I really didn't intend to make a living based on my looks.

Chapter 106 Tickets Sold Out in Eight Seconds

Liu Shishi took the initiative to introduce him: "Brother Long, this is my boyfriend Jiang Chen, you should know him, right?"

Jiang Chen dismounted and extended his hand: "Teacher Wu, it's an honor to meet you. I grew up watching your shows; my mom was a huge fan of you back in the Little Tigers era."

Wu Qilong's face darkened for a moment.

But he's been around for over twenty years, and he still retains his composure.

He reached out and shook hands with Jiang Chen, his grip quite firm.

"Jiang Chen, I know him. I also really enjoyed watching 'Swords of Legends,' his acting was very spirited."

"You flatter me."

Wu Qilong smiled faintly, then abruptly changed the subject: "It's just that there have been rumors in the industry that you and Yang Mi are very close, and everyone thinks you're together."

"Mimi, we really—" Jiang Chen began to speak.

Liu Shishi panicked instantly. Before he could finish speaking, she stepped forward and grabbed Jiang Chen's arm tightly. "Brother Long, don't listen to the rumors! He's my boyfriend, and we've been together for a long time."

Jiang Chen felt a sharp pain suddenly shoot through the inside of his arm. Liu Shishi's fingertips were digging hard into his flesh, and even through the thick riding clothes, the force was still clear and piercing.

hiss----

His expression remained unchanged, but he secretly gasped inwardly: "That's right, we're both rather low-key, so we've never made it public."

Upon hearing this, Wu Qilong glanced lightly at the two men's arms that were touching, but did not reply. His expression was unreadable.

A moment of silence fell, the wind gently rustling the grass at the horse farm, and the atmosphere suddenly became very awkward.

Liu Shishi didn't want to be stuck in this awkward situation any longer, and it seemed more like she was deliberately trying to put their intimacy into the open.

"Jiang Chen, let's go for a ride. You can give me a ride."

Without waiting for Jiang Chen's reply, she grabbed him and left.

Jiang Chen resisted the urge to rub his arm and followed her lead.

"Senior Sister, your pinch hurts!"

"Serves you right, who told you to mention Yang Mi?"

"It's true."

"The truth can't be told either!"

As they talked, the two reached the stable.

The white Arabian horse was still tied to the railing, snorted, and pawed at the ground, as if it was getting impatient.

Liu Shishi reached out and patted the horse's neck, gently shushing it. The horse immediately quieted down.

She turned around, stepped into the stirrup with her left foot, and with a swift and clean movement, flipped herself onto the horse's back.

The whole set of movements was fluid and graceful, with her back straight and her ponytail swinging in an arc behind her.

She sat on her horse, looked down at Jiang Chen, and reached out her hand.

"Come up."

Jiang Chen grabbed her hand, put his feet in the stirrups, and with a forceful flip, sat down behind her.

Space on horseback is limited, and with the two of them positioned one in front of the other, his chest was almost touching her back.

Her body heat emanated through her riding clothes, along with a faint fragrance—not the scent of shampoo, but a light, pleasant natural body odor.

"Hurry up."

Liu Shishi's voice was a little tighter than usual.

"Where should I grab it?"

"saddle."

Jiang Chen reached out and grasped the saddle bridge in front of her.

In some movies and TV dramas, the scene where someone is riding a horse with their arm around the waist is actually quite unprofessional.

Jogging is fine, but running fast is dangerous.

This position caused his body to lean slightly forward, and his chest naturally pressed against her back.

Liu Shishi visibly hunched her shoulders, but she didn't say anything, only gently nudged the horse's belly.

The Arabian horse started to trot along the track outside the sand circle.

The horses' hooves pattered on the sand, making a soft, rhythmic sound.

The wind brushed past her ears, and a few strands of Liu Shishi's high ponytail were blown loose, brushing against Jiang Chen's face and tickling him.

He tilted his head, but there was nowhere to hide.

Your hair is poking me.

"Bear with it."

The horse ran a circle, passing the spot where Wu Qilong was standing.

Liu Shishi kept her eyes straight ahead, her back ramrod straight. Jiang Chen also sat up straight in response, one hand on the saddle and the other naturally resting on Liu Shishi's waist.

Through the riding clothes, the actions weren't exactly intimate, but they were ambiguous enough.

Wu Qilong stood outside the fence, watching the two pass by, his face expressionless.

After a while, he turned around and walked towards the parking lot.

His steps were neither fast nor slow, but his back view exuded an indescribable desolation.

Liu Shishi did not turn around to look at him.

