Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
The MC on stage was eloquent as ever, creating a tense atmosphere of anticipation, while the presenter made a show of wiping the perspiration from his forehead before reading loudly and clearly, “And the award for Best Song goes to—”
Suddenly, there was silence as the spotlight started circling the nominees.
The 40-something presenter declared energetically, “The award for Best Song goes to—Wen Shihao!”
This was followed by thunderous applause while the spotlight shone on a woman seated in the middle of the third row. The woman stood gracefully, exuding poise and smiling beautifully. This was the first time that the new darling of songwriting, Wen Shihao, had been introduced to the media at such an awards ceremony.
Su Qing turned to look at Jiang Jiusheng and couldn’t help but think that all this had been planned to the nth degree. This newbie had kept a low-profile, never making any appearances, while her debut song was turned into a mega-hit by one of the top singers of all time. The hype had risen to a new high when she was nominated for a major award. And now, she presented herself at the ceremony as the epitome of grace and beauty. For someone so obviously well-connected, it would indeed be surprising if there was no hidden agenda behind her meteoric rise to fame and glory.
“Mo Bing played this for me. It’s very good,” Jiang Jiusheng stated as a matter of fact. Looking at the woman onstage, smiling as she held the award up high, Jiang Jiusheng concluded, “I have a feeling that she will be another dark horse in the music industry.”
Achieving the top award with just one song… Of course, with talent and the right resources, it was just a matter of time.
“In with the new, out with the old,” Su Qing declared, looking at Jiang Jiusheng with her chin resting on her hand, trying to read her reaction. Alas, Jiang Jiusheng remained characteristically unaffected. Curious, Su Qing asked, “Do you not feel intimidated?”
Giving it some thought, Jiang Jiusheng replied in all honesty, “Maybe it’s because I have won this award too many times.”
Su Qing was speechless.
Come to think of it, Jiang Jiusheng had indeed bagged the Best Songwriter award for three years running, and it would have been meaningless to continue giving her the same award. The award assessment panel probably had the same opinion and had taken the opportunity to make a change.
However, the award for Best Female Singer was, as expected, given to—rock star Jiang Jiusheng.
The event hall was filled with screams of jubilation for this well-deserved win. Hailed by industry experts as a collectible for the unrivaled quality of its songs, production, and delivery, her album Sheng Now & Forever had managed to break a ten-year sales record in an industry that was facing downward trends in the market.
Once her name was announced, the event hall reverberated with thunderous applause, and the spotlight shone on Jiang Jiusheng, highlighting her expressive eyes.
Smiling slightly, she walked onstage confidently, her purple silk Qipao-style dress moving fluidly as she moved, accentuating her tiny waist. She exuded feminine grace, mystery, and stoicism.
“Congratulations.”
Receiving the award from the presenter, Jiang Jiusheng murmured, “Thank you.”
Holding the award, she walked over to where the mic was, bent her head to kiss the award, and held it up high over her head to deafening applause from the audience.
Even at maximum mic volume, Jiang Jiusheng’s voice sounded low and raspy, as though she had just been roused from a deep sleep. It was her signature vocal tone.
“I guess my fans are, at this moment, most concerned about my arm,” she said.
Once she started to speak, total silence ensued.
Lifting the arm that had was in a cast, Jiang Jiusheng adjusted the height of the mic and said, “Don’t worry. It’s a minor injury. I can still hold the guitar.”
The hall erupted as the fans shouted, screamed, and chanted.
“Jiang Jiusheng!”
“Jiang Jiusheng!”
“Jiang Jiusheng!”
It was a coordinated chant of her name—no more, no less. Jiang Jiusheng’s adoring fans followed her every step and had even adopted her preference for keeping things simple and low-key.
Finally, she shared her thoughts on having received the award. As usual, she kept it simple and to the point.
“Many thanks to the organizing committee. Many thanks to my fans.” She gave a little bow of respect before closing simply with, “This is Jiang Jiusheng.”
As always, she was cool and collected—charmingly arrogant.
As if on cue, someone shouted, “Sheng Ye, I want to have your babies!”
The MC was speechless. How do I proceed from here?
“If I could,” Jiang Jiusheng replied unhurriedly, casting her beautiful eyes in the direction of the declaration. “And if my future husband does not mind.”
