Chapter 117: Down-to-Earth!
The promotional signing event in Harbing began at one in the afternoon and continued until five-thirty. As soon as it wrapped up, Jiang Lun hurried without pause to the Flood Control Memorial Tower Square to participate in the opening of tonight’s street music festival.
The street music festival is one of Harbing’s annual summer highlights—lively, grand, and a vibrant exchange of exquisite international programs. This year marked its fifth edition.
Jiang Lun was invited as a guest to the opening ceremony. Before the official start, he needed to rehearse with the live band on site, but he had only half an hour to spare.
That was enough, though, since he planned to perform only three songs, unlike the last Ideal Music Festival where he sang for half an hour straight.
A corner bar had been temporarily transformed into the rehearsal venue. The band had been waiting a while, and Jiang Lun, feeling a bit apologetic, stepped forward to greet and shake hands with each member. “Sorry, sorry for keeping you all waiting!”
“No worries. The previous act just finished rehearsing less than twenty minutes ago!” the band members responded warmly, their thick northeastern accents full of local hospitality.
“Let’s get started then! We shouldn’t waste time,” Jiang Lun said, immediately preparing.
The guitarist asked, “You just arrived—won’t you rest a bit?”
“No need, time’s tight. I can rest after rehearsal,” Jiang Lun smiled, taking the electric guitar handed to him by Mai Le and tuning it.
His song list had been sent in advance, and the musicians had privately rehearsed beforehand. Jiang Lun’s arrival was just to run through the set once.
They practiced the three songs, skipping much of the stage movement and audience banter, completing two runs in just over twenty minutes.
“That’s good enough. Once on stage, we’ll improvise a bit. If anything goes wrong, please bear with me,” Jiang Lun joked, setting expectations—stage performances were unpredictable, and his schedule was tight.
Afterward, Mai Le brought over a bottle of beer, and Jiang Lun offered a toast. “Come on, one for the road!”
“No problem! Cheers!” the musicians responded enthusiastically.
Mai Le, also from the northeast, spoke in their native tongue, instantly creating a sense of warmth and camaraderie.
By evening, at half past seven, the festival officially opened.
It had been underway since May, with several districts in Harbing hosting rotating shows highlighting music from around the world. Tonight marked the grand opening, with representatives from all participating nations gathering here and eager audiences arriving from far and wide.
Among the crowd were not only Chinese but many Western faces as well.
The men aside, the women stood out—fair-skinned with exotic features. Their figures varied; some tall and striking, others petite and curvaceous, radiating a sensual allure.
Jiang Lun headed backstage, where the band that had rehearsed with him was already at the stage entrance. Apart from bands and stars who brought their own musicians, performers like Jiang Lun relied on this group to accompany them.
The festival’s opening act was a globally popular English song. As lights bathed the stage, the performers gradually emerged into view.
This international band was fully equipped with a strong lineup—not only modern instruments but also traditional ethnic ones—and featured a brass ensemble with a particularly striking duet between the tuba and trumpet, which became a highlight.
The skillful fusion of diverse elements felt seamless, offering a unique flavor without seeming jarring.
During an interlude, the lead singer greeted the audience in fluent, authentic Mandarin, prompting cheers and screams.
As the song ended, several motorcycles suddenly raced onto the stage for a stunt show, while model aircraft soared overhead, releasing plumes of colorful smoke.
A band from Germany slowly rose from the center of the stage. The members shouted once and took their positions.
Heavy rock music roared out briefly, but this was only an introduction. Their main performance was not a rock song but a genuine, heartfelt ballad sung in Chinese.
The festival would continue for three days, with more than twenty countries and over a hundred musicians gathered to showcase the charm of Harbing, a city renowned for music and fashion.
An hour passed swiftly, and Jiang Lun’s turn was approaching.
The performer before him was a Spanish female singer who concluded with a Bossa Nova-style rendition of a Chinese song, her light, graceful movements igniting wild cheers from the crowd.
“Thank you all! I love China, especially Harbing. I love this beautiful country, this beautiful city, and most of all, I love you!” she exclaimed before descending from the lift stage.
At that moment, the lights suddenly went out. The LED backdrop flashed with a beam of light and then transformed into a starry sky, with shooting stars streaking across it.
“I wonder, how long can a shooting star fly...” Jiang Lun’s voice echoed from every speaker, stirring a commotion among the audience.
