Being a gigolo was too much for him, so he had to become a music superstar.

What truly exhausted him was his emotions.

He put so much of his own reality into that song, and after singing it, he felt completely drained.

So last night he almost lost consciousness the moment his head hit the pillow, and didn't even know when Su Nianwei went to bed.

She's no longer there.

The blankets were folded neatly—no, Su Nianwei didn't fold the blankets; that was done by the maid.

Lin Buyi sat up and reached for his phone on the bedside table.

The moment the screen lit up, his eyes narrowed sharply.

WeChat's unread message notifications are overflowing, with the red number showing 99+, and there are multiple chat windows for each message.

The list was flooded with friend requests from strangers—the profile pictures were all over the place, some said they were from XXX agency, some said they were music bloggers looking for collaboration, and many didn't even have any verification information, just a bunch of likes and requests for contact information.

He exited WeChat, opened Weibo, and then froze.

Three of the trending topics on the hot search list were related to him: Lin Buyi, a rising star amateur contestant - fourth place, Xiaochou - eighth place, and a toast to freedom and a toast to death - fifteenth place.

Last night, before he went to sleep, these words were ranked outside the top ten, but when he woke up, they jumped straight into the top ten.

He clicked on Lin Buyi's topic, and the content inside was overwhelming.

There are countless versions of videos secretly filmed by audience members at the scene, with different angles and varying video quality, but the comment sections under each one exploded.

He casually flipped through a few.

"I was just dragged along by my best friend to make up the audience, but when this guy started singing, all the makeup I spent two hours on just came off. Please, please release a digital album, I want to listen to this song on repeat forever."

"Fang Yizhou, with 25 years in the industry, says this is the best song he's ever heard, bar none. Do you know what that means?"

"They used to laugh at him for having only filled in amateurs to make up the numbers, doesn't he feel ashamed now?"

"He's only twenty-one. What was I doing when I was twenty-one? Playing video games in my dorm."

"Did you notice? His clothes are old, the cuffs are worn out. He said he came to participate in the competition for the money. Now I really believe him."

The most liked comment had nearly 80,000 likes, and there were thousands of replies below it. Some people were analyzing the lyrics, some were guessing his background, and some were asking for his social media accounts.

Lin Buyi put his phone down, leaned against the headboard, and stared at the ceiling for a while.

His feelings were complicated.

His past life's experience in the real world taught him that online popularity comes and goes just as quickly.

Those who praise him today might turn around and criticize him tomorrow because of some negative news.

There is no loyalty on the internet.

Moreover—the more traffic, the bigger the tree.

When a tree grows tall, the wind will come.

What he needs least right now is overwhelming attention.

What he needs is to quietly get through each of the remaining rounds of the competition and get that five million.

But now the situation is clearly out of his control.

He got dressed and went downstairs.

Inside the restaurant, Su Nianwei was already seated at the table.

In front of her, besides breakfast—or rather, it was almost lunchtime—there were several sheets of paper covered with various news screenshots and web page content, all about Lin Buyi.

Su Nianwei looked up when she heard footsteps and tapped her chopsticks twice on the table.

"You're famous now."

She said those two words in a very flat tone.

Lin Buyi pulled out a chair and sat down, without replying.

The servant brought over a bowl of millet porridge and two small dishes of side dishes. He picked up his chopsticks and ate a couple of bites.

Su Nianwei pushed her phone in front of him: "From last night until now, at least five talent agencies have contacted you to sign you."

Lin Buyi paused, chewing his food, and asked, "How did you know?"

"Because they contacted Tianhai Entertainment first."

They found out that you were admitted through Tianhai's channels, so they assumed that Tianhai had someone who could help you.

Zhang Yang received over a dozen phone calls this morning.

Su Nianwei picked up her juice glass and took a sip. "Of course, I turned them all down."

Lin Buyi put down his chopsticks and looked at her: "How did you block it?"

"I had Zhang Yang pass on a message saying that you already have a partner and are not accepting contact from other companies."

"But you promised me you wouldn't let anyone know about our relationship."

"Don't worry, I haven't revealed my identity."

Su Nianwei waved her hand. "I just made a brief contact under the name of an anonymous investor. You don't understand the rules of this circle—once people hear that you already have someone backing you, they won't bother you anymore. Nobody wants to offend a sugar daddy whose background they don't know."

Lin Buyi paused for a moment.

He had to admit that Su Nianwei was far more experienced than him in handling such matters.

If he were to deal with the harassment from these brokerage firms, he would most likely be overwhelmed.

"And—" Su Nianwei put down her phone and leaned back in her chair.

The way she looked at him was different than before.

It's no longer that playful, condescending scrutiny—that feeling of "I'm watching my prey" is much less.

Instead, a sense of caution has taken its place.

Lin Buyi also noticed this change, but he didn't show it.

"Did you really write that song yourself?" Su Nianwei asked.

"Yes." Lin Buyi replied without changing his expression.

Su Nianwei stared at him for a few seconds.

Her eyes were sharp, and the judgment characteristic of a businesswoman was at work—she was assessing the credibility of what he said.

But in the end, she just smiled noncommittally.

"Okay."

I won't delve into your affairs.

She picked up her juice glass, took another sip, then put the glass down, her voice suddenly becoming serious: "But I have a word of advice for you."

Lin Buyi looked up at her.

"You're no longer an unknown nobody."

Su Nianwei's tone was completely devoid of mockery. "Once you gain fame, it's not just fans and the media that will be eyeing you. It's also the capital and profit chains within this industry. In this circle, those who get in someone else's way usually don't fare well."

Lin Buyi gently tucked his fingers on the table.

He recalled the information he had overheard backstage before—Chen Jiahao was a promising talent that Tianhai Entertainment had invested heavily in cultivating, and Wang Shaohui wanted to ensure that he would at least make it into the top three.

Lin Buyi, an amateur who was added to the cast, overshadowed Chen Jiahao's popularity even before the show officially aired.

This is tantamount to stepping on someone else's cake.

"Thank you for reminding me," he said earnestly.

Su Nianwei rolled her eyes: "Don't thank me. I just don't want my people to get killed by others, otherwise my investment would have been for nothing."

She stood up and walked upstairs.

As she passed behind Lin Buyi's chair, she patted him on the shoulder.

The movement was quick, stopping as soon as it touched, and the force was much lighter than usual teasing or suppression.

Lin Buyi's shoulders twitched slightly.

He didn't turn around and continued eating his porridge with his head down.