Chapter 24: I Could Do That Too (New Book—Please Support)

Over the following week, "Dissolving Sorrow" grew ever more secure at the top of the Newcomers Chart, leaving the second-place "Yearning for Love" trailing farther behind. The explosive popularity of "Dissolving Sorrow" meant that both the singer, He Luoluo, and the songwriter-composer, Jia Bei, quickly became familiar names to many.

Naturally, art schools across Lu Province paid close attention to this song. It was a frequent topic of discussion on campus forums, message boards, and countless group chats. Music students, in particular, were the most passionate and animated in their debates.

"That damn 'Dissolving Sorrow'—it’s just so damn good," wrote one user.

"I want to know which company He Luoluo is with. Why is there not a single recommendation for 'Dissolving Sorrow' anywhere?" mused another.

The Lu Province Academy of Arts encompasses a variety of schools: Fine Arts, Performing Arts, Music, and more.

At that moment, within a small forum devoted to the Music Academy, the discussion about "Dissolving Sorrow" was at a fever pitch. One particular thread had been pinned to the top, with an endless stream of replies and fervent engagement.

The original poster, using the handle "Happy Little Fire Dragon," had written only a single line, yet it drew countless responses: "Even if you tied up a dog to sing it, 'Dissolving Sorrow' would still be a hit."

He Luoluo nearly smashed his phone when he read this post.

Who are you calling a dog?

Your whole family are dogs.

I have real talent, thank you very much—a legitimate vocal major. Don’t underestimate me.

He Luoluo fumed. Though his best friend's song was indeed remarkable, he himself was no slouch. Handsome and a great singer—these people clearly had no taste... He Luoluo grumbled internally, feeling wronged on his own behalf.

Nevertheless, he kept scrolling through the replies to the thread, since it was the hottest topic at the moment.

"This He Luoluo has something—he started out with top-tier support from a master songwriter. He’s soared straight to the top," read one comment.

"I deeply suspect He Luoluo and Jia Bei have some shady deal going on," wrote another.

Ha! Sharing a pillow together—does that count? He Luoluo curled his lip.

"Songwriting, composition, arrangement—all by this Jia Bei. Must be some big-name creator using a pseudonym!"

"I’m a huge fan of Jia Bei—can’t wait for his next song!"

"Whether a song becomes a hit depends on the composer and lyricist. The singer doesn’t matter at all. If you don’t believe it, just look at He Luoluo."

"Come on, this is nothing. Anyone could do it if given the chance."

"It’s official: He Luoluo is just a tool."

"He Luoluo: What do I need to prepare? Jia Bei: Just bring a mouth."

Ha! If it’s just about having a mouth, why don’t you try it yourself... Fuming, He Luoluo exited the comments section.

He could see right through it now.

The forum’s participants split into two camps: diehard fans of his friend, the composer-lyricist, and the embittered, envious vocal majors.

Envy, pure and simple.

Jealousy, plain as day.

Once he recognized this, He Luoluo’s mood suddenly brightened, and he felt a secret delight.

If it’s so easy, why don’t you try and do it? With this change of perspective, the replies became much more pleasing to read.

Even if they called He Luoluo a mere tool, he could sense the deep envy between the lines... He Luoluo was thoroughly delighted.

It took He Luoluo nearly two hours to finish reading all the replies, silently mocking each one in turn in his mind. Then he opened the official music platform, glancing at "Dissolving Sorrow" crowned at the top, before shifting his eyes downward.

"Yearning for Love" still held second place, but the gap between them was widening ever more.

Just moments ago he’d been all smiles, but upon seeing the name An Chuxia, He Luoluo’s face turned ice-cold.

With a cold snort, he muttered to himself, "Old Li is too soft-hearted. He doesn’t hold grudges against you, but I’m not him. I won’t be so forgiving."

He Luoluo still remembered how, after his best friend lost his voice, he became a shell of himself, drifting through life like the walking dead. Especially after transferring into the composition department, the once outgoing and cheerful Li He had become withdrawn and silent.

Soon after, An Chuxia returned unexpectedly from outside and, without warning, broke up with him.

That night, deep into the darkness, with the rain pouring down, Li He was unnaturally calm—not crying, not raging—so much so that He Luoluo stayed by his side, not daring to leave for a whole week.