“No way! Jiang Lun’s here?”
“He’s the first Chinese male singer tonight!”
“This is big!”
“It’s ‘Shooting Star’! I know this song!”
“Where is he? Why aren’t the lights on yet?”
The ordinary spectators were buzzing, while Jiang Lun’s fan club had already claimed their spot, their screams rising in excitement.
“He’s out! He’s out!”
“Jiang Lun, I love you!”
“I was so excited to hear this song today; I went to his signing but didn’t get to hear it. Didn’t expect to hear it here.”
“Shh! Listen to the music!”
“Who’s Shh?”
The lights flickered on, illuminating only Jiang Lun’s silhouette. His shadow stretched long under the spotlight as he slowly walked toward the front of the stage.
“Willingly… to fall into your hands!
Transform… into the rainbow of the night!
Metamorphose… into the breeze of moonlight…”
Jiang Lun stood at the stage’s edge, singing and waving to the crowd.
“Turn off all your glow sticks and switch on your phone flashlights, okay?”
As he finished speaking, the waving glow sticks went dark, replaced by a sea of phone lights twinkling like a starlit night.
“This next song is for you. Thank you for creating this sea of stars for me. You are my… ‘Brightest Star in the Night Sky’!”
He turned the guitar from his back to the front and began to strum.
“The brightest star in the night sky, can you hear clearly the loneliness and sighs in the heart of the one gazing up...”
He sang softly, the audience joining in harmony.
This was a music festival, not a gala. The crowd consisted of music lovers and fans. Though Jiang Lun’s “Brightest Star in the Night Sky” had never been officially recorded, many knew it by heart.
Even those who didn’t know the words, especially foreigners, hummed along as if providing background vocals. Such is the magic of music.
After performing two songs in a medley, Jiang Lun bowed and then turned to run toward the main stage.
Many in the audience were stunned—huh? Just two songs?
Fans in his support section shouted for an encore without hesitation.
Before long, the stage transformed dramatically. Lights blazed to full brightness. The motorcycle stunt performers returned, this time circling the main stage before moving to the side stages.
What surprised everyone more was the sudden rush of people from the audience toward the stage. The security guards didn’t stop them. They leapt onto the stage and quickly formed formations, each pulling out a pair of nunchaku as if by magic.
Only then did the rest of the audience realize these performers were organized. They wore matching white half-sleeved shirts emblazoned with the words “Harbing Martial Arts Academy.”
Ah! It was the Harbing Buddhist Martial Arts Academy, one of the festival’s sponsors. Their disciples had prepared a performance.
“The smoky scent from the rock grill next door drifts into the martial arts hall, where the hostess’s tea ceremony flows through its three stages...”
Jiang Lun had put down his guitar and was now holding a pair of nunchaku, singing and skillfully wielding them.
The previously astonished audience erupted into cheers.
Some foreign friends who recognized “Nunchaku” smiled broadly. “Hey, I’ve heard this Chinese song!”
Backstage, various foreign band members showed mixed reactions.
Those familiar with the song were thrilled and even stood to sway and show off cool moves, embracing their playful side.
Most, however, were baffled, exchanging incredulous looks.
“What? The Chinese actually dare to rap on such a formal stage?”
“Hmm... his rap style sounds different from what we know.”
“It’s rock, pop, and rap all mixed... what kind of strange music is this?”
“Let’s go see!”
Chaos unfolded backstage as everyone rushed to the front, eager to catch a glimpse of the singer—what he looked like, whether they knew him before.
At that moment, Jiang Lun finished the first section, and the musicians behind the mic shouted, “Ganha ni? Ganha ni?”
“Breath in, breath out, heart at ease!” Jiang Lun sang, the band echoing, “Ganha ni? Ganha ni?”
Fans familiar with the original version froze—wasn’t it supposed to be “gan gai”? Why had it turned into northeastern dialect?
“What are you doing? What are you doing?”
Hearing the repeated calls, all the northeastern men in the audience burst into laughter. “This guy’s got jokes! So down-to-earth!”
But the surprises didn’t end there.
Jiang Lun pointed his nunchaku toward the audience and declared, “Hmph! Quickly, use the nunchaku!”
Suddenly, the musicians and martial artists on stage shouted in unison, “Um ah za de!”
“Um ah za de!”
... (To be continued.)