The video fast forwarded without any background music, only the movement of the song and the interruptions. A large part of it was only breathtaking silence.
The morning passed with zero progress on the song recording.
The viewers watched in the video as Qi Cong apologized to the staff again during the lunch break, and then silently followed his agent to leave for a meal, making everyone feel more and more uncomfortable.
Sure enough, he was affected. Wouldn’t it be hard for Qi Cong to really finish the recording of “A New Life?” Is he thinking that his own new life is no longer possible and that he wasn’t able to sing this song well anymore?
Some people couldn’t help commenting.
– Qi Cong you mustn’t be defeated, survive ! It will get better and you won’t be defeated ah! You’ll start over, you’ll get better, come on!
Driven by this pop-up, more encouraging words of cheering appeared on the screen and comment section. Everyone really hoped that Qi Cong wouldn’t be crushed by those malicious rumors and that this young man, whom they had only really known for a short time, would really regain his life.
The turnaround came after lunch. In the video, Qi Cong’s manager suspended the recording and gave Qi Cong a three-hour break to adjust his condition.
Qi Cong returned to the practice room alone and took out his phone first, refreshing it frequently. Then as if he was in some kind of trance, he refreshed it time after time.
Someone sent a pop-up: Is he reading Weibo?
No one paid attention to this pop-up, because everyone knew what it probably was. Qi Cong must be reading the boycott comments on Weibo.
They didn’t know how long it took, but Qi Cong locked his phone and went to the window to open the curtains. The sunlight spilled in, and as if he noticed something, he also pulled the window open.
“Qi Cong! You…”
“Qi Cong you….”
Some vague calls could be heard and Qi Cong immediately closed the window.
The barrage and comment section become lively again.
– What’s that noise?
-I think I heard a shutter sound?
-I remember some little article I saw earlier with a picture of Qi Cong standing behind the window taken from downstairs. It must be the paparazzi wanting to take pictures!
-Ahhhh, paparazzi are so annoying! Leave him alone! Will you let him have quiet for a while, please!
The viewers started to get annoyed but Qi Cong in the video just picked up his phone again after closing the window and kept refreshing something, always frowning. They didn’t know how long it took but his hand suddenly stopped and looked straight at the phone for a while. Then he turned away from the camera and reopened the curtains, taking a deep breath.
After that, he picked up the phone and dialed. Then a low hoarse voice that was obviously choked under strong pressure rang out. “Mom… I’m fine, don’t you worry.”
The camera was pulled away, as if the cameraman didn’t want to disturb the conversation between Qi Cong and his mother at this moment.
In the video, the figure of Qi Cong standing by the window with his back to the camera was enveloped in sunlight, warm but thin. Outside the video, the audience had been crying again. This “Mom” was really…
You’re not okay, how can you be okay?! Can you stop being so sensible? You are the one who gets hurt the most.
The video blurred and brightened again, showing that more than one hour passed. Qi Cong once again stood in the recording studio, wearing headphones, his expression serious and quiet, eyes firm and clear. You could tell at one glance that his state was completely different.
The recording engineer made a “ok?” gesture toward Qi Cong, who held up his headphones and looked at the music score on the stand in front of him.
When the recording was about to start again, the door of the studio was suddenly pushed open and Cao Dewen came in with a new copy of the lyrics. Qi Cong put down his headphones and walked out, taking the lyrics and reading them. Then, he raised his eyes to look at Cao Dewen.
Cao Dewen asked: “How is it?”
“Thank you.” Qi Cong’s eyes were slightly red, but he smiled for the first time that day as he replied. “Thank you Mr. Cao, this version of lyrics… is great. “
The audience looked at Qi Cong’s red eyes and smile and felt sick once again.
In the video, Qi Cong returned to the recording booth and put on his headphones again. Then he focused on the music in front of him.
The prelude to “A New Life” sounded, slowly overshadowing all the other sounds in the video, until only the prelude could be heard. The vlog editing also became more lyrical and softer, as then the video suddenly split in two. In one was a picture of Qi Cong song, and the other half which slowly turned from dark to light finally turned into a birth certificate.
The accompaniment continued to play. Qi Cong opened his lips at perfect timing with the most perfect emotion as he sang the first lyric: I always expected luxury of hope after I was born.
As the song appeared, in the other half of the screen another picture slowly fell, covering the birth certificate.