But she could feel that the gaze that had been falling on her back had disappeared.

She slowly pulled on the reins, bringing the horse to a stop, and let out a long breath.

"Gone?"

"I'm gone."

Jiang Chen turned his head and glanced at it.

Liu Shishi's shoulders slumped down, and she leaned against Jiang Chen's chest as if all her strength had been drained.

It only lasted a second, and then she sat up abruptly as if she had been burned.

"Feel sorry."

"fine."

She dismounted, her movements much more hurried than when she mounted, and stumbled as she landed. Jiang Chen reached out to steady her.

After she regained her footing, she withdrew her hand, took a step back, and patted the dust off her riding clothes.

The atmosphere suddenly became quiet.

The sun had already sunk behind the poplar grove, leaving only a deep orange afterglow on the horizon, casting long, long shadows of the two people.

The groom ran over and led the horse away. The sound of hooves gradually faded into the distance, leaving only the two of them in the empty sand enclosure.

Liu Shishi lowered her head and spoke after a long while.

"Thank you for today. I owe you a favor. If you ever need anything in the future, just tell me, and I'll do my best to help."

Jiang Chen stood in front of her, looking at her.

The light of the setting sun fell on her profile, outlining a soft contour.

"No need for later."

Liu Shishi looked up, startled, and asked, "Huh?"

"Come be my guest at my concert on January 18th."

Liu Shishi looked at him but did not answer immediately.

Her lips parted slightly, then closed again.

Several thoughts raced through my mind.

If Lao Cai finds out, will he be so angry that he jumps off a building?

I was already scolded half to death when I visited the Hengdian set last time. If I go on stage as a guest again this time, I'm afraid I'll be nagged about for a month.

but----

She looked at the face in front of her.

I'm reminded of his song again!

"Just grow old, and let loneliness never wake up."

You always have to repay favors you owe.

"it is good."

"But let me tell you, I don't sing well, so don't blame me if I embarrass myself."

"You don't need to sing, just stand on the stage. Keep the atmosphere calm."

"Then what should I do there?"

"Your very presence is a song."

Jiang Chen entered into a busy concert rehearsal.

Every morning we practice our voices, every afternoon we rehearse our dance routines, every evening we rehearse on stage, and every night we revise our plans until the early hours of the morning.

Xu Yiruo said he was like a wound-up machine, and Jiang Chen said that machines don't need to sleep, but he does.

But there's always someone busier than him.

Bai Mengyan.

-

At eight o'clock in the morning, she appeared on time at the front desk of Donglang Industrial Park to answer the phone, receive express deliveries, and pour water for visiting guests.

While eating her lunchbox at noon, she took out her phone and sent three messages in the fan group.

"Sisters, I saw the behind-the-scenes footage of Chen Ge's concert rehearsals, it's absolutely amazing, you all have to see it!"

"Ticketing information will be released in the next couple of days, get ready to go!"

"I love Brother Chen, right now!"

His tone was so enthusiastic, it was like he was on a high.

After finishing get off work at 6 p.m., she changed into sportswear, rode her electric scooter across half of Chaoyang District, and rushed to a dance studio in Wangjing to rehearse as a backup dancer for a concert.

Dancing wasn't her forte, but she studied very hard. While others rested, she would stay in the corner, practicing her moves in front of the mirror, going over and over again until she was covered in sweat.

At 11 p.m., after returning to her rented room and taking a shower with her hair still wet, she turned on her phone and started browsing her fan group.

Check if there are any trolls, posts stirring up trouble, or new fans who need to be appeased.

Then I posted a group announcement: "Sisters, go to sleep early, tomorrow is another day of loving Brother Chen! Goodnight!"

After sending the lock screen, I threw myself into bed and fell asleep within two minutes.

There's no other way; if you're going to be an undercover agent, you have to lead by example and work harder than others!

On January 9th, Jiang Chen Studio's official Weibo account released an announcement, revealing the ticket price scheme for the Chenfeng 2013 FansMeeting.

The poster features a simple table layout with black text on a white background, making it easy to read at a glance.

看台：180元／380元／580元内场：880元／1280元／1680元1月11日上午10点，大麦网準时开票。

This pricing was finalized after several meetings, and it can be considered a combination of "affordable + high-end".

The 180 yuan grandstand ticket covers student fans, making it affordable even for young girls who are still in school.

If you skip a few hot pot meals or buy one less piece of clothing, you can save up and have the money eventually.

The 1680 yuan front row seats in the inner field were reserved for core fans with financial means. This price was standard practice for star concerts at the time, slightly above average, and just right at the upper limit of fans' expectations.

