Theme Song (Two-in-One)

Thus, it was both a rescue and an act of self-preservation.

Author's note:

Here are the lyrics to the theme song, "To The Stars," that have appeared so far. I don't know any music theory and just made them up, so I hope there aren't any mistakes!

*

(Verse)

Little me, chosen by you.

My dream is no longer a bubble that bursts at a touch.

Please look at me, don't give up on me.

Tonight I will shine for you.

(Chorus)

To the stars. To the stars.

Never backing down, I'll charge toward the top with all my might.

To the stars. To the stars.

Never giving up, dreams shine like stars.

To the stars. To the stras.

I'm your only star.

Chapter 22: Theme Song (Two-in-One)

After all forty-two had taken turns singing, Jiang Xiaoting had a clear understanding of Class F's overall grasp of the theme song, which was—

They basically had none.

The distribution of talent in the class was a microcosm of the show itself, shaped like a pyramid. Very few stood out, and most of those who did were trainees who had dropped to Class F because of serious mistakes in their initial stage performances. Even Lai Yudong, a KTV-level singer, was in the upper-middle ranks of this miniature pyramid.

Judging by the results, the class assignments were fairly just.

Faced with a group of struggling and problem students, Jiang Xiaoting couldn't take things as easily as she had with Class A and Class B. After switching off the backing track, she played the electronic keyboard and led them through the song slowly, one line at a time.

The first run-through was a hand-holding tutorial, and the second was a demonstration at the original speed. After those two rounds, she gave the trainees fifteen minutes to practice, then had everyone sing for her one by one in front of the whole class.

"You came in early again. You were the first to come in early last time, too. Count to three in your head before you sing."

"Rhythm, pay attention to the rhythm! You're singing too fast!"

"Nice high notes, but your expression is too fierce. Practice more in front of a mirror."

"Too weak. You don't have enough breath support; you need to work on your lung capacity."

As soon as they opened their mouths, their shortcomings were laid bare before a professional. Jiang Xiaoting's eyes locked firmly onto each singer like a radar, ruthlessly pinpointing their problems and offering ways to improve.

Trainees with a stronger aptitude could correct themselves on the spot under their teacher's guidance and show marked improvement when they sang again. But not everyone achieved the same results. Some were like blocks of wood that just wouldn't catch on, singing the same thing over and over without much difference, while others had problems that couldn't be corrected in a short time.

Lai Yudong belonged to the latter group.

Whether by design or coincidence, the section he was asked to sing happened to contain the line, "Please look at me, don't give up on me."

Jiang Xiaoting pressed the last key and looked at the pale-blond youth, who was nervously hiding his lyric sheet behind his back. She gave an objective assessment. "Your pitch and rhythm aren't much of a problem, and your tone is very good, but that's not enough to conceal the shortcomings in your singing technique. There are a lot of problems, and they're very obvious."

"First," she asked the soul-searching question, "your voice is too quiet. Are you afraid to sing?"

"Sorry."

Lai Yudong didn't want to muddle through vocal class using the same way of speaking he'd used these past two days. He wanted to show what he could really do, but he was also afraid that going too far would arouse suspicion, so he had no choice but to deliberately soften his voice.

Since the teacher had pointed out his mistake, he immediately dropped to his knees in apology.

"You don't need to apologize to me. Just be aware of it and correct it." Jiang Xiaoting continued, "Second, your enunciation is overly precise. Clear diction is a good thing, but you're pronouncing every word too fully, with no variation in emphasis, so there's no change in the layers. That makes it sound unnatural."

"..."

In a broadcasting student's life, it was rare to be told not to enunciate too clearly.

I deliberately toned down my pronunciation, Lai Yudong thought, feeling aggrieved. It's not as though I lost my mind and sang in a broadcaster's voice.

Some habits were probably already etched into his DNA.

Jiang Xiaoting twisted the knife. "One last thing: you need to correct your placement. You're right not to sing from your throat, but when singing, you should use your head and abdominal cavities."

Lai Yudong: "..."

His defenses shattered. A broadcasting student had been told his vocal placement was wrong.

Though it sounded a little complicated and overly technical, it was simple when put in plain language: broadcasting and singing used different vocal placements.

Voice production was divided into three parts: breath, articulation, and resonance chambers.

Broadcasting and hosting used combined chest and abdominal breathing, with the natural voice producing precise, clear, and full diction, and emphasized resonance in the chest, mouth, and nasal cavities.

Vocal singing, on the other hand, used abdominal breathing, involved switching between natural and falsetto voices and between vocal ranges, and emphasized being relaxed and natural while flexibly using resonance in the mouth, head, and chest cavities.

Clearly, though the two were different, they had things in common. With enough practice, one could do well at both broadcasting and singing.

The problem was that long-established habits were hard to change immediately.

Jiang Xiaoting had Lai Yudong practice a few times using a vocal technique suited to singing. It helped, but not much, and it only worked for that particular section. If he sang a different section on his own, his true form would be exposed.

Class time was limited; they couldn't spend it all waiting for him to correct himself completely. Since the demonstration had served its purpose, all he could do was practice repeatedly on his own after class.

Lai Yudong found it hard to say whether dance class or vocal class was more painful.

One was building a skyscraper from scratch on level ground, without even being given materials, only a set of blueprints he couldn't understand.

The other was painstakingly finishing a skyscraper, only to be told at the last minute to tear it down and build an amusement park.

So why on earth did they have to make me join an idol survival show?! (Table flip)

If they'd sent me to compete on Chinese Poetry Conference, I might even have made it to the finals. On a survival show, the only place you'd see me is in the practice room at four in the morning!

System: [Host, you have the highest compatibility with this instance. Please do not sell yourself short.]

Lai Yudong: [I suggest you run your words through your cyber brain before you speak.]

From the end of vocal class to the theme song evaluation, Lai Yudong had less than forty-eight hours of free practice time in total. Keeping to the principle of saving wherever he could, he cut his sleep as much as possible.