Song Yuqi’s sudden Chinese question, filled with burning curiosity, exploded like a precisely thrown flashbang in Liang Yun’s brain.
The peaceful state of mind he had just achieved by immersing himself in music instantly crumbled.
“What are you talking about… anyway, all the online speculation now is nonsense, you absolutely must not believe it!” He stammered, his gaze flickering, talking around the subject.
He completely avoided looking at Song Yuqi’s large eyes, which were practically screaming, “Tell me!” He felt like a thief caught in the act, and what he had stolen was his own pathetic little secret that he didn’t want anyone to know.
Seeing his hesitant and stubbornly silent reaction, Song Yuqi couldn’t help but let out a giggle.
She didn’t press further, but instead patted his shoulder with a knowing look that said, “I understand, I understand, I get it all.”
“Alright, alright, I won’t tease you anymore,” she said with a smile.
“Our leader has something she wants to tell you.”
After speaking, she pulled the other members and tactfully retreated out the door, leaving the small waiting room to the two creators with vastly different auras.
The waiting room instantly fell silent, with only the faint hum of the air conditioner’s vent.
Liang Yun felt even more nervous than when Song Yuqi had just been gossiping.
If Song Yuqi was an irresistible warmth, then Jeon Soyeon was an iceberg with a built-in low-pressure zone; just standing there, she exuded a powerful, unignorable presence.
Today, Jeon Soyeon was wearing a dark gothic outfit specially designed for the ‘Oh my god’ stage.
Her upper body consisted of a black lace corset, covered by a distressed, cropped black suit jacket, revealing her slender waist and well-defined shoulders and neck.
Her lower body was a pair of black leather shorts adorned with metal chains and safety pins, paired with over-the-knee lace-up boots, making her look both sexy and aggressive.
Her signature short hair was meticulously styled, and her strong smoky eye makeup further accentuated her already sharp eyes, making them resemble a poised leopard.
She didn’t speak, but simply took long strides to stand in front of Liang Yun, her gaze falling on the guitar in his arms.
It was an old-looking Martin D-28 with many scratches on its body.
“Your guitar has a very warm tone,” Jeon Soyeonfinally spoke, her voice still cool and uninflected, but her words went straight to the core.
Liang Yun was momentarily stunned, not expecting her to approach from this angle.
He looked down at his old companion, his voice unconsciously relaxing a bit: “Yeah… I’ve used it for many years, the wood has opened up. I brought it from home.”
“I listened to your live performance on the radio last time,” Jeon Soyeon continued, her sharp eyes finally shifting from the guitar to Liang Yun’s face.
“It’s better than the studio version. Your voice, when it simplifies, has more of a story to tell.”
This compliment, for a singer-songwriter, was extremely high praise.
It meant that the other person understood the most subtle expressions in his music.
Liang Yun’s nerves, taut from social anxiety, completely relaxed at this moment.
He felt like he wasn’t facing the leader of a top girl group, but a peer with whom he could pull all-nighters in the studio, arguing endlessly over a single tone.
“Thank you,” he said sincerely.
“Yours too. I listened to your entire album yesterday. The arrangement for ‘Oh my god’ is very bold, using choir elements to build the atmosphere, it’s grand. But personally… I prefer the B-side track ‘Luv U’.” Read the latest chapters at NovelPing.
Jeon Soyeon’s eyebrows subtly arched, clearly surprised.
This was because ‘Luv U’ was a relatively trap and playful song, completely different from her usual strong image and the grand concept of ‘Oh my god’.
“Why?” she asked, with a hint of genuine curiosity in her tone.
“Because the beat of that song is very interesting,” Liang Yun had completely entered “tech geek” mode.
His eyes lit up, and his speaking speed increased.
“The kick drum has a very relaxed tone, but the snare drum sample is very crisp, creating a very elastic rhythmic feel. And your flow in it is also freer than in the title track, with many improvisational syncopations and variations. You can tell that you must have had a lot of fun writing that song.”
Jeon Soyeon listened quietly to his analysis, and a subtle loosening appeared on her usually taut, cool face.
She looked at Liang Yun’s eyes, sparkling as he talked about music, as if she was seeing another version of herself.
In this industry, too many people would praise her talent, her stage presence, but very few could, like the person in front of her, precisely and incisively analyze the most subtle, most personal creative ingenuity and joy she hid in her work.
