Life countdown begins, ice queen bursts into security room

After leaving the recording studio, Zhao Guoqiang found a corner in the fire escape at the end of the corridor, squatted down against the wall, and took out a cigarette from his pocket.

Three hundred and twenty yuan.

When I fired Jiang Fan last month, I felt quite relieved.

A disobedient night shift security guard was easy to clean up, like crushing an ant.

Now look what's happened.

He sits in a top-tier recording studio operating a million-dollar mixing console, and the songs he writes are so popular that even divas are vying to sing them.

Zhao Guoqiang took a drag of his cigarette, opened his mobile banking app, and entered the amount: 320.

My finger hovered over the confirm button for two seconds.

He gritted his teeth and changed the number to 3200.

Consider the extra 2,880 as an apology.

Transfer successful.

Less than ten seconds later, my phone vibrated.

Jiang Fan replied: "Too many."

Zhao Guoqiang quickly replied, "It's just a small token of my appreciation, Brother Fan, please accept it."

Another minute later, my phone vibrated again.

Refund notice: 2880 yuan.

Jiang Fan only accepted 320, returning every penny of the extra amount.

Zhao Guoqiang squatted in the fire escape, staring at the number on his phone screen, and stubbed out his cigarette on the base of the fire hydrant.

He pulled another cell phone out of his pocket, looked through his contacts, and dialed a number.

"Old Zhou, help me look up someone."

The voice on the other end of the phone was that of a middle-aged man, sounding somewhat weary: "Who is it?"

"Jiang Fan. I'll send you your ID number via WeChat. Check as much as you can regarding your social relationships, spending records, and communication records."

There was a two-second silence on the other end.

Old Zhou's tone changed.

"What's going on lately? You're the third person this week to ask me to look up this name."

Zhao Guoqiang's hand holding the phone froze.

"The third wave? Who were the first two waves?"

"You know the rules, we don't disclose client information." Old Zhou paused, "But I can tell you, the background of one group is not something someone at your level can touch."

Zhao Guoqiang remained silent.

"I'll send you this information for free this time. Consider it a favor to an old friend. But after you've looked it up, you can decide for yourself what to do."

The phone hangs up.

Zhao Guoqiang stood in the fire escape, his back against the cold cement wall.

A former security guard was being investigated by three groups of people simultaneously.

This water is too deep.

-

Fifteen minutes later, in Wang Haiyang's office.

After Zhao Guoqiang finished reporting the situation, he stood there waiting to be reprimanded.

Wang Haiyang sat in the boss's chair, his fingers rhythmically tapping the mahogany tabletop.

"Three groups of people," he repeated.

"Yes. The investigation company refused to disclose the client, only saying that one of them has a very powerful background."

Wang Haiyang stopped pointing and muttered to himself.

"Jiang Fan, the one who made Xu Qingya stay in the hotel room all night, is he him?"

Zhao Guoqiang was taken aback: "What room?"

"You don't need to know," Wang Haiyang interrupted him, raising his hand. "Don't investigate."

"Yes."

Zhao Guoqiang turned and walked out.

"etc."

Wang Haiyang called out to him.

"Has that 320 revolutions been completed yet?"

"I transferred 3200. He only took 320, and returned the rest."

Wang Haiyang remained silent for a few seconds.

"Get lost."

After the door closed, Wang Haiyang leaned back in his chair, pressing two fingers against his temples.

Three groups of people are investigating a former security guard.

Having been in the entertainment industry for twenty years, there are some things I can't see through, but there are some things I see through very clearly.

This person is not someone you should mess with.

Wang Haiyang picked up the internal phone and dialed a number.

"Go talk to Chen Weiyang and tell him that his contract expires at the end of the year and he won't renew it. Make up your own reason, but don't involve Xu Qingya."

Before the person on the other end of the phone could reply, Wang Haiyang hung up.

Chen Weiyang didn't care.

Those petty things about exchanging power for sex are like ticking time bombs.

If we get rid of it now, we can at least do Xu Qingya a favor.

What truly worried him was Jiang Fan himself.

The background information is unclear, yet three different groups of people are investigating it.