In that moment, it was as if Li He had lost the entire world: his father, his dreams, his girlfriend—all gone.

He Luoluo practiced singing so relentlessly for one reason: to defeat An Chuxia.

Fortunately, he succeeded.

Shutting off his phone, He Luoluo felt once again a surge of happiness.

"Mission accomplished!"

Unlike the elated He Luoluo, Li He was deeply troubled. Without the truncated version of "Dissolving Sorrow," his supply of negative emotions had suddenly dwindled. He’d released it too soon. "Battle Through the Heavens" wasn’t even at the part where side characters start dying—the fun was already half gone.

As April drew to a close, the competition on the charts grew fiercer. Many who had previously lagged behind began to make a push, each imagining themselves a dark horse.

Some entertainment companies, however, were enjoying themselves.

At Lazy Culture, Liu Xin, head of the newcomers’ department, was beaming from ear to ear.

"Brilliant Entertainment really got their ass handed to them this time," Liu Xin gloated, gazing at the newcomers’ chart.

At Pioneer Entertainment, their artists had only been spectators at the Golden Star Awards in March. For all of April, the managers at Pioneer had been walking on eggshells, afraid to anger their bosses.

But that day, chief manager Zhao Wei strolled into the company with a broad grin.

At Tangren Culture, the head of the singers’ department, Liu Hui, unexpectedly treated the company’s artists to coffee.

In stark contrast, the atmosphere at Brilliant Entertainment was stifling.

From the end of the month onward, even casual greetings between colleagues in various departments grew quieter—especially in the music-related divisions.

The main reason was that, in recent years, all the newcomers launched by Brilliant Entertainment had performed poorly, leaving upper management dissatisfied for quite some time. The boss had blown up more than once because of it.

As a result, Brilliant placed greater and greater emphasis on training and promoting new talent. After finally recruiting a promising newcomer and training her for a year in-house, they lavished her with resources, preparing for a grand debut—only to have her thunder stolen by an independent artist at the last moment.

The entire upper management was furious.

An Chuxia was the most talented newcomer singer Brilliant had seen in years. With the right packaging, she was sure to become a star.

Now, as the main protagonist, An Chuxia had locked herself in the recording studio since morning, sitting on the floor with eyes tightly closed, her neat short hair in disarray.

She had cut herself off from the world—not checking her phone, not going online, not daring even to look at the newcomers’ chart.

An Chuxia knew her perfect debut had been ruined.

Almost all the attention in April had been sucked away by "Dissolving Sorrow," leaving it unrivaled in the spotlight. She still had some exposure, some buzz, but it was only temporary.

The public would soon forget that in April, there was a singer named An Chuxia who sang "Yearning for Love." All they would remember was "Dissolving Sorrow," the song that tormented them for days on end, released that April.

An Chuxia was afraid—afraid the company would abandon her, as was so often the case in the entertainment industry.

Value and resources always went hand in hand. Newcomers with no value were discarded without a second thought—nothing unusual in this world.

The previous batch of newcomer singers at Brilliant had all met the same fate. The company wouldn’t freeze them out entirely, but without resource support, they could only linger in the shadows, barely surviving.

Not everyone could be a He Luoluo; first, you needed your own Jia Bei.

At that moment—

Knock, knock, knock...

The sound of Deng Xuli, her manager, knocking on the door rang out. Today, the knocks seemed especially harsh, dragging An Chuxia abruptly out of her isolation.

"Let the judgment come..." she whispered.

An Chuxia opened her tightly shut eyes and stood up, taking a deep breath before opening the studio door.

Xu Li’s furrowed brow relaxed—she had been worried An Chuxia might do something foolish.

"Sister Qin," An Chuxia said in a small voice, her short hair disheveled, lips pressed tight.

She was ready for judgment, for the company’s decision to abandon her.

Xu Li, in her forties, looked at her with deep sympathy. She had seen this look many times—new singers, full of fighting spirit, charging onto the newcomer charts like fearless calves, only to be utterly crushed and abandoned by the company, losing all support.

Their expressions were always just like An Chuxia’s now.

"The company has decided..." Xu Li took An Chuxia’s soft hand, her face breaking into a smile.

An Chuxia looked up sharply, her eyes void of hope.

At last.

It was coming.