Chapter 17: A Flawless Recording

There’s an old saying in the industry: eat your fill before blowing the horn, starve before you sing. Zhang Qiyang had only recently been discharged from the hospital and couldn’t put too much strain on his stomach just yet. That evening, he had barely eaten and went into the recording studio on an almost empty stomach to record “Star of the Night.”

He had provided the main ideas for the arrangement, which East Entertainment’s musicians helped to refine. Their session band worked to recreate the original essence of the song as faithfully as possible.

In his previous life, though Zhang Qiyang had studied directing, he was a man of many talents, having taught himself everything from arrangement and composition to professional pop singing. Recording this kind of song posed no real challenge for him. And now, with his newly acquired golden voice, he held the makings of a future shining star in the music world.

That evening, in the studio, with professional monitoring headphones over his ears, he poured loneliness and brilliance into his ultimate rendition of the song. Outside the booth, the cameraman, Qin Xueyang, and the others were utterly spellbound. They had never imagined that Zhang Qiyang’s singing could be so magnetic.

This studio version of “Star of the Night” was far more moving than the one he’d sung through gritted teeth on “I Sing,” almost to the point of making listeners swoon. The song itself was already capable of stirring the deepest emotions, but when combined with Zhang Qiyang’s young yet world-weary voice, the effect surpassed even that of Runaway Band’s lead singer, Mao Chuan.

That night, Qin Xueyang’s mouth was never still; she constantly munched on shrimp crackers. Even while Zhang Qiyang was in the booth for a test run, she was nervously snacking away. Whenever she was anxious, she couldn’t keep her mouth idle and had to eat to relieve the pressure. Tonight, she was especially tense, afraid that Zhang Qiyang wouldn’t be able to capture the spellbinding quality he’d shown onstage from the very first note.

But once Zhang Qiyang began to sing in earnest, her worries vanished. His lonely yet radiant voice was like an invisible net cast straight into the heart, drawing in the listener’s emotions with irresistible force. Qin Xueyang became so entranced by his singing that she forgot her snacks entirely, feeling as if she’d been swept into a romantic world by his voice—a world filled with a sea of stars, where the brightest one was the man performing so earnestly inside the booth.

The recording engineer, listening to Zhang Qiyang’s near-flawless takes, was filled with an overwhelming sense of admiration. It was his first time recording with Zhang Qiyang. In his mind, Zhang Qiyang had always been a reckless, concept-obsessed dilettante, neither mainstream nor even properly alternative—a veritable black hole of musical mediocrity. The only redeeming quality was his voice, which had potential, but his previous songs had squandered this advantage with their offbeat stylings. To the eyes of professionals, this so-called young master was nothing more than a musical vandal, trampling on the art itself.

Yet tonight, after actually working with him, the recording engineer and several other professionals realized how wrong they had been. This young master possessed a truly professional grasp of music, with unique insights and a breathtaking creative imagination. During their discussion of the arrangement, the suggestions Zhang Qiyang offered—how to convey the song’s atmosphere and emotion at each stage—were more precise and insightful than anything they themselves could muster. This took them by complete surprise.

They had been summoned that night to assist with the recording, all in a spirit of grudging compliance. But after working with Zhang Qiyang, their indifference vanished, replaced by enthusiasm for the project. His creative mind inspired them to aim for a hit single together.

Once the official recording began, Zhang Qiyang’s magnetic, lonely brilliance shone through, expressing every emotion he’d previously described with restraint and precision. The professionals were stunned. For a singer-songwriter, the recording process is also an experimental journey, where countless interpretations are tried before arriving at the most fitting, perfect version. Yet Zhang Qiyang already had the sound and feeling he wanted mapped out in his mind; he sang precisely as he envisioned, with all the texture and emotion he’d discussed.

This gift, the ability to conceive the final version during creation and then embody it flawlessly, was exceedingly rare—a mark of true genius. That night, the musicians saw Zhang Qiyang in an entirely new light. From now on, if anyone dared call him a musical ignoramus, they would be the first to refute it.

It took Zhang Qiyang just three takes to complete “Star of the Night.” When he finished, everyone in the studio gave him a heartfelt thumbs-up, showering him with genuine praise: “Brilliant!” They could already sense that, if well promoted, this song could become a nationwide sensation, flooding every platform. No matter how poor Zhang Qiyang’s reputation might be in public opinion, there was nothing to fault in the song itself—and his performance was even more extraordinary. As long as people listened without prejudice, no one could deny such a soul-stirring work.

After finishing the recording, Zhang Qiyang himself felt invincible—not because of the borrowed song, but because his voice was truly remarkable. It was as if someone who’d never shot a gun suddenly acquired a marksman’s skills: every shot hit the bull’s-eye without effort. Now, every note he sang landed perfectly. The joy was indescribable—he was in love with this golden voice. Paired with the countless hits stored in his mind, it could easily be worth billions.

Once the song was done, he was eager to get it up for sale on Eastern Music Net. The team at Eastern Music Net was just as anxious. Public interest was at its peak; miss this window, and the song’s attention would soon wane.

When word arrived that Zhang Qiyang had finished the digital version, Eastern Music Net’s music team immediately reviewed it. After listening, they were uniformly impressed, awestruck by the emotional power of his performance. Compared to this, the eighteen songs Zhang Qiyang had previously released on their site were beneath mention.

The staff speculated that the song couldn’t have been written by Zhang Qiyang himself—the style was too different from his earlier works, with not a single familiar motif. They guessed it must have come from one of East Entertainment’s musical masters, a custom-tailored masterpiece designed to launch Zhang Qiyang to stardom.

Whoever had written it, the song was bursting with potential. Given Zhang Qiyang’s unique status as the company’s heir apparent, Eastern Music Net called an emergency meeting that very night, deciding to give “Star of the Night” a full-page feature and the strongest possible push on their platform. At nine o’clock that night, the song would premiere.

Coordinating with the release, their online promotion team prepared to work through the night, creating buzz and sharing the song across major forums. East Entertainment’s top critics were all notified: at nine, they were to listen to the song at once and post short reviews on their social media, hyping up this promising new release.

Tonight, Eastern Music Net was gearing up for a major campaign, hoping to drop a bombshell in the stagnant singles market and promote a new track that could take the entire internet by storm.