Chapter 30: Manifesto

Gu Cheng only had six songs in total, and he used up two of them, "It Couldn't Be Help" and "Exaggerated," shortly after the opening.

Consequently, he had to step down to rest, leaving the stage to Jay Chou and Jolin Tsai, waiting until the midpoint and the finale to come back up.

The flashlights of tens of thousands of digital cameras flickered from the beginning to the end, coming in waves one after another.

Since tonight's concert featured a rotation of numerous singers, a host was arranged to make announcements and provide smooth transitions.

Among Gu Cheng's subordinates, "vase-type" talents were relatively scarce at the moment, so this hosting duty naturally fell to Lin Chiling without a second thought. She also made guest appearances as a backup dancer for Gu Cheng and Jay Chou on several occasions.

Lin Chiling was not yet a breakout star in the industry at this time, but her portrayal of the intellectual and poised "Senior Sister Jing" in *Meteor Garden* gave her a bit more popularity than she had historically. Especially watching "Hua Ze Lei" holding hands with "Senior Sister Jing" for a lyrical song and dance performance of "It Couldn't Be Help," which was quite capable of driving drama-fan enthusiasts into a frenzy.

Because she was relatively free most of the time, Lin Chiling could adopt a relaxed, bystander perspective to survey the entire scene from the stage.

She could clearly feel that every time Gu Cheng took the stage, the density of the flashlights would suddenly surge by several tens of percent, rolling like successive waves.

The other two mainstays also performed with absolute sincerity. From Jay Chou's "Love Before BC," "Unutterable Sorrow," "William's Castle," and "Nunchucks," to Jolin Tsai's "Say You Love Me," "Look at Me 72 Changes," and "Confession of a Mask," the enthusiastic applause won by these golden boy and jade girl's most popular hit songs was not a whit inferior to Gu Cheng's.

Jay Chou, who possessed independent songwriting abilities, even pulled out a freshly baked track titled "Dragon Fist," which he prepared for his new album releasing next month. It thoroughly ignited the enthusiasm of the young men in the audience.

Amateurs watch the spectacle, while professionals watch the technique.

Ordinary audience members were hearing "Dragon Fist" for the first time, and naturally had no idea what the album's original version sounded like. However, Lin Chiling, who was embellishing the performance as a backup dancer on the side, heard the slightly breathy, shaky execution in the second half of "Dragon Fist" and saw the reality of the situation crystal clear.

"Chou is probably going to be in trouble... His breath control can't keep up with this kind of intense dancing combined with singing. Besides, Cheng is using full mics for this concert without a single ounce of lip-syncing; we need to let Chou take a rest."

Jay Chou's vocal timbre was not at the level of a heavenly king; his success relied primarily on his extraordinary compositional talent. Yet, his concerts were consistently sincere, and he never lip-synced.

However, having debuted less than two years ago, his concert experience was not yet rich enough. Coupled with the fact that his debut album *JAY* did not feature songs requiring high-energy dancing like "Nunchucks," "Ninja," or "Dragon Fist," Jay Chou was genuinely a bit unaccustomed to handling this musical style live.

During rehearsals, he could practice it perfectly, but once on stage, getting caught up in the excitement and losing track of energy distribution would quickly lead to cracking notes and exhaustion.

Everyone had their own strengths. While possessing peerless compositional genius, Jay Chou's dancing skills were truly a shortcoming; the moment he started dancing, his breath became unstable. This could also be seen from his performance years later when he genuinely sang "Lanting Pavilion Preface" live with Lin Chiling on the CCTV Spring Festival Gala.

Lin Chiling cleverly found an excuse to end her backup dancing early, gracefully withdrawing from the side and immediately explaining the situation to Gu Cheng backstage: "The next song cannot be given to Chou as originally planned. Let's switch to another upbeat dance track instead."

Gu Cheng's expression tightened: "Is it that serious? I couldn't tell from down below. Can we have Sister Tsai follow up with '72 Changes'?"

Lin Chiling replied, "Xiao Cai already had to save the show after 'Nunchucks' just now. You can't just back-to-back songs with that kind of intense choreography."

Gu Cheng suggested, "Then how about switching to something more mellow? I'll go up and perform 'Man's Ocean'."

Lin Chiling countered, "The piano prop hasn't even been moved to the lift yet! There's no time. Just pick one from the songs the band has already practiced on stage to fill in."

After all, there were less than 20 seconds left before "Dragon Fist" concluded, and stage technology in 2002 was not yet advanced enough. Moreover, a slow, soothing song like "Man's Ocean" required Gu Cheng to sit at the piano and play while singing, which meant the entire accompanying band on stage would have to be swapped out.

Making a random, haphazard substitution at the last minute would result in terrible stage presence.

Gu Cheng pondered for a couple of seconds and made a decisive judgment: "Bring on 'Valenti' to save the show! Get the piano ready in backstage setup, follow it with 'inter-Love', and then transition into my 'Man's Ocean'!"

Among Asian divas, BoA was the only one whose dancing skills rivaled Jolin Tsai's. Originally, Gu Cheng had planned to let BoA perform after the atmosphere of the second half had heated up, so that the audience wouldn't find the Japanese and foreign-language songs too cold and unresponsive. Now, to save the situation, there was no other choice.

