"Three Nights" was Dang Kai's signature piece. Released when he was 35 and had just become the lead vocalist of the Moscow Choir, the album took the Bear Country by storm. So popular that, as the saying goes, you could live off just that one song for a lifetime.
Dang Kai released "Three Nights" in four languages: Chinese, Russian, English, and Spanish. But only the Russian version became a sensation.
🎵 "Three nights, my three goodnights, not one of them reached your ears.
Three nights, my three goodnights, my vision already blurred..." 🎵
Now 51 years old, Dang Kai's voice still retained its signature gravelly texture. No wonder Russian adored him, that voice was truly powerful.
The song tells the story of a sniper who, shortly after getting engaged, was assigned a covert assassination mission. He had to eliminate an enemy officer without being detected. But the target never showed. In the freezing cold, the sniper eventually froze to death.
The melody was short at the beginning and longer at the end, utilizing a special natural mode that often appears in Russia folk music. This blend of natural modes and Phrygian minor created a melancholic tone. That's Russia for you: melancholic and resilient, just like Earth's "Katyusha."
"That's the old Kai I remember. I still recall the first time I heard this song. I couldn't believe the voice belonged to a Chinese man," Li Weiwen said, eyes closed, soaking in the music.
As Dang Kai finished his performance, the applause thundered through the hall.
"Clap clap clap—"
He received a standing ovation. Even at an opera, great singing was always welcome.
From Leipzig came the praise: "His voice is like a birch tree standing tall in a frozen wasteland—enduring the cold but never bending."
To him, only Dang Kai could be considered a worthy rival in this arena. Not because of arrogance, but because of the sheer power behind Kai's voice.
Well, maybe it was a bit of arrogance. Before Dang Kai's performance, even the French guests had only shown mild interest.
"Mr. Kai's voice hasn't changed at all in the past ten years," remarked a Truth Daily reporter from Russia
"A good singer's masterpiece never goes out of style," added a reporter from the World Journal.
"Top-level national vocalists really are monsters. Teacher Dang Kai leaves no room for the younger generation," commented a journalist from China's Bright Times.
It was a perfect opening. As the first performer, Dang Kai smoothly transitioned the audience from the opera-themed first half of the event to the more vocal-focused second half.
"Teacher Dang really gave his all with 'Three Nights.' Bad luck for Brother Jiu," sighed Ma Ban'an. After all, the song still held the record for highest album sales by a Chinese singer in the Bear Country.
"Now this is music. That's what an artist is. Even if the general public back home doesn't know him well, his vocal power is top-tier," An Jiu admitted, finally sobering up.
Then she noticed something—
[Guest Performer: Chu Zhi
Representative Works: "Chapter Seven of the Night", "Backlit"]
"Wait a second, what the hell did I just see?" An Jiu's eyes went wide. Judging by the works listed, there was no doubt—it was Brother Jiu. There was no way someone else would have the same name and repertoire.
Her sharp gaze swept the venue and landed on an iQIYI cameraman setting up for a shoot.
Recording for Journey Among the Stars? Was this some kind of setup?
An Jiu was fuming. She had been a loyal fan since the days of "The Brightest Star in the Night Sky." A ten-year fan!
It wasn't that she didn't believe in her idol's talent, but just look at this place, then look at Dang Kai. This wasn't a stage for pop music. Her idol was bound to be at a disadvantage.
Chu Zhi took the stage. His striking appearance immediately drew every pair of eyes to him.
He looked far too young, which tempered the audience's expectations. Still, no one mocked him. The current atmosphere wouldn't allow for that.
Polite applause broke out—"Clap clap clap"—a gesture of encouragement for the young singer.
It was a kind of gentle reassurance: "Don't worry, Dang Kai's performance was intense, but you just do your best. We won't laugh at you." Like when a model stumbles on the runway and the crowd claps to ease the moment.
Leipzig leaned back in his seat, preparing to listen with a critical ear.
