This breath.
The radiance onstage was like the rising sun, spilling light that swept across heaven and earth. It was also like an endless range of snow-covered mountains, weathered and crumbling through the ages.
The abstract yet vivid sorrow filling her entire being was as rich as the water of life. Its 96-proof intensity burned through her like flowing fire, bringing pain that cut to the bone.
But as Chu Yuanqing shifted her singing, the Candy in her ears gradually blurred, seeming to turn into a warm, gentle lullaby. A sense of salvation that touched her soul dispelled the pitch-black despair.
A sacred and solemn hymn began to sing.
In her hazy vision, the Salt Continent slowly sank beneath the waves.
A girl sat alone before the horizon, teasing the sunset reflected on the water with her toes. The profile she revealed as she turned her head was like a lake spirit. Her smiling eyes and lips were intoxicating, and her tender gaze seemed to cross time and space to meet the world from afar—like a blessing, and perhaps a prayer.
In an instant, an immense sense of happiness drowned out the suffocation and loneliness that had come before.
All the illusions faded away like a receding tide, leaving only the slender figure in her field of vision, slowly walking offstage.
The spotlight faded, the false prosperity withered, and only desolation and emptiness remained.
Everyone in the room fell silent.
The audience in the Live Broadcast Room reacted before the contestants did:
"Not as breathtaking as the live version, but even the recording managed to show a bit of Qing God's former brilliance???."
"Ah, I cried again. The more I think about it, the more of a shame it is. A stage like that—an idol might only have a few