Chapter 67: I’ll Sing Backup for You

Wang Lei had not anticipated how swiftly things would change; truly, plans could never keep up with reality. He had originally hoped to spend a “harmonious” New Year with Ma Dongmei and her family, but who could have guessed that Ma Pingdong would join forces with Old Zhang and stir up such a storm?

Singing songs and gaining a bit of fame seemed pleasant enough to Wang Lei—at least it brought some attention to his football team. But appearing on the national New Year's Gala, becoming a big star, that worried him. Everyone knew that celebrities had no privacy; their lives were constantly under the spotlight, and that was not the life Wang Lei desired.

Now, the two passionate elders had already found their respective patrons. At this point, the situation was beyond Wang Lei’s control. He wanted to refuse, but if he truly said no, Ma Dongmei would be the first to step up and slap him.

Ma Dongmei had no intention of “regretting teaching her husband to seek fame”; she wished for more people to witness Lei’s talent, proving her own judgment flawless—she had, after all, set her sights on him from childhood.

Alone and outnumbered, Wang Lei couldn’t withstand the simultaneous assault of Ma Dongmei’s pleading gaze, Ma Pingdong’s furious glare, and Old Zhang’s frosty stare. He had no choice but to grit his teeth and agree to perform at the New Year’s Gala.

“Such fussiness—not manly at all.”

So, in the end, he was left with that comment.

It was already ten o’clock on the night of the twenty-eighth day of the twelfth lunar month. Old Zhang drove Wang Lei and Ma Pingdong toward the central building of the national television station.

Ma Dongmei had been sent home first; she needed to calm the nearly furious Li Weihong. Both her husband and daughter had been lured out by Wang Lei, and it was already past ten at night without them returning—anyone would be angry.

“When you meet this person later, show proper respect. This is a true veteran, remember that, Lei.”

“Who exactly is it? Can you stop being so mysterious? The more you act this way, the more curious I become.”

Old Zhang, driving, kept up the air of secrecy with Wang Lei. He usually didn’t do this, but tonight, inspired by Wang Lei’s song, he decided to play mysterious for once.

“Don’t listen to his nonsense. This person has a very good temper, an old artist, easy to talk to. She’s Teacher Li Pingyi, who sings ‘Unforgettable Tonight’ at the end of every New Year’s Gala. When the time comes, humble yourself, explain things clearly to Teacher Li, she won’t make things difficult.”

“Oh, so it’s her. But why are we looking for her?”

Though Wang Lei now knew who they were seeking, he didn’t understand why performing at the Gala required her involvement.

“Simpleton, it’s already the twenty-eighth—everyone’s doing their final dress rehearsal. Think about it: can your song be slotted in at this stage? The program is scheduled down to the second. If you want your song included without affecting others, only this teacher can make it happen. You’d be the finale—what an honor.”

“Brother Zhang, is this really okay? Will she agree to give up her spot?”

“I don’t know. We’ll see when we get there. It all depends on whether your song can move her.”

Wang Lei felt uneasy; it did seem a bit underhanded. Teacher Li was truly one of the symbols of the Gala, and now they were about to take her place. It just didn’t sit right.

Arriving at the rehearsal hall, they found the final stages underway, the programs arranged in sequence. All the performers, great and small, were present; no one dared slack off just because it was a rehearsal. This was the stage of the New Year’s Gala: no matter how famous you were, here you were simply a performer. The show must proceed undisturbed by any outside influences.

Many of the stars knew Old Zhang; quite a few of their albums had been produced in his studio, so greetings were abundant as they walked in.

Hua Lianfeng, holding a walkie-talkie, hurried over. Seeing Old Zhang, he understood immediately—this was one of his people, either close family or a true friend.

“So it’s you, Brother Zhang! You should have called me, I’d have sorted everything out for you.”

“Enough talk, just take us to Teacher Li.”

“Yes, right away.”

Hua Lianfeng was an old Beijing hand; he knew Old Zhang’s background well. Though Old Zhang rarely mingled with their circles, plenty of legends about him circulated within the industry.

Hua led them to a private dressing room, a privilege reserved for veteran artists at the Gala.

“Teacher Li, it’s me, Little Ma. Do you remember me?”

Li Pingyi was seventy-eight this year. By seniority, she was now arguably the most venerable artist in the republic, though she maintained a modest and low-profile lifestyle.

“Ah, it’s you! What brings you here? Did they invite you this year? I haven’t seen you at rehearsals. Don’t bully others just because you have Brother Zhan’s backing.”

In terms of relationship, Ma Pingdong was closer to Teacher Li, as he specialized in national music and had performed alongside her many times.

Li Pingyi always maintained a humble demeanor; she hadn’t missed a single rehearsal since October.

“I’m not performing this year, Teacher Li. We’re here because we need a favor from you.”

“Then say it—if you call it a favor, it must be something serious.”

“Here’s my son-in-law, Mei’s boyfriend. He wrote a song and wants to perform at the Gala, but time is tight. Would you listen to it and give your opinion? If you think it’s suitable, let him perform. If not, I’ll walk away and won’t trouble anyone else.”

Ma Pingdong spoke plainly, knowing there was no need for subterfuge at this point.

But Li Pingyi’s expression changed as she listened—she disliked such requests. Still, since it was Ma Pingdong, she decided to hear him out.

“Let’s listen, then.”

As soon as the elder agreed, Old Zhang promptly began assembling a portable high-fidelity sound system, delivering excellent audio quality.

The arrangement by Old Zhang and Ma Pingdong was masterful; Wang Lei felt it was even more perfect than anything he’d heard in the world he came from, and it carried a distinctly Eastern flavor thanks to Ma Pingdong’s touch.

Wang Lei’s voice was unique; though Li Pingyi was elderly, she was not at all rigid. She was genuinely drawn in by Wang Lei’s voice and song.

When the song reached its climax, Li Pingyi herself became emotional. She had not personally experienced wartime, but her husband had, and this song could move anyone who loved their country.

As the song ended, Li Pingyi even wiped her eyes, thoroughly moved.

“The song is beautiful. After all these years singing ‘Unforgettable Tonight,’ it’s time to step aside. I have only one request: may I sing along with you during the climax?”