Why would Peninsula want to date a lazy dog ​​like me?

Under the dim light, Wei Wu paced back and forth in the narrow space like a restless, trapped beast.

Several empty cans of cheap beer were scattered on the floor, along with a blue folder with slightly curled edges from being flipped through.

"Twenty million...twenty million!"

Wei Wu stopped and stared intently at the logo on the folder, muttering to himself.

Right now, two little figures are fighting fiercely in his head. One is dressed in a golden robe like the God of Wealth, waving banknotes and shouting, "Sign it! You're an idiot if you don't!"

Another person, dressed in heavy riot gear and holding a shield, frantically called the police, shouting, "It's a scam! It's definitely a scam! How could capitalists be so kind!"

Wei Wu's greatest fear in life was trouble. In his mind, such contracts that were "high-paying, low-maintenance, and kept out of the public eye" often meant that a huge vortex was lurking behind them, capable of swallowing him whole.

He sat back down in the creaky secondhand chair and opened WeChat.

[Wei Wu]: (file.pdf)

[Wei Wu]: Old Zhang, are you asleep? Do me a favor, get those big shots from your law school to take a look at this contract. See if there are any hidden traps like "Party B must sacrifice their soul" or "Party B's final interpretation right belongs to Party A."

Lao Zhang was his roommate at the Shanghai Conservatory of Music. He was a typical big, strong man from Northeast China, and now he was doing very well in Shanghai.

A reply came in less than ten minutes.

[Old Zhang]: Holy crap! Boss Cao (this is a nickname his roommates gave him based on the name of Wei Wu), you've struck it rich? Starship Entertainment?

[Old Zhang]: Wait a minute, I'll send it to our junior classmates in the legal aid group right away. These guys love studying these kinds of transnational contract disputes, they'll definitely find out everything about you.

After sending the message, Wei Wu still felt uneasy. He looked at the window, which was only half exposed above the ground, and at the ankles of the occasional passersby. A sense of insecurity welled up inside him like a tide.

He is a musical genius, a fact he himself knows, and so do his teachers at the Shanghai Conservatory of Music. His perfect pitch and keen intuition for arrangement have been described as "a gift from heaven."

But he hated that stage.

His current state of being a "salted fish" (a derogatory term for someone who is lazy or unambitious) is not innate, but rather a consequence of the almost absurd farce that happened during his freshman year of college.

Back then, he was also full of youthful vigor. In order to pursue a girl from the next class who had a beautiful smile, he stayed up for three nights in a row to write a love song with sincere emotions and a beautiful melody.

He had intended to sing to her quietly in the music room, but one of her roommates, for the sake of so-called "traffic" and "pranks," secretly recorded a video of him awkwardly playing and singing in the music room, added a highly sarcastic caption, and posted it on the campus website:

"Shocking! A certain talented student from the Shanghai Conservatory of Music thinks he's the male lead in an idol drama, and thinks he can win over our college's most beautiful girl just by writing a song? This toad-like lust for swan meat is just too typical! [Video attached: A heartfelt performance with a blushing face]"

That night, the video went viral. The comments section was filled with jarring words like "ordinary guy," "self-indulgent," and "cheap romance of an art student."

From then on, Wei Wu thought he would be safe as long as he didn't touch music.

But now, 20 million won has landed squarely on his head.

……

The next morning, Wei Wu, for the first time ever, asked the convenience store manager, who had a receding hairline, for leave.

He changed into what he considered his most presentable outfit—which was actually just a wrinkle-free black shirt—and then, clutching the contract, went to a law firm in Seocho-gu, Seoul.

He spent most of his month's salary to book an appointment with a senior lawyer who specializes in handling contracts.

"Mr. Wei, I have already reviewed this contract."

The nearly fifty-year-old South Korean lawyer adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and said calmly, "To be honest, contracts with these terms are indeed rare in the industry. The client has almost relinquished all control over the contractor, only demanding high-quality work and absolute anonymity. While 20 million won is a high price, in the 'buyout' outsourcing market, it's not impossible if the work is truly top-notch."

Wei Wu leaned forward, his usually deadpan eyes now showing an unprecedented seriousness: "Lawyer, are you sure there aren't any hidden traps? Like some kind of concealed debt, or a penalty trap for breach of contract?"

The lawyer smiled and turned to the last page: "The penalty for breach of contract is indeed high, 500 million won. But the conditions for triggering the breach are very clear: first, leaking the audio source; second, failing to deliver on time. As long as you work honestly and don't sell the master tapes to a second company, this contract is purely a labor contract for you."

