song Qing, both foolish and malicious, would do better to leave without a name to remember.

The next day, the third episode of “The King of All Singers” began filming.

The lighting technician fine-tuned the softest of focused spotlights, while the sound engineer checked every speaker, making sure nothing would go wrong.

Above the stage hung an array of colorful, uniquely shaped floral decorations. The sponsor Eniu’s logo was displayed in the most prominent position, and both the judges’ and contestants’ tables were decked with Eniu’s limited spring edition, flower-flavored yogurt.

Zhang Li bustled back and forth, confirming every detail was flawless.

This episode’s set was clearly a cut above previous ones, and longtime viewers were immediately struck by the transformation upon entering.

[Whoa, am I in the wrong place? Is this still our little scrappy singing show?]
[The production team has leveled up! Even the King’s throne is looking luxurious! That’s more like it! The old makeshift throne was a joke.]
[The stage design is gorgeous—so many flowers, it’s like a dream.]
[But seriously, this sponsor… Sakura yogurt? Is this a joke? Not even a dog would drink that.]

Meanwhile, the host, Du Shao, was already standing center stage: “Welcome back to ‘The King of All Singers!’ Today we present Episode Four—‘Blossoms!’”

The audience, already seated and waiting, erupted into cheers and waves as the camera panned over them. The roar was like a tidal wave, surging straight up to the ceiling.

“Let’s welcome our reigning champion, Ji Fanxing, and her teammate, Hailan!”

This time, Du Shao didn’t introduce Ji Fanxing as “the program’s King,” for now, being King of “The King of All Singers” was but one of her many crowns.

Ji Fanxing and Hailan took the stage hand in hand, and the cheers soared to new heights.

Today, she broke from her previous style, dressed in a pink tulle gown, graceful and ethereal as a fairy. Hailan, likewise in a pink tulle dress, had two pink ribbons falling from her hair, making her look petite and adorable.

The two of them looked like peach blossom and cherry blossom fairies stepped right out of a painting and into reality.

They sat side by side in the King’s seats, a feast for the eyes.

The camera frequently lingered on Ji Fanxing, who deftly picked up the yogurt on the table, popped open the lid, took a sip, and gave a thumbs-up.

Soft and delicate, Ji Fanxing and the sakura-flavored yogurt were a perfect match.

Many viewers were instantly intrigued, wanting to try it for themselves.

Among them was the Eniu brand manager, Zhou Ji, watching the livestream. He immediately screenshotted the scene and began editing a promo post. Countless marketing ideas flashed through his mind.

He had a strong hunch: if tonight’s performance succeeded, this nearly-failed limited spring edition could go viral and revive the brand.

“Ji Fanxing!”

“Ji Fanxing!”

“Ji Fanxing!”

Most of the audience was there for Ji Fanxing’s live performance. Through word of mouth, “Ji Fanxing’s live vocals are truly stunning” had already begun to circulate, and many had come just to experience the shock of seeing her in person.

Fortunately, Ji Fanxing didn’t keep them waiting long. Not far into the show, it was already her and Hailan’s turn.

When the host announced their names, the expressions of most contestants waiting offstage turned sour. In the first episode, she had performed first as well, nearly wiping out the rest of the field.

Only Song Qing watched with a smug smile, waiting eagerly for Ji Fanxing’s “downfall.”

The stage lights dimmed, a gentle spotlight slowly focusing on the center as dry ice mist rolled across the floor.

With the lilting intro, Ji Fanxing stepped forward with airy grace, her pink tulle dress fluttering like a peach blossom fairy from a wonderland.

Her eyes shone like the stars, each movement exuding unparalleled elegance.

Hailan followed close behind, her delicate ribbons draping like dew on cherry branches, fresh and lovely as ever.

The audience held their breath, gazing at these fairy-like figures stepped out of a painting.

Beneath the cascading meteor shower of lights, they raised their hands, palms together, spun in a circle, then drifted apart.

“All blossoms are forbidden—”
“Far away, love grows clear—”
...

Petals danced to the melody, making the stage even more dreamlike and romantic.

In the audience, Song Qing’s eyes brightened as she saw the petals—she’d made sure to add plenty of pollen, hoping to trip Ji Fanxing up on stage.

But to Song Qing’s disappointment, the shower of petals had no effect. Ji Fanxing’s lips parted, and her voice rang out, pure and lingering, like a mountain breeze stirring a sea of flowers.

“At the very least, if this is the end, grant me a flawless smile—”
“Let me close my eyes and press your imprint deep into my heart—”

Song Qing stared at the stage, her nails digging into her palm. Not yet—maybe later.

...

Hailan, pouring her soul into the performance, delivered a rich, resonant voice that contrasted perfectly with her sweet appearance.

“Don’t leave me, distance can’t divide—”

Beneath the stage’s starry glow, the two exchanged emotions through their distinct styles.

“Let me return to that day—”

At the song’s climax, Ji Fanxing’s voice soared with a head resonance, the notes winding and exquisite.

The lights warmed, foam snowflakes rained down, and to the sound of the flute, Hailan began a solo dance—her movements light as a startled swan, embodying the elegance of traditional Chinese dance.

Once again, Ji Fanxing fused tradition into her stage, delivering a flawless visual masterpiece and a godly auditory experience.

Zhang Li, overwhelmed with excitement, whipped out her phone to record the scene—she had personally overseen the set design and wanted to immortalize this breathtaking moment.

Just when the crowd thought beauty had reached its peak, the stage began to rise.

“Don’t leave me, memories won’t fade—”

As the two harmonized, pink petals cascaded from the stage like a tide, wholly overwhelming the audience’s senses.

If the design sketches had promised beauty, the real thing, paired with their heavenly vocals, was nothing short of awe-inspiring.

A stroke of genius in stage design!

Cries of amazement burst from the crowd, soon turning into thunderous applause.

Song Qing clapped along perfunctorily, inwardly elated.

Now all the petals—and all that pollen—had been released. Even a normal person would have been caught off guard and choked; Ji Fanxing was doomed.

But Ji Fanxing did not, as Song Qing had hoped, sneeze, choke, or lose her voice.

She sang the entire song with perfect control.

Though the melody wasn’t fiercely dramatic, tears welled in many eyes—moved by the sheer power of their voices.

Ji Fanxing and Hailan complemented each other, their song imbued with a tragic beauty, ending on a sigh.

“Love songs defeated, love ceases to exist—”
“You will never return—”

As the final note faded, this performance was, without a doubt, the highlight of the night.

In the ultimate enjoyment of beauty, the audience was utterly conquered, both visually and aurally.

When it came time for scoring, both received an impressive 98.5.

Hailan’s ranking climbed back to second place.

With her unparalleled artistic vision, Ji Fanxing once again delivered a little shock to the hearts of the people.

[Case closed! Ji Fanxing isn’t human—no human is this flawless!]
[I’m a dance major and I teared up. To finally see classical dance on a talent show—this choreography is divine!]
[Hailan’s vocals are great. Honestly, I don’t know what happened in the last round.]
[Of all the group performances in these last two episodes, only Ji Fanxing really led her teammate; as for the rest—never mind, I’ll say no more.]
[Preach! My bestie was in the top ten and her teammate sabotaged her and got her eliminated. I’m furious!]
[That’s just how the rules are; teammates are also rivals. Honestly, the drama’s exhausting. Thank goodness for Ji Jie, or I’d have quit watching.]
[Here’s hoping the producers have some sense—more camera time for the King, please! Even if I can’t hear her sing, I could look at her forever—she only gets more beautiful! Never enough!]