Superstars of Tomorrow

After taking the examinations, Fang Zhao waited in Huangzhou until the results of the second round were released. He called on a few industry precursors, all of whom had been recommended by Ming Cang and Xue Jing. These people had even gone to Fang Zhao’s concert back then.

There were also a few other senior QiMu graduates that Fang Zhao got to know in the group chat. These people had helped him by sharing resources in some form or another before he’d sat for the second round of examinations. Even if Fang Zhao had not used those resources in the end, he still had to thank them.

Huangzhou Institute of Art, inside a certain office.

The second stage examination’s grading teachers from the music team were discussing Fang Zhao’s examination script.

"Not only does this young fella have a good grasp of the fundamentals, he also has high comprehension and intelligence. He is indeed really capable and has the qualifications to get into Twelve Tones. A rare talent."

There were some experiences that teachers couldn’t teach and that students would have to rely on themselves to comprehend. Students with high levels of comprehension were much easier to groom.

Some other teachers expressed a different view. "Solely based on the questions, I would give him high marks too, but we still have to take into account his character for this evaluation."

"What? Remember that accompaniment piece for the finale of season nine of ’Founding Era’ Yanzhou chapter?"

"The officially released information is that Fang Zhao completed it all by himself, but as before, I still have my doubts. That isn’t something a person his age can produce. Even if he has been able to compose a few outstanding works before, that tune in ’Founding Era’ was different."

"You guys have also agreed that he has high levels of comprehension and intelligence. What makes you so sure that he wasn’t able to produce it? There are always geniuses in this world."

"This isn’t something that being a genius can explain! Hey, I don’t know how to explain that feeling either, nor do you guys."

The grading teachers were split into two factions. One faction felt that this youngster Fang Zhao had talent and ability. His questions had been answered very well, and giving him high grades for the second round of examinations was not an issue.

But the other faction firmly believed this: "In any case, I don’t believe it! Regardless of how Fang Zhao did on his exams, he surely got others to write those previous works of his on his behalf! Toward these sorts of people that get others to substitute for them and never admit it, the overall marks for the second round examinations have to be pressed down!"

The head of the music team grading the papers watched both sides continue to disagree, and his brows scrunched up. After more disagreements and no solution, he interjected, "All right, everyone stop arguing. Since you all can’t decide on an outcome, let’s call and ask."

"Ask who?"

"I have already asked Xue Jing’s side. He denies participating in any of Fang Zhao’s composition. I believe that he would not lie about these matters, and furthermore, the style of Xue Jing’s pieces are different, so it wasn’t him."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Go ask Teacher Mo Lang."

On hearing Mo Lang’s name, both factions fell silent.

The group head saw everyone looking terrified, and he pointed at the grading teacher that had argued the loudest. "You, make the call and ask."

That teacher stuttered, "M-me?"

"Weren’t you very loud just now? Go and ask."

"You can’t blame that on me. It’s because I have a singing background and my singing techniques affected me; I’m not used to speaking softly. Besides, I do not know Teacher Mo’s contact number."

"I know. I have already helped you dial the number." As he said that, the grading group head forced a communications device into that teacher’s hands and raised his chin, indicating that teacher should hurry up and ask.

Mo Lang had just returned from planet Wai. He had recently been on vacation and had nothing to do at home, so he answered rather quickly.

The teacher nervously introduced himself first and then stated that his purpose was to find out if Mo Lang had guided Fang Zhao when Fang Zhao had been composing.

This was a rather tactful way of asking, but Mo Lang had been part of the music circles for so many years that even if he didn’t like to bother with other stuff, he could still tell the other party’s intention. The other party’s question was just indirectly asking him, " Did Teacher Mo ghostwrite for Fang Zhao?"

Mo Lang went silent.

This sort of silence wasn’t tacit agreement, but rather, it was like the gathering of black clouds. The atmosphere was both stifling and suffocating.

The other teacher’s also held their breath and tried to lower any presence of their existence. The entire room was so quiet one could hear a pin drop.

Beads of sweat appeared on the forehead of the teacher that was holding the communications device. "Teacher... Teacher Mo, we aren’t doubting your character, we are just asking that’s all."

Mo Lang became even more taciturn.

The silence made all the grading teachers feel their skin tighten. A few of them also subconsciously shifted further away. They all knew that this was the calm before the storm.

"Venerable Mo?" the teacher holding on to the communications device probed. His voice seemed to be wavering.

Old Mo Lang appeared to be breathing heavily on the video call, but when he spoke, his tone was almost flat. "I remember telling others in the industry about the matters with Fang Zhao. Listening to your words, are you implying that I’m lying?"

