Chapter 66: Chapter 66 - 66: Shocking the Arena!

Translator: _Min_ n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

The stage was shrouded in darkness, save for that single beam of light.

As the platform rose to the center, the young man’s face was fully revealed to the audience.

It was Xie Yu.

The light danced around him, yet it couldn’t rival the captivating allure of his visage.

What stunned everyone even more was the radiant costume he was wearing.

It seemed as if moonlight had fallen from the sky, gracefully descending upon him.

The entire arena was suddenly enveloped in silence, leaving only the soft music to fill the void.

Lu Yan stood frozen, his eyes lifting in disbelief.

His fingers trembled, his mind buzzed, and it felt as though his blood had ceased to flow.

What is happening?

Didn’t Xie Yu lost his costume?

How could he be here?

Lu Yan felt like a fool standing next to Xie Yu, his face flushed in utter embarrassment.

Backstage, the producer who had been watching the monitor slammed his hand on the table and stood up furiously. “What’s going on? What is the control room doing?

What is this lighting?

And why was the risingplatform used?

Although the center position was the most critical, this was still a group dance. Now, the whole stage seemed set up solely for Xie Yu, casting all other trainees in the shadows.

This was utterly unacceptable!

“I… I don’t know,” the staff stuttered, equally stunned. “The control room said they also don’t Imow what’s happening. Both the platform and lights were activated.”

The producer’s face turned ashen. “Well, turn it off! This is not a one-man show!”

“We can’t!” The director snapped back to reality. “The performance is about to start.”

The producer sighed and sat back down, realizing there was no other option.

In the audience.

Si Fuqing typed the last character into the program and took a sip of her coke.

“Such a subpar system; they really needed my reinforcement.”

The show was making a fortune, yet they couldn’t invest in a decent lighting system?

After a full thirty seconds of silence, the open-air auditorium erupted with deafening screams.

The live comments section exploded as well.

[Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Xie Yu! Xie Yu! Mom loves you!]

[He’s standing up today, and I’m losing it!]

[He’s too handsome, too awesome. He could’ve relied on his looks, but he chose to rely on his talent. What kind of god have we become fans of!]

[Xie Yu, tone it down. Stop adding more rivals for me!]

[What’s the deal with Lu Yan? Trying to steal Xie Yu’s center position?] [Lu Yan, you’re so shameless! Do you even deserve to stand in the center?]

[So the production team is suppressing Xie Yu again? Fine, we’ll wait. Let Xie Yu finish his performance, and we’ll talk [smile]. ]

With his aura fully unleashed, Xie Yu was an irresistible force, leaving those around him utterly overwhelmed.

The prelude ended, and a commanding voice took over.

“In this world, all dreams shine for me.”

“You say the road ahead is long; I just need to hold brilliance in my hand—”

His voice was ethereal yet lazy, his dance moves electrifying. Several trainees, caught off guard, stood frozen on the stage.

Lu Yan included.

But after a few seconds, Lu Yan, being the prized talent of Tianle Media, quickly regained his composure and began dancing.

As all the performers started, the stage slowly heated up, and the solo became a chorus.

However, Xie Yu’s voice was so outstanding that even amidst a chorus, it was impossible to ignore him.

His dance moves were even more explosive than his singing, setting the stage alight.

“Dong!”

“Dong! Dong!”

The drum beats resounded, and the whole arena boiled over.

[Wow, did Xie Yu go to Glenn for training? He’s giving off some Yun Lan vibes.]

[Yes, yes, yes, he really does! I’m a loyal fan of Yun Lan; she has a unique aura when she dances, and Xie Yu actually resembles her a bit.]

[Stop it. Praise Xie Yu if you want, no one’s stopping you. What’s the point of bringing up Yun Lan? Even if he landed on the moon, he wouldn’t match her.]

Yun Lan had an unmatched status in the international performing arts scene. Even after disappearing for over four years, she still had a massive fan following.

Her achievements were indeed unparalleled.

“Dong!”

Another drum beat signaled the climax, the lights suddenly went out, yet Xie

Yu remained undiminished. His costume seemed to have its own luminescence, like moonlight descending upon the mountains, accompanied by the flowing of a soft stream.

The audience gasped in awe again.

