Chapter 58: Reflections on Life

Zhang Qiyang, like a film director or an online novelist, spun stories for the three women, weaving the threads of his new life. Yet the tales he told were not baseless fantasies; rather, they were wild yarns built upon reason and evidence.

The original song of “Exaggeration,” titled “Depression,” was composed by Hong Kong musician C.Y. Kong on April 1st, 2003, in London. Upon hearing the news of his friend Leslie Cheung’s death, Kong wrote the piece to convey his grief over losing a beloved companion. The shock and incomprehension upon hearing of Leslie’s passing weighed heavily on Kong’s heart, prompting him to create this dark, twisted, sorrowful, and collapsing melody.

Later, Eason Chan, preparing to release a new album, chose this composition, intending to write his own lyrics as a tribute to Leslie. This was the only time Eason ever considered penning lyrics himself. Yet the uniqueness of the song made it impossible for him to craft words that satisfied his feelings, so he entrusted the task to the legendary lyricist of the post-Cantopop era, Wai Man Wong.

Wai Man Wong pondered deeply but could not produce a better work to commemorate Leslie. Thus, he shifted the narrative within the song from mourning a hero to the desperate cry of a small, struggling figure, turning it into the iconic anthem, “Exaggeration.”

At this moment, Zhang Qiyang recounted the origins of the song to Li Xuan and her companions: “This melody is one of my treasures, tucked away for years. I’ve never been able to write lyrics for it, because no words could capture the collapse I felt when composing it.”

Li Xuan, Chen Ke, and Qin Xueyang interpreted Zhang Qiyang’s words as a reflection of the trauma caused by his mother’s passing, and their hearts were deeply moved. Especially Qin Xueyang, who never imagined such a story lay hidden behind the song. It turned out that “Exaggeration” was a deep scar in Zhang Qiyang’s soul, which explained why his performance was so uniquely powerful.

“Only recently has the entertainment world brought me countless troubles and sparked new ideas. One day, I realized this melody suited the current state of the industry, so I transformed it into the anguished shout of a marginalized entertainer. I’m quite satisfied with this work. Listen for it during tomorrow’s competition.”

Chen Ke, not wanting the conversation to slip into sorrow, teased Zhang Qiyang: “You’re leaking plenty of intel here, telling our Li Xuan your song ahead of time!”

Li Xuan smiled, “That’s nothing—you should hear about the song I’ve prepared…”

Zhang Qiyang raised his hand to interrupt, “No, no! Leave me some suspense. You’re all singing classics—if you tell me, I’ll know right away, and there’ll be no anticipation for the contest. I’m different; I sing unpublished new songs. Even if I tell you, you won’t know what I’m performing. Except for this glutton next to me.”

He glanced at Qin Xueyang, who was devouring noodles with sauce smeared all over her face.

Chen Ke and Li Xuan looked at Qin Xueyang, her comical appearance eliciting laughter.

Qin Xueyang glared at Zhang Qiyang in embarrassment, retorting, “You’re the idiot! But your ‘Exaggeration’ is truly brilliant. I used to think you were just writing about some twisted, perverted character in the entertainment industry, based on yourself. I never imagined such a sorrowful story was behind it. Now, thinking back on your song, I feel I understand your emotions even better.”

Qin Xueyang’s revelation stirred Li Xuan’s curiosity and anticipation for Zhang Qiyang’s “Exaggeration”—she could hardly wait to hear it.

Ever since she was stunned by Zhang Qiyang’s mind-blowing vocals in “Fresh Waste” last week, Li Xuan had been looking forward to his musical performances. Yesterday, she listened online to his “Ten Miles of Spring Wind” and was deeply impressed by his folk singing style.

Before the Zhou Shilin incident, she had deeply despised Zhang Qiyang, the brainless scion of a wealthy family, ignorant of life’s hardships. Yet she still appreciated the essence of his music, discarding its flaws. Today, after learning more about him, Li Xuan was even more eager to hear the new works of this young master who seemed far less frivolous and reckless than everyone imagined.

Chen Ke set down her bowl of porridge, smiling shrewdly at Zhang Qiyang, her eyes revealing a hint of sharpness. She asked, “Yang, have you been composing new songs lately?”

Zhang Qiyang replied, “I’ve always written songs—even before I debuted. After debuting, I never stopped.”

Qin Xueyang quipped, “That’s true, but what you used to write… hmm, I won’t comment. Now that you’ve had a breakthrough, you finally write proper songs.”

“Are you sure my songs are proper?” Zhang Qiyang countered.