"No, no, no! Venerable Mo, we are just routinely asking. It’s merely a formality. Please, don’t get worked up! You absolutely mustn’t get worked up!" That teacher was so worried his face was turning red.

Mo Lang suddenly raised his voice and furiously roared, "Absolutely preposterous!"

"You mustn’t think too much! We really did not have that intention! Really!" That teacher was so worried he shot up from his chair. Old Master Mo was a treasure of an artist. If anything bad occurred to Old Mo because he had become angry, this bunch would be done for.

"Should I swear it on my Galaxy World Medal!? Ah? How do you all wish for me to prove it? I will come over to HuangArt to show you your proof! An old fellow like me can still walk! You doubt me? That’s simply vilifying all the honor I have achieved in my life! Trampling all over it!"

"No, no, no, you have really misunderstood. Without a doubt, we believe your morals. It is really just a formality! Really!"

Furious berating still continued from the other end. The grading teacher holding the communications device had sweat trickling down his forehead.

Mo Lang’s words were like large bricks aimed at his head, each one heavier than the last, smacking his head till he was dizzy.

A single person would not be able to handle Venerable Mo’s fury. He thought about looking for the other grading teachers to share the responsibility. "You guys hurry up and help explain..."

However, when he looked behind him, he realized that all the other grading teachers that had originally been sitting there had run off.

The teacher facing the full wrath on his own: "..."

At that moment, the amount of cursing in his head was enough to fill up the entire continent of Huangzhou.

Mo Lang spent more than 10 minutes admonishing that teacher through the call. However, Mo Lang was still very advanced in age, so his assistants were worried about Mo Lang’s health and advised him to calm down.

After the call ended, the grading teachers that had left returned one by one. One of them even exclaimed, "See, I already said we should seek truth from facts. If it’s good, that means it’s good. If it’s no good, then that means it’s no good. How things are is how they should be! We are but grading teachers, not the teachers that will be guiding them. If this person really has problems, then those teachers should be the ones fretting over it. Anyway, let’s not be unreasonable. Since he has already explained it well and you people haven’t been able to find evidence that someone ghostwrote, we should just evaluate him according to the exam script."

With a rigid face, the teacher holding the communications device stared accusingly at the speaker. Why didn’t you say all these before we made the call?

"According to the exam script?" The grading teacher that had sat down again looked over at the group head.

"Then let’s evaluate according to the script," the group head said.

On the day results were released, many media outlets were watching HuangArt’s official homepage.

With only 12 selected from 1000, the elimination rate was rather high.

At the appointed time, HuangArt’s Twelve Tones’s advance course page refreshed. The 12 accepted applicants were displayed.

This list was arranged according to the results of the second round examination from highest to lowest. Fang Zhao took third place.

Of the two before him, the first was a talented 40-plus-year-old Huangzhou dance artist. He had made a name for himself for many years already and had been coined the dance god’s successor.

The second was a 50-plus-year-old painter. He was still considered young in New Era terms. He came from a family with a background in painting and calligraphy and was also a genius. Not mentioning how many awards he had received, what people remembered most about him were the two paintings he had sold a while back. The selling prices of these paintings were in the tens of millions.

In the musical field, there were four entrants this year. Fang Zhao was the highest ranked from the music field.

Actually, when the music team’s grading teachers saw the final standings, they felt a little regret. If they had known it was going to turn out this way, they would have given Fang Zhao’s exam script a few more marks. This way, they would not have lagged behind dance and painting.

However, the media outlets that had their attention on the enrollment of this advanced course did not spend too much time bothering about the classifications of the standings. Their focus was on Fang Zhao.

Many entertainment media members had been putting all their effort into throwing shade on Fang Zhao, but today, they changed their tune and lauded his accomplishments.

"HuangArt’s Twelve Tones advanced course’s youngest entrant in close to 50 years! Yet another Mo Lang! The Galaxy World Medal isn’t a dream!"

"Ability? Or was it luck? The most effective good-luck charm in history!"

Entertainment news media outlets made full use of their ability to blindly create stories without logic. They inflated Fang Zhao so much that he didn’t even recognize himself.

Certain reviewers were also unwilling to keep silent on this. Some reputable reviewers even posted short evaluations on their social platform accounts: "Really unexpected. Fang Zhao has huge potential. Nobody knows how high he can climb, but there is one thing that is certain: Silver Wing Media must fear being unable to control Fang Zhao in the future."

When Silver Wing’s people saw this status, they didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Since when have we controlled him?

Right from the start, Fang Zhao had always done things beyond what the company had anticipated.

He simply had never been controlled!

