Chapter 24: The Stunning Rehearsal

The original protagonist’s musical style resembled that of Marilyn Manson from another world—a miraculous blend of gothic and industrial metal, two genres that seemed utterly incompatible. Sadly, the protagonist lacked Manson’s prodigious talent, or rather, he was devoid of any creative genius at all. His fusion of gothic and industrial metal was nothing but a forced amalgamation. Even if his music possessed a soul—its core always revolving around death and destruction—he was unable to convey that spiritual essence through his compositions. Yet he desperately wanted to sing his truth, and in the end, his music degenerated into sickly, manic moans and howls, unbearably grating to the ear. Anyone who genuinely enjoyed his earlier works must have shared his mental afflictions.

In contrast, Manson’s music was irresistibly captivating. There was no other reason—Manson was a musical genius, his notes infused with a kind of magic that struck directly at the soul. “This Is the New Shit” was one of his signature pieces. Though this song was notorious for its explicit, dark themes and brimming with negative energy, the very moment Manson unleashed his fury, listeners could not help but be assailed by his manic screams—an experience akin to being dragged by the hair down a highway at breakneck speed, utterly impossible to stop!

Listening to this track in a good mood could easily sour one’s spirits, but if you were downcast, it could shatter you and resurrect you anew, filling you with a renewed, almost manic energy. It was the sort of song best suited for moments of low spirits—its content saturated with negativity, yet somehow producing the paradoxical effect of a double negative; this was the brilliance of Manson’s talent.

Though he hurled curses throughout the song, at its heart, Manson was railing against hedonism, the rotten core of the American Dream, and the very text of rock music itself. He had foreseen, even in the first decade of the twenty-first century, the greatest limitation of youth music culture: that as young people endlessly celebrated rebellion and aggression, they were blindly treading the same worn path as their forebears. The “New Shit” he sang of—the “fresh new thing,” or perhaps “the new lie”—was precisely those distractions that blinded the youth. The rage in this song was equally applicable to the young people of this world.

In an age where shallow celebrities ruled, the youth of the country endlessly scrolled through social media to keep up with petty scandals—who divorced, who cheated, who used drugs, who fought... just as Manson sang, “bitches and sex, cheating, and a bit more violence.” This was the “news” everyone craved. Utterly pathetic.

Didn’t those online want to hear Zhang Qiyang perform the same old songs filled with negativity? Didn’t they want to see him make a fool of himself? Fine! This week, Zhang Qiyang would perform this song—he would unleash negativity to its very limit! In the end, let’s see who was truly pathetic!

Since Zhang Qiyang had remained at Xingdu and not left, he was the first to arrive at Xingdu TV on Friday, where he rehearsed the song all morning with the music team from “My Song.”

During rehearsal, he toned down the song’s explicitness, revising the lyrics. “Sex” became “Six.” “Bitch” became “Beach.” In rehearsal, he sang, “Brother, brother, brother, beach, beach, beach, party, party, party, 666!” The song’s title remained unchanged: “This Is the New Shit.” He explained to the producers that “new shit” meant something fresh and new. All explicit content in the lyrics had been replaced with similar-sounding words. The narrative now seemed to be about a privileged young man lost in a world of indulgence, consumed as entertainment by the public; angered by this, he erupts into a frenzied, soul-rending climax. But in the end, when his voice falters with the line “So let us entertain you,” it is as though he is pronouncing the death of that young man. In the face of public consumption, the privileged youth ultimately loses himself, perishing utterly, reduced to mere entertainment.

The lyrics Zhang Qiyang wrote for this version were intimately tied to his own identity. The “My Song” production team, led by Luo Tao, watched his rehearsal in full. It was also the first time Chen Ke and Qin Xueyang saw the true form of the piece. They all felt this dark, violent work stood apart from Zhang Qiyang’s earlier themes of death and destruction; instead, it offered a new perspective, exposing the anger and helplessness of a man made into a spectacle for others’ amusement. It was a work with story and attitude—moving them deeply. Both its content and melody were a revelation, as though witnessing a young master reborn through fire.

Especially at the song’s climax, under the relentless, wild heavy metal accompaniment, Zhang Qiyang’s soul-tearing screams delivered a shock that struck every listener to the core. Many watched Zhang Qiyang gripping the microphone at the center of the stage, neck tendons taut as he screamed with abandon, and felt their scalps tingle from the sheer power of the sound, their spirits inexplicably electrified!

True, Zhang Qiyang had often screamed like this before, but previously, his howls were like a knife scraping glass—strange, piercing, intolerably harsh, making listeners want to cover their ears. Yet in this song, his screams seemed to burn with his soul, emptying all his anger and dissatisfaction. His wild, arrogant voice was like a blaze ready to shred everyone present. Such an experience left the audience shaken as never before.

Because the rehearsal started early, many staff members were still groggy. But after hearing Zhang Qiyang’s “This Is the New Shit” twice, everyone was wide awake.

It was as if they’d taken a stimulant—they all wished Zhang Qiyang would sing a few more times, to thrill them again. In his entire season and three episodes as music director for “My Song,” this was the first time Chen Dahai’s team had ever accompanied a vocalist with such a wild, explosive industrial metal style. Using a song like this in competition was a huge risk; most singers would never dare attempt it. But with Zhang Qiyang, no one was surprised.

What did surprise Chen Dahai and his team was just how stunning this song was—especially to professionals like themselves! Never mind the content; the melody, arrangement, and structure were all astonishingly cool. The entire piece overflowed with the creator’s musical genius. The exhilarating arrangement and driving rhythm left Chen Dahai stunned the first time he heard it. He had never seen such bold design—an arrangement that brimmed with explosive power from start to finish, leaving the listener breathless. This was not something an average composer could achieve. Technically, this arrangement was at least ten times more complex than “Night Star.”

Initially, Chen Dahai suspected some producer at Dongyu Entertainment had written the song for Zhang Qiyang—at the very least, that someone else had handled the arrangement. Zhang Qiyang might have written the lyrics and melody, but arrangement was a highly technical skill, and Chen Dahai was sure Zhang Qiyang couldn’t manage it. Yet, try as he might, he couldn’t think of a single music producer at Dongyu capable of such a brilliant arrangement. Reflecting on the content of the song, and on Zhang Qiyang’s discussions about the arrangement and his insights, Chen Dahai was floored when he realized Zhang Qiyang had done the arrangement himself!

He could scarcely believe it—the much-maligned Zhang Qiyang, dismissed by his peers, possessed such musical genius!

During his last rehearsal, Zhang Qiyang had been terse and arrogant, simply telling them how to arrange the instruments before diving straight into practice. That previous song, from a music theory perspective, was a complete mismatch—so much so that Chen Dahai and his team had to stifle their laughter. But this time, Zhang Qiyang returned with a work that left them speechless, and, shedding his former arrogance, discussed with them many ways to achieve an even more shocking effect on stage, enlisting their help to perfect the arrangement and instrumentation.

This transformation in Zhang Qiyang left both the production and music teams with a vivid impression: in tomorrow’s official competition, this young master was about to erupt with brilliance!

For a fleeting moment, Director Luo Tao even entertained a strange premonition: perhaps this young master, far from being an utter failure in music, would prove to be their greatest discovery of the season.

After this electrifying rehearsal, the production team no longer resisted Zhang Qiyang as they once had. On the contrary, they were eagerly anticipating his performance in this week’s episode of “My Song.” All of them could sense that tomorrow, Zhang Qiyang would deliver a performance that would shock everyone and defy all expectations.