"Don't be nervous. Although Chinese fans haven't heard 'Valenti' yet, the next song will make up for it!"

With a final word of comfort, Gu Cheng sent BoA up onto the stage in the dark.

Meanwhile, Jay Chou had already received instructions through his in-ear monitor to step down and rest due to the sudden change of plans, feeling secretly fortunate.

Singing and dancing live on stage was, after all, entirely different from singing calmly inside a recording studio.
...

"...The next song is Boa's 'Valenti'!" Lin Chiling hurriedly racked her brain for words, biting the bullet to make a clumsy introductory transition before hastily retreating off stage.

The roar of the crowd throughout the venue instantly dropped by at least two levels compared to when Jay Chou was performing. However, those several thousand "international friends" shouted even more fiercely than before, barely managing to salvage some presence.

Unfortunately, as soon as the singing began, the audience realized it was in Japanese, and many local fans who had originally intended to cheer quieted down even more.

"Valenti" was undoubtedly an energetic, uplifting song, but the barrier of an unfamiliar language was devastatingly powerful.

BoA felt slightly nervous. Despite having experienced over a dozen concerts, she was, after all, only a 15-year-old girl.

Forcing herself to take a few deep breaths between the lyrics to steady her breathing, BoA gritted her teeth and plunged into the self-forgetful, high-energy choreography. The few backup dancers by her side, brought all the way from East Yan, were extremely professional; their seamless cooperation soon allowed her to forget her nervousness.

BoA's "Valenti" team was exceptionally strong. Her primary lead backup dancer, Park Kahi, became famous precisely from dancing for this song, and three years later would move to the United States to debut officially as part of a girl group.

The slender, graceful dancing elf on the big screen, with her flowing hair seemingly possessing a soul and tendons—performing hair-flipping movements that defied the laws of physics as if belonging to a two-dimensional world—quickly conquered numerous fans with a silent language.

Despite the language barrier, the rhythm of the song was truly addictive! Especially when combined with the choreography!

This was an era when fan dances like Lee Jung-hyun's "Wa" or "Change" could intoxicate tens of millions of fans in China. The underdevelopment of the internet and the scarcity of external information meant that most fans lacked a systematic understanding of Yan-style energetic dance, often stopping at the superficial stage of "twisting and provocative dancing."

When they witnessed the highest level of serious RAP choreography, the initial resistance and growing pains faded away, leaving behind genuine cultural exchange.

"I didn't expect Xiao Cai's breath control to be so enduring; it's truly remarkable. Dancing like that and using a full mic without a single vocal tremor." Lin Chiling watched nervously backstage for a moment, and only after confirming there were no issues did she comfortably converse with Gu Cheng. Especially after experiencing several top contemporary singers up close in succession, Lin Chiling had grown much more familiar with each person's unique traits.

Gu Cheng had also been worried at first, but seeing the shift in the audience's atmosphere, he felt deeply moved.

The original creator may be Han yet act like a Han, while copycat pigs may be Han yet act like Han.

"Mencius said, 'I have heard of men using the doctrines of our great land to change barbarians, but I have not heard of any being changed by barbarians.' To learn the superior skills of the barbarians in order to control them can be called using the ways of the great land to transform the barbarians. To learn the dregs of the barbarians is to transform oneself into a barbarian." He couldn't help but quote some classics to Lin Chiling before preparing to take the stage.

Flurries of "sleet" were scattered through the air, and the stage lighting grew chillingly cold.

A piano slowly rose onto the stage, and sitting right in front of it was Gu Cheng.

"inter-Love" was a song he had written for BoA. Since he had grown somewhat familiar with playing keyboard instruments anyway, stepping in for an unplanned guest performance was something he could barely manage.

The entire reason he was going on stage ahead of schedule was out of consideration for promoting the newcomer, fearing that fans unfamiliar with BoA wouldn't buy into her performance.

Sure enough, the moment Gu Cheng appeared, the atmosphere immediately soared back to its peak.

"The winter fairy, shining and fluttering down. Out of idleness, I kissed the smiling face in the photo. The movie we promised to see, yet the ticket window has a long queue. The crowd surges, and you and I can no longer hold hands and move forward. Yet my heart remains with you, even though we cannot meet. My kiss transforms into millions of snowflakes, constantly staying by your side..."

That poignant, winding, ethereal sound of nature instantly struck the hearts of at least fifty thousand female fans present.

"Ah? Is this the Chinese version of *Winter Sonata*? This song actually has a Chinese version?"

"*Autumn in My Heart*! It's *Autumn in My Heart*!"

"You guys actually didn't know? The theme song of *Autumn in My Heart* was written by Brother Cheng and sung by BoA. You laymen, sigh, don't stand next to me, it's embarrassing~" Some private stalker fans immediately seized the opportunity to distance themselves from Gu Cheng's casual fans.

Upon learning this news, countless girls were instantly filled with immense adoration: they had thought the production of Yan dramas was something distant, yet it turned out the hottest Yan drama in history still had to request songs from Brother Cheng—how magnificent my Brother Cheng was! Furthermore, he could even make high-and-mighty Yan drama female singers specifically record lyrics in Mandarin; it was such a morale booster!