The audience was stunned for a moment by the split screen and the sudden change of lyrics, then quickly understood that Qi Cong wasn’t singing the lyrics of the official version of “A New Life”. Then their attention was attracted by the other side of the screen.
It was a baby photo. Looking at the background arrangement it should be an old photo. The baby in the photo was white, tender and very lovely. He lied in the cradle and smiled foolishly toward the camera, his eyes clear. In one corner of the photo, in gentle and elegant handwriting, a line was written: Happy first month.
The singing voice could be heard again: But the world is like a journey, always full of ups and downs and unpredictable.
Another photo appeared, this time it was a photo of a toddler. He was still smiling at the camera, bright and soft. There was still a line of words at the corner of the photo which reads: Cong has learned to walk.
As the song continued , the photos appeared one after another. Qi Cong, the main character of the photos, grew up slowly. He could walk by himself without holding things, he learned to run, and he learned to ride a small bicycle. He put on his backpack and entered kindergarten, he spilled ink all over himself while trying to use a brush, and he practiced the piano seriously with a stuffed steamed bun face. Some short words were always accompanying the photo, recording every memorable moment of the child’s growth.
When the song entered the chorus, emotions began to erupt as the photos fell faster and faster. The grown-up child participated in a competition for the first time, he took home an award for the first time, then the second, third, fourth….
He learns many things, paper-cutting, pottery, painting, and dancing. The photo turned into videos, as the child, who has grown into a beautiful little teenager, held another trophy and ran toward the camera. The shape of his mouth seemed to be shouting “Mom”. The pictures filled with trophies were quickly pulled away as the young man, about 15 or 16 years old, stood in front of a school building in a red and black uniform, holding flowers as he was smiling toward the camera. Behind him, the banner wishing the outstanding student representatives successful completion of exchange activities hung proudly. In the corner of the photo, the gentle small print wasn’t absent: Wishing Cong a successful exchange abroad.
The chorus ended and the interlude played.
Then Qi Cong sang as another photo appeared: But the world is like a journey, always full of ups and downs and unpredictable.
The figure of the teenager swayed and disappeared as an admission notice from Haven University appeared.
The song continued, but the admission notice wavered and disappeared as it finally turned into a photo. In the photo, Qi Cong, who had now become an adult, was standing at attention in the corner of a schoolyard in his military training uniform, wearing the badge of outstanding cadet on his chest. The sunlight fell on him, illuminating his body full of confidence.
The lyric could be heard again: There was a time when I was naive, saying that nightmares had nothing to do with me.
The photos that had fallen suddenly began to fly quickly towards the camera, as the picture changed into a group photo. In the group photo, the grown-up teenager’s age regressed and he became younger with the change of the photo. He stood at the front gate of a university smiling as he took pictures with his parents. He hugged his mother outside the college entrance examination room, in high school ran together with Shen Jia in a long-distance event, was touched on his head by his teacher outside the piano competition. There were also photos of him celebrating his friend’s birthday in the calligraphy classroom and presenting his works to the teacher in the origami class. Photos of him during a summer, running together with his friends, being held in the arms of an old Sanmu employee at the Sanmu factory and wiping away the tears of his crying classmate at the gates of the kindergarten. Finally, the photo was of him, back to when he was a toddler, smiling as he threw himself in the arms of a woman in a long dress.
The chorus was about to come, as the lyrics sounded: But dreams are like books, which will inevitably lead to joys, sorrows or eternal separation.
The photos suddenly shattered and disappeared as a new photo of Qi Cong’s pale face leaning on the hospital bed appeared. In the corner of the photo, the same gentle handwriting wrote: Cong, Mom wishes you get better quickly.
The music gradually became strong. In the other half of the video, Qi Cong closed his eyes and sang: After what I have experienced you must never come near me again.
The photos changed quickly again. Countless checklists, countless medical records, they fell like snowflakes, one on top of the other, until the whole screen was filled.
The music broke out, the second chorus came, as the rapidly stacking cases suddenly exploded and shattered together as a screenshot of the report appeared. Qi Cong sang: If one day I become a demon, will you run away or hold me tight?
The first paragraph of the report was highlighted: A patient at the third city Hospital became agitated and tried to jump off the building, but was persuaded after a two-hour standoff.
Qi Cong: If one day I lose myself, will you push me away or reach out?
Surveillance video footage showed Qi Cong entering Yanhuang in slightly rustic clothes, his walking posture cowering, his head habitually bowed down. There wasn’t even a trace of the confidence from previous photos.