The media response to the announcement was faster than expected.

Is a ticket price of 1680 yuan for a new artist's concert reasonable?

The headline of the entertainment section of a certain portal website.

The article quoted an industry insider as saying, "Jiang Chen currently only has one album and one film/television work, *Gu Jian Qi Tan*, while *Battle of Changsha* has not yet been broadcast. For a newcomer who has been in the industry for less than two years, the highest ticket price for his concert is set at 1680."

This price, at 100 yuan, is approaching the price of tickets for top-tier singers like Jay Chou and Eason Chan. What is the basis for this pricing?

Another report was even more direct, titled "Guest List for Morning Breeze Concert Remains a Mystery; Industry Insiders: They May Not Be Able to Hold Up the Venue."

.

"It is understood that Jiang Chen's 2013 Morning Breeze Tour Concert has not yet announced any guest information. An insider revealed that Jiang Chen has only been in the industry for a short time and has limited connections, so the level of guests he can invite is probably not high."

"An unnamed concert planner stated: 'For a newcomer's first concert, the guest lineup is often the biggest headache. Big names don't want to come, and smaller names don't generate much buzz. If the final guest list only includes a few newcomers from the same company or Weibo influencers, then the concert's value is diminished.'"

The opinions in the comments section are polarized.

Some people say, "Why is it so expensive for a new product?" Others say, "If you think it's too expensive, don't buy it; no one is forcing you." Still others are doing the math: "1680..."

"Seeing a favorite singer is more worthwhile than buying a pair of limited-edition sneakers."

The noise and buzz caused its popularity to soar.

June 10th, 1 PM.

There are eleven hours left until tickets for Jiang Chen's "Morning Breeze" concert go on sale.

Yanjing, an internet company.

Intern Chen Xiaoduo logged into her Damai.cn account on three unused test machines in the company. The screens were lit up, but the countdown page remained motionless.

She set her phone alarm for 9:58 and wrote "going to the toilet" in the message.

Then I sent a WeChat message to my team leader: "I have a stomachache tomorrow morning, please take an hour off."

The team leader didn't reply.

Lujiazui, Shanghai.

In the office of an analyst at a financial company, Zhou Nian placed two laptops side by side on the table, one on Damai.cn and the other on Excel.

The document lists four ID numbers: her own, her mother's, her cousin's, and her ex-boyfriend's.

Although they had broken up, her ex-boyfriend still owed her a favor.

She sent the ticket link to four people, adding the message: "If you manage to snag a ticket, I'll treat you to dinner, Michelin."

A high-end apartment in Hangzhou.

Lin Wei, wearing a silk bathrobe, sat cross-legged on the living room sofa, with a MacBook Pro and an iPhone in front of her.

Her father was on the phone discussing business in the study, while her mother was upstairs applying a face mask.

She wasn't worried about not being able to snag a bargain; her family was rich, extremely rich!

What she was worried about was her position.

First row.

It must be in the first row.

She picked up her phone and sent a message to the scalper: "First row, center, four tickets. Money is no object."

Chengdu, a high school girls' dormitory.

The lights were off, and Li Meng curled up in bed, the blue light from her phone screen illuminating her face.

She turned the volume down to the minimum, opened Damai.cn, and the page froze for two seconds before loading.

She looked at the ticket list again and again.

The cheapest grandstand ticket is 180.

Her mother gave her 300 yuan a month as pocket money, and she saved it for four months, accumulating 1200 yuan.

Buy a ticket for 180, and you'll still have plenty left.

But she wanted to go inside.

She stared at the number 880 for a long time, then exited, opened Alipay, and saw her balance was 1147.

But then she remembered what Jiang Chen had said to his assistant and fans.

In the studio's official fan group, someone forwarded a screenshot of a chat log, which was Jiang Chen's original message that his assistant relayed.

"Brother Chen asked me to say a few words to you: He knows many of you are still in school and don't have much income. When it comes to buying tickets, do what you can afford. Don't argue with your parents over buying tickets, don't borrow money to buy tickets, and don't skimp on food money."

He said that whether you get 180 votes or 1680 votes, you are seeing the same person. Whether your feelings reach him or not, he will receive them.

The group was quiet for about ten seconds, then it exploded.

"How come Brother Chen is so sweet?!"

"I cried. He really treats his fans like human beings, not like韭菜 (a metaphor for being exploited).

"Sisters, listen to Brother Chen, don't force yourself, being 180cm is also a sign of love!"