Those striking eyes emanated a hypnotic power that tugged at the very core of one’s soul.
Quickly recovering from his shock, the male MC latched on to the topic at hand. “So tell us, Sheng, what is your ideal type?”
After some thought, Jiang Jiusheng announced candidly, “Someone with beautiful hands.”
The MC took a look at his own hands and was at a loss as to how to continue with the banter. Then again, there was really no need to rev up the atmosphere since the entire event hall had erupted at Jiang Jiusheng’s response.
Listening intently in the VIP section, someone commented privately, “So how many times has Jiang Jiusheng been given this Best Female Singer award?”
“This is the third.”
“Looks like the Chinese music industry is being taken over by light rock.”
There was a hint of jealousy as the two or three female singers conversed in a low tone, wary of showing too much displeasure publicly. However, a man who was sitting nearby suddenly laughed aloud.
“The audience’s tastes seem to have gone downhill.”
He had just completed his statement when he felt a vicious kick against the back of his seat. Annoyed, he whirled around in his seat and, seeing who the culprit was, immediately became contrite.
“Master Feng,” the man greeted, his tone no longer arrogant. Zheng Yi, an artist managed by Qin Entertainment, had debuted five years ago with lukewarm results.
Lifting his eyebrows, Yuwen Chongfeng demanded in a controlled tone, “How dare you ridicule TianYu?”
Zheng Yi said nothing.
TianYu’s Master Feng was famous for protecting his own, especially Jiang Jiusheng, whom he doted on. To him, she was as precious as his own flesh and blood.
Zheng Yi turned in his seat silently.
Alas, it was not over yet. Up front, Xie Dang descended from the VIP section and, sitting in an empty seat in the next row, turned to glare at Zheng Yi.
“Can you play the guitar?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Zheng Yi shook his head.
“Or can you play the cello?”
His face turning darker, he shook his head again.
Sitting sideways, Xie Dang rested his arm on the back of the seat and continued, “What about songwriting?”
The red-faced Zheng Yi was speechless.
Xie Dang smiled smugly. “Jiang Jiusheng can do all that.” He leaned forward a little from the back of the seat and murmured without looking directly at him, “She may not be as low-class as you. You are definitely trashier than her.”
Sweating profusely, Zheng Yi remained silent. Nobody could afford to offend the young scion of the Xie family.
Suddenly, the camera turned in his direction, and the smartly dressed Xie Dang smiled devilishly into it, speaking in a low voice with his lips barely moving.
“Keep talking about her like that,” he said, “and I will use the violin bow to turn your face into the alpacas in South America—a grass mud horse. Then I will complain to Elder Xie, from my family, who, as you know, has legions of mentees and followers who would beat you to a pulp!”
Zheng Yi remained silent.
“It’s now my turn to present an award,” Xie Dang claimed as he stood slowly and waved at the camera.
A female singer seated nearby complimented him. “Nice hands, Mr. Xie.”
Smiling pleasantly, Xie Dang replied, “But of course.”
Want to know how to get into young Master Xie’s good book? Just keep complimenting his hands! Get it?
Tossing his head of natural curls, Xie Dang walked onto the stage to make his presentation.
The awards ceremony had been planned to conclude within an hour and a half, and, under the expert guidance of the MC, the ceremony closed promptly at 9:30 with only a few minor hiccups. One such hiccup was involved singer Xu Qingjiu.
Xu Qingjiu had left suddenly around the middle of the ceremony, and the award for Most Popular Male Singer had needed to be accepted by his manager. The official excuse was a sudden illness.
“Sudden illness?” Su Qing chuckled. “He’s just acting up.”
Those two were like oil and water.
Jiang Jiusheng waited until most of the guests had left the event hall before rising from her seat, asking, “I have been wanting to ask, what’s with those pants?”
Shoving her hands in the pants pockets, Su Qing replied, “I found them in the men’s bathroom.”
“They look familiar,” Jiang Jiusheng said, eyeing the pants.
“My thoughts exactly,” Su Qing agreed, clicking her tongue and pulling up the loose-fitting pants with satisfaction. “Not bad. Quite tasteful.”
As they pushed the door to leave the event hall, they heard a thunderous noise.
“Su Qing!”