OBS 075 Heavenly Voice
075 Heavenly Voice
On Friday night, the sports field of Shanghai University of Hong Kong was brightly lit.
The stage was temporarily transformed into a large stage, with huge speakers on both sides, and a red banner that read "2012 Freshman Welcome Party".
The lawn in the middle of the playground was densely packed with freshmen.
Wang Zhe and his classmates waited backstage to go on stage.
Like the other students, Wang Zhe wore a white shirt and black pants and stood in the middle of the line, looking somewhat bored.
These kinds of large choral performances are basically just for filling up the numbers. As long as not many students sing off-key, it's enough to get by with just thirty-odd people standing on stage.
"Next, please enjoy the chorus performance by Class 1 of Architecture—'My Future Is Not a Dream'!"
As the host announced the program, the whole class, led by Yang Fan, lined up and walked onto the stage.
The class meeting the night before last not only decided on the song, but also on the class monitor.
After taking the stage.
The spotlight shone on his face, somewhat blinding. Wang Zhe squinted and saw the sea of heads below the stage.
Suddenly, music started playing.
The students began to speak up:
"Are you like me, bowing your head under the sun, working silently and toiling away, sweating profusely...?"
To accommodate the vocal range of all students, this song was deliberately lowered by two keys. It doesn't sound as high-pitched and passionate as the original, but it also avoids the embarrassment of cracking.
Even so, it was still a challenge for more than thirty people to sing in unison. Some rushed the beat, some were half a beat behind, and some just opened their mouths without making a sound—like Fang Gang standing next to Wang Zhe.
After the song ended, scattered applause rang out from the audience.
This kind of unoriginal program is just going through the motions; the fact that everyone gives it a little applause is already a big favor.
Back in the designated area for their class, Fang Gang loosened his collar and let out a long sigh: "Finally done. This tie was so tight I could barely breathe."
"You should be grateful," Wei Jing complained. "Was that singing on stage just now? It was chanting scriptures! I was afraid you would lead the people next to you astray."
"Go away, that's rap, you just don't know how to appreciate it."
They had just stepped off the stage and returned to their classroom area, and before they could even settle in, the next performance began.
It was a choir from the second class of the architecture department, and the song was "True Hero".
It's another inspirational classic, and it's also the familiar off-key singing and screaming.
"How boring..."
Fang Gang yawned, looked around, and suddenly lowered his voice, saying, "Hey, have you noticed? A few people from our class are missing."
Luo Yueshi pointed towards the exit of the playground: "When we came off the stage just now, I saw Zhang Xiaowei and the others slip away through that gap. I guess they went back to their dorms to play games."
"Damn, so disloyal?" Fang Gang's eyes darted around. "Why don't we slip away too? Nobody's calling names anyway. Sitting here feeding mosquitoes is worse than going back to play some games."
Wei Jing immediately agreed.
He wasn't tall to begin with, and there were several tall people standing in front of him, completely blocking his view.
"Let's go! I can't stand it anymore. This lousy party has nothing to offer except for loud sound."
Wei Jing complained as he prepared to get up.
However, he suddenly froze halfway through.
Wei Jing's eyes widened instantly, staring intently at what was behind Wang Zhe.
"What's wrong? Are you having a cramp?" Fang Gang asked, noticing his strange posture.
Wei Jing didn't speak, but simply stretched out his finger and pointed tremblingly behind Wang Zhe.
Fang Gang and Luo Yueshi looked in the direction he was pointing.
In the crowded throng, there stood a figure that seemed somewhat out of place.
It was a short-haired girl dressed in all black.
She stood quietly behind Wang Zhe, hands in her pockets, her features appearing exceptionally defined and deep in the dim light. Her cool and unique aura created an almost impenetrable barrier within a meter of her.
Wang Zhe was looking down at his phone and didn't notice the strange thing behind him.
Until a voice, tinged with a coolness yet strangely familiar, reached my ears:
"What a coincidence."
Wang Zhe's hand trembled, and he almost dropped his phone.
He turned around abruptly.
"Congratulations... Senior?"
Wang Zhe was somewhat surprised and asked, "What are you doing here?"
Zhu Qi smiled slightly, a smile that carried a hint of nonchalance: "I came to see Xiao Cheng's performance. I was just passing by when I saw your class coming off stage, and I noticed you were here too, so I came over to say hello."
That's a pretty natural excuse...
But Wang Zhe isn't stupid.
How did someone "just happen" to pass by this playground with thousands of students and so many classes? How did they "just happen" to spot him?
He glanced at Wei Jing and Fang Gang beside him. The two of them were staring wide-eyed, their faces showing a look of shock that seemed to say, "Holy crap, Lao Wang, you've hooked up with someone again?"
Wang Zhe looked away, not wanting to beat around the bush with this arrogant senior.
Since she took the initiative to come to me, it means that her project has indeed encountered an insurmountable obstacle, and that she has already humbled herself.
Wang Zhe cut to the chase, his voice low, and asked, "How's your game project going?"
Zhu Qi's smile froze for a moment.
But she quickly adjusted her expression, and instead of answering directly, she pointed towards the stage.
"Xiao Cheng is about to perform. Let's watch her show first and then talk about it."
Wang Zhe looked in the direction she was pointing.
At this moment, the host walked onto the stage with a microphone, his voice noticeably louder, carrying a hint of anticipation:
"Thank you to the School of Architecture for the wonderful choral performance. Next up, according to students who saw the rehearsal, is something to behold! Let's welcome the dance and solo performance, 'Painting Heart,' from Class 1 of the Oil Painting Department of the School of Fine Arts!"
"Draw a heart?"
Wang Zhe raised an eyebrow.
This is a very difficult song; not everyone can hit that dolphin-like high note. Can Su Xiaocheng, with her small frame, handle such a powerful song?
As the announcement ended, the stage lights dimmed.
A few seconds later, a soft blue spotlight came on.
Five girls dressed in long black dresses came out first. They had long hair, were barefoot, and struck graceful poses on the stage.
Although they are majoring in oil painting, these girls do have great figures, and they look particularly graceful under the lights.
The boys in the audience immediately perked up.
Just then, the prelude to the music slowly began.
It was a beautiful and melodious violin tune.
In the center of the stage, a white figure slowly walked onto the stage.
That's Su Xiaocheng.
Today, she has completely shed her usual girlish innocence.
She wore a pristine white dress with a hem that trailed on the ground, almost completely obscuring her feet. Her hair was no longer the swaying ponytail, but instead flowed down in soft waves, adorned with an exquisite floral wreath.
Bathed in the light, she looked like an elf who had stepped out of a painting, pure and inviolable.
"I can't see through it; it's your lost soul..."
Su Xiaocheng picked up the microphone.
The moment the first line of lyrics was sung, the previously noisy playground instantly quieted down.
That voice was so clear and bright.
Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.