No matter what Ye Haitang said, Yang Fan still refused: "I really can't do it, you should find someone else. It's not that I don't want to help, but I really can't handle it."
"Yang Fan, if I say you can do it, then you can. Trust my professional judgment; You don't have to be afraid. Just forget about the tens of thousands of audience members in front of you, and sing as comfortably as you would when you hum to yourself in the countryside. Do it however feels right for you." Ye Haitang, with no other choice, was adamant.
"This... Miss Ye..." Yang Fan was sweating profusely: "I really can't do it, please don't force me."
Seeing how confident and insistent Ye Haitang was, Li Shangfeng felt that this might be a solution that's not really a solution, but he trusted Ye Haitang's judgment. If she said Yang Fan could do it, then he really could.
"Yang Fan, why don't you give it a try!" In a desperate hope for a cure, Li Shangfeng could only treat a dead horse as if it were alive.