“This must be Moon Embroidery,” Mu Qingmeng observed, amazed. “I didn’t notice before, but this is an extraordinary level of craftsmanship. It’s rare even in the city of Sijiu.”

Only Moon Embroidery would have its own light.

Moon Embroidery was a famous traditional craft in the Great Xia Empire, named for its moon-like glow in the dark.

“Huh?” Xu Xiyun was taken aback. “Even the city of Sijiu doesn’t have it?”

Sijiu was the economic hub and capital of the Great Xia Empire, a place many yearned to enter.

Many celebrities were also proud if they were able to enter that circle.

“Yes, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen it,” Mu Qingmeng sighed softly, her eyes fixed on the stage. “It’s not that you can’t buy it; it’s priceless. The artisans who know this craft have nearly disappeared.”

“With advancing technology, many traditional crafts are being replaced by machines. Coupled with the impact of foreign luxury brands, the art of Moon Embroidery has gradually faded. Such a pity.”

Xu Xiyun’s mouth hung open, “Then, Teacher Si, you’re incredible to have procured Moon Embroidery!”

“I’m a simple person, I don’t understand embroidery,” Si Fuqing shrugged, blinking. “I asked a friend for it, never thought it would be this precious.”

“But hearing Aunt Mu say this, it seems that Moon Embroidery is something those foreign luxury brands can’t even compare to.”

“Yes,” Mu Qingmeng nodded, “This is the wisdom of our ancestors. During the Great Xia Dynasty, a single piece of Moon Embroidery would cost a hundred thousand taels of silver, affordable only to the imperial family and nobility.”

Si Fuqing tilted her head and gazed at the clear sky outside the window, smiling lightly, “I’m not sure about others, but Emperor Yin would never wear it.”

Upon hearing this, a few trainees looked up in surprise, evidently confused by the leap in Si Fuqing’s conversation.

“He’s used to living simply,” Si Fuqing continued calmly, “If he had that kind of money, he would use it for philanthropy; he would never spend it on himself.”

Mu Qingmeng nodded, “The integrity of Emperor Yin is unmatched throughout history. It’s rare to meet someone like Miss Si who is well-versed in history.”

“History books are not entirely accurate,” Si Fuqing said, resting her head on her hand, “If possible, I’d really like to visit that era.”

“It looks like Miss Si and I have found another common topic to explore,” Mu Qingmeng seemed pleased, “However, Emperor Yin was not a soft-hearted ruler, and I actually admire him for that.”

“Yes,” Si Fuqing whispered, “He had his ruthlessness.”

History records that after Emperor Yin ascended the throne, he executed 4,284 corrupt officials within a year.

From then on, the court was at peace, and nobody dared to make a move.

He was a wise ruler, but he also left a legacy of brutality, much criticized by later generations.

But could an emperor afford to be soft-hearted?

Mu Qingmeng sighed, “It’s a shame that Emperor Yin’s tomb has not been discovered to this day. I wonder when it will be found.”

“I actually hope it’s never found,” Si Fuqing tilted her head and smiled again, “He never had a peaceful life; at least let him rest in peace now.”

“That’s true,” Mu Qingmeng sighed, “He suffered enough in his lifetime; it’s best not to disturb him.”

While the entire audience was lost in Xie Yu’s performance, the faces of the producer and director were far from pleased.

“Wasn’t his costume lost?” the producer asked coldly, “Where did this one come from?”

Indeed, the show had substantial funds, but they certainly didn’t have such an exquisite costume.

He couldn’t even identify the material of Xie Yu’s attire.

The director wiped his sweat, “I’m not sure; we’ll have to ask later.”

“Fine,” the producer lit a cigarette, “The stage effects are pretty good as they are; we have several more episodes to go, no rush.” Just as he was about to relax, a frantic voice interrupted him.

“Producer, we have a problem!”

It was a technician who rushed in, his face flushed with panic, “A big problem!”

“What’s with the panic?” the producer, already in a bad mood, grew even angrier, “How many times have I told you to keep your composure?”

“I—I can’t, Producer!” The technician finally caught his breath and blurted out,

“Look at the voting data on the front-end! What do we do?!”

“What happened to the voting data?” The producer frowned, “Show it to me now! “