ECG -Chapter 73 Love in a Small Village

Lin Hao could only smile bitterly. Women’s thoughts really were difficult to understand. Even though he had known countless women in his previous life, he still wasn’t very good at figuring out what they were thinking.

Take Fourth Sister, for example. She was clearly someone from the jianghu world, so why would a simple joke from him make her angry?

After hanging up the phone, Fourth Sister sat there in a daze for quite a while.

I’m only thirty years old… How could I already be old?

She tossed the phone onto her desk and walked to a full-length mirror in the corner. Gently touching her smooth face, she saw not a single wrinkle.

I’m not old.

How could I possibly be old?

Returning to her desk, she sat down in the large leather chair, opened a drawer, and took out a photo album.

In one six-inch color photograph, she was wearing a pink swimsuit. Behind her stood a strong, well-built man. Both of them were smiling brightly. Happiness radiated from Fourth Sister’s face, and behind them stretched the vast Songhua River.

The man appeared noticeably younger than her. His facial features were sharp and handsome, but even his smile could not completely hide the trace of melancholy in his eyes.

Tears streamed down Fourth Sister’s face.

Gently caressing the photo, she murmured,

“Chen Yu… when will you finally come out? I’m so afraid… so afraid that by then, I really will be old…”

A long time passed.

She quietly closed the album and returned it to the drawer.

Then she picked up the phone.

“Brother, is there any progress with Chen Yu’s case?”

The sound of mahjong tiles clattering could be heard from the other end.

“Xiaoyun, it’s a twenty-year sentence. I’ve already poured a lot of money into it. Even with sentence reductions, it has to be done step by step. You… sigh! Let’s talk when we meet. That’s all for now.”

He Qing hung up.

Annoyed, he pushed away the mahjong tiles.

“Let’s take a break.”

The other three players could tell he was in a bad mood, so none of them dared say a word.

He Qing walked into the small courtyard outside and sat in a rattan chair beside the fish pond. Lighting a cigarette, he frowned deeply.

Chen Yu, Chen Yu… you’re really a troublesome guy.

He scratched his head.

That silly girl is so stubborn. Why can’t she let this go?

Does she really intend to wait for him to get out?

There are still more than ten years left!

How is she supposed to endure that?

At the Grand Concert Hall of the Music Department, Provincial Academy of Arts.

The contestants finally began performing after enduring the leaders’ lengthy speeches.

Lin Hao watched attentively.

There were simply too many classic songs stored in his memories from his previous life, and he couldn’t possibly sing them all himself. He already had a clear plan in mind. That was why he had freely given Liu’er and his group four songs and let Han Ying owe him payment for two more.

The first kite was still lying on the ground, but the second kite had already taken flight. He believed it wouldn’t be long before they started bringing him returns.

Still, whether he was selling songs or cultivating new talent, none of it could be rushed—especially while his own foundation remained unstable.

Another consideration was character and professionalism.

If a singer wasn’t suited for a particular song, he wouldn’t sell it no matter how much money was offered.

And if someone’s character was poor, then no matter how talented or professionally qualified they were, he wouldn’t support or promote them.

Those were his rules.

And he believed that one day everyone would know and respect those rules.

Onstage, Ding Lanlan was performing the folk song “Mountain Girl”.

The tune was rich with Sichuan folk flavor. Although Ding Lanlan’s vocal skills and stage presence were still somewhat immature, she infused the song with remarkable charm and feeling.

The judges seated in the front rows nodded in approval.

After she finished singing, the judges awarded her 89 points, the highest score so far in the competition.

Warm applause erupted throughout the hall.

There were ten judges in total, each with the authority to award up to ten points, making 100 the maximum score. The rules of the selection competition were simple and direct—the rankings would be determined entirely by the final scores.

When Han Youdong stepped onto the stage and began to sing, there were still some teasing shouts from the audience. However, Lin Hao finally relaxed his brows. The male contestant before her had sung so terribly that he honestly had no idea where the guy had gotten the confidence to perform.

