Chapter 86: The Charity Gala (Part Two)

Chapter Eighty-Six: The Charity Gala (Part Two)

With the debut of "Thousand-Handed Bodhisattva," the influence of this charity gala would inevitably soar. To draw attention to people with disabilities was no longer a mere aspiration.

There are many charity galas, but although "charity" comes first in the title, what always draws the most attention is the "gala" aspect. In previous years, both the media and the audience focused far more on the celebrities and performers than on the actual theme of the event.

But this time, thanks to "Thousand-Handed Bodhisattva," the charity gala might finally avoid being overshadowed by its entertainment. The significance of this dance was evident.

Of all the invited celebrities, very few could present songs that truly matched the theme of the evening. Yang Xiner's "Invisible Wings" was a rare gem, and as a new release, it was expected to be the highlight of the night. Yet once "Thousand-Handed Bodhisattva" took the stage, nothing could compete with its impact.

However, since the dance was associated with Zhang Le, mention of Zhang Le inevitably brought up Yang Xiner as well. Thus, the influence of the performance was somewhat diluted in regards to Yang Xiner.

The performances that followed were clearly little more than filler. Many in the audience paid them no mind, still immersed in the shock of the previous dance, while others immediately began to debate whether it was Yang Li or Zhang Le who deserved credit for the performance.

The outcome of the discussion was hardly surprising: Yang Li had brought the dance to life, but it was Zhang Le's film that inspired her. Some people, however, raised objections. They argued, with good reason, that the host had introduced the dance as a collaborative effort, and Zhang Le's name had appeared before Yang Li's in the television credits.

Of course, this debate had only just begun; the real storm would break after the gala ended.

As the awe of "Thousand-Handed Bodhisattva" slowly settled in their hearts, people began to appreciate the other performances. Their anticipation for Zhang Le's upcoming performance only grew.

They did not have to wait long. Zhang Le soon appeared on stage—but to the audience's surprise, Yang Xiner accompanied him.

A duet? The thought flashed through the audience's minds.

Yet further confusion arose when they saw Yang Xiner helping Zhang Le onto the stage. Was something wrong with Zhang Le?

It was not a duet; Yang Xiner had no microphone on her hand or body.

Attentive viewers quickly noticed that Zhang Le's eyes were covered with a blindfold—he could see nothing. Why was he appearing like this?

Yang Xiner led Zhang Le to the front of the stage, and then his backup dancers appeared, moving in pairs—each pair supporting one another. There were duos of men and women, old and young, adults and children... many combinations, but with one thing in common: in each pair, one person's eyes were blindfolded.

The audience began to understand.

“‘You Are My Eyes,’ presented to everyone in hopes of drawing attention to those who have lost their sight. As you listen to this song, I hope you will close your eyes and imagine what it would be like if you could no longer see...” Zhang Le announced.

As he spoke, the music began.

If I could see
I could easily tell day from night
I could reach for your hand
In the midst of the crowd
...
You are my eyes
Leading me to witness the changing seasons
You are my eyes
Guiding me through bustling crowds
You are my eyes
Letting me read the infinite sea of books
...

When Zhang Le finished singing, he did not remove his blindfold. Instead, supported once more by Yang Xiner, he left the stage. He did not see the tears shimmering at the corners of her eyes, nor the determination shining within them.

That steadfast gaze seemed to tell the world: if Zhang Le were ever truly unable to see, she would be his eyes.

The song struck directly at the depths of the soul. Beneath the stage, in front of televisions, tears were already flowing. People who had lost their sight, their families and friends, listened to the song with tears streaming down their faces, some even sobbing uncontrollably.

Those who followed Zhang Le’s suggestion and closed their eyes while listening to the song found themselves pondering: If I could not see, who would be my eyes?

With just one song, countless people gained a profound understanding of those without sight.

This song played an active role in raising awareness for people with disabilities. Hearing it, listeners thought not only of the blind, but also tried to feel the world as those without sight must experience it.

This charity gala was, without a doubt, a tremendous success, its influence surpassing all expectations.

A dance and two songs became the hottest topics of conversation. "Invisible Wings" and "You Are My Eyes" shot to the top of the music charts, competing fiercely for the number one spot. Many singers could only shake their heads in resignation. Whenever Zhang Le wrote and composed a song, it seemed no matter who performed it, it would outshine all the others.

Zhang Le’s music once again became the talk of the town.

Yet to Zhang Le, composing seemed like mere play, which drove many professional musicians to despair. If he could achieve such heights just as a hobby, what hope was there left for those who made this their life’s work?

However, the greatest impact did not come from the two songs, but from the dance "Thousand-Handed Bodhisattva." After the gala, it instantly became a trending topic, sparking widespread discussion and even controversy.

The controversy, of course, centered on who truly created the dance.

Everyone knew the dance originated from a spoof segment in the film "Crazy Stone." Yes—a spoof! Previously, few would have connected that word to the piece, but now, after witnessing the stage performance, it was clear the film had been parodying this classic dance.

Yet the sequence in the film came first, and the stage performance came after. The chronology seemed off for a parody.

Still, it was undeniable that Zhang Le had been the first to conceive of the dance. In the film, it was merely humorous, but on stage, it became art.

Who was the creator? Without Zhang Le, the dance could never have existed. He truly was its originator, and he had participated in choreographing it as well.

But Zhang Le, for all his brilliance, was primarily a director. In the world of dance, Yang Li was the true professional, and she had created many classic performances. It was Yang Li who transformed a comedic dance into a work of art—Zhang Le had, at most, provided her with inspiration.

The debate began online, spreading to newspapers, magazines, and television, eventually drawing in numerous experts to share their opinions.

As expected, all those so-called experts gave the credit to Yang Li and even ridiculed Zhang Le. Some went so far as to suggest that the online voices naming Zhang Le as the creator were merely paid shills hired to snatch credit.

The controversy snowballed, leaving Zhang Le utterly perplexed.

At last, the two principals had to step forward. To everyone’s surprise, both Zhang Le and Yang Li insisted on giving the credit to one another.

There was no bitter quarrel or struggle for credit, to the disappointment of many spectators.

Zhang Le stated that Yang Li was the true creator of the dance; he had only made a few suggestions, and besides, he had been busy filming during rehearsals. The dance he had directed was a joke, while Yang Li’s was a work of art.

Yang Li, on the other hand, maintained that the choreography was mostly Zhang Le’s, and she had merely realized his vision. She even shared Zhang Le’s handwritten notes.

With both refusing to claim sole credit, and each praising the other effusively, public debate faded away.

Those who had mocked Zhang Le found themselves hoisted by their own petard, their words empty and self-defeating.