No, they must buy this disc when they got home; their information was simply too outdated!

In the hearts of countless girls, such was the agonizing regret at this very moment.

Perhaps when they first arrived, they were primarily rabid fans of Gu Cheng and Jay Chou, but that didn't mean they hadn't watched *Autumn in My Heart*.

Almost no girl of that era could escape the baptism of this comprehensive tear-jerking package. Once struck by it, if you didn't cry your eyes out for months, you simply couldn't move on.

Perhaps, after tonight, the girls who would go through the trouble of spelling out romaji to make annotations just to learn the Japanese version of this song would be even more numerous than the chuunibyou teenagers of yesteryear who pieced together romaji just to sing *Saint Seiya* and *Slam Dunk*.

It was BoA's first time experiencing an eighty-thousand-seat venue. Previously, she had only performed at the thirty-thousand-seat venue in Roppongi or last year's NHK Kohaku Uta Gassen.

Watching eighty thousand people waving alternating blue and yellow glow sticks while lowering their voices to softly hum and follow along, like countless devout worshippers guided by an invisible soul, she was filled with an inexplicable sense of emotional warmth in an instant, feeling that her coordination and tacit understanding with Gu Cheng had ascended to yet another level.

Time slipped away instantly. Following *Winter Sonata* came Gu Cheng's "Man's Ocean" and "Chrysanthemum Terrace." Gu Cheng remained seated at the piano throughout, aloof and elegant, yet his vocal timbre was ethereal and distant. BoA accompanied him with tacit understanding on the side; although no one had ever choreographed dances for these two songs, she had completely immersed herself in the atmosphere.

The protagonists on stage had blurred, and the order of the acts had completely dissolved into a molecular state.

Gu Cheng's impromptu fan-interaction segments also grew more numerous and casual. Countless voices spread among the fans, letting numerous spectators who previously understood nothing learn what "full mic," "half mic," and "lip-syncing" meant. It also allowed them to witness a concert characterized by genuine, equal interaction.

There were no airs, no scripts, only natural, sincere emotions.

When the final piano note came to an abrupt halt, the accompanying band was somewhat at a loss, and the stage crew had no idea how to arrange the next step.

Gu Cheng had actually used up all of his songs in one go—originally, he was supposed to save two for the final grand finale.

Without any songs left for the finale, how could he possibly have the nerve to step onto the stage alone later and deliver his long-winded speech?

Down below, Lin Chiling was left somewhat bewildered by Gu Cheng's impromptu chaos.

The entire venue fell silent for 10 seconds. Gu Cheng seemed to have made up his mind, stood up from the piano, and took the microphone.

"I am extremely sorry. Those who know me know that I only have six songs. Yet this concert lasts nearly four hours, so besides myself, we have to sustain thirty more songs—which is why I invited so many good friends here today.

The reason I showed my face this time is actually because there are some things I want to say to the public, but I didn't want to go through a press conference that would inevitably be heavily edited. So I chose this occasion today to smuggle in some private thoughts.

Just now, getting carried away in the moment, I accidentally used up all my own songs. Therefore, I won't be able to come back up for the finale later, and if I have anything to say, I can only say it now. Everyone with a digital video camera can hold them all up. Perhaps I'm not too fond of people 'pirate-broadcasting' my concerts, but I certainly welcome everyone to record what I'm about to say next..."

Having reached this point, just as he was about to continue, a "swoosh" of camera flashes squarely beamed towards him.

"A while ago, someone online said that I am cold-blooded, that under the guise of cracking down on fraud I expelled veterans, and that I myself am the largest internet data fraudster. They claimed that all my achievements are not nearly as blazing hot as the surface data suggests.

So, here today, I want to acknowledge and admit to the things I have done. Prior to the eve of the internet winter, I did engage in some data brokerage business, helping certain clients fake traffic. But my conscience is clear; the ones I scammed were Wall Street investors—it was simply due to their lack of professional skill. Back in '98, when my late father was still alive, he failed in stock trading, but he didn't harbor resentment towards Soros. Once you step onto the battlefield, if your skills are lacking, you deserve to take a beating and stand firm.

However, some people went a step further in attacking me, claiming that my actions triggered the outbreak of the internet winter. I don't wish to argue directly against this point, because justice dwells in people's hearts. If everyone believes that the Southeast Asian financial crisis was caused single-handedly by Soros, and that the economies of Thailand and Malaysia themselves had no underlying problems, then you are entirely welcome to believe that the internet winter was caused by me as well.

None of that matters.

What I want to say is that regardless of whether the internet winter was caused by me or not, in the near future, I will be the terminator of this winter. I have already reached a collaboration with a company possessing the most cutting-edge technology in a certain domestic field, and everyone will be able to witness firsthand what we are about to accomplish. Perhaps after we present our solution, American peers will follow suit, so the final blow ending the winter might not necessarily be swung by me. But I can guarantee that the very first blow ending the winter will definitely be swung by me.

I am terribly sorry for delaying everyone for five minutes to listen to these irrelevant words."