In the three days before the finals, Qin Qingzhuo and the Rough Cloud Band went through an extreme rehearsal.
Apart from eating and sleeping, I spend almost all my time in the studio.
Rehearsing over and over again, revising the music score, and perfecting the details is actually a very boring process, far less than the feeling of excitement in my head that came from the continuous burst of inspiration when I was writing songs that afternoon.
However, witnessing a song from its initial fragmented form, gradually being polished into shape, and finally being played completely and smoothly by the band, and even being able to feel a rare resonance during the performance, that sense of accomplishment is still extremely pleasing.
The night before the finals, after the last rehearsal, several people packed up their instruments and prepared to go back to rest early.
As he was walking down the stairs, Zhong Yang was scrolling through his phone and suddenly said, "We have the most comments and likes."
"What?" Jiang Ji asked.
"Here," Zhong Yang handed over the phone, "the program team released the promotional picture for the finals."
Qin Qingzhuo took a look over and saw that the program crew had done a good job of keeping the secret. They only said during the promotion that there would be a mysterious celebrity performing in the finals, and put ambiguous gray and white silhouettes on each band's promotional photos, leaving everyone to guess who had been invited to perform as the backing singer.
Zhong Yang continued to scroll down and commented: "Someone guessed that it was Brother Qing Zhuo..."
He clicked on the comment that speculated on Qin Qingzhuo, and the first comment in the post was: "How could it be Qin Qingzhuo? He got scolded for not singing last time, and he has the nerve to do it again this time?"
"Fuck," Zhong Yang cursed, then clicked on the reply button on the screen and typed "What's wrong with me coming here? It's none of your business..."
Before he finished knocking, Qin Qingzhuo raised his hand and patted his shoulder: "Forget it, Zhong Yang, don't go back."
"It's okay, Brother Qingzhuo," Zhong Yang continued to type on the screen, "I used my trumpet to fight them, no one knew it was me."
"Brother Qingzhuo, you don't have to worry about him," Peng Keshi also said, "He has to fight against 800 people every day."
Qin Qingzhuo laughed and said nothing more.
After lying down in bed and turning off the lights at night, Qin Qingzhuo still felt a little uneasy when he thought about going on stage the next day.
In the past, he could fall asleep quickly when sleeping with Jiang Ji, but tonight he tossed and turned.
Although he controlled his movements and amplitude of turning over, trying not to disturb Jiang Ji's sleep, Jiang Ji still noticed his uneasiness: "Can't sleep?"
"Did I wake you up?" Qin Qingzhuo opened his eyes and looked at him through the night.
"I didn't sleep very well," Jiang Ji said, "What are you thinking about?"
"Do you think we will lose..." Qin Qingzhuo whispered.
"Do you think I care about winning or losing? Zhong Yang and Peng Keshi don't care that much either. Don't think too much."
"But I care. I've never participated in this kind of talent show before, and I thought I was pretty calm. But now I suddenly realize that I really want to win, especially I don't want to lose to City Collapse..."
Jiang Ji laughed: "Then how do you know you can't win?"
Section 128
"I'm worried that you could have won, but because of me you lowered their popularity." Qin Qingzhuo sighed.
"I'm becoming pessimistic again," Jiang Ji thought for a moment, took the phone from the bedside, tapped the screen a few times, and handed it to Qin Qingzhuo, "Take a look at this."