"Lin Chen," he finally spoke, his voice low, "you surprised me…very much. The song I gave you was intended…well, to explore your diversity. But what you gave me wasn't diversity, but rather…destruction." He paused, seemingly searching for the right words, "You destroyed the original song's framework, and you also destroyed our judges' expectations. You're proving your existence, proving your unwillingness to compromise, in an almost clumsy way."
"In the commercial system, this kind of destruction is usually not allowed. But," Zhang Zhe's tone shifted, his eyes sharp as an eagle, "art sometimes needs a bit of this kind of destruction. Technically, I can give you a failing grade for your performance today, but in terms of attitude…I have to give you extra points. I will use my judge's privilege to request a review of your online popularity score."
Judge's privilege, review of popularity score!
These words caused an uproar throughout the audience!
Lin Chen stood stunned on the stage, almost unable to believe his ears.
Zhang Zhe's scorecard still wasn't the highest, but it was enough for him to narrowly advance again!
Leaving the stage, Lin Chen felt his steps were unsteady. He hadn't been defeated; instead, he had torn a hole in his path in an almost tragic way.
Backstage, the female contestant he had helped earlier secretly slipped him a note with only two words:
"Thank you."
But more than anything, the other contestants wore increasingly complex and unreadable gazes. They realized that this boy from the deep mountains wasn't as easily manipulated as they had imagined. There was something almost stubborn about him that made them uneasy, even…a little afraid.
In the data game, he might not be able to outmaneuver the behind-the-scenes manipulators.
But singing with his soul, he seemed to…have found his own clumsy yet effective weapon.
The result of advancing was like a stone thrown into stagnant water, creating ripples far beyond Lin Chen's imagination.
Zhang Zhe's act of using his judge privilege to request a review of the online popularity score was itself a strong signal. Although the final vote rankings didn't change drastically, with Lin Chen still hovering in the lower half, the topic of "judge Zhang Zhe speaking up for Lin Chen" quietly gained traction on social media, accompanied by footage of his "disruptive" performance in the third round.
The show's editing direction subtly shifted. Lin Chen, previously almost entirely cut, suddenly had several precious shots in the latest episode's preview and behind-the-scenes footage—his dedication to practicing his clumsy dance alone in the training room late at night, his furrowed brow as he tried to rearrange his guitar, and a close-up of his profile during his impromptu solo on stage, eyes closed and completely absorbed. The editors cleverly crafted him into a tragic hero—hardworking, thoughtful, but misunderstood.
Meanwhile, the previous torrent of negative comments seemed to have subsided considerably. Chen Kai told him that this was a typical public opinion control tactic; when negative voices might trigger public backlash, capital would choose to temporarily withdraw, or even reverse course to garner sympathy.
"They found that they couldn't suppress you by force, so they started trying to 'co-opt' and 'utilize' you." Chen Kai calmly analyzed over the phone, "You are now a topic of discussion and controversial, which is good for the show's ratings. As long as you don't touch their core interests, they don't mind letting you stay for a few more rounds and act as a catalyst for discussion."