Chapter Eleven: A Voice Beyond Compare

Qin Nuanyu’s heart trembled. She couldn’t explain it, but at that very moment, Yang Xiaofan gave her an utterly unique feeling. It was as if, suddenly, Yang Xiaofan was capable of anything.

She no longer tried to stop him, and Yang Xiaofan stepped forward, preparing to sing. Off to the side, Wang Ze shook his head with disdain.

“Idiot, you don’t know what you’re in for.”

Yang Xiaofan heard the mockery, but couldn’t be bothered to respond. In his mind, he spent a million, instantly elevating his singing ability to that of a grandmaster.

At this level, he could easily outshine ninety-nine percent of the singers in the world today.

As the accompaniment began, Yang Xiaofan started to sing with deep emotion.

“In the early morning, I stand on the lush green pasture…”

“Stop!” Yang Xiaofan had barely begun when Wang Ze interrupted him.

“Wang Qian, what’s going on? Why didn’t you turn off the original vocal? Turn it off now.”

Wang Qian frowned and fiddled with the equipment.

“That’s odd, I’m sure I turned off the original vocal… Okay, Yang Xiaofan, try singing again.”

Yang Xiaofan shook his head and began to sing once more. As soon as he opened his mouth, Wang Ze shouted again.

“Stop! Wang Qian, what are you doing? Didn’t I tell you to turn off the original vocal? Has your brain been eaten by a dog?”

Wang Qian protested, feeling wronged. “I did turn it off!”

“But…” Wang Ze was about to argue further when suddenly, he froze, staring fixedly at the big screen.

At that moment, all their classmates were just like him, eyes glued to the display, their jaws all but dropping to the floor.

Because the lyrics were still scrolling across the screen.

This meant Yang Xiaofan was singing live.

And his singing was indistinguishable from the original—no, it was identical!

Yang Xiaofan couldn’t help but find it amusing. He picked up the microphone and continued.

“That is a magical heavenly road…”

His powerful voice resonated deep into their souls, stirring them to their very bones.

This was more than just replicating the original—it was purer, more vivid.

The classmates, though amateurs, could say with certainty: Yang Xiaofan’s singing completely outshone the original performer.

In that instant, Wang Ze utterly fell apart.

How was anyone supposed to compete with this? Winning millions from the lottery was one thing, but to sing this well on top of it—he was being outclassed in every possible way.

Heaven itself seemed unfair, utterly humiliating him. He wanted to cry.

Qin Nuanyu’s beautiful eyes shimmered with emotion, locked onto Yang Xiaofan, her heartbeat quickening uncontrollably.

Ordinarily, she’d never witnessed any sign of Yang Xiaofan’s talents, regarding him as just another ordinary classmate. But tonight, after several astonishing events, Yang Xiaofan was firmly imprinted in her mind—impossible to ignore.

There was nothing she could do; Yang Xiaofan simply shone too brightly.

A boy like him was bound to attract any girl’s attention.

When Yang Xiaofan finished, his classmates erupted into wild applause, thunderous and relentless. Their palms were red and numb, yet they refused to stop.

The impact Yang Xiaofan brought them was beyond compare.

“One more song! Encore!” they shouted.

“Yes! Xiaofan, please, just one more! I love hearing you sing!”

Yang Xiaofan coughed lightly and waved his hand. “Let’s keep it low-key. You pick a song, but I’ll say this: just one more, then we’re done.”

“Deal!” they all chimed in unison, as excited as a group of schoolchildren stumbling upon a new world.

Yang Xiaofan began to sing again, and the entire room revolved around him, as if he were the brightest star in the sky and everyone else mere ornaments.

The more this went on, the more frustrated Wang Ze felt, forced to sulk with his drink. His heart was filled with bitterness he could not express.

Originally, he’d come here to show off his connections and his singing skills. Who could have guessed he’d end up setting the stage for someone else, letting Yang Xiaofan steal the spotlight once more?

It felt as if he’d painstakingly married a bride, done all the work, only to have someone else claim the wedding night. How maddening was that?

Wang Qian approached him, gently rubbed his back, and whispered comfortingly:

“Don’t be upset, Wang Ze. Why don’t we go to the restroom? I’ll help you blow off some steam.”

Wang Ze’s eyes lit up. He pinched her rosy cheek.

“Baby, you’re the best.”

“Silly, who else would treat you well if not me?”

“Heh, let’s go then.”

With that, Wang Ze slipped out with Wang Qian, quietly leaving the private room.

The other classmates were so absorbed in Yang Xiaofan’s singing that none noticed their departure.

…

Five minutes later, Wang Ze emerged from the restroom looking thoroughly satisfied. He strolled into the hallway, lit a cigarette, and exhaled with an air of nonchalance.

All the frustration from being upstaged by Yang Xiaofan had vanished.

A minute later, Wang Qian came out as well. Although her clothes were mostly in order, a few wrinkles still showed.

She walked over to the sink to touch up her makeup in the mirror.

Just then, a burly, bald man came out of the men’s restroom. His face was flushed from drink, eyes dazed and glassy. Spying Wang Qian bent over the mirror, he couldn’t help but leer, approaching her and giving her a squeeze.

“Ah!” Wang Qian leapt as if stung by a bee, clutching her behind and glaring furiously.

“What are you doing?”

The bald man grinned lecherously. “Hey there, sweetheart, keep me company for a while and I’ll give you two thousand.”

“Are you insane?”

Wang Qian cursed him furiously. The nerve, mistaking her for that kind of woman! It was outrageous.

The bald man frowned, persistent. “Two thousand five. For your kind, that’s the going rate—you’re not worth more.”

“You… go to hell!” Wang Qian kicked him hard in the shin.

The man hissed in pain, his already reddened eyes growing bloodshot and menacing.

“You bitch, you don’t know what’s good for you. Looking for trouble, are you?” he snarled, striking her across the face and knocking her to the ground, her cheek instantly swelling.

Out in the hallway, Wang Ze looked over just in time to see his girlfriend assaulted. He charged in a fury, kicking the man to the floor and unleashing a torrent of blows.

“You bastard! You dare lay a hand on my woman? Who do you think you are? Want to die?”

The bald man, drunk and caught off guard, couldn’t fight back and howled under the assault.

After several savage kicks, leaving the man battered and bruised, Wang Ze spat in his face with contempt.