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

But he can't quite put his finger on what kind of feelings they are right now.

She staked everything on him: the Su family's connections, her own resources, and those late nights she spent monitoring data at 3 a.m. That's not what an investor should do.

But he doesn't have time to think this through right now.

The competition is only halfway through; there's still a long road ahead. All he can do is sing well.

We'll talk about the rest after the match.

Lin Buyi closed his eyes and continued walking forward.

……

On the morning of the match, when Lin Buyi went downstairs, breakfast was already laid out on the dining table.

Millet porridge, steamed eggs, and side dishes are the usual dishes.

An extra bowl of stewed pear and white fungus with rock sugar was added.

Lin Buyi walked over and took a look—the pears were cut into neat squares, the white fungus was torn evenly, and the soup was clear. He scooped up a spoonful and tasted it.

The sweetness is just right. One and a half rock sugar pieces.

On the coffee table was a bottle of honey lemonade and a note.

The note was brief: "Speak less. Save your energy for the stage."

Lin Buyi picked up the note, looked at it for two seconds, folded it up, and stuffed it into his pocket.

He sat down and began to eat breakfast. He drank two bowls of porridge, ate the steamed egg, and finished the white fungus soup.

Footsteps echoed down the stairs.

Su Nianwei came down.

She was dressed very formally today. A black dress, with a clean cut. Her hair was up, revealing her neck and ears. Small, silver-white stud earrings shimmered under the restaurant lights. She wore full makeup, her lips a subtle, dark red.

Lin Buyi glanced at her but didn't say anything.

Su Nianwei walked to the dining table and sat down. A maid brought her coffee. She took the cup, took a sip, and then glanced at the empty bowl in front of Lin Buyi.

"You drank it all?"

"Um."

Su Nianwei didn't say anything, looking down at her phone. After a while, she asked, "What time do we leave?"

"The recording starts at 10, I just need to arrive at 9."

"Then leave at eight o'clock."

"I'll take the subway—"

"What subway are you taking?" Su Nianwei interrupted him, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Have Lao Zhou take you to the parking lot behind the studio and enter through the back door. No one will notice."

Lin Buyi thought for a moment. Today was indeed not a good day to take the subway. An hour and a half journey plus the noisy environment of the subway would be bad for his throat.

"OK."

Su Nianwei stood up, picked up her bag, and walked to the door.

The VIP room has a separate entrance; she goes her way, and Lin Buyi goes his, so the two paths won't intersect.

As she reached the door, she suddenly stopped and turned around.

She took a small box out of her bag and threw it from a distance of two meters.

Lin Buyi reached out and caught it.

He opened it and saw—a pair of wireless in-ear earbuds. White, with exquisite workmanship. He flipped them over and glanced at the model label: professional-grade noise-canceling model.

"Wear it while waiting backstage." Su Nianwei stood at the door, her hand on the doorknob. "The noise from backstage—people talking, moving around, adjusting their microphones—is quite loud. Don't let the outside noise affect your performance."

After saying that, she left without looking back.

The door closed very softly.

Lin Buyi looked down at the pair of earplugs and flipped them in his palm.

Then he put it in the same pocket as the note.

At eight o'clock sharp, driver Lao Zhou drove the car to the villa's entrance. Lin Buyi came out carrying his guitar case and sat in the back seat.

The car drove out of the villa area and onto the main road.

Lin Buyi opened the window a crack to let the breeze in. The morning air was a little cool, and it felt refreshing on his face.

He took out his phone and glanced at it—the Weibo community was still discussing the clarification of his plagiarism controversy. The hype had died down, but the topic of "Lin Buyi resuming the competition" was still in the top 20 of the trending searches.

He logged out of Weibo and opened WeChat.

Lin Qingxue sent him a message yesterday, but he hasn't replied yet.

"Hey bro, are you having a competition today? Good luck!"

It was followed by a fist emoji.

Lin Buyi typed back two words: "Don't worry."

After sending it, he thought for a moment and added, "Wait for my good news."

Then he locked the screen and put the phone in his pocket.

The car drove for forty minutes before arriving at the parking lot behind the studio.

Old Zhou parked the car, turned around and said, "Mr. Lin, Ms. Su said that no matter how late it is after the competition, just call me and I'll come pick you up."

"Okay. Thank you, Brother Zhou."

Lin Buyi got out of the car, picked up his guitar case, and headed towards the back door.

The moment he pushed open the back door, a smell mixed with hairspray, electrical wires, and cold air from the air conditioner hit him.

The national competition's studio was more than twice the size of the local competition's.

The backstage area was a long corridor with dressing rooms of various sizes on both sides. People were coming and going in the corridor—stylists jogged along pushing clothes racks, lighting technicians squatted in the corner adjusting equipment, and contestants' assistants carried coffee through the corridor.

Lin Buyi stood at the entrance of the corridor, carrying his guitar case, and glanced around.

The door to the largest dressing room was open. There was a card stuck to the door with two words printed on it: Jiahao.

As Lin Buyi passed by, he peeked through the crack in the door. There were at least seven or eight people inside—an agent, a stylist, a vocal coach, two assistants, and someone carrying a camera filming behind-the-scenes footage.

Chen Jiahao sat in the makeup chair with his eyes closed as the stylist did his hair.

Lin Buyi did not stop and continued walking inside.

At the end of the corridor was an empty lounge. There were no name tags, and no one was there. There was a folding table, two plastic chairs, and a water dispenser.

Lin Buyi pushed open the door, placed the guitar case on the table, and sat down on the plastic chair.

This is his "dressing room".

He took out the earplugs Su Nianwei had given him and put them in his ears.

The world fell silent. The noise in the corridor, the distant sound of adjusting the volume, and the hum of the air conditioner were all shut out.

He closed his eyes and began to play songs in his head.

Go through it one word at a time.

"Sunrise and sunset, deeper and deeper—"

His lips moved slightly, but no sound came out.

About twenty minutes later, someone knocked on the door.

Lin Buyi took off one earbud.

The door was pushed open.

Chen Jiahao stood at the door.

He wore a dark blue suit with a silver brooch at the lapel, and his hair was styled perfectly with hair gel. His smile appeared natural, his teeth were straight, and his dimples were just right—but his eyes swept over Lin Buyi, over the guitar, and over the empty room with its folding table and plastic chairs, lingering for less than a second.

That's an appraisal.

"Lin Buyi?" Chen Jiahao asked.

"Hello. I'm Chen Jiahao." He took two steps in, extended his right hand, and said, "I've listened to your song; it's very well written."

Lin Buyi stood up and shook hands with him.

The amount of force used was polite, neither too much nor too little.

"Thanks."

Chen Jiahao maintained his smile, his left hand in his pocket, his posture relaxed.

"We're in the same group today, so let's all rely on our own abilities. Good luck!"

After saying that, he raised his hand and patted Lin Buyi on the shoulder. The force of that hand landing was just right on the line between "friendliness" and "pressure".