Chapter 128: The Drum Tower

Jiang Lili nearly lunged across the table to knock some sense into Feng Zheng, retorting, "What are your ears made of? Zhao Lei’s 'Gulou' is good, I’ll give you that, but it is absolutely inferior to Teacher Huang’s 'Bell and Drum Tower'!"

Wang Peng, possessing a bit more musical discernment, weighed in: "These two songs aren’t in the same league. Leizi’s 'Gulou' is excellent, but compared to Teacher Huang’s 'Bell and Drum Tower,' it still lacks a certain something."

The students around them chimed in, echoing the sentiment that Huang Guolun’s "Bell and Drum Tower" had more depth.

Feng Zheng, stubborn in his preconceived notions, insisted, "Are you guys just sucking up to Teacher Huang? No matter how I listen to it, Zhao Lei’s 'Gulou' is much more ear-catching."

Jiang Lili looked at him with disdain. "Damn! Your musical taste is abysmal. Don't tell anyone you know me from now on."

Unconvinced, Feng Zheng called out to Huang Guolun, "Teacher Huang, do you know how to sing Zhao Lei’s 'Gulou'? Could you perform it for us? Let’s compare and see which 'Gulou' is better!"

A table of guests nearby, who were also fans of Zhao Lei, chimed in: "That’s right, Uncle! Give us a rendition of Leizi’s 'Gulou.' It feels even more fitting for tonight."

Huang Guolun didn't find it embarrassing for his work to be compared with Zhao Lei’s. He himself enjoyed Zhao Lei’s earthy folk style. Changing the chords on his guitar, he prepared to sing Zhao Lei’s "Gulou."

"In that case, I’ll sing a 'Gulou' that fits the mood even better. Those of you who know the lyrics, feel free to sing along."

Huang Guolun was quite adept at building an atmosphere; he led the crowd straight into the song:

...

"I walk beneath the Drum Tower / The road is jammed"

"The sunlight after the rain spills down / People have all come out"

"Persistent / Confused / There are so many literary youths"

"If I get bored / I’ll come here and sit for a while"

...

This version of "Gulou" had a distinctly brighter, faster rhythm than Huang Guolun’s previous "Bell and Drum Tower," something that resonated deeply with the young people. Feng Zheng nodded his head to the beat, itching to join in, but he felt too shy to open his mouth.

The version Huang Guolun sang felt pure from the very first note; it lacked the heavy, polished artifice of a studio recording. Accompanied only by a single guitar, his performance was like a beauty without makeup, carrying a natural, weathered charm that felt more textured than even Zhao Lei’s original. Feng Zheng found it so enjoyable just to listen that he didn't dare sing along, terrified that his voice would smear the face of this "unadorned beauty."

Seeing the eyes of Feng Zheng and the other youths light up at the familiar melody, Huang Guolun used a more open, inviting vocal style to encourage them to join him. Unfortunately, his live performance was so top-tier that once the rhythm kicked in, everyone was too busy savoring his singing to join in.

And so, Huang Guolun continued to sing, alone yet joyful:

...

"I am a silent passerby leaning against the wall, basking in the sun"

"If I feel weary / Let me wake up here alone"

"I stand atop the Drum Tower / All the prosperity has nothing to do with me"

"This is a crowded place / Yet I am very ordinary"

...

He sang that he was ordinary, but his voice was anything but. It seemed to possess a magic, tuning into the frequency of every listener’s heart, creating an experience of profound harmony and pleasure.

However, for natives like Hu Xuefang and Bai Yao who had grown up in the shadow of the Drum Tower, listening to Zhao Lei’s "Gulou" didn't hit the same way as Huang Guolun’s "Bell and Drum Tower" just moments before. Zhao Lei’s song was fitting—perhaps even more so for the evening—but they felt it lacked a certain weight of sedimentation.

This was a common ailment in the current Mandopop scene; compared to the golden age, today’s songs always felt a little undercooked. Whenever a new song hit the mark, it shone like gold, rapidly sweeping across the country. Such songs were incredibly rare in this era.

Looking back at the golden age of Mandopop twenty years ago, a massive number of moving hits were produced every year, far surpassing today’s output in both quality and quantity. It was, in a sense, a tragedy for the industry, yet it served as a prelude to a rebirth. After being stifled for so long, Mandopop was due for a resurgence.

Having heard Huang Guolun sing "Bell and Drum Tower" and now this, Hu Xuefang—whose work gave her a deep understanding of the music industry—felt something profound: after lying dormant like a stagnant pool for years, a new era of masters might finally be breaking through the cocoon. This Teacher Huang was very likely the figure who would lead the way in the future.

