Is this the song that became a sensation?

“I knew it!”
“Luo Zizhen is definitely going to choose the Iron Maidens Girl Group.”
“Right now, only the Iron Maidens Girl Group can take on Su Yunjin.”
“But Su Yunjin is supposed to be the successor to the Yue Ren Song. I think the two of them are probably well matched.”
The moment Luo Zizhen announced Iron Maidens Girl Group would take the stage, the entire livestream exploded.
Even though some viewers didn’t agree with Luo Zizhen’s approach, it was undeniable that, at this moment, even more people were here for the spectacle.
How would Su Yunjin, the successor to Yue Ren Song, respond to the Iron Maidens’ challenge?
The camera panned over. Tan Linfang, Xiang Xiaoxiao, and Zhu Kaixin, seated in the highest row, stood up together. Tan Linfang led, her expression stern but not the least bit nervous.
At the venue, as the trio rose, a wave of cheers erupted from the crowd.
Liang Feiyue, who sat closest to Su Yunjin, couldn’t help but glance at her with concern.
Feeling Liang Feiyue’s gaze, Su Yunjin turned and gave her a gentle smile, then focused her attention on Tan Linfang.
They appeared somewhat older than Su Yunjin, and their steps were steady—unlike some previous groups. Although they were a girl group, their strides were unwavering.
Those other girls, if they were out in the world, might not be able to protect themselves in danger.
But Tan Linfang and her companions were different; it was obvious at a glance they came straight from the fields, brimming with strength.
As Su Yunjin observed, Tan Linfang and the others mounted the stage.
The lights slowly dimmed. The three took their places in a triangle. As the stage lights brightened, a drum appeared at the center between them.
Boom.
Boom-boom.
Boom-boom.
Tan Linfang and her group struck the drum. Though their backs were to the audience, the powerful, compelling rhythm seemed to seize everyone’s attention.
Then, the background music began, a melodious flute weaving in. One sharp, one gentle, merging perfectly—like mountains and rivers rolling on endlessly.
Yet, just as everyone was lost in the prelude, the drums started up again—this time, a rain of rapid beats, like a summer storm.
Erhu, silk strings, winds, xiao—all joined in, a flurry of instruments, yet without chaos.
“Whoa, is this… that viral song?”
“Man, old memories just hit me hard. Isn’t this that classic, voice-shredding hit from back in the day?”
“To take this on—no wonder they’re called the Iron Maidens Girl Group.”
As the intro played, both the audience and contestants, and even the guests—Shao Xinghui, Wang Tao, Luo Zizhen, and Liang Feiyue—all widened their eyes in unison.
In the livestream, some viewers immediately recognized the song.

It was “Mountain, Water, Wind, Moon,” one of the breakout hits from an online singer ten years prior.
The entire piece brought together forty-five different instruments, with ever-changing melodies—complex but never chaotic. But the lyrics were simple, almost casual.
The lyrics read like the muttered soliloquy of a farmer gathering herbs in the mountains—utterly sincere and unadorned.
So, when “Mountain, Water, Wind, Moon” debuted, it swept across the music scene like a tornado, dominating all the charts in the country.
At the time, many top artists were crushed beneath its popularity.
Yet, after its release, almost no one dared to cover it.
In ten years, unless you were one of the iron-lunged top stars, no singer dared touch it.
It wasn’t because they lacked skill—rather, the song demanded a tremendous vocal range, soaring up to B#5!
At first glance, that might not seem remarkable, but scientifically, a typical male’s range spans C1 to C5, while a female’s is C2 to B5.
This song maxed out the range entirely—a testament to its difficulty.
“Hei—hei yo hei—these are the mountains—hei yo hei—”
“Up in the early morning—to work—”
“People—the moon—traveling together—”
As viewers reeled from Tan Linfang’s bold choice, she had already begun to sing on stage.
Her voice was powerful, piercing, as if a blade slicing through the clouds, and in an instant, the whole stage quivered at her high, clear notes.
Her voice, carried by the microphone into every corner, made everyone inhale sharply at the music’s pulse.
“Wow!”
“No wonder they’re the Iron Maidens Girl Group. They actually pulled this off.”
“Incredible, absolutely incredible—no wonder they’re called the Iron Maidens. It’s not just a name.”
“If you ask me, just on this voice alone, Tan Linfang could outshine many professional singers in the industry.”
The bullet chat exploded.
The online audience was in an uproar.
At the venue, Tan Linfang’s powerful opening had the entire crowd cheering.
It was explosive—absolutely explosive.
Both the stage and the atmosphere had been pushed to their limits.
Especially Tan Linfang’s voice—like a mountain spirit soaring at will, making everyone’s scalp tingle.

The camera swung to the judges’ seats. Shao Xinghui couldn’t help but give a thumbs up.
On stage, Tan Linfang’s powerful singing continued.
“The sun rises—rosy clouds fill the sky—”
“Early risers—heading into the mountains—”
“Mountain god, mountain god, you have eyes—let the hardworking people—have a good harvest—”
“Hei lo lo lo… hei lo lo…”
Her two companions joined in harmony, their deep voices giving the illusion of men singing—robust and majestic.
“Hei yo hei yo—”
Within the harmony, Tan Linfang’s voice soared like a phoenix in flight, impossible to ignore.
At this point, the two other girls took up a flute and a xiao from their sides, one on each side accompanying Tan Linfang.
The atmosphere felt as if it had been ignited by a nuclear blast; for a moment, everyone forgot this was a competition, as though they’d been swept into a concert.
Glow sticks lit up.
The world seemed to revolve around Tan Linfang, an energy field radiating wildly outward.
In the darkness, every eye was on Tan Linfang—no one noticed that, at the judges’ table, Su Yunjin’s eyes were bright with surprise.
This was a song she’d improvised all those years ago—ten years had passed, and she hadn’t expected anyone would choose it for a competition stage.
And to perform it so well—these girls must have trained hard.
While Su Yunjin was lost in the music, right at center stage, Tan Linfang began descending as she sang.
“Mountain wind—whoo whoo whoo—”
“Birds—woo woo woo—”
“Water—loo loo loo—”
A series of onomatopoeic lines captured the wind’s liveliness, the birds’ lightness, and the jubilance of running water.
At first listen, it sounded like a mountain herbalist whimsically mimicking the sounds—but anyone trained in vocal music would know that each tone climbed by a half-step, one after another.
It seemed simple, but was in fact fiendishly hard to sing—demanding absolute precision in pitch, tone, and range.
Especially the “birds” passage—those three “woo”s required the singer to reach B5. Tan Linfang came close, but wasn’t quite there yet.
After finishing the first round, Tan Linfang stepped downstage with her microphone and stopped right in front of Su Yunjin.
“Birds—”