Chapter 101: The Brightest Star

That evening, Shen Yumeng came to the Duck Café with a single purpose: to see just how impressive this so-called “Teacher Huang”—who was about to rehearse at the café—really was, for it was said he excelled in both singing and songwriting, leaving her boyfriend far behind. She brought Nan Fang along, not to cause trouble, but because she simply couldn’t swallow her indignation and wanted Nan Fang to show his talent, hoping the proud Zhao Jing would finally see who truly outshone whom.

Shen Yumeng hadn’t told Nan Fang the exact words Zhao Jing used, claiming that Huang Guolun was leagues ahead of him, lest Nan Fang take offense. But she had informed him that Zhao Jing had recently befriended a so-called genius high school music teacher, and that her sister’s café was about to host an online live music show for this man.

Nan Fang found the whole thing laughable: an unknown high school music teacher holding his own music showcase? Such fearless ignorance! Before coming to the Duck Café, Nan Fang had no idea Huang Guolun had composed the score for “Born to Be a Beauty.” Once there, though, he saw posters and T-shirts promoting the film everywhere, with the owner, Zhao Yan, sporting a bright orange shirt to advertise the movie.

In conversation, Nan Fang learned that the legendary music teacher had written the theme song for this online film. Composing a theme song for an internet movie was hardly an impressive feat. Yet hearing Zhao Yan, Zhao Jing, and the others heap unanimous praise upon Huang Guolun, calling him a musical genius, Nan Fang could barely stand to listen. Literary people often look down on one another, and the arts scene was no exception. In Nan Fang’s view, this Mr. Huang was nothing more than a high school teacher who’d written a theme for a B-list online film—hardly a genius! If that was all it took, then what did that make him—a performer with original albums and credits on prime-time TV dramas—a super-genius?

The more they praised Huang Guolun, the more Nan Fang thought these outsiders were like frogs at the bottom of a well, desperate to show them what true professional musical talent looked like. Shen Yumeng felt much the same; she couldn’t listen to Zhao Jing and the others endlessly touting Huang’s talents. So, while waiting for the illustrious Teacher Huang to arrive, she suggested Nan Fang take the temporary stage and sing a few songs to liven up the café.

Zhao Yan and Zhao Jing were only too happy to oblige. With everyone encouraging him, Nan Fang stepped onto the small stage, set against a piano, and accompanied himself on guitar with a rendition of Zhao Lei’s popular folk song, “Chengdu.” Being from Chengdu himself, Nan Fang infused the song with a special feeling for his hometown, immediately warming the atmosphere in the café.

The group of university students—Wang Peng, Jiang Lili, and their friends—were all captivated by Nan Fang’s magnetic voice. Zhao Yan, Sister Xu, and the others, hearing Nan Fang sing live for the first time, were equally impressed; a recording artist’s live performance was truly a pleasure to hear.

Nan Fang’s greatest strength as a singer was the allure of his breathy vocals—a gift, but also a product of years of professional training. When he sang, the airflow through his throat created a unique friction with his vocal cords, giving his voice a pronounced resonance. This friction wasn’t hoarse, but rather a delicate, whispery rasp that, amplified by the microphone, gave his singing a distinctive magnetism, almost as if it came with its own mixing effects.

This wasn’t a trick unique to Nan Fang; many male singers could sing with breathy tones. The difference lay in whether it was innate or acquired—those born with it sounded especially good, while those who forced it through practice could seem contrived.

Nan Fang’s breathy tone was half natural, half cultivated—much like Duoliang, who shot to fame on “The Voice.” He had a certain gift, but his voice lacked strong distinction, which was the fundamental reason he’d never truly made it big. Still, compared to most, Nan Fang’s vocal skill was extraordinary. In a modest venue like the Duck Café, he was the kind of singer whose voice could command everyone’s attention from the moment he opened his mouth.

After “Chengdu,” the university students cheered him on, and Nan Fang felt the thrill of victory, his spirits soaring. Outwardly, though, he kept his cool, stylish air, and said offhandedly, “The next song is for you, Mengmeng. You will always be the ‘Brightest Star in the Night Sky’ to me.” Strumming the intro to “The Brightest Star in the Night Sky,” Nan Fang prepared to cover his signature piece.

Seeing everyone so eager for more, Shen Yumeng was brimming with pride, as if she herself were the brightest star being serenaded by Nan Fang in the café tonight, utterly enthralled.

Nan Fang’s voice, opening again, touched the hearts of many girls—

... “Brightest star in the night sky, can you hear clearly,”
“The loneliness and sighs in the heart of the one who looks up at you,”
“Brightest star in the night sky, can you recall,”
“The figure that once walked with me, now vanished in the wind,” …

His magnetic breathy vocals shone even brighter in this song. Compared to the original singer, Mao Chuan, Nan Fang’s version perhaps lacked some of the lonely individuality, replacing it with a touch more sentimental intensity, especially when he gazed at Shen Yumeng and sang, his performance even more pronounced.

