Chapter 008: Unmasking the Plot, Tian’s Fury, The Battle Begins!

After advertising himself, Le Xiaotian finally felt a sense of relief.
Although whether he became a singer or a host didn’t really matter—he wasn’t short on money—but it was a matter of temperament. If you’re going to host a program, you must do it well.

He adjusted his emotions and continued taking calls. “Hello, what song would you like to hear tonight?”

Suddenly, a somewhat flamboyant male voice rang out in the channel. “I don’t want to hear a song. I want poetry. Can you do that? Lyrics, compositions, essays, modern poems, anything.”

Le Xiaotian’s face darkened, a sharp glint flashed in his eyes.

If Chen Fang’s suicide attempt was an accident, then this listener was here purely to cause trouble, completely undisguised.

A request for poetry on a song request show? Are you suggesting I sound foolish?

He had only been at Lotus TV for three days. Some hosts were surely displeased with him, but not to the point of playing such tricks.

After all, the rival for “Xiaotian’s Song Request Show” was never meant to be internal. None of them dared to risk going head-to-head at this moment.

So, who was targeting him—or perhaps Lotus TV itself?

Oh, was it the Blue Sky TV from the capital they’d mentioned?

Best not let me find out it’s you, or else, there will be no more Blue Sky in Fama. I’d stake both my stage names—Brother Xiaotian and Ziyang.

After the second caller came through, Director Tang, Li Hongmei, and the others all turned pale.

“How despicable! Director, what should we do?”

“Director, we have a mole in the station!”

“Damn Blue Sky!”

They had just narrowly dodged Chen Fang’s attack, and now came another blow. Director Tang felt a bit flustered inside.

But he quickly made a decisive call. “Quick, signal Xiaotian. Cut off the call immediately.”

Upon hearing this, Li Hongmei, Zhao Dezhu, and the others all felt stifled.

Because although cutting the call was a good solution, no one knew what Blue Sky’s next move would be.

Worse yet, this was a tacit admission of defeat; the show would be ruined.

Meanwhile, listeners across the country were full of questions.

“What? This guy wants poetry? Is he here to make trouble?”

“No way, this show has been advertised for over a year. Who doesn’t know it’s a song request show?”

“Why would he ask for poetry here? Is it accidental, or just malicious?”

While the situation grew chaotic, the broadcast studio flashed a warning light at Le Xiaotian.

He frowned at the flash—what nonsense.

He ignored the message on the screen: “Xiaotian, urgent situation, cut the call now.”

Trying to bully Brother Xiaotian? No way. Absolutely not.

The first episode of the heavyweight “Xiaotian’s Song Request Show” was half an hour long. After the Chen Fang incident, about twenty minutes remained.

He still didn’t know who was behind the attack, but he needed to drag things out while striking back.

As Le Xiaotian’s mind raced, the man on the phone spoke. “What’s wrong? Our Brother Xiaotian can’t compose poetry? If you really can’t, forget it. I won’t blame you.”

Le Xiaotian laughed coldly and launched his counterattack. “Poetry, essays, novels, drama—the four great literary forms, I excel in all. I was merely considering whether you were worthy enough to hear me compose for you. Do you understand?”

Why not cut the call—and why speak so boldly? It was over, Director Tang thought, feeling hopeless.

After a brief pause, the man on the phone laughed. “Ha, how uncultured you are. Have you heard the saying ‘there is no first in literature, no second in martial arts’? Luckily you’re not in the literary world. I can only thank Zizi.”

Le Xiaotian remained calm as if faced with Mount Tai collapsing. “All art and civilization originate from dance. Everything in the universe follows laws, and all laws begin with water. Throughout history, dance, music, song, poetry, lyrics, painting, speech, writing—they were inseparable at first.

The sounds of nature are infinite; onomatopoeia mimics nature’s sounds—a component present in every language. It requires the listener’s ears and mind, subjective perception, and simulation and decoding through one’s own phonetic system. Thus, language is merely an accessory to sound.

Early, in the narrow sense, music was just the melody of language. Through evolution, melody and language separated; tone, pitch, rhythm, and the rise and fall of intonation formed the natural basis from which melody lines are built. Have you heard of the Chinese alphabet song, the rhyme table, and syllables?

To understand their structure and usage, ancestors started with pictographs, then added ideograms, indicators, phonetic compounds, associative compounds, and loan characters—collectively known as the Six Scripts. According to existing records, the evolution of Chinese script is: oracle bone script—bronze script (divided into large and small seal script)—clerical script—regular script—running script—cursive script—printed fonts—computer fonts…”

Stunned. Collective bewilderment. Universal confusion!

Listening to Le Xiaotian’s eloquent and comprehensive explanation of civilization’s three elements, all Lotus TV staff were shocked. Whether or not his words were accurate, Brother Xiaotian was certainly powerful!

With impassioned cadence, after over ten minutes, Le Xiaotian concluded: “So, if you don’t even understand the origins of literature and martial arts, you’re not qualified to speak to me. Want me to write poetry or lyrics? You’re really not worthy. Now, do you understand?”

After a minute of stunned silence, the man on the phone roared, “Stop pretending to be mysterious! Let’s duel in poetry. The Mid-Autumn Festival is coming; let’s use that as our theme. I’ll start: ‘The moon of the fifteenth is fuller on the sixteenth…’”

Le Xiaotian snorted, inwardly lamenting for him. Using the Mid-Autumn Festival as the topic? That’s just asking for disaster.

His gaze sharpened, and he declared domineeringly, “You dare call that poetry? Allow me, as a literary enthusiast, to express my utter disdain. The audience knows right from wrong; when the show ends, the verdict will be clear.”

He slammed the table. “Today, I’ll show you the unity of lyrics, song, and melody!”

With “Prelude to the Water Melody,” the Mid-Autumn Festival has no rival in poetry and lyrics; you’re courting your own defeat!

He pressed the piano keys—his move was a king’s hand. He sang a version adapted from Su Shi’s “Prelude to the Water Melody,” titled “May We Live Long and Share the Moon Together.”

When will the bright moon appear? I raise my cup and ask the sky.
I wonder in those heavenly palaces, what year tonight might be.
I long to ride the wind and return, yet fear the jade towers and terraces, too high and cold.
I dance with my shadow, how unlike life in the mortal world.
Turning through vermilion chambers, lowering silk windows, shining on sleepless ones.
Should there be no regret, why must the moon always be full when we are apart?
People have sorrow and joy, moon waxes and wanes, such things are hard to perfect.
May we live long, and together share the moon’s beauty, a thousand miles apart.

Shocked—every listener across Fama was collectively stunned, bewildered, swept into universal confusion!

Before anyone could recover, the first show ended perfectly.

After leaving the studio, Le Xiaotian’s face was icy. When he reached Director Tang, he could no longer contain his anger.

When he spoke again, his gaze was like a sword drawn, cutting straight to the throat!

His powerful words erupted like flames from a sea of fire, rolling forth!

“Speak. What’s going on? I want an explanation!”