Not good at singing?

At 2:50 in the afternoon, after being forced to change into something a bit more formal, he and Chu Qingchan took a taxi to the westernmost edge of Linshui City—Donggu District.

This area, like Zhuzi Alley, was one of the few remaining neighborhoods with single-story houses in the city. But this side was already slated for demolition after the New Year.

“This is the place.”

The two of them finally stopped in front of a small shop bearing a sign with “Guan’s Studio” on it. The shop was small.

Because it stood in the west of the city, it was not bustling or crowded; there were barely a few people on the whole street.

Chu Qingchan walked ahead, and Xu Lin followed. The entrance opened into a tiny reception area.

On both sides were two small sofas and a few potted plants; otherwise, there was only an air conditioner and a water dispenser. The décor was plain.

There were no decorations of any kind. Most people walking in would have no idea what this place was for.

At that moment, two young women in their twenties, both dressed formally, noticed Chu Qingchan entering and quickly stood up.

“Miss Chu Qingchan, the boss is upstairs.”

“All right. Mr. Xu, let’s go.”

“Mm.” Xu Lin nodded slightly to the two receptionists, who smiled and nodded back.

Once the two had gone upstairs, the receptionists sat back down, speaking in hushed tones.

“So that’s the young musician the boss was talking about? He’s so young.”

“Yes, and quite handsome too. Who would have thought Linshui hid such talented people?”

“Exactly. I only took this job for something simple, and now it turns out we’re working for the Demon Queen herself.”

“But don’t go around spreading rumors. The boss made it clear—if we talk carelessly, we’re out.”

“I know. We just sit here all day doing nothing, earning five thousand a month—it’s like money falling from the sky.”

“Right? Since that’s the case, let’s keep our spirits up. Smiling is our job.”

On the second floor, the corridor was narrow, with only two rooms—one labeled “Recording Studio,” the other “Office.”

“Don’t judge the place by its size. The recording studio is very professional. You’ll see for yourself in a moment.”

They stopped in front of the office door. Chu Qingchan knocked twice, then paused, waiting for a response.

A few seconds later, a clear voice sounded: “Come in.”

They entered. A middle-aged woman in a checkered suit stood up and walked toward them, extending her hand.

“So this is Xu Lin? Not only talented, but also quite the handsome young man.”

Xu Lin couldn’t quite believe his eyes and looked again before reaching out to shake her hand.

“Hello. You flatter me; I don’t know what to say. You hardly seem to have changed at all from years ago…”

He released her hand, still a bit incredulous. It wasn’t that she was especially beautiful—Guan the Demon Queen was not famous for her looks.

It was just that this Teacher Guan standing before him must be in her fifties, nearly sixty, yet she looked barely over thirty.

“A woman has her own ways to maintain herself. If you perform well, I can teach you a few tricks—so your girlfriend or your family can benefit too.”

“Thank you, Teacher. But I know my own abilities—I’m just playing around. I’ll follow your lead.”

Xu Lin was humble, and the woman nodded. Then she noticed the bag in Xu Lin’s hand, and her expression shifted slightly.

“Qingchan, I told you not to bring anything.”

“No, no, I’m just a student; I can’t bring anything you need. But when I used to sing, my throat often got sore.”

“Later, I bought these throat lozenges. After trying them twice, I thought they were good, and since you use your voice more than I do, I figured you’d need them. Just a small token—don’t mind it.”

“No, I like this gift very much.” She nodded and took the bag, pulling out a box.

“These—I remember buying them before. But… it’s been a long time since I sang. Still, with these, maybe I’ll practice again now and then.”

She toyed with the lozenges thoughtfully, then turned briskly around. “Ready to test your voice first?”

“Yes. May I sing my own song?”

“Of course.”

She opened a side door in her office, and Xu Lin followed her in, discovering that this was the control room, separated by a pane of glass from the recording booth.

“Many people aren’t used to their first time in a studio, but this time it’s just the three of us. There’s no need to be nervous.”

“All right, Teacher Guan.”

Xu Lin cleared his throat, entered the recording booth, and as the soundproof door closed, the spacious room fell into complete silence.

“The equipment’s all set—go ahead.”

“May I borrow a guitar?”

“Okay.”

The intercom buzzed. Xu Lin glanced at Chu Qingchan and gave her an “OK” sign.

He cleared his throat softly, and the space seemed to tremble. He used Lingxi breathing to quickly adjust his body and spirit to their best state, then stood before the microphone.

In the control room, Chu Qingchan and Guan Mingchen, both wearing headphones, listened intently as the sound of the guitar began.

It was slow and gentle. Then a clear, lively male voice joined in, tinged with a trace of sorrow, yet warm.

At once, Guan Mingchen lowered her hand from her chin and slowly closed her eyes, while Chu Qingchan stared at Xu Lin, entranced.

This performance was even better than the last—not just by a little, but as if he had leapt to a new level.

As the chorus arrived, the tempo quickened, but the guitar remained slow-paced. Yet the overall effect was perfectly harmonious.

With the lyrics, it was as if telling a story—a sorrowful, repressed tale that drew Chu Qingchan in completely.

Before she knew it, her eyes were moist. But in the next second, as the song returned to the main verse, the previously low voice soared upwards.

The guitar suddenly exploded with rapid, drum-like bursts, shattering the oppression and sorrow in an instant.

Chu Qingchan felt all her emotions ignited; her heart beat faster, her blood boiled—she could only think of one word: exhilarating!

A dozen seconds later, as the main verse’s catharsis ended, Xu Lin’s voice returned to its low, gentle timbre, though the lyrics had changed.

He shifted from one who confided sadness to one who expressed tenderness, and after the soaring high notes, the subtle hoarseness in his voice gave it a unique flavor.

Then, with the jubilant words “meeting you,” the song drew to a close. Only the guitar, moving with his breath, strummed softly until, as his breathing steadied, everything fell silent.

Chu Qingchan exhaled deeply, as if that breath drained all her strength. She unclenched her fists—when had she gripped them so tightly?—and found her palms slick with sweat.

Xu Lin slowly took off his headphones, put down the guitar, and looked toward the two women, eager for Teacher Guan’s assessment.

To be honest, he felt he had done his best. This song, “Crossing Mountains and Seas to Meet You,” was the second-place piece from a future singing competition he and Chu Qingchan would join.

Its quality needed no further words. Even if he had borrowed it, he trusted he hadn’t ruined it, though there were still many imperfect places.

Guan Mingchen opened her eyes, her demeanor turning serious. She beckoned him out, and he hurried from the recording booth.

“How do you think you did?”

“It was all right.”

“No… there were serious problems with your singing!”

Xu Lin and Chu Qingchan both froze. But seeing the serious expression on Guan’s face, Xu Lin immediately lowered his head.