Chapter 46

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This chapter is edited by Rain. Thank you for your contribution!

Chapter 46: Like the Warmth of Brewing Tea in Winter

Dormitory.

Chu Yuanqing couldn’t resist the inviting atmosphere and abandoned her perfect plan to go to bed. Though feeling conflicted inside, she sat on the bench like a diligent student, carefully listening to Tang Liuli’s valuable teachings.

Tang Liuli had a solid foundation in singing and explained its key points simply and understandably. Chu Yuanqing, however, felt a bit confused by the explanation. She vaguely understood that singing techniques were intricate and involved many details, much like dancing.

Singing incorporates various elements such as breathing for sound production, breath control, resonance, posture, and diction. Each aspect demands extensive practice to master.

Charlotte must know a lot about singing too, right?

The Last Diva, without relying on any blessings, used exceptional skills and a voice full of emotion to momentarily lift the spirits of the survivors in the main city. Her performance allowed them to briefly forget their despair and fear, filling their hearts with happiness and hope. Without such miraculous singing, it would have been challenging for her, newly returned from the Pure White Forbidden Zone and still depleted of the power of memes, to defeat the powerful disaster beast that controlled fear.

Feeling nostalgic, Chu Yuanqing listened more attentively. Tang Liuli thought the teacher seemed even more accomplished now. The little girl pursed her lips, suppressed a cough, and said:

“Anyway, remember these things for now. There are basic training methods on the iPad. Make sure to practice a little every day.”

“But practice according to your vocal cords’ capacity. Don’t rush. If you don’t understand something, you can ask me.”

“As for the song ‘Candy,’ it’s not very difficult. There are no complex techniques, and it doesn’t require special vocal conditions. Let me sing it for you first.”

Tang Liuli glanced at the sheet music on her iPad and softly sang a few lines. Chu Yuanqing found it magical. On stage, Tang Liuli portrayed a mermaid-like ethereal quality with a melancholic style that seemed at odds with “Candy.” However, her current voice was sweet and light, almost identical to the recording in the “Candy” music video. Even without accompaniment, it was delightful.

Is this the singing ability required for the lead vocalist position?

After demonstrating, Tang Liuli handed over the headphones and said, “Listen to the song a few times, then try singing a couple of lines for me.”

Chu Yuanqing blinked, put on the headphones, and listened for a while. Then she sang a few lines. Her voice was distinctive, icy yet fierce, tingling, and pleasant to the ears.

Tang Liuli, unsurprised, commented: “Your initial stage performance, choosing not to sing, was the right decision. Although your voice is pleasant, without vocal training, you’re still at a basic level. Your pitch control at the end of notes is inconsistent, your pronunciation in the mid-range is off, and most importantly… you probably don’t know how to read music, right?”

Chu Yuanqing didn’t understand at first, but when Tang Liuli showed her the musical score on the iPad, she felt immense sadness at the sight of the five unclear lines and various fancy symbols.

Right, vocal training involves more than just singing skills; it also requires understanding music theory. Chu Yuanqing sighed and shook her head, indicating her lack of knowledge.

Her initial impression of idols had been that they simply hopped around on stage, half-heartedly singing, and as long as they were attractive, that was enough. She had assumed that after passing the audition, earning money would be easy. But she hadn’t realized that idols had to learn so much. Even mastering basic dance and singing was hard enough, let alone combining the two or tackling advanced techniques.

Is the stage really such a captivating thing?

Seeing Chu Yuanqing’s blank expression, Tang Liuli thought she was distressed and anxious. Feeling a bit guilty, Tang Liuli lowered her eyes and awkwardly lied:

“It’s okay if you can’t. I haven’t read sheet music in a long time either. I’ll mark the simplified notes and send them to you. It’ll be easier to understand that way.”

This clumsy lie was meant to placate Chu Yuanqing for now. If the audience during a live broadcast caught on, comments like “secretly in love,” “don’t love too much,” and “bumping into each other” would surely flood in, embarrassing Tang Liuli beyond belief.

Chu Yuanqing didn’t refuse.

The teacher is only responsible for teaching ‘Candy.’ It’s better to learn well from this child today than to risk embarrassment in class tomorrow.

Afterward, Tang Liuli began marking music notes, while Chu Yuanqing pulled out basic music theory materials from her iPad, doing her best to memorize and learn.

Though she had once been blessed to the extreme, the cost of correcting the world line had left her with many debuffs, rendering her mediocre. This slowed her learning efficiency. Yet, as a magical girl, her extended lifespan and ability to filter noise from the Sea of Truth allowed her to focus more on the real world.

Simply put, Chu Yuanqing’s concentration could now reach a state of flow, also known as the realm of “Heart Flow.” For someone who had once listened to the world’s soul, gathering power to move mountains and seas, this was not a high skill but was just right for her current needs.

Immersed in the ocean of music theory knowledge, Chu Yuanqing looked serious. This forgotten savior had long ago accepted her mediocrity. While past glory only revealed collapsed ruins, she believed that even picking up scattered fragments yielded gains far greater than losses.

Her wish before becoming a savior was to create a world that didn’t need one. And this world—without wars or disaster beasts but full of stages and idols—was the best gift she could imagine.

Time passed.

Tang Liuli, having finished marking the sheet music, stretched lazily and gazed at the scenery beyond the window. She then turned to look at Chu Yuanqing, who sat at her desk with a straight back and refined posture. In the dim light, her divine profile exuded a holy and dignified air. Her thin pink lips curved slightly as if reflecting the glow of countless comforting lights instead of dull music theory.

How strange… Just looking at this person brought a mysterious sense of happiness.

Tang Liuli quietly placed the iPad down, returned to her bed, and lay down. Unable to resist, she turned to watch Chu Yuanqing again. As she watched, her eyelids grew heavy, and drowsiness crept over her.

In a hazy view, Chu Yuanqing’s profile seemed gentle. Tang Liuli slowly closed her eyes, her consciousness fading into darkness. Drifting in and out of sleep, fears from the past swarmed like snakes. Yet, Chu Yuanqing’s presence felt like a small red clay stove in winter, radiating cozy warmth akin to brewing tea.

This warmth brought a long-lost sense of tranquility, dispelling fear and embracing her soul.

Many years later, the girl, once wrapped in self-doubt and fear, would remember this night when she fell asleep peacefully for the first time, cradled in a tide of soothing warmth.