Chapter 126: The Big Guns Have Arrived

Li Lekang’s team returned to Yanjing quietly after the Spring Festival. There was no fanfare and no official announcements, as none were needed anymore.

His sole focus now was rehearsals. Yanjing, having just emerged from the holiday, was still empty; with workers from all corners of the country gone, the streets felt lonely and desolate. However, the young stars of the National Song and Dance Troupe could not indulge in the holiday spirit. They had to start work early each morning, preparing specifically for the magic performance.

When it came to dance technique, they were professionals—the absolute best in the field. But when it came to magic, Li Lekang was the one who set the ceiling. How could the "ceilings" of two different worlds be fused together? This required ingenuity and experimentation, and they were short on time. The date for the performance was set, and Li Lekang dared not delay it, lest he be torn apart by his fans. Thus, they rehearsed diligently, making every second count.

The city’s vitality slowly recovered, and Li Lekang’s highly anticipated performance was about to begin. On the first Saturday night of early March, the Wukesong Arena, located off the East Fourth Ring Road, was buzzing with excitement. Fans from across the country, and even from around the globe, had gathered there.

As expected, the arena's entrance was packed with long queues. Men and women in various outfits waited in line with palpable excitement, chatting or filming the grand scene. Among the crowd were numerous organized fan groups, mostly energetic young faces. Many had donned Hanfu to echo the night’s theme: "Flying Apsaras." Media personnel who caught wind of the event captured this spectacular sight: so many Hanfu enthusiasts gathered together, chatting and laughing—one might have mistaken it for a Hanfu festival or an anime convention.

Although the night air was biting, the girls wearing strapless dresses had nothing to worry about; there were plenty of "simps" on hand to offer their coats. The goddesses were satisfied, the simps were content, and everyone had a wonderful day.

The security staff, however, were overwhelmed. Even with their vast experience in handling large-scale events, today was not easy—not least because celebrities were arriving through the VIP entrance. CNA had promoted this event, and many prominent domestic stars had been invited to attend, including pop singers, film stars, vocalists, and artists. Their arrival created a headache for the staff, who could not afford a single oversight and had to remain constantly vigilant against fans who might get too excited and cross the security barriers.

The celebrities signed the guest wall with flair. Among them was Liu Qian, the representative of Chinese magic, who had come to observe with a deep professional interest. To the average person, Li Lekang’s magic was inexplicable, akin to a supernatural power; to his fellow magicians, his performances were equally maddening. Such genius, capable of both entertaining the masses and "humiliating" the professionals, was rare indeed. The Berglas Effect—unsolved for fifty years—was the quintessential example of this.

Rumors had also circulated that Jay Chou might attend. His love for magic was well-known; he had written about it in his songs and performed magic tricks on numerous occasions. Li Lekang, who had conquered Western audiences and risen to fame in a white-dominated society, shared many similarities with Jay, who had made Mandopop defeat the "Hallyu" wave and cross borders. Both were top-tier talents in their fields, driven by the desire to prove themselves. The audience was eager to witness the two of them in the same room. If he really showed up, this magic show would truly be a star-studded gala.

Suddenly, a roar of cheers erupted from the nearby spectator stands. The volume rose wave after wave, drawing more eyes. Someone had spotted a figure in a hat and mask—the physique, the temperament, and the gait were exactly those of the man they had been waiting for. He had actually come! Keeping a low profile, he moved quickly under the escort of bodyguards and staff, waving to the crowd in response to the shouts, confirming his identity.

For the many fans born in the 90s, this was an absolute surprise. To witness world-class Chinese-style magic while seeing the king of Mandopop—the weight of this ticket had just doubled. It was worth every penny.

As expected, Jay’s appearance caused a sensation. His signature on the guest wall seemed to glow under the heat of the camera flashes. He remained low-key, however, and after completing the formalities, he was quickly ushered to a front-row VIP seat, triggering another round of cheers from the surrounding crowd. Unlike an open stadium, the Wukesong Arena was compact. The size of the basketball court meant that the front-row seats were exceptionally prominent. Jay was exposed to the focus of the massive crowd, enduring the spotlight alongside his celebrity friends, with pockets of fans occasionally shouting his name.

Before Li Lekang’s performance began, the arena played Jay’s song, "Mr. Magic." Many in the crowd could hum along to the rhythm, and for a fleeting moment, it felt as if they were at his concert. This was a clever touch by Li Lekang, and as a gesture of friendship, he intended to teach Jay a trick later. Li Lekang wasn't always just playing with "real" magic; to disguise it as stage magic, he had to be familiar with the tropes of the craft. Over these past few days, he had mastered a few professional tricks of his own.

Back in the lively arena, songs by the attending guests were played in rotation, interspersed with fan interactions, making the wait for the show anything but boring. The large, multi-faceted screen hanging above the basketball court scanned the crowd, featuring close-ups of celebrity faces and giving screen time to foreign friends who had traveled from afar. Those who had come specifically from abroad were die-hard fans; the cost of their journey far exceeded that of the locals, yet they were undeterred by Li Lekang’s allure.

As time ticked by, the arena gradually filled. The seating, arranged around the basketball court, had a maximum capacity of 18,000. Compared to Li Lekang’s former show in New York, which had 80,000 attendees, the scale was much smaller. He had originally wanted to hold it at the Bird's Nest, but performing "Flying Apsaras" there would be too "magical"—it would be truly difficult to explain away as mere stagecraft. He needed to provide industry insiders with at least a plausible direction for their guesses, so the venue was moved to a basketball arena with a fully enclosed ceiling, where more mechanisms could be installed.

Even at 18,000, the scene was spectacular. Usually, superstars holding concerts here limited the audience to around 10,000, as any more would be difficult to manage. For Li Lekang, a sold-out house was just right. The decision not to sell standing-room tickets was based on safety, yet it still drew complaints from those who couldn't get in. They felt he should have used a larger stadium, like the Workers' Stadium or the Bird's Nest, to satisfy more fans. Li Lekang wanted a grand spectacle too, but for the sake of the performance and the visual impact, he had to consider reality and keep the effects under control.

The seats were now almost full. The production crew was in place, with multi-angle cameras ready to record everything, selecting the best content for the variety show.

In the backstage lounge, Li Lekang was making his final preparations. Compared to his previous performances, he felt a touch of nervousness today. Being in his homeland, where he was held to such high expectations, made him feel the pressure. In America, he could improvise freely, but in China, he wanted everything to be perfect, which only served to tighten his nerves.

"You can pull this off perfectly!"
"Just do it!"

Li Lekang whispered to his reflection in the mirror to boost his morale. Then, an assistant quietly approached and told him, "Sir, you go on stage in one minute!"