Chapter 85: New Era Entertainment

Uncle A’s sudden improvisation left everyone present utterly astonished.

Even the dozens of media judges wore expressions of disbelief.

Zero Zero Demon clearly sensed something amiss, but she dared not lift her head. Though she was intimately familiar with the sheet music for “Turkish March,” playing it as a four-hands duet still required her full concentration.

Beside her, Liao Yuan seemed almost carefree. That was simply his nature: the moment he began to play, he would become utterly absorbed in the music, never tiring of it. His memory was truly formidable, especially when it came to musical notes—they were imprinted indelibly in his mind. After only a quick glance at the score, he had already mastered every rhythm of the four-hands arrangement. So, while Zero Zero Demon focused intently on sight-reading, Uncle A’s body began swaying exuberantly with the lively tempo, looking for all the world like a midnight DJ, surrounded by a barrage of thumping background beats.

Ah, if I were a DJ, would you love me? Would you love me? Would you... Bah!

Liao Yuan snapped back to himself, his hands continuing to dance nimbly over the keys, playing each note with infectious enthusiasm. Compared to Zero Zero Demon’s methodical approach, Uncle A’s performance had clearly reached a transcendent level in the eyes of the audience—emotion and rhythm were handled to perfection, setting him distinctly apart from the other contestants.

He was truly lost in the music!

It was a kind of awe that could be felt through sight alone.

Someone in the audience couldn’t help but scream ecstatically.

Their competitor, Li Moran, stared in shock at the scene before him. “It’s over. There’s no way I can keep up with this. Am I even supposed to go on stage later? No, no, why bother? I’d just embarrass myself!”

“Why not go? Just treat it as a game, relax a little! Don’t you realize we’re on live TV? We’re on national television!” Jelly Too Spicy exclaimed excitedly.

Li Moran shot back with a slap, fuming, “Go, go, all you think about is getting on TV. Don’t you have any ambition?”

Soon, “Turkish March” came to a close.

On the big screen, everyone was astonished to see that Zero Zero Demon, the renowned J-Station star, had a sheen of sweat on her forehead.

Liao Yuan noticed it too and asked in surprise, “Was it hard?”

“The piece isn’t hard, but playing it with you really is,” Zero Zero Demon managed a strained smile.

Liao Yuan was utterly baffled.

Next up was the second group of competitors, who also played “Turkish March.” Li Moran and Jelly Too Spicy, knowing they stood no chance, played with reckless abandon, not only performing wildly but even taking liberties with the composition.

They started with “Turkish March,” but soon their playing was filled with mistakes, and before long, the piece morphed into “Symphony of Fate,” complete with a sense of determined defiance, as if they truly wanted to seize fate by the throat.

Instantly, a flood of “666” comments raced across the live-stream chat.

After the performances, the votes were tallied: Uncle A and Zero Zero Demon’s group crushed the competition with 1,917 votes to 142, securing their advance to the next round.

As they said their goodbyes, Zero Zero Demon wiped sweat from her brow, glanced at Liao Yuan’s mask, and asked, “When are you planning to take that off?”

“I’ve made some enemies lately. If I don’t wear this, I’ll probably get beaten up,” Liao Yuan sighed.

The power of rabid fans was unmatched. Before the competition, he’d received a message from Xiao Peng, warning him not to come to the company and to lay low for a while, or he might find himself in trouble.

This was something Liao Yuan hadn’t anticipated before he ordered the custom mask.

“Enemies?” Zero Zero Demon blinked, curious. “Not even if you win the championship?”

Liao Yuan smiled. “Champion? Thinking too much about it is exhausting. I’ll decide when the time comes.”

“I actually think you have the makings of a champion,” Zero Zero Demon praised. “I’m not talking about your mask—I just mean you have the aura of a winner. When we played together, I could sense your dominance. When you’re at the piano, it feels like no one could ever defeat you.”

Liao Yuan tapped his mask and answered in a muffled voice, “Thank you for your kind words. I hope to see you in the finals.”

Zero Zero Demon covered her mouth with a laugh. “See you in the finals? Are we just giving each other empty compliments now?”

But her expression quickly turned visibly forlorn.

Last year, she had only made it to the top ten in her region, never even touching the edge of the national finals. Now, a year had passed. Though her skills seemed more refined, everyone had improved, and after seeing Uncle A’s performance, she no longer had the confidence to even make the top ten. All she hoped for was not to lose too badly.

In fact, she’d felt this way for over a month already. After releasing her new piece, “Goblin,” and dominating the trending charts for just two days, she was swiftly overtaken by several of Uncle A’s debut works and hadn’t recovered since. It made her doubt her own abilities.

Fortunately, there was only one Uncle A.

In truth, the idea of a pianist with performance-level skill becoming a J-Station content creator was something Zero Zero Demon and many other creators simply couldn’t comprehend. Were the country’s top pianists really this idle nowadays?

After advancing through the first round of the four-hands duet, Liao Yuan was notified to return a week later for the second round, which would be solo matches.

The next day, highlight videos from the three major domestic divisions of the Emperor and Four Monarchs competition were uploaded to all the major video sites. Uncle A and Zero Zero Demon from the southern division, Living Cannon and Lisianthus from the northern division, and Blossom and Mad Dog from the Hong Kong-Macau-Taiwan division all shone brilliantly on the first day, sparking heated discussion in the industry.

Moreover, several keywords such as “Masked Man,” “Emperor and Four Monarchs,” “Pianist,” and “Content Creator” shot up the trending charts on Weibo, drawing widespread attention.

“Here, this is the dossier on New Origin Entertainment. I looked into it—it’s just a small company, nothing like Lemon Entertainment, those big industry players. At most, it’s only a little better off than our own Small Yellow Fish Culture,” said Fu Xiaozi, handing a stack of documents to Liao Yuan. “Why would your sister choose a company like this? With her current popularity, New Origin Entertainment is making a fortune! They’re easily the luckiest agency out of all those participating in ‘Produce 101.’ Thanks to Liao Meiqi, the company’s value must have tripled by now.”

Liao Yuan flipped through the documents.

New Origin Entertainment was indeed a second-rate company, focusing mainly on artist training and commercial performances. After nearly three years, it had made some profit, but was still largely unremarkable.

He asked, “They don’t have many artists?”

“There’s one actor who’s won Best Supporting Actor, and most of their income comes from him. The rest are basically extras, mainly doing small commercial gigs,” Fu Xiaozi answered, munching an apple as she spoke. “So, just for a spot in the competition, Meiqi signed herself over to a company like this?”

Liao Yuan shook his head. “You don’t understand.”