"Chu Zhi?" A Bright Times reporter recognized him instantly. Just days ago, he'd made headlines for rescuing people. The memory of him saving 28 lives was still fresh.
He quickly snapped a few more photos. Many media outlets had tried to schedule interviews, only to be turned down by Chu Zhi's team citing lack of time. Turns out, he really was too busy—he wasn't even in the country.
A rare opportunity. Click. Click. He took more photos.
His actions caught the attention of the Truth Daily reporter from Russia In clumsy English, the man asked, "Is this young singer very good?"
Couldn't risk overhyping him. The Bright Times reporter quickly replied, "He's one of our promising young talents. But of course, no match for Teacher Dang Kai."
Russian reporter nodded and made a mental note. Several young singers from his own country were present. Might as well observe the differences.
"Opera #2," Chu Zhi said, adjusting his microphone.
The intro began with a vibrant violin tremolo, followed by a rhythmic bass line.
🎵 "The house is built, but inside I stand all alone.
 The door slams behind me, autumn winds rattle the windows, sorrowful, weeping just for me." 🎵
From the first few bars, the audience knew: though the title was "Opera #2," this was jazz.
The groove was catchy. More than a few listeners tapped their feet along.
The lyrics matched Russia's taste—full of tragedy.
But for the European reporters, jazz didn't impress much. Europe and America had at least a decade's head start over Asia when it came to jazz.
🎵 "Thunder rumbles through the night, morning fog rolls in.
The sunlight has frozen, ancient sorrows return. Tonight, we gather." 🎵
Chu Zhi lifted the mic slightly and delivered a soaring high note that stunned the hall:
🎵 "Oooh~ aaah—
Oooh~ aaaaaaah!" 🎵
Why had Vitas been suspected of being a castrato? Because he admitted to modeling his early vocals after one.
Chu Zhi, with natural Farinelli-level talent, handled the high notes with ease. Piercing yet not harsh, his voice echoed like a siren's song, burrowing straight into the audience's minds.
What the hell was that? Even higher than a falsetto tenor, Ma Ban'an was visibly startled.
Li Weiwen, the lyrical tenor, was speechless: "???"
Many in the room were vocal experts. They weren't just enjoying the show—they recognized the extraordinary technique.
Leipzig leaned forward again, even more than he had during Dang Kai's performance.
🎵 "The house is built, but I stand alone. The door slams shut behind me.
The autumn wind lashes the window, weeping once more for me.
This is fate, unchangeable." 🎵
The high notes and jazz rhythm intertwined. One could endure hardship with resilience, but this voice could pierce through any gloom.
Everyone in the hall held their breath. The tension was like a roller coaster climbing the final hill. Smooth so far, but they all knew—another sky-piercing note was coming.
Chu Zhi didn't disappoint. "Opera #2" was, after all, a piece meant to show off.
🎵 "All I know is, once I'm gone, the wind will start to cry.
Oooh~ aaah!
Oooh~ aaaaaaah!" 🎵
Another siren-like high note, straight to the soul. No dodging, no filter. Even on the second round, goosebumps erupted.
"Chu Zhi? He's not even a trained opera singer, is he?" the Bright Times reporter murmured.
It wasn't over yet. The jazz melody danced in the air with a flourish, followed by a brief violin solo.
🎵 "La la la, la la la, lalalala~
La la la, la la la, la la." 🎵
The gentle tune, like a lullaby, helped calm the audience's racing hearts.
Chu Zhi picked up the mic stand again and unleashed an even higher note—the high note that shattered the world—
🎵 "Oooh! Aaaaaaah!
Oooh! Aaaaaaah!" 🎵
His voice tore through the hall like a raging storm. The audience was like a tiny boat caught in turbulent seas.
As a spectator, An Jiu had authority to speak: it wasn't just goosebumps. It felt like the sound waves were peeling her scalp back. He was literally blowing the top off their heads...
This young Chinese singer was terrifying.