Qin Xueyang pondered, “Well, maybe not entirely—though they’re definitely more enjoyable than before.”

“If I said I used to deliberately write songs to disgust people, would you hit me? Ha ha.”

Chen Ke and Li Xuan were taken aback.

Qin Xueyang understood, “We wouldn’t hit you, just think you’re a weirdo. But it’s certainly something you’d do.”

“What’s weird about it? I always felt the world was disgusting me, so I used music to disgust it in return. Isn’t that normal?”

Li Xuan exclaimed, “Did you really… intentionally write those terrible songs to disgust others?”

“Terrible songs…” Zhang Qiyang was momentarily speechless. Self-deprecation was fine, but when others mocked him, the original consciousness deep in his bones was still triggered, and three dark lines appeared on his forehead.

Li Xuan realized her slip, laughed awkwardly, and waved her hand, saying, “No… sorry, I was just too shocked. Your previous songs… erm… are really hard to judge.”

“Ha ha, enough—you don’t have to rub salt in my wounds. I know the quality of my old songs. I wrote them to disgust people. No need to be surprised; that’s who I am. Whoever disgusts me, I disgust in return. If this world disgusts me, I disgust it back. Call me childish, but I am who I am—a firework of a different color.”

Zhang Qiyang nearly burst into song as he spoke.

Qin Xueyang, eating her fourth bowl of noodles to steady her nerves, nodded like a drum, agreeing that Zhang Qiyang was indeed an eccentric unlike any other.

But Zhang Qiyang shifted the subject: “After a serious illness last time, I suddenly had a revelation. It was the day I first appeared on ‘My Song,’ right before I sang ‘Night Star.’ My stomach was so upset I thought I’d die. They say before death, your life flashes before your eyes. That day, as I crouched in the bathroom, feeling like my insides would explode, I saw my whole life pass by.”

Qin Xueyang looked at the dark sauce and noodles in her bowl, her expression turning sour, and glared at Zhang Qiyang, complaining, “Can’t you reflect on life in a more refined way? I’m eating here, and you’re talking about diarrhea?”

“What should I talk about then—defecation?”

“Ugh…”

Qin Xueyang nearly retched.

Li Xuan, her interest piqued by Zhang Qiyang, urged him, “Go on, don’t let this chubby girl interrupt.”

“Yes, so that day, while I was suffering in the bathroom, feeling like I might die, it suddenly dawned on me—not the world disgusted me, but I disgusted myself. I nearly died from my own bowel movements…”

Qin Xueyang was close to tears, “I’ll call you big brother! Can you stop with the disgusting talk? I’m eating!”

“I felt just as disgusted as you do now. I’d sickened myself so much I finally had an epiphany. Afterwards, you saw the change yourselves. You must have noticed something different about me—well, you’re right, I have changed. My heart changed; it felt like a rebirth. To say something that may disgust you—now, everything in the world seems more beautiful and lovable than ever, as if everything is worth singing about. Even those who slander, scold, and mock me—sometimes I think they’re quite adorable, so I’d rather respond to them with better melodies. That’s what ‘Fresh Waste’ is about.”

Qin Xueyang spat out her noodles, threatening, “If you mention waste again, I’ll get mad!”

Li Xuan’s beautiful eyes shone with understanding and appreciation, “So that’s how ‘Fresh Waste’ came to be.”

Chen Ke, however, still harbored doubts about Zhang Qiyang’s explanation.

Zhang Qiyang, now in high spirits, declared, “Now I feel the urge to sing about anything I see.”

Qin Xueyang, still annoyed at Zhang Qiyang for sickening her, pouted, “Stop bluffing. Do you have the urge to sing about street vendors? You always hated them—if you don’t insult them, that’s enough. Singing about them? Please.”

Her words didn’t provoke Zhang Qiyang but severely agitated Li Xuan. Qin Xueyang didn’t realize that Li Xuan came from a single-parent family, losing her father early; her mother was a market vendor, struggling to raise her alone. It was during a summer break in her first year of high school, helping her mother sell vegetables in a fishing village market, that she was discovered by an East Entertainment talent scout filming on location.

Hearing Qin Xueyang claim that Zhang Qiyang hated vendors, Chen Ke was startled and quickly glanced at Li Xuan, noticing a faint frown and a fleeting look of displeasure on her exquisitely beautiful face.

Chen Ke’s heart sank halfway. The evening’s conversation had been going well, and it was clear Li Xuan no longer found Zhang Qiyang so objectionable. But now, the chubby girl’s remark threatened to ruin everything—a classic case of a teammate sabotaging a promising situation.