The less clear the investigation is, the more dangerous it becomes.

"Damn it..." Wang Haiyang muttered, flicking the cigarette ash into the ashtray.

Forget it, if we can win them over, we'll try; if not, we'll keep our distance.

Don't offend them.

-

Recording studio.

After Chen Lan packed up the contract and left, only Jiang Fan and Xu Qingya remained in the shed.

He sat in front of the mixing console, his consciousness sinking into the system.

"Redeem the song 'Blue and White Porcelain'."

[Deduct 200 life points. Remaining life points: 4000. Remaining lifespan: 7 days.]

The complete structure of lyrics, music, and arrangement was ingrained in my mind.

Jiang Fan spent forty minutes setting up the music arrangement framework on the workstation.

My phone vibrated; it was a call from Li Cheng.

"Traditional Chinese style arrangements must use traditional musical instruments; we can't just rely on a guitar anymore. Do you have any band resources?" Li Cheng got straight to the point after the call connected.

"no."

"I know a few bands that do live performances, and they're all pretty good. What kind of setup do you need?"

Jiang Fan presented the list.

"Guzheng, piano, bamboo flute, erhu."

Li Cheng took notes on the other end of the phone.

Electric guitar, electronic drums, percussion...

The sound of the pen stopped.

"Wait a minute." Li Cheng took the phone away from his ear, glanced at the screen, and then put it back to his ear. "Guzheng and erhu with electric guitar and electronic drums? Are you trying to do traditional Chinese music or rock?"

Li Cheng has been in the music industry for twenty years and has seen many examples of mixing folk music with electronic music.

Nine out of ten are disaster scenes that are neither fish nor fowl.

"Brother Li, just tell me if you can gather enough people."

"Alright, my ancestor," Li Cheng sighed, "I'll get everyone together for you tomorrow. Seven musicians, rehearsal space plus performance fees, a package deal of thirty thousand. This money—"

"I'll pay."

Jiang Fan hung up the phone.

Xu Qingya was standing behind him without him noticing.

She turned around, walked to her bag, and took out her phone to swipe a few times.

Jiang Fan's phone vibrated.

Notification of arrival of funds: 100,000.

Jiang Fan looked up at her.

Xu Qingya had already turned her back to organize the sheet music, her tone nonchalant.

"Buy some decent clothes. Stop wearing black T-shirts and jeans every day; you look like a construction worker on TV."

She stuffed the sheet music into a folder and picked up her bag.

"Come to my place tonight. There's still some food in the fridge, I'll cook for you."

Jiang Fan leaned back in his chair, watching Xu Qingya walk away, a smile creeping onto his lips.

"OK."

My gaze swept over the system panel.

4000 points. 7 days.

Seven days.

Thankfully, she was there.

-

at the same time.

Shenzhen. An old apartment building.

The curtains were drawn tightly shut, and the lights in the living room were off.

A woman was curled up in the corner of the sofa, the light from her phone screen reflecting on her face.

She watched the same video over and over again.

In the video, Jiang Fan is singing "The Ordinary Road" on the first stage of "The Rising Star".

She dragged the progress bar back and watched it again.

Then turn off the video, open WeChat, and find a chat window with the contact name "Li Cheng".

I typed a line of text, then deleted it all.

Repeat three times.

Finally, she bit her lower lip and pressed the send button.

"Li Cheng, could you introduce Jiang Fan to me?"

After sending the message, she placed her phone face down on her lap and stared at the dark ceiling.

The phone lit up in less than a minute.

"Shen Nian, didn't you say you'd rather die than enter the entertainment industry?"

The woman stared at the screen, her fingers hovering over the keyboard for a long time.

"I've changed my mind."

It took a full three minutes for the other party to reply.

"You know that if you show your face now, that incident from back then will be brought up again. Are you sure?"

"Sure."

In the chat box, Li Cheng's avatar lit up and then went out, then lit up again.

Finally, a message popped up.

"Once this episode is finished being recorded, I'll arrange for you to meet."

Shen Nian put down her phone and buried her face in her knees.

On the coffee table, the last line of a diagnosis report reads: severe depression.