Chapter 75: You Can't Defeat Me, Can You?

After Li He updated his DouShou video, he elevated the metaphysics debate to a new level. The online community grew even more enthusiastic, which in turn boosted the download numbers of He Xi’er and An Chuxia’s new songs.

As time went on, the downloads for “Fate Is a Bridge” continued to climb, securing its place at the top of July’s trending charts. Thanks to the surge in metaphysical discussion, “Embrace” also saw steady growth, nearly claiming the second spot.

Li He resumed his leisurely office life. The job of a lyricist-composer was easy—just produce one lyric or melody per month as required by the company. The rest of the time, as long as he didn’t disturb others, he could slack off without issue. After all, Li He was a man who wrote classics.

One afternoon, as Li He finished idling away his workday and prepared to leave, Old Qin rushed in from outside.

Li He asked with curiosity, “What’s going on?”

“You haven’t checked Weibo?” Old Qin was surprised, then recalled Li He didn’t have Weibo, and explained, “Do you know Ding Zhong?”

Li He shook his head. “Never heard of him.”

Old Qin took a sip of water and said, “Both songs An Chuxia sang since her debut were written by Ding Zhong.”

“And both of her songs have been crushed by your compositions. Of course, it’s just that her songs weren’t good enough.”

“A few days ago, your DouShou short video was twisted by Ding Zhong. He made an issue out of it.”

Li He frowned slightly. He understood what Old Qin implied.

Ding Zhong was provoking him.

Old Qin continued, “He posted a long rant on Weibo, basically saying he wants a song duel with you.”

“A song duel?” Li He didn’t quite understand. “What’s that?”

Song duels were a unique form of contest among lyricists and composers. Li He hadn’t been in Shengshi Music long enough to fully integrate into the industry, so he wasn’t familiar with its conventions.

Old Qin explained, “A song duel is how lyricists and composers compete. Different singers perform your respective songs, and whoever ranks higher on the charts wins.”

Li He pondered for a dozen seconds, then asked, “But Ding Zhong only writes lyrics. Does he compose too?”

Are there really others as versatile as myself? Li He mused internally.

“Ding Zhong doesn’t compose. He only writes lyrics. A composer will set his lyrics to music, and then a singer will perform it,” Old Qin clarified.

After hearing this, Li He was puzzled. “What if the supporting composer is a ‘Song Master’? Or if the singer is a ‘King of Songs’? There are too many loopholes.”

A Level 1 composer and a Song Master are worlds apart. Different singers bring vastly different popularity. A great song given to a mediocre singer could be ruined, while a so-so song performed by a top vocalist might still shine.

There are too many variables in a song duel, Li He thought.

Seeing Li He’s confusion, Old Qin explained further, “Usually, Song Masters, Lyric Masters, Kings and Queens of Songs don’t participate in these duels unless someone of equal stature appears on the other side.”

That last explanation hinted that Splendor Entertainment might break the rules and send out a Song Master or a King of Songs.

“That wouldn’t be good for their reputation,” Li He said, perplexed.

To deal with a newcomer Level 3 composer, to have a Song Master personally step in—even if they win, it’s nothing to boast about.

“It’s just bullying. Winning is expected.”

“No one outside knows you've signed with Shengshi,” Old Qin scoffed. “In Splendor’s eyes, dealing with an independent composer without company backing isn’t risky; they’re not afraid of public backlash. They can distort the facts and control the narrative.”

“What?” Li He was startled.

He’d always known companies controlled most of the industry’s publicity resources, but he hadn’t realized they could influence public opinion so thoroughly.

On reflection, it made sense. Without Shengshi’s backing, his voice would barely be heard. As for platforms like DouShou or Weibo, Splendor had dozens of ways to temporarily suspend his accounts.

Within reasonable limits, even the official music bodies wouldn’t interfere.

Li He asked calmly, “What does the company say?”

Old Qin was surprised by Li He’s composure. When he first heard the news, he nearly blew a fuse, cursing Ding Zhong’s shamelessness.

How could Li He react so indifferently?

“The company’s stance: no more hiding your identity—face them head-on,” Old Qin declared, his tone passionate, as if preparing for battle.

So bold. I like it, Li He thought, settling into his chair and pondering.

Old Qin saw nothing unusual. A newcomer needed time to process such things. He didn’t push, simply waited for Li He’s response.

Li He was annoyed.

I’m just earning some negative emotion points—is it any of your business?

He muttered inwardly, “System, I want a custom song.”

The system’s emotionless electronic voice sounded: [Please state your requirements.]

Li He was blunt. “Make a song guaranteed to infuriate Ding Zhong—make him cough blood.”

Quality didn’t matter, as long as Ding Zhong was driven to rage. He wouldn’t use this song for the duel; it was just his personal response.

Li He guessed the company would use his “Ten Years” for the contest, helping Han Feng ascend to the King of Songs.

[Searching for song that meets requirements…]

[Song search in progress…]

[Ding!]

[Custom song completed…]

[Song “You Can’t Beat Me, Can You?” has been stored in the warehouse.]

[100,001 negative emotion points spent.]

Li He didn’t bother checking the points spent; otherwise, he’d start cursing. He retrieved the song directly.

“Old Qin, I wrote a new song,” Li He said, looking up.

Old Qin was baffled. With everything going on, how did Li He have the mood to write a song?

Before Old Qin could react, Li He pulled a blank sheet from his folder and began writing.

Old Qin stood there, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu.

It didn’t take long. Li He finished the lyrics and melody, handed them to Old Qin, and said, “I’ll sing this one myself.”

Old Qin took the sheet and read it. After a few lines, his expression changed; he nearly burst out laughing.

“This isn’t very nice. Ding Zhong is your senior, and he’s not young.” Old Qin tried to hold back his laughter.

Li He was ruthless.

Once released, this song would probably give Ding Zhong a heart attack.

Old Qin had initially thought Ding Zhong was shameless, but after reading Li He’s new lyrics, he started worrying for Ding Zhong.

What if he really coughed up blood?

That would be tragic.

Why provoke anyone else, of all people, but the supremely talented Jia Bei… Old Qin was delighted, grinning as he left with the sheet.

He was off to report this good news to Zhang Yang, who was still fuming in the office.

Li He thought, I wasn’t targeting Ding Zhong—I just felt inspired by my gaming prowess… He already had the press release planned.

After Old Qin left, Li He remembered the negative emotion points.

He reopened the system panel, saw the points deduction, and his face turned green.

“Why the ‘01’? Custom songs cost more than lottery ones?”

Infuriating.

At that moment, Li He’s anger, which had just subsided, flared up again.

“It’s all Ding Zhong’s fault.”

Li He was certain.

Without Ding Zhong, he wouldn’t have commissioned the song. Those negative emotion points were meant for dealing with scoundrels, and now they’d been used.

It was all Ding Zhong’s fault.

——

PS: Posted first, will revise later