When Li Meng read this message, her nose tingled with emotion.

She couldn't bear to delete it, so she took a screenshot and saved it in her phone's photo album, in a folder called "What Brother Chen Said".

At that moment, she stared at her Alipay balance and then at the ticket availability, her finger hovering over the screen for a long time.

Then she exited the ticket purchase page, opened her notes app, and wrote two lines.

"Li Meng, you're only a sophomore in high school. You'll have many more opportunities in the future. Buy the 180-square-meter one this time, and save the rest of the money to buy a front-row seat next time."

She locked the screen, put her phone under her pillow, and rolled over. A ticket for 180cm is still a ticket, and love is still love in the stands.

On the same night, in different cities, in different rooms, and from different income levels, everyone was doing the same thing.

Staring at the same countdown, waiting for the same moment.

Some people have prepared their credit cards, some have prepared their colleagues to switch shifts, some have prepared the login status of three devices, and some have prepared to tell their mothers, "I did well on the test, can you reward me with a ticket?"

At 1 a.m., some people in the group were still awake.

Someone posted: "Sisters, remember to come back and give thanks if you manage to snag one tomorrow."

Below that was a row of "Received," "Received," "Received," all neatly arranged, like a line of soldiers waiting for inspection.

July 11nd, 9:50 AM.

Damai's servers began to experience stress.

The tech team stared at the monitor screen, watching the traffic curve climb at a visible speed.

The operations team leader's phone rang; it was his supervisor calling: "Stay calm, don't crash."

10 o'clock exactly.

The ticketing page is now open.

People frantically clicked their mice as they tried to buy tickets; the "Buy Now" button on the page lit up for less than 10 seconds before turning gray.

Eight seconds.

All 10,000 tickets were sold.

Weibo exploded.

"Jiang Chen concert tickets sold out in eight seconds" topped the trending topics list.

The comments are divided into three camps.

Fans went wild: "Ahhh, I got one!"

"Any girls from Chengdu want to team up?"

"Hey, you from Chengdu upstairs, why are you stealing our tickets for Beijing?"

"I didn't get one, sob sob, can someone share one with me?!"

Bystanders exclaimed, "Eight seconds? Really?"

"Who is this person? The one from 'Gu Jian Qi Tan'?"

"Does he sing well?"

Skeptics: "There are definitely scalpers involved."

"The system is faking it."

"This data is so fake."

It was noisy and bustling, just like Chinese New Year.

Yu Zheng jumped out again.

He truly hated Jiang Chen because his beloved Jiang Chen had decided not to renew her contract and leave his company.

It's all Jiang Chen's fault!

He posted a long article on Weibo.

"I heard that tickets for a certain popular young male celebrity's concert sold out in eight seconds, and I laughed."

"I'm not targeting anyone in particular, I just think young people these days are too crazy. Your parents work hard to earn money, not for you to spend on chasing celebrities. How can you have the nerve to set the ticket price at 1680 for a newcomer who's only been in the industry for less than two years, with no notable work and mediocre singing?"

"I urge all young people to be rational when following celebrities and not to waste their parents' hard-earned money on a whim. If you really have that kind of money, wouldn't it be better to buy some books, enroll in a training course, and improve yourself than to be a fan?"

However, it didn't cause much of a ripple.

Time flies.

Rehearsals, dress rehearsals, stage setup, lighting adjustments, band practice—the days turned one by one.

Bai Mengyan works as a receptionist during the day, dances at night, and controls online comments late into the night. She has lost five pounds, but she has more energy than anyone else.

Li Yitong studied in the acting class for nearly a month, and her diction teacher said that she "has made great progress and is very talented."

On miHoYo's side, the test data for "Honkai Impact 3rd" is steadily increasing, and Cai Haoyu sent a message saying, "Come to Shanghai for a drink when you're done with your work."

Yang Mi's WeChat posts are different every day.

Today it's "Little brother, don't overdo the rehearsals," tomorrow it's "The stockings have arrived, do you want to take a look at the styles?" The day after tomorrow it's a voice message; when you open it, she's singing two lines of "Kenshin," completely off-key, and then she bursts out laughing.

Liu Shishi didn't send him many messages, but Jiang Chen knew that she had already asked the "Wind in the Sky" crew for leave on January 18th.

January 17, Yanjing, Workers' Stadium.

The stage was set up, the lighting technician was making final adjustments, and the band was doing their final rehearsal on stage.

Jiang Chen stood in the center of the stage, holding a microphone, looking at the more than 10,000 empty seats in front of him.

Tomorrow, this place will be completely full of people!