The next day.
Upon waking, Lin Yuan looked at the season's rankings and heaved a sigh of relief.
There were no accidents.
It seemed like he was going to come out on top for the first month of the season.
Actually, this was within Lin Yuan's expectations.
If it could be said the twelfth season had the divine battling, then every year's first season was recognized as a free-for-all amongst the weak.
Of the twelve seasons, the simplest one was January!
Unless Maestro made a move, even the Kings and Queens of Singing would find it challenging to threaten Lin Yuan's position.
Lin Yuan was an exception—
Xian Yu's popularity was no less than those Kings and Queens of Singing, his skills were even more substantial, he was the first Masked King of Singing!
Speaking of which.
If he can't take the simplest month of January, then Lin Yuan might as well give up on dreaming about a twelve-time championship.