His works all carried the aura of classics; in all her years in the industry, she had never seen a master with such a sense of the times. Zhao Lei had been very popular over the last two years, a standout original artist in the mainland, but compared to Huang Guolun, Hu Xuefang felt that Huang was several levels ahead. They weren't even in the same weight class. This wasn't a slight against Zhao Lei; based on the standard of these original works, even if one were to compare him with the legendary Jonathan Lee, they might only stand on equal footing. If one added his effortless, god-like live performance skills, he could outshine Lee in a heartbeat.

The more Hu Xuefang listened, the more she liked it. Why was this uncle’s singing so addictive? It was, of course, because of his god-tier hearing, bolstered by years of deep immersion in musical pedagogy. Every detail of his vocalization carried a magnetic charm that penetrated the soul. He could sing "Two Tigers" and turn it into something heart-warmingly textured, let alone a modern masterpiece like "Gulou."

Zhao Yan had been deeply moved by "Bell and Drum Tower," but she was too busy managing the crowded shop to listen with full focus. She had made a mental note to ask Teacher Huang to sing that time-sedimented song for her alone when she had the chance. Now, hearing him sing Zhao Lei’s "Gulou," she felt like dropping her work to go sit at the table near the small stage just to listen properly. But the money-making opportunity tonight was too precious; her shop relied on these busy nights to keep the business afloat. Dragged down by reality, she continued to serve customers. Still, she lingered by the kitchen door, feet rooted to the spot, intoxicated by the song, waiting until he finished before she could bring herself to move again.

Huang Guolun quickly ignited the atmosphere of the cafe, his performance becoming increasingly infectious. Everyone was pinned to their seats by his rendition of "Gulou"; even those who needed the restroom couldn't bring themselves to leave, determined to finish listening first.

...

"I walk beneath the Drum Tower / A rain-soaked cafe"

"By the sleepless Houhai / The moon is still smoking"

"The drunk / The kissing / The happy ones don't sleep"

"Only I lean against the railing / Saying goodnight to the past"

...

Huang Guolun’s voice grew more and more evocative, as if he were turning the small shop into the only place that existed at the foot of the Drum Tower.

The livestream that Zhao Jing had been monitoring was also becoming increasingly lively.

Thousands of old friends, notified by the system, flooded in to watch. The chat section became exceptionally rowdy, as if everyone who entered felt compelled to chime in immediately. Many were exclaiming or asking questions:

"Where’s Brother Jing? Why is the blind uncle singing again?"

"Show some respect! That’s Teacher Huang!"

"Teacher Huang is singing Leizi’s 'Gulou.' I just heard this song two days ago; it’s amazing. Hearing him sing it as soon as I joined is incredible!"

"Is Brother Jing here? Has this uncle taken over your channel?"

"Is Brother Jing showing his face today? If not, show us your chest instead! We’ll be civil, haha!"

"This 'Gulou' is great! Feels like Teacher Huang has more soul than Leizi!"

"Bullshit! The original is better. This blind uncle is just a copycat."

"Who is this guy? Why isn't Brother Jing in control?"

...

Seeing more and more newcomers making noise, Zhao Jing grew annoyed. She whispered into her headset, "Can you guys just quiet down and listen to the music? You arrived late and missed out—Teacher Huang just sang an original song called 'Bell and Drum Tower' that was way better than this one."

Zhao Jing had decent taste in music; while she loved Zhao Lei’s folk, his version of "Gulou" clearly paled in comparison to Huang Guolun’s "Bell and Drum Tower." She preferred the one that had left her itching for more just a while ago.

Feng Zheng and the others, however, felt that this version of "Gulou" was even more evocative. As the song neared its end, the students finally joined in with excitement:

...

"I am a silent passenger leaning against the window, missing you"

"When the 107 bus passes by again / Time is the tram that takes away our youth"

"I stand by Shichahai / All the sweetness has nothing to do with me"

"This is a crowded place / Yet I am very lonely"

...

For the single boys, singing this song felt like they were singing about their own loneliness and youth; they resonated with it deeply. By the end, every time Huang Guolun sang "I am at the Drum Tower," they would echo it back. The atmosphere in the room became extraordinarily intense!

Seeing everyone responding so actively, Huang Guolun felt wonderful. The feeling of being moved and made happy by music, and being able to share that emotion and joy with others, was, for him, one of the most beautiful feelings in the world.

This atmosphere made him feel that all the hard work he had poured into music over so many years had been worth it—truly, deeply worth it.