In Yanzhou. On the second day after the second round’s examination results were released, Yanzhou’s Cemetery of Martyrs’s administration department held a ceremony.

On this day, the Cemetery of Martyrs’ were full of people who had come to attend the ritual. There were people from Yanzhou as well as people from other continents.

A foreign tourist saw the ceremonial guards and band walking at the front, turned to look at the dense mass of people behind him, and then lamented to his companion, "Tsk, looking at this situation, later on, by the time the ceremony is over, those amulets will surely be sold out."

His companion shot him a look of "how ignorant" and replied, "All of the amulets at this ceremony were sold out in advance! If you wished to purchase one, you would have queue up!"

That’s right, the model of amulet that Fang Zhao had used had become all the rage online. This also became a must-see location for tourists from other continents.

Some people asked them, "There are Cemeteries in every continent, so why have they all come here?"

Tourists: "This is just coincidentally joining in all the fun!"

"Why don’t you just purchase it online instead of traveling a long distance and coming all the way to Yanzhou?"

Tourist: "Sales of this model was selling too quickly, and the Cemetery’s stock cannot hold up. Online sales have closed, so one can only take a queue number for a booking. Queueing up here is still better than trying to get the goods online."

Actually, there weren’t that many people that really believed in these superstitions. They were just following the trend to join in on the excitement. They felt that after purchasing the amulet, they could treat at is a way of being pretentious. People were also willing to spend money to get the amulets as gifts for others.

Fang Zhao when he saw all this news: "..."

His feelings were once again complicated.

At the Yanbei retirement facility for veterans. In the past two days, the smile on Great-Grandfather Fang’s face had not faded. That smile of his annoyed others when they saw it.

"My family’s Little Zhao, I’m not bragging, he is just so capable! How many analysts said that he would go no further than the second round? But take a look now!" Great-Grandfather Fang showed off this year’s HuangArt’s Twelve Tones entrants to others for the umpteenth time.

"Despite competing with so many outstanding artists, he achieved third place. In ancient times, wouldn’t he be called a tan hua 1 ?"

An old veteran replied, "I heard that tan hua langs all look very good. Your great-grandson doesn’t look good."

Hearing this, Great-Grandfather Fang’s eyebrows shot up.

That old veteran hurriedly explained, "No, what I mean to say is that your great-grandson isn’t good-looking enough."

The others were all speechless. You might as well not explain.

Great-Grandfather Fang blew his top. "You are just jealous and envious and saying this because you are sour!"

Someone came forward to calm the situation down. "Old Man Fang, aren’t you supposed to be thinking about your family’s Little Fang? What are his tuition fees are going to be like? Do you need to get anything in order? I heard that the tuition for HuangArt’s Twelve Tones is especially expensive."

Great-Grandfather Fang went blank for a bit before returning to his senses. "Right, right, right, I still have responsibilities. I can’t stick around and waste time chatting with you guys!"

Great-Grandfather Fang returned to check his own little treasury and went to research Huangzhou’s Twelve Tones’s tuition fees. He also went to contact some old friends of his from the education system to ask whether there were any procedures needed or if they could pull any strings.

Very quickly, he received replies. "Tuition fees? The tuitions fees for that advanced course are really expensive. One person will have to spend a few hundred thousand a year, and that isn’t counting in lifestyle expenditure. Spending money is a must when building interpersonal relationships with others over there, and it doesn’t cost any less than the tuition fees. But you also need not worry. For an advanced course like Twelve Tones, as long as someone manages to enroll, they will be taking a straight path for grooming talents in our continent. The Ministry of Education is in charge, so there isn’t any need to pull strings. Any procedures will be handled right at the start, and the scholarships given out can offset the tuition fees. All you all need to do is handle daily living expenses. However, your family’s Xiao Zhao earns quite a lot; what are you so worried for?

"What he earns is his own money. What I’m giving him is just my kind intentions as an elder! Do you understand what ’kind intentions’ means?"

Great-Grandfather Fang had his own tiny inclinations. He wanted to show that he could still be of use. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have peace of mind. If he could not even do anything to help, wouldn’t he be just like this bunch of old fogeys who spent all day in the garden chatting and gossiping idly?

After learning about the matters before entering school, Great-Grandfather Fang started dreaming about the future again, and a crazed smile appeared on his face.

HuangArt was good, a top-notch advanced course in a top-notch school. It would be best if Fang Zhao found an equally capable and like-minded girlfriend, just like that recent teenage-idol serial with classmates from the same class being lovey-dovey and so on.

But then, Great-Grandfather Fang thought about the ages of Fang Zhao’s coursemates...

His smile gradually vanished