I would like to share with you some of the extraordinary experiences I went through during the creation and recording of the album The Son of Light, in the hope that they may offer encouragement and inspiration.

Many people may not know that my music first entered the public eye during the Hong Kong anti–extradition movement. At that time, together with three musician friends, I co-wrote a song in support of the people of Hong Kong. I was the lyricist and singer of the Chinese version, “The Youth Beneath Lion Rock.” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JTpZEHpS40k

Those who listen carefully will likely notice a very large gap between my vocal ability then and now.

I finished writing the lyrics of The Son of Light in late October. The inspiration for this song came from the first three soul communications between Yu 🐟 and Xuyu. https://www.ganjingworld.com/collection/1i704soiusd2nckCZaMdMOq1500p

However, the very next day after I finished the lyrics—after I decided to stand up for Yu 🐟 and to “enter the battle”—I suddenly lost my voice. This was especially devastating, because I had intended to support Yu 🐟 through the power of music. Now my “instrument” had been taken away, or rather temporarily “sealed.” How, then, could I continue this support?

From the perspective of a cultivator, when something like this happens, there are usually two possibilities. One is that this is something I should not be doing, and the divine is stopping or enlightening me in this way. The other is that this matter carries enormous significance and will affect the destinies and futures of many people; therefore, the interference from dark forces is correspondingly great, requiring a cultivator to break through it with firm will and an elevated state of being. I believe most of you already know which conclusion I reached: I believed it was the second.

When Mei Mei sent me the demo after she had composed the music, I cried almost every time I listened to it during the first three listens. Both of us shared a similar feeling: I could hardly believe the lyrics were written by me, and she could hardly believe the melody was written by her. All we could do was be humbly gratitude for the wisdom and inspiration granted to us, allowing us to accomplish what we were meant to do at that moment.

Since I could not sing, I could only create more works. In this way, one song gradually became an entire album. 

Since I could not sing, I turned to talk shows and writing articles instead. To my surprise, I discovered that my interpretations—shared from the perspective of a cultivator—seemed to have an even greater impact than the music itself. Had it not been for Yu 🐟’s situation, had I not lost my voice, I would never have had the opportunity to become so proficient on camera, nor would I have discovered my true role in this event: that of an interpreter. What I am truly sharing with everyone is my way of seeing and understanding things as a Falun Dafa practitioner. In other words, what I share is the vision of a cultivator—whether through music, short videos, or written words.

What was even more remarkable was that during the recording process, I realized I had to use a much more correct vocal method and channel in order to avoid the damaged part of my voice. Being hoarse forced me to let go of all my previous attachments to vocal texture and instead focus entirely on conveying the meaning and message of the song itself. Paradoxically, this allowed me to express emotional depths that I could not even achieve when my voice was healthy. In this sense, the interference of losing my voice became a kind of “training mechanism,” enabling me to improve my vocal technique much more rapidly. When you listen to The Son of Light, you may find it hard to believe that it was recorded while I was hoarse. The old me would never have dared to record under such conditions.

Originally, The Son of Light was meant to be my first release. But because of my voice, I had no choice but to release Wishful Thinking first—it was the only song I could sing at that time. Back then, my voice was even worse than it is now; recording short videos was extremely difficult. When I reached the climax of the song, my voice could barely come out at all. Yet at that moment, in the recording studio, I experienced that familiar sensation I have mentioned before—a sudden urge to cry. 

https://www.ganjingworld.com/zh-TW/news/1i793ipgcen34zQ4COwjIShNY19o1c

I know this feeling well, because it often means that Yu 🐟 is nearby. In my heart, I said to him: I know you loved singing when you were alive, just as I do. I believe you can see my thoughts, and you know what I am doing and why I am doing it. If you are nearby, could you please help me—help me get through this most difficult line, so that I may form a connection with all those who are destined to hear this song?

When I sang that climactic line again, his voice appeared in my mind, and I sang it through together with him. Under such terrible vocal conditions, this was how I managed to complete the climax of Wishful Thinking. 

What I truly wish to share with you is this: no matter what kind of obstacles or hardships you encounter, as long as you search for answers within your own heart and elevate your inner state, you will be able to break through them. In the end, you may come to realize that there is no absolute concept of “good” or “bad” in life. Everything that happens to you exists to elevate your life and help you become a better person. When you face all experiences—whether joyful or painful—with this understanding, they will all become “good,” because they contribute to the fulfillment of your true self.

This is why I believe that Yu 🐟’s current state is very good. All the tragedy and suffering he endured ultimately became the steps leading to the heavenly realm, forging his present glory and radiance.