"Even..." The lawyer paused, giving Wei Wu a complicated look, "Party A proactively offered the right to use an S-level recording studio in the supplementary terms, which to some extent protects Party B. This means you don't need to bear the high equipment rental costs yourself."

When I came out of the office, the sunlight was a bit dazzling.

Wei Wu squatted on the curb, holding the "advice on signing" provided by the lawyer, feeling even more conflicted.

Damn it, the biggest problem is that there's no problem!

He always felt that the way Zhang Yuanying, that little brat, looked at him wasn't like she was looking at a producer, but more like she was looking at a beautifully crafted... braised pork?

Just then, my phone rang. It was a video call from Lao Zhang.

"Boss Cao! Finished reading it!" Old Zhang shouted loudly on the other end of the line. "My junior from junior school said this contract is amazing! The client is treating you like some reclusive deity. Everything's included except for the lack of official status. He even suspects the company might be involved in money laundering, otherwise why would they be so polite to the contractor?"

Wei Wu sighed, "Old Zhang, I'm still a bit uneasy. Do you think I should just go back to China? This money is too hot to handle."

"Scalding my hand, my foot!" Old Zhang's eyes widened on the other end of the screen. "Wei Wu, have you gone mad from standing in that convenience store? Twenty million won! How many boxes of instant noodles would you have to buy to earn that much? Where did your arrogance go?"

"I have a trauma, you know that," Wei Wu replied sullenly.

"Fuck your mother!" Old Zhang spat. "Who was it that dragged you to the track to run and exercise every day? It was me! Let me tell you, running away won't help. And this time, you don't even need to go on stage, you don't need to show your face. You can hide in the recording studio, close the door, and who will know that it was you, Wei Wu, who wrote it? You're just a sound system repairman, a post-production guy, what are you afraid of!"

Old Zhang's words were like a heavy hammer, slamming down on Wei Wu's thick, smeared skin.

"No need to go on stage...no need to show your face..."

Wei Wu repeated these two sentences, his eyes gradually becoming clearer.

That makes sense! He's just a behind-the-scenes contractor.

In that building, he was just a transparent person wearing a mask, holding a pass, and working silently.

Take the money, do the work, and leave.

Isn't this exactly what he's been pursuing: "efficient work"?

Why turn down money? With these 20 million, he could not only buy the second-hand equipment he had been eyeing for so long, but he could even move out of that dark and damp basement and rent a proper single room with a window!

"Damn, let's do it!"

Wei Wu suddenly stood up, dusted himself off, and the burning desire for money in his eyes burned brightly once more.

He picked up his phone and sent Zhang Yuanying a Kakao message.

[Wei Wu]: Zhang Yuanying, I've reviewed the contract. The details are fine, and I'm ready to sign it anytime.

Sent successfully.

Wei Wu put away his phone and strode towards the convenience store.

He's going to resign.

……

Zhang Yuanying's phone screen lit up, and after seeing Wei Wu's message, a very subtle smile appeared on her lips.

"They've taken the bait."

She picked up a napkin and gently wiped her mouth, then looked at Zhang Zhenying sitting opposite her.

Zhang Zhenying was unusually quiet today. Ever since last night's near-breakdown confrontation, she had been looking at Zhang Yuanying with a deep sense of wariness.

"Unnie," Zhang Yuanying said sweetly, as if she weren't the one whose wrist had been grabbed last night, "Teacher Wei has agreed to sign the contract. He'll be reporting to Starship tomorrow. I'll personally take him to the recording studio."

Zhang Zhenying tightened her grip on the knife and fork.

"...You're taking him?" Zhang Zhenying's voice was low, tinged with suppressed madness. "Yuanying, aren't you being too nosy? Can't Starship staff take him?"

Zhang Yuanying put down her knife and fork, rested her chin on her hands, and her big eyes sparkled with an innocent light.

"How can that be? Teacher Wei is a genius I personally 'begged' for."

Looking at her sister's expression, which looked like she was about to explode, she felt a surge of pleasure.

"Unnie, don't worry, I will take good care of him for you."

Zhang Yuanying deliberately emphasized the word "take care of".

She no longer cared about her sister's suspicions. The contract had been signed, and Wei Wu had already stepped into the trap she had laid.

In this labyrinth built of power and money, Wei Wu, a greedy yet insecure prey, was destined to become nothing more than her exclusive toy.

……

The next day at 3 PM.

Wei Wu stood in front of the magnificent office building of Starship Entertainment.

He wore a black baseball cap and a mask pulled up high, almost covering most of his face. He carried a faded canvas bag on his back, containing his headphones and some basic toiletries—he was prepared to stay up all night in the recording studio.

