Chapter 127: Proud Father, You Have Worked Hard

After stepping off the stage, Qiao Yuezhu hid in the lounge, frantically scrolling through the trending topics online, even reading Zheng Wenyan’s official statement in its entirety.

Once she finished, her eyes went vacant and her expression turned dull.

It seemed she was finished.

No!

She was definitely finished.

With even Zheng Wenyan abandoning her, who else would stand up for her?

When she first climbed into Zheng Wenyan's bed, she thought she had latched onto a powerful benefactor, but she never expected that this benefactor would be covered in thorns, piercing her with agonizing pain.

One of her feet had already stepped over the threshold of the entertainment industry, but the other remained trapped in that hotel forever.

Soon, a look of hatred surfaced on Qiao Yuezhu’s face.

If she couldn't have an easy life, then Zheng Wenyan shouldn't either.

We’ll all go down together!

...

Back on stage.

Wang Situ was still wearing her white qipao, microphone in hand.

"Wang Situ, what song will you be performing?" the judge asked.

As long as the song Wang Situ chose wasn't absolute garbage, she was guaranteed to win.

Wang Situ’s eyes grew distant. A figure appeared in her mind; though the silhouette wasn't particularly tall or imposing, and he hadn't provided her with a life of luxury, she remained filled with gratitude.

"Father."

The title was simple. Anyone could tell what the song was about.

"I want to sing this song for my dad," Wang Situ said with a smile.

She had never complained about the hardships of her life.

The judge nodded in acknowledgement.

The music began.

In the next second, the stage lights dimmed, leaving only a few faint beams of white light shining down on Wang Situ, creating a small circle of light around her.

Instantly, the entire venue fell silent.

The murmurs and vicious comments about Qiao Yuezhu that had previously flooded the live chat vanished completely.

The screen on the stage displayed the song's credits.

"Father"
Vocals: Wang Situ
Lyrics: Chen Fang
Composition: Chen Fang
Arrangement: Chen Fang
Backing Vocals: Future Stars Band, Hope Children’s Choir

Unsurprisingly, this song was another work from Chen Fang.

Even though everyone had expected it, seeing Chen Fang’s name listed as the creator still drew gasps of awe. Writing songs had never been a challenge for him. Looking at the entire Chinese music scene, Chen Fang remained a freak of nature.

One had to remember, Chen Fang had even found time to participate in the reality show *Let’s Fall in Love*. On that program, he had composed three explosive hits, and combined with today’s songs, *Lady Shexiang* and *Father*, Chen Fang had created five songs in just over a week—nearly one new hit every single day.

Chen Fang was no mere human.

He was a god! A god of the music industry!

"It’s fortunate we made our names early," sighed one of the pop divas on the judging panel. "Otherwise, competing in the same era as Chen Fang would be utterly despairing."

The music scene used to be a garden of competing beauties, but now, every artist of Chen Fang’s generation paled in comparison. The current Chinese music scene seemed to be slowly becoming a solo show for Chen Fang alone. The key was that Chen Fang was still so young, and youth meant infinite possibilities and hope for the future.

"I’m tempted to ask Chen Fang to write a song for me," Zhou Chuanxiong mused.

Even the young king of hip-hop was pondering whether Chen Fang understood rap; if so, he wanted him to write a track as well.

The four judges were lost in their own thoughts. At that moment, Wang Situ began to sing softly.

*“Always taking from you, yet never saying thank you. It wasn't until I grew up that I understood how hard things were for you. Every time I left, you’d pretend to be carefree, smiling and telling me to go, while your eyes welled with tears as you turned away.”*

Wang Situ was smiling, but tears streamed from the corners of her eyes.

She was grateful that her father was still alive, and that she still had time to repay him. Wang Situ knew well that her father’s life was exhausting; ever since her mother passed away, Wang Jiawei had hardly ever smiled.

There were many things she hadn't understood as a child. For instance, making money was hard—but just how hard? Wang Situ hadn't grasped the difficulty in her youth, but after Wang Jiawei was injured and hospitalized, she finally realized: making money was truly grueling, and her father had lived every day in such exhaustion just to support her.

Wang Situ didn't use vocal techniques; she sang purely with emotion.

Emotion sparked resonance! The more authentic the feeling, the more it allowed the audience to empathize.

In a trance, countless people thought back to their own childhoods. They thought of their fathers—men with little education and no special skills—who supported the entire family and their childhood lives, one drop of sweat at a time.

Dad... making money is truly hard. I don't know how you managed to support such a large family back then... Now that I’m grown up, why does it feel so difficult just to support myself?

*“Time, please slow down; don't let him grow old anymore. I would give everything I have to let your years linger. My lifelong, strong-willed father, what can I do for you? Please accept this small, insignificant care. Thank you for everything you’ve done, for supporting our home with your own two hands. You always gave your all to give me the best. Am I your pride? Are you still worrying about me? Your child, who you always held dear, has finally grown up.”*

She wished for time to be gentle, to let that man of few words suffer less under the carving blade of the years. That man called "Dad" had tried to keep his back straight, tried his best to provide, and even when life placed immense pressure on him, he never let his bowed spine show before his family.

Wang Situ remembered the first thing Wang Jiawei said when he was hospitalized, and she remembered it with perfect clarity: "Tutu, Dad is useless. I couldn't save your mother, and now I can’t even earn money."

That time, Wang Jiawei cried. It was the first time he had cried in front of her. Even when her mother died, he hadn't wept before her; he had simply stood on a floor littered with cigarette butts, his eyes bloodshot, and picked her up while saying, "Tutu, Dad is taking you home."

Thinking of this, Wang Situ’s tears gushed forth. Back then, she could cry without restraint, venting her sorrow, but her father? He couldn't. He didn't even have the luxury of time to grieve before he had to rush out to make money.

Now, Wang Situ was twenty-five. She wanted to tell her father: Dad, I’ve grown up.

At this moment, the eyes of the tens of thousands of audience members in the venue were red. Having grown accustomed to the lovesick wailing of pop songs, they were deeply touched to hear a song about the bond of family.

At the judges' table, the four of them were also filled with emotion. They had spent so many years in the industry and had seen countless impressive newcomers, but Wang Situ was the only one who could captivate everyone simply by pouring out her raw emotions.

Admittedly, the song was of high quality, but Wang Situ’s own performance was just as vital. This young woman in her twenties was using her performance to conquer thousands of listeners, one by one, conquering everyone who heard her voice.