CHAPTER 118: CHAPTER 114: LET THE BULLETS FLY FOR A WHILE

Just when everyone was waiting to see if any new songs would be released today, the studio fell completely silent. This was part of the strategy they had set earlier: use the album release as a gimmick to stir up excitement. Once people were drawn in, they released two songs in advance to maintain the buzz and spark controversy. With a half-hour gap between the two tracks, it created a sense of urgency, as if they were eager to release everything at once. But after the two tracks were out, they suddenly stopped any follow-up actions, making no further moves. They let the whole internet freely discuss, guess, and wait, unafraid of stirring controversy—in fact, the bigger the controversy, the better. In Chu Tian’s words from his past life, "Let the bullets fly for a while."

The studio might have been quiet, but those who had been waiting online were anything but calm.

"That’s it? It’s been an hour. Are the rest of the songs coming or not?"

"Damn it, does anyone else feel like we’ve been played? You release a few songs in a day without a word, and now what? Are there more or not? It’s really uncomfortable being left hanging, you know?"

"How can this studio be so despicable? I stayed up all night, just fell asleep, and then got woken up to only two songs? If there’s nothing more, I’m going back to sleep. Can’t you give us a straight answer?"

"Exactly! There’s not even a message. Isn’t this just plain toying with us? That’s so unscrupulous, right?!"

A bunch of their peers grumbled as they camped in front of their computers, constantly refreshing web pages, flipping between music platforms and checking the latest updates from official accounts. But there was no sign of activity on any front. The various entertainment accounts, however, were better prepared. Regardless of whether more songs were coming, they had articles ready about the first two tracks. All sorts of short pieces were prepared and eagerly published.

[Xu Qingqiu’s new album sparks hot debate, colleagues cry wolf!]

[Two lead singles from the new album debut, fans ecstatic over this windfall!]

[Queen of the music scene makes a powerful comeback with new album; four classic tracks cause an uproar across the internet!]

[One album, four lead tracks—is it a gimmick or sheer confidence?]

[...]

One article after another rolled out, each with sensational headlines designed to grab attention, inadvertently drawing in those who weren’t previously paying attention. Many unsuspecting passersby also had their curiosity piqued by this freshly released album. In addition, a wave of influencer accounts eagerly downloaded the songs to create derivative content. Short video platforms were suddenly flooded with videos using the new songs as background music.

The album’s popularity soared, and the studio staff grew increasingly excited. However, two people didn’t quite share this excitement: Chu Tian and Xu Qingqiu.

"Open your mouth. Watch my lips. A~."

"Steady your breath. Don’t let it shake..."

"You need to find the right moment to breathe and also learn to avoid the microphone, understand?"

"What’s the point of rehearsals and sound checks? It’s not for you to check the equipment; that’s the staff’s job. What you need to do is adapt to the equipment and understand its basic parameters, got it?"

"When you get a microphone, you first need to know its limits—both for low notes and high notes. If you don’t get this right, what will you do if the microphone clips during a performance?"

"And then there’s the pickup range. You need to learn to work the mic, to breathe naturally and seamlessly, coordinating with the gaps in the lyrics. This is the most basic skill you must master as a Singer."

While the outside world was in flux, Chu Tian and Xu Qingqiu tirelessly honed their craft in the small recording studio. Following their established learning plan, they practiced breath control while expanding their vocal range. Chu Tian also interspersed various little tricks he had summarized from his previous life. Some things are hard to grasp on one’s own; these are the distilled essence of experiences accumulated by others over a lifetime of navigating various situations. Someone without experience might never encounter these issues, yet a single incident could lead to a significant live performance disaster, like microphone clipping or problems with in-ear monitors. But if an experienced person teaches you, explaining potential problems and how to handle them, you won’t be caught off guard when you face them. This highlights the difference between having guidance and not, and the fundamental disparities between people from different backgrounds and starting points.

"Remember, whether it’s a rehearsal or a sound check, you must first understand the equipment’s limits—whether it’s E5, G5, or perhaps even G#5 or B5."

"If the microphone clips during a sound check, take note of that pitch. Regardless of whether you switch to better equipment, the pitch at which the clipping occurs is that performance’s absolute limit."

"Why do this? Because while other problems can be solved, after a microphone clips, the only solution is to replace the equipment, which means the entire performance is ruined."

"Don’t be swayed by online comments claiming that microphone clipping signifies impressive high notes—that’s utter nonsense. Such an incident only indicates that either the Singer isn’t professional enough or the preparation was inadequate, understand?"

"This applies not just to high notes but to low notes as well. Your talent is remarkable; you can reach D3, even C3. But can you guarantee the equipment will pick it up? If the equipment fails to capture it, no matter how well you perform, you’ll just look like a clown."

Chu Tian imparted the experiences from his previous life without reservation, lessons gleaned from countless live events and unforeseen situations. Without this guidance, Xu Qingqiu might have had to learn slowly through many painful lessons. But with his experience, she was effectively leapfrogging decades of potential detours by standing on the shoulders of giants. As they delved deeper into their training, their synergy and learning pace accelerated, while changes continued to stir in the outside world.

On the first day the new album was released, two old songs were included, and the two new songs sparked immediate, explosive reactions. The fans were overjoyed, passersby were pleasantly surprised, and industry insiders shifted from indifference to keen attention. The release of the third song would be the moment of truth—to see whether it would soar or flop. And the studio did not disappoint.

On the second day of the album’s release, at eight in the morning, the third new song was released without any warning.

"Invisible Wings"? What kind of song is that?

"Just this one song?"

"No way, what’s Xu Qingqiu doing, releasing just one song?"

"She’s not trying to pull the same stunt as yesterday, is she?"

"Nonsense! They’re clearly an inexperienced amateur team. Do they even know how to manage an album release? They’ve already put out the main tracks, and now they aren’t releasing the filler songs all at once? Do they really think every song is a classic?"

"Haha, that’s hilarious. If their operations manager were in front of me, I’d kick them out. Releasing the lead singles first and then daring to drip-feed the rest one by one—they’re clearly clueless about how badly this will end for them."

From the perspective of industry insiders, if the lead singles are released on the first day to generate buzz, then all remaining songs should be released at once. By capitalizing on that momentum, regardless of the songs’ quality, the subsequent tracks would inevitably benefit, whether due to the initial hype or other factors. If releasing everything at once wasn’t feasible, then at least half should be released, with the remainder, including a final flagship track, bundled together for a later release. Only then could the album’s overall profits be maximized.