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

Zhang Yang is the senior vice president of Tianhai. The Su family has made arrangements, so this connection is very direct.

However, if Wang Shaohui's men are efficient enough, they can get close to the Su Group through Zhang Yang in two to three weeks.

The public relations team's expenses were paid through Su Nianwei's private account. Although the information was kept secret, there were still potential risks.

Uncle Hu is an old friend of the Su family, but he is not publicly known and theoretically cannot be traced. However, there is always a chance of something going wrong.

Xue Xinghe is now out in the open, so Wang Shaohui doesn't dare to touch him, but he will trace the source of the materials back along this line.

Four lines.

If Wang Shaohui's men are efficient enough, they can get close to the Su Group by following Zhang Yang's lead in two to three weeks.

She doesn't have much time left.

Su Nianwei put down her pen, leaned back in her leather chair, and stared at the ceiling.

There is one thing that must be done before Su Nianwei's identity is exposed.

Make Lin Buyi into someone that no one can touch.

In the eyes of capital, good singing skills are at best considered a high-quality product.

Because it is a commodity, it can be replaced or shelved at any time.

Su Nianwei straightened up and wrote a line on the kraft paper notebook.

It went viral on a social level, generating widespread discussion.

This will elevate Lin Buyi's influence to a new level.

At that time, the production team will not dare to edit the footage arbitrarily, and the capital will not dare to interfere.

Any small action against Lin Buyi will immediately provoke a backlash from the entire internet.

At that point, even if Wang Shaohui traced the clues back to Su Nianwei, he would have to consider the consequences.

It's not easy to work with the forest; it means going against the audience across the country.

No businessman would go against this level of traffic.

Closing her notebook, Su Nianwei walked to the French windows.

Night had fallen, the lawn in the garden was neatly trimmed, and the streetlights cast a yellow glow.

My gaze involuntarily drifted downwards, settling on the ventilation window in the basement.

Light was shining through it.

Lin Buyi is still awake.

Su Nianwei stood for a while, then returned to her desk, opened her laptop, and pulled up the next task list.

My fingertips hovered over the keyboard, hesitant to make a move.

Su Nianwei suddenly wondered what she was doing right now.

Protecting investments?

I've spent a lot of money these past two days.

Because the public relations team needed start-up capital, plus the expedited fee of 170,000 yuan for checking IP addresses.

In order to utilize Uncle Hu's connections, he incurred a favor.

All of these factors combined have long exceeded the stop-loss line for normal investors.

The capital market is all about returns, but Su Nianwei has invested so much resources and effort in Lin Buyi that it's impossible to calculate how much profit she'll get in return.

Su Nianwei forcefully suppressed the churning feeling in her chest.

forget about it.

Su Nianwei's fingers flew across the keyboard.

After typing the last word of the list, click save, and then shut down the computer.

Just as I reached the door of the study, I heard faint sounds coming from downstairs.

Su Nianwei's hand, which was gripping the doorknob, paused.

The guitar sound was very clean.

There are no complicated techniques; it's just one chord after another, honestly moving forward.

The singing drifted up the stairwell.

"Sunrise and sunset, deeper and deeper..."

After being blocked by several walls, the bass part sounded a bit muffled, but the lyrics were pronounced very clearly.

"A small square table, with one meat dish and one vegetable dish."

Su Nianwei's breath hitched for a second.

"A figure busily and calmly moves about, and a pair of hands bring warmth to this moment."

The hand resting on the stair railing tightened little by little.

What kind of lyrics are these?

The scene is straightforward: a table, two dishes, and one person cooking in the kitchen.

If you presented such words to those professional judges, they would probably only elicit a polite remark and then be tossed aside.

Su Nianwei gripped the stair railing tightly.

The Su family has a very large dining table.

Made of solid wood, it has twelve seats and is polished to a shine by the servants every day.

From childhood to adulthood, that table has always been full of people.

Those people were all business friends and business partners invited by my father.

Su Nianwei was always seated in a corner far from the head of the table and was required to eat properly.

No one is allowed to interrupt during the meal, and even the sound of knives and forks touching plates cannot be too loud.

Later, a woman named Chen Fanghua entered the house.

There were now two people at the dining table.

Chen Fanghua never looked at Su Nianwei.

Su Nianwei moved out of the mansion the day she went to university and never went back to touch that table again.

Su Nianwei has attended countless private banquets customized by Michelin-starred chefs and witnessed the exquisite plating of famous chefs from all over the world.

But Su Nianwei couldn't recall if, in the past twenty-three years, there had ever been anyone willing to sit quietly across from her and have an ordinary meal with her.

No.

The sounds from the basement were still drifting upwards.

"A person who is too young is never satisfied. Stubbornly unwilling to stop, unwilling to stop their journey..."

Su Nianwei stood there, her left hand unconsciously clenching the hem of her clothes.

My throat feels dry, and the tip of my nose feels a little sore.

"I forgot to look back and see if she was crying."

Su Nianwei had no idea who Lin Buyi was thinking about while he was in the basement with his guitar.

Is it a family member, or some old friend who has never been mentioned?

None of that matters.

The important thing is that, in this late night filled with calculations and self-interest, Su Nianwei understood these few dry lyrics.

In the past, when attending cocktail parties or sitting in the back seat of luxury cars, music was just background noise to fill the silence for Su Nianwei.

Now, Su Nianwei is hiding at the entrance of her own building's stairwell, listening to a man who is staying in the basement sing.

"The moon is bright, the wind is gentle... but you are knocking on my window."

Lin Buyi's voice has a unique graininess and is somewhat rough, sounding like someone whispering in your ear.

"Don't worry if you hear that, I'm actually doing fine."

This is a heartfelt comfort written to someone far away.

The guitar finishes with its last strum.

Su Nianwei stood in the darkness for half a minute.

After confirming that there was no more movement downstairs, Su Nianwei quietly walked down the stairs.

Stopping at the basement entrance, Su Nianwei did not knock.

He turned and walked towards the kitchen.

There was also a late-night snack stewed by Sister Li in the insulated pot on the marble countertop.

Su Nianwei picked up a soup spoon, ladled out a bowl, carried it back, and pushed open the door with one hand.

Lin Buyi sat on the old sofa, his fingers lightly pressing the strings of the piano, his head down, seemingly lost in thought.

Hearing the noise, Lin Buyi looked up.

Their eyes met.

Su Nianwei walked straight over without saying a word and placed the bowl on the small tea table next to her.

He turned and left.

Their pace quickened.

The door was pulled shut behind me.

She rushed back to the master bedroom on the second floor in one breath, her back against the door, her chest heaving.

She walked to the dressing table, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

The person in the mirror had bluish under-eyes due to lack of sleep for days, but the blush from behind their ears spread down their neck.

Neuropathy.

Su Nianwei cursed at herself in the mirror and unscrewed the face cream jar.

The image of a small square table with one meat dish and one vegetable dish keeps replaying in my mind.

Su Nianwei stared at her hands.

With neatly trimmed nails, these hands have signed contracts worth hundreds of millions and finalized many important projects.

But these hands have never cut vegetables.