"call--"

He took a deep breath and stepped into the revolving door.

The lobby was well-air-conditioned and decorated in a very modern style. The walls were covered with posters of Starship artists, with Zhang Yuanying's huge solo poster hanging in the most conspicuous position, facing everyone who entered.

The girl in the poster has a bright smile and innocent eyes, as if she were the embodiment of the most beautiful thing in the world.

Wei Wu glanced at the poster and muttered to himself, "May the Goddess of Wealth protect me and keep things from going wrong for the next two weeks."

"Teacher Wei, your punctuality is astonishing."

A cheerful voice came from the side.

Wei Wu turned his head and saw Zhang Yuanying standing at the elevator entrance waving at him. Today she was wearing a loose sweatshirt and tight yoga pants, looking energetic and completely different from the oppressive atmosphere in the Zhang family study.

"Since you've taken the money, of course you have to be on time." Wei Wu's voice sounded somewhat stiff from inside his mask. "Where's the recording studio? Lead the way."

Without saying a word, Zhang Yuanying swiped her card and pressed the button for the basement level.

The elevator slowly descended.

In the cramped space, Wei Wu could smell the faint scent of perfume emanating from Zhang Yuanying, which smelled like some expensive flowers. He instinctively shrank into the corner, trying to keep his distance as much as possible.

Zhang Yuanying looked at Wei Wu's avoidance expression in the elevator mirror and a hint of mockery flashed in her eyes.

"Mr. Wei, the basement is the company's core area. Aside from designated producers and cleaning staff, very few people come down here." As the elevator doors opened, Zhang Yuanying introduced, "This recording studio is specially prepared for you. Your fingerprint has already been registered on the keypad. For the next two weeks, this will be your private territory."

She walked to a heavy, soundproof door and gestured for Wei Wu to come forward and swipe his fingerprint.

"Click".

The door opened.

Wei Wu walked in and was instantly stunned by the scene before him.

That was the top-notch work environment he had always dreamed of.

"Hold……"

Wei Wu couldn't help but swear. He strode to the mixing console, his fingers trembling as he touched the intricate knobs.

The feeling is like an old lecher falling into the bath of a stunningly beautiful woman.

"Teacher Wei, are you satisfied?" Zhang Yuanying stood at the door, looking at Wei Wu's infatuated expression, and asked in a leisurely tone.

"Satisfied! Absolutely fucking satisfied!" Wei Wu shouted without turning his head. "You can leave now. Leave the rest to me."

Zhang Yuanying did not leave. She slammed the heavy soundproof door shut with a loud bang.

Wei Wu turned around sharply, his brows furrowing slightly: "Is there anything else?"

Zhang Yuanying slowly walked towards him, stopping only half a meter away. She looked up at Wei Wu's eyes, hidden in the shadow of his baseball cap, and a dangerous smile curved her lips.

"Teacher Wei, there's a confidentiality agreement in the contract, do you remember?"

"Remember, you're not allowed to leak the audio source, and you're not allowed to reveal any details of the collaboration." Wei Wu said somewhat impatiently, "I have a very good memory."

No, that's not what I meant.

Zhang Yuanying reached out, her fingertips lightly tracing the edge of the mixing console before finally resting on the back of Wei Wu's hand.

"I mean... whatever you see here, hear here, or... whatever happened between us, you have to keep it a secret. Otherwise, that 500 million won penalty will be something you'll never be able to pay back in your lifetime."

Wei Wu's heart skipped a beat.

Looking into Zhang Yuanying's unfathomable eyes, he suddenly realized that he might have been oversimplifying things.

Those twenty million are indeed not so easy to obtain.

But then he glanced at the million-dollar mixing console in front of him, and thought about the amount that was about to be deposited into his bank account.

He gritted his teeth and said coldly, "Do whatever you want as long as you don't let me perform on stage."

Zhang Yuanying let out a silvery laugh.

"Teacher Wei, you are so interesting."

She turned around and walked towards the door.

"Well then, have a pleasant day at work, my...producer."

The door closed again.

Wei Wu slumped into the ergonomic chair that cost several thousand dollars, looked at the empty recording studio, and let out a long sigh. He took off his mask, revealing his slightly pale but angular face.

Wei Wu closed his eyes and his fingers began to dance rapidly on the mixing console.

"I'll risk it all for the money."

……

Zhang Yuanying leaned against the heavy soundproof door, her eyes gradually becoming fiery and crazed.

"Unnie, look," she murmured softly at the empty corridor, "your genius is now locked in a cage by me."

"And the key is in my hands."