This was a resonance from the depths of the soul, belonging to creators.
“You’re very perceptive,” she said slowly after a few seconds of silence.
“That song was indeed the most relaxed one I made while producing the entire album. It was like… a reward I wrote for myself.”
She paused, as if making a decision, then pulled out her phone from her pocket and opened the interface of a certain app.
“I’ve been writing a song recently, but I’m stuck,” she handed the phone to Liang Yun.
“I’ve written several versions of the melody for a verse, and I’m not satisfied with any of them. Help me listen to them.”
Liang Yun never expected that the other party would so directly show him her unfinished work.
This was a great trust.
He took the phone, somewhat flattered.
On the screen was the mobile interface of Logic Pro X, with several different colored audio tracks lying quietly there.
He put on his headphones and pressed play.
An exotic, rhythmically strong melody flowed out.
Jeon Soyeon’s signature rap, with a hint of hoarseness and laziness, bounced on the drumbeats.
“This version, the melody line is too flat, it fits the beat very well, but it lacks memorability.”
“In the second version, there’s more melodic fluctuation, but for the sake of rhyme, the pronunciation of a few words sacrificed the fluidity of the flow.”
“The third…”
Liang Yun listened and gave the most direct, objective analysis, completely forgetting who he was facing and that this was in the noisy backstage of a TV station.
In his world, there was only music left.
Jeon Soyeon stood by, quietly listening to his comments, not refuting, but only nodding occasionally.
The problems Liang Yun pointed out were precisely the stumbling blocks she had been struggling with for a long time but couldn’t quite articulate.
“Perhaps…” Liang Yun pondered for a moment, picked up his guitar, “Perhaps you could try putting the accent on the off-beat, using a triplet syncopation to break the current steady rhythm.” This chapter was copied from novelping . com without permission.
As he spoke, he tapped his foot to the beat and reinterpreted the melody on his guitar in his own way.
He didn’t sing, but used the guitar’s arpeggiated chords to simulate the vocal melody’s direction and rhythmic changes.
A brand new version, with a touch of jazz improvisation, was thus born.
Jeon Soyeon’s eyes instantly lit up, astonishingly bright.
That’s it!
That feeling was the “spark” she had been desperately searching for but could never quite grasp!
She looked at the man in front of her, holding his guitar and completely immersed in the world of music, and a strong sense of admiration and excitement, as if meeting a worthy opponent, surged within her.
“KakaoTalk,” she suddenly said.
“Huh?” Liang Yun snapped out of his musical trance, looking bewildered.
“Give me your KakaoTalk ID,” Jeon Soyeon’s tone was not a question, but a statement of fact.
“I’ll send you this song to listen to after I revise it back home.”
Liang Yun, somewhat confused, gave her his ID.
Jeon Soyeon quickly added him as a friend, then put away her phone, her face returning to its cool expression.
“Thanks,” she dropped two words, then turned around decisively, opened the door, and walked out, leaving Liang Yun alone in the waiting room, holding his guitar, utterly bewildered.
What…
just happened?
Why does this sister seem to do whatever she feels like?
Outside the door, Song Yuqi saw her leader come out and immediately sidled up, gossiping: “How was it? What did you talk about? For so long?”
Jeon Soyeon didn’t answer, just looked down at the new contact on her phone, a subtle, almost imperceptible smile playing at the corner of her lips.
“Nothing much, I just feel like I found a treasure,” she whispered.
This unexpected interaction had a profound impact on Liang Yun.
If Ahn Yujin, with her “big dog”-like enthusiasm and mischief, forcibly dragged him out of his social anxiety shell, making him confront this colorful world, then Jeon Soyeon, in a way that resonated with a kindred spirit, gave him the recognition and respect he most needed.
This recognition, more than any number on the charts, more than any praise on the internet, gave him strength.
It made him realize that in this industry, he was not alone.
His talent, his language, was understood by someone.
When he stepped onto the Music Bank stage again, his heart held less tension and fear, and more of an unprecedented frankness and confidence belonging to a musician.
He still sat there quietly, holding his old companion, singing that song about loneliness.
But this time, he knew that his song was not only for the lonely listeners in front of their screens, but also for those like him, walking alone on the path of creation.