Han Youdong possessed an exceptionally wide vocal range. The song Wind and Sand belonged to the Northwestern folk style, and she delivered its deep affection for one’s homeland perfectly. Her voice was both rugged and heroic, yet delicate at the same time, causing Lin Hao to nod repeatedly in appreciation.

“How’s Big-Butt Han’s singing?” Wu Xiaozhou asked into his ear.

Lin Hao lowered his voice and replied, “Her technique and vocal qualities are both excellent. She’s even more promising than Ding Lanlan.”

Wu Xiaozhou curled his lips dismissively.

In the end, Han Youdong scored 91 points, two points higher than Ding Lanlan.

Next, six girls dressed in flowing white gowns walked onto the stage. Without any instrumental accompaniment, they performed Anya Saint Road.

Listening to the pure and sacred song, Lin Hao’s eyes lit up with delight.

Six girls. Six vocal parts.

Their beautiful and harmonious voices seemed to gently knock upon the listeners’ hearts.

What impressed him most was that the two girls singing the lower parts maintained perfect pitch throughout the entire performance without a single noticeable deviation.

Lin Hao silently memorized the name of the vocal ensemble: White Feather.

He also understood that in an era dominated by pop music, a group like this would never be able to compete with those sweet-girl idol groups showing off their long white legs while dancing around the stage.

But the world needed voices like these.

These were voices capable of touching the soul.

And he felt obligated to help such voices continue to be heard.

As he had expected, White Feather ultimately received 86 points. Fortunately, they still ranked first in the choir category for the moment.

Finally, it was Bai Zhitao’s turn.

Today, she wore a white evening gown adorned with rhinestones that reflected countless tiny points of light.

The accompanying band consisted of third-year students. They had received the sheet music for the song three days earlier.

The music began.

“A winding little river,
Green hills all around,
Nestling beside a small village…”

The moment Bai Zhitao opened her mouth to sing, a simple and refreshing aura washed over the audience. Her voice flowed gently through the hall like a clear stream.

Several judges began whispering among themselves. None of them had ever heard this song before. When they learned that both the lyrics and composition were created by a piano major student, surprise immediately appeared on their faces.

The instrumental break was brief, and Bai Zhitao’s spoken narration followed:

“In my dreams,
I return once more
To that unforgettable hometown…”

Her voice was natural, sincere, and rich with warmth. On stage, every gesture and movement was graceful and poised.

Everyone became immersed in the beautiful singing.

Scenes from their childhood hometowns slowly unfolded before their eyes.

It was as if they could smell the fragrance of earth and fresh grass once again…

At the judges’ table:

Dean Li Bohan leaned toward Fan Gang and quietly asked, “The lyrics and composition were really written by that Lin Hao?”

Fan Gang nodded, his eyes filled with satisfaction.

“The lyrics are beautiful,” Li Bohan said, patting his shoulder. “Not a single flashy or overly ornate phrase, yet every line is exquisitely crafted.”

He looked at Fan Gang with obvious envy.

“You old fox—you’ve found yourself a treasure.”

The first section of Love for a Small Village progressed with a calm and gentle melody, moving mainly in stepwise motion. While tender and lingering in sentiment, it painted the village river, blue skies, hills, and fragrant flowers before the audience like a traditional ink painting.

The second section formed a striking contrast in vocal range with the first. Especially after Bai Zhitao’s heartfelt interpretation, it expressed an even deeper attachment to her hometown.

As the song approached its ending, tears glistened in Bai Zhitao’s eyes.

Softly, she said:

“Love for a Small Village is dedicated to all of you. Thank you to my instructor, Wei Yimin. Thank you to Lin Hao, the songwriter and composer. And thank you, everyone!”

Somewhere in the audience, one person rose to their feet first.

Then more and more people stood up.

Most had reddened eyes.

The applause surged toward the stage like a rising tide.