Qi Cong: If one day I become a coward, will you be disgusted or help me?
Another surveillance video appeared in which Qi Cong was working and was caught and scolded by Jiang Zhaoyan’s parents. Then he was caught and reprimanded by Jiang Zhaoyan in various areas of the company. In each picture, Qi Cong acted obedient and didn’t try to resist. He let the others bully him.
Qi Cong sang: If one day I get sick, will you dislike or comfort me?
The surveillance images were replaced by screenshots of various Weibo posts and words such as “Qi Cong split personality”, “Qi Cong amnesia” and “Qi Cong tendency to violence” were marked, one word at a time, until the whole picture was covered densely.
Qi Cong sang: If I have no memory, will you help me find my way home?
The dense words disappeared, and a lot of screenshots of Weibo articles appeared. Sentences such as “Qi Cong white-eyed wolf, not caring about his own parents”, “Qi Cong, due to unrequited love tries to frame Yanhuang company”, “Qi Cong maxed out credit cards while forcing his parents to live in an old neighborhood.”, “Qi Cong’s chaotic private life” and other articles’ titles flew out, taking over the whole screen.
Music erupted, the song continued: I stared in surprise, not daring to believe your choice.
I trembled and buried my head, crying over your choice.
All these fast-changing cruel words were suddenly smashed by a heavy hammer and turned into a still screenshot of the success of Qi Yin registered Weibo.
Qi Cong sang: When one day I turned into a demon, you didn’t run away, but held me tight.
Sitting in the warm living room, Qi Yin said to the camera, “I still didn’t want to give up, thinking that my child could get better.”
In a shaky video, people come and go from the airport as Shen Jia, with a smile, took off the necklace around his neck and put it on Qi Cong’ neck. Then he put his arm around Qi Cong’s shoulders.
In the shaky video, people come and go from the airport as Shen Jia with a smile took off the necklace around his neck and put it on Qi Cong’s neck. Then he put his arm around Qi Cong’s shoulder.
The emotions in the song gradually intensified: When one day I became a coward, you weren’t disgusted but helped me.
When one day I was sick, you didn’t dislike me but soothed me.
The swaying images disappeared, turning into the clarification announcement sent by Manju Entertainment Company and the Weibo sent out by Shen Jia: “You protected me before, I’ll protect you now.” Then Gu Xun’s 10 consecutive Weibos appeared followed by the encouraging words of strangers, one Weibo post after another.
Qi Cong sang: When I had no memory you were always there to help me find my way home.
When I was no longer me, you were still afraid that I would be displaced, miserable and lonely.
The Weibo pictures disappeared and became one WeChat chat screenshot after another.
Mom: How is work?
Mom: If you are tired, come back.
Dad: Don’t worry about us, do you have enough money on hand?
Dad: Cong, don’t be afraid. It’s alright you still have mom and dad.
Emotions erupted to the highest point, and then gradually fell back. In the other half of the screen, Qi Cong opened his eyes and looked at the lyrics, his expression gentle and voice low: I have been in despair and felt that my life was lost. It’s your proximity that has changed me, thank you for your proximity that has changed me.
The screenshot of WeChat disappeared and turned into a photo of Qi Cong and Shen Jia in front of Manju Entertainment Company and a photo of Qi Cong and his parents eating together in their new home, looking warmly at each other. The two halves of the picture then fused into one.
In the recording studio, Qi Cong took off his headphones after the music disappeared, blinked his somewhat swollen eyes, looked at the staff outside the recording room and asked, “Is this OK?”
All the staff looked at him without saying anything but after a few seconds everyone cheered and applauded together, and the recording engineer shouted excitedly, “Of course it’s OK!”
Qi Cong smiled as he looked at the music score on the shelf, touching it tenderly.
Subtitles appeared, announcing the completion of the recording of “A New Life”, then the screen went black as the video ended completely.
The comment sections and live stream barrages of various platforms were quiet for a few seconds, then exploded with a bang.
In such an atmosphere, Qi Cong appeared in the live broadcast.
He sat in front of a backdrop of vines and flowers as he seriously introduced himself to the live stream audience. “Hello, I’m Qi Cong. It’s my first time meeting you, please take care of me.”
In the backstage of the interview room, Zhao Zhenxun looked at the rapidly rising popularity of the slipstream and the various gift effects that suddenly appeared on the screen, stacking layer upon layer. His heart relaxed as he showed a rare smile.
This level of popularity at the starting line was okay.
Edited by: Antiope1