Chapter 35: Double Kill of Hashim

"Row four, please reveal your boards."
The voting continued, reaching the last row.
Now the audience was curious to see whether Hashim would receive any votes.
The professional judges in the fourth row raised their boards.
An unexpected twist occurred—one of the professionals in the final row held up Hashim’s name.
He Hao raised his eyebrows and asked, “Hashim has received one vote. Let’s ask this judge why they chose Hashim. Did you notice a quality in his music that others missed?”
The professional from Yami Music stood up, accepted the microphone, and replied, “My vote is to encourage Hashim. Though his song wasn’t as good as Fang Xing’s, it was still excellent and didn’t deserve zero votes.”
At these words, not only did Hashim fail to look pleased, he grew even angrier.
He would have preferred no votes at all to receiving a sympathy vote.
His expression twisted with rage; having nowhere to vent, he stood and kicked the railing before him, producing a resounding bang, then stormed out of the venue.
Many people nearby heard the noise and turned to see Hashim leaving the stage, disregarding the established procedures.
However, by this point in the show, his departure no longer mattered.
He Hao went on to announce, “Fang Xing wins with thirty-one votes and becomes tonight’s champion. Please proceed to the advancement seats, Fang Xing.”
Fang Xing walked to the advancement seats and sat beside Wu Junchen.
All five camera rigs focused in, capturing both of them in frame.
“In tonight’s PK segment, the ultimate winners are Captain Wu Junchen and Captain Fang Xing. Congratulations to both captains.”
...
The recording for the second public performance came to an end.
Fang Xing, Lu Ming, Shao Yu, Guo Keda, and Wang Huajun were called by the producers to the interview room for a post-show interview.
“Congratulations on your overwhelming victory,” the producer began.
“Thank you,” the group replied politely.
“Having won tonight, how do you feel? To what do you attribute your success?” the producer continued, following the script.
“It’s all thanks to our captain. Both songs were amazing—mind-blowing, really. I read the lyrics to ‘The Hard Sutra’; honestly, I wouldn’t even want to try reciting it, let alone singing it,” Guo Keda exclaimed, pulling a dramatic face.
“The choreography was stunning, too. Who came up with the idea for the flying monk’s robe? Was it Wang Huajun’s suggestion?” the producer pressed on.
Wang Huajun replied in a formal tone, “That was also our captain’s idea. At first, I was supposed to perform an aerial dance, but I hadn’t thought of using the red robe. After our captain watched my rehearsal, he suggested the idea.”

“What about the shaved head?” the producer asked.
“The bald look was all part of the monk’s robe concept. We prepared a headpiece in advance. For the first half of the performance, I wore a wig over it. After the descent from the lift, I removed the wig, revealing the bald head,” Wang Huajun revealed, exposing the quick-change secret.
After questions about the performance, the producer shifted to the PK segment: “Fang Xing, on stage you mentioned that ‘The Hard Sutra’ is difficult to sing. Do you think anyone could master this song?”
Fang Xing replied offhandedly, “Is it hard? Let the audience try and see.”
Among the general audience, particularly those who speak Cantonese, there are certainly some who could sing the song fluently. But among professional singers, very few would dare to cover it.
Seeing the next question on the script, the producer’s smile took on a peculiar twist: “The following question comes from the chief director.
‘Fang Xing, you declared on stage that the production team shouldn’t expect to eliminate anyone from your team. Were you serious?’”
Fang Xing spread his hands and replied, “As long as the rules don’t change.”
The producer pressed on, “Do you think the rules will change?”
“They will,” Fang Xing answered without hesitation.
“If the rules change, do you think you can still protect your teammates?”
“That depends on the new rules. If you break up the teams and reorganize them, what more is there to say?” Fang Xing shrugged.
In both the first and second public performances, the teams had been reshuffled.
If the third round brought another reshuffle,
then keeping his promise to take his teammates to the finals would be nearly impossible.
The rules were set by the producers, who could even control the results through them.
In fact, Fang Xing’s open challenge to the production team on stage was a tactic to provoke Director Tong Fei, to see if she would respond directly or change the rules.
...
The recording concluded.
In the section reserved for the director’s team, a middle-aged man sat in silent contemplation.
This area always had a few extra seats prepared for representatives from the production or investors to observe.
The man now seated among the director’s group was none other than Liu Rongxuan, Artist Director of Chao Yin Culture.
He was the mastermind behind the likes of Wu Junchen and Liu Yichen, a key force behind their fame.
He was also one of the shareholders of Chao Yin Culture, effectively the company’s second-in-command.
When the public performance ended, Chief Director Tong Fei walked over with a graceful stride and sat beside Liu Rongxuan. “Director Liu, do you have any advice for me?”

Though she used the word “advice,” everyone in the industry knew that Tong Fei, the queen of talent shows, never allowed investors to meddle in the production process.
She was that assertive, and no investor had ever interfered with her projects—she’d never failed before.
The ‘Star of Tomorrow’ project had more than one investor: Penguin Video, Chao Yin Culture, and Tong Fei’s own Feifan Entertainment all invested jointly.
Penguin Video led the project and invited Tong Fei as chief director.
Penguin Video’s main interest was the broadcasting rights and the bulk of advertising revenue. The production itself was entirely entrusted to Feifan Entertainment.
On paper, Penguin Video was the largest investor, but after several seasons of collaboration, they rarely interfered in production details.
Thus, almost all the project’s authority lay with Tong Fei.
Still, as an investor, Chao Yin Culture retained some oversight over the production.
Liu Rongxuan looked at Tong Fei with an appreciative gaze and said, “My main reason for coming today is to ask about Fang Xing’s contract.”
With the sudden popularity of ‘Nocturne’ and ‘Wild Bird,’ Fang Xing had naturally attracted the attention of major entertainment companies.
The contracts for ‘Star of Tomorrow’ trainees were, in fact, a little complicated.
Penguin Video only claimed the broadcast rights and the lion’s share of ad revenue.
The trainees’ management contracts were not with Penguin Video.
Feifan Entertainment, as the producer, likewise did not manage the trainees.
Chao Yin Culture, within this program, controlled the fixed-term group contracts.
In other words, the trainees who ultimately debuted as a group would sign a two-year group agreement with Chao Yin Culture.
However, many trainees already had original management companies.
Wu Junchen and Liu Yichen’s original company was Chao Yin Culture, so their contracts presented no issues.
Yet, the 101 trainees of ‘Star of Tomorrow’ came from 36 different agencies.
Therefore, those who debuted would hold a group contract with Chao Yin Culture and a separate management deal with their original company.
This created a web of complex relationships.
In the first season, some debuting members had even ended up in contract disputes with their original companies due to this complexity.
When Liu Rongxuan noticed the explosive popularity of ‘Nocturne’ and ‘Wild Bird’ online, he began to pay special attention to Fang Xing.
This time, he had come in person to watch the performance recording with another purpose in mind: Fang Xing’s contract.