Yet his singing was deeply moving; Jiang Lili, easily moved, felt like throwing herself into her boyfriend Wang Peng’s arms. Every time she heard someone with such a fine voice, she couldn’t help dreaming—if only Wang Peng could sing like that, her passion for music would make her blissful beyond measure.

As for Shen Yumeng, she was utterly defenseless against Nan Fang’s rendition of “The Brightest Star in the Night Sky”:

… “I pray for a heart that’s pure and eyes that can weep,”
“Give me the courage to believe again, to cross the lies and embrace you,”
“Whenever I can’t find the meaning of existence, whenever I’m lost in the dark,”
“Brightest star in the night sky, please guide me to you,” …

Every time Nan Fang reached the soaring chorus, Shen Yumeng felt an electric thrill from his gaze and voice, wanting nothing more than to rush onstage and embrace him, just to release the passion welling up inside her.

During the instrumental break, Shen Yumeng couldn’t help but boast to Zhao Jing, “Every time I hear Nan Fang sing this song, I feel like I’m melting.”

Zhao Jing teased, “What are you, a popsicle? Melting away?”

Shen Yumeng grinned smugly, “Even if I were an iceberg, Nan Fang’s singing would melt me.”

At their table, Zhao Yan sighed, “A professional singer is a professional singer—Nan Fang’s voice is truly wonderful.”

Shen Yumeng laughed and asked Zhao Yan, “How does he compare to that Teacher Huang you’ve been talking about?”

“Well…” Zhao Yan hesitated, “It’s hard to compare.”

Zhao Jing blurted out, “What’s so hard about it? Nan Fang and Teacher Huang—at best, it’s half a kilo… to three kilos.”

“Good thing you didn’t say half a kilo to half a kilo,” Shen Yumeng muttered under her breath.

Zhao Jing grinned, “The half kilo is your Nan Fang. The three kilos is Teacher Huang.”

Shen Yumeng couldn’t help but laugh, “You really know how to boast!”

Zhao Jing replied, “I’m not exaggerating. Just wait till Teacher Huang arrives—you’ll see what a real gap looks like.”

Shen Yumeng retorted, “Gap? If our Nan Fang is only half a kilo, then only a god like Jacky Cheung in the Chinese music scene could be called three kilos!”

Zhao Jing, half-joking, said, “Well, Teacher Huang and Jacky Cheung each have their strengths. Maybe he’s not quite as divine a singer as Jacky, but when you add songwriting into the mix, I don’t think he’s outclassed.”

Shen Yumeng was stunned—she’d never heard anyone boast like that! To compare an ordinary high school music teacher to the legendary Jacky Cheung—this was pure nonsense!

Even Zhao Yan felt embarrassed; though Huang Guolun’s musical talent was genuinely outstanding, his singing and songwriting near perfect, comparing him to Jacky Cheung was just asking for trouble and putting a target on his back. When would this girl ever learn to speak with a little more caution?

“Sigh…”

Zhao Yan sighed quietly and excused herself to the kitchen, not wishing to embarrass herself further by discussing Huang Guolun with Shen Yumeng.

Zhao Jing, however, was relentless. “Just wait until you hear Teacher Huang sing, especially his own compositions. Then you’ll know I wasn’t kidding. Mengmeng, your Nan Fang is a great singer—I admit that. Before I met Teacher Huang, Nan Fang was the undisputed little singing god in our circle. If he wasn’t the best, no one else dared claim they were. But once I met Teacher Huang, I realized there’s always a higher mountain out there—true masters hide among the people.”

From Zhao Jing’s tone, it was clear she held Huang Guolun’s musical talents in the highest esteem. She was the type to either love or dislike, rarely wavering in between. She was genuinely conquered by Huang Guolun’s music, and so her admiration was sincere.

Yet the more Shen Yumeng listened, the more she thought Zhao Jing had lost her mind. Watching Nan Fang continue serenading her, she teased Zhao Jing, asking, “Do you have a crush on Teacher Huang? Is that why you see him as so perfect?”

Zhao Jing replied with characteristic candor, “I do like him, but only his music. Anyone who loves music, after hearing Teacher Huang sing, should be a fan.”

Just as Zhao Jing finished, and Nan Fang’s singing reached its peak—

The bell above the café door jingled.

Zhao Jing, ever alert, turned instantly toward the entrance. Her eyes lit up, and a radiant, fairy-like smile blossomed across her face.

With pride and excitement, Zhao Jing announced to Shen Yumeng, “The brightest star of the night has finally arrived!”