Don't call me a singing god, I just want to go back to doing scientific research.

"What is this?" Gu Yang asked, leaning closer to look at Ling Luo's phone screen.

"The profit-sharing statement that Xingchen gave me."

Gu Yang's gaze was immediately fixed on the ridiculously long string of numbers.

The program paid him a royalties for the live versions of the three songs he sang in the Beijing division!

Gu Yang stopped breathing. He stretched out his finger and pointed tremblingly at the string of zeros, afraid that he might have misread it and added or omitted one.

One, two, three... six zeros!

"Three...three million? This...this is yen?"

Ling Luo smiled and looked at Gu Yang: "What do you think?"

"Holy crap!" Gu Yang suddenly jumped up from the chair, but the movement was too big and aggravated the injury on his arm. He hissed in pain and was quickly pressed back down by Ling Luo.

"Sit still." Ling Luo's voice was calm: "This is just the licensing fee for the live version."

Gu Yang felt a little dizzy. Three million, just for the live broadcast? He used to work himself to the bone running around doing gigs, and he might not even see that many dollars in a whole year.

"How can there be so much? I remember that the licensing fees for other songs were only tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands."

"That's both a favor and a business deal," Ling Luo explained. "The three songs you sang were a huge hit in the Beijing region, both in terms of viewership and buzz. Just like you said, the production team made a fortune."

"They're gambling now, gambling on your continued presence, gambling on me as a person, and gambling on my ability to continuously write better songs for this show. So, they're willing to pay several times the market price to secure the rights to my live performances in advance, giving me a good deal."

As for the studio version, Ling Luo isn't in a hurry. They'll record it after Gu Yang leaves Xingchen. After all, Gu Yang's contract is still with Xingchen.

Gu Yang pursed his lips, finally coming to his senses: "This production team is more shrewd than anyone else."

Ling Luo's songs will only get more and more expensive in the future. By setting a price in advance, they can still buy the live performance rights at that price no matter how expensive Ling Luo's songs become in the future.

Even if we increase the number, it won't be by much. Besides, if this sells well, it will be much easier to buy the copyright later.

Ling Luo didn't say anything more. He turned to look at Gu Yang's arm and changed the subject: "Did you aggravate your injury while moving around backstage?"

Gu Yang subconsciously moved his arm: "It's okay, I don't feel anything anymore."

Ling Luo nodded, her gaze deepening as she looked at Gu Yang's somewhat excited face.

Gu Yang is too simple, so simple that he's a bit foolish. In the past, when he was schemed against in the industry, he would at most get angry for a while, and then turn around and cut off all contact with that person, not even bothering to utter a harsh word.

If I'm not by his side in the future, I wonder if Gu Jing, as his older brother, will protect him.

Judging from Gu Jing's attitude, he doesn't seem to mind Gu Yang's career in the entertainment industry.

That's true. If the Gu family really cared about these things, Ren Dongxuan wouldn't be running to their house every few days.

Just then, the stage lights came on again, and the host's voice came through the speakers, announcing the official start of the third draw.

Gu Yang's gaze snapped away from the profit sharing list on his phone and fixed on Ling Luo.

Those eyes, burning with anticipation, were like a big dog that had just spotted a bone and was practically pouncing on it, wagging its tail.

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"Still trying to borrow luck?" Ling Luo raised an eyebrow.

"Hehe, are you going to lend it to me or not?"

"Your arm was bruised after the last time I lent it to you, so it's not very useful. Go and get it done yourself."

"That's different!" Gu Yang immediately retorted, "I borrowed luck because the rehearsal went smoothly. Look, my rehearsal went perfectly, didn't it? I only injured my arm after the rehearsal was over. I think your luck is quite useful!"

"...soliciting nonsense."

"Just tell me, will you lend it to me or not?"

Ling Luo looked into Gu Yang's stubborn eyes, which were sparkling and reflected her own image.

He sighed silently, and after two seconds, finally surrendered: "Come here."

Since we've already hugged once, what's one more time?

As soon as he finished speaking, Gu Yang, as if she had received a royal decree, immediately snuggled into his arms.

The familiar scent of shampoo mixed with the clean smell unique to young men instantly enveloped Ling Luo's senses. Gu Yang's waist was very slender, and through the thin fabric, Ling Luo could feel the heat emanating from his body, making him stiffen.

He carefully avoided Gu Yang's injured arm, placing one hand lightly on Gu Yang's back and the other hand on the back of his head, pressing the furry head against his own neck.

The hand placed on Gu Yang's back had its fingertips slightly tightened.

It was only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity.

When Gu Yang finally left, satisfied, his face was already flushed: "I'm going now!"

Ling Luo lowered her eyes, concealing the turmoil within them, and nodded gently.

He stood there, watching Gu Yang skip and hop away, a subtle pang of sorrow rising in his heart.

Perhaps the ending was already written in the star trails of our first encounter, like the first leaf of late autumn destined to wither, foreseeing the kiss of the earth from the moment its veins unfurl.

But he still greedily collected the moonlight from the ends of this person's hair, turning every ordinary conversation into amber, knowing that it would eventually crumble into dust at some dawn, yet still using this broken brilliance to carve indelible marks on the cliff of memory.

Ling Luo gave a self-deprecating twitch at the corner of his mouth. Deep down, he was probably a selfish person.

He turned around and silently walked towards the audience.

Not long after I sat down, the big screen started playing a video of the lottery draw going on backstage.

When the camera focused on Gu Yang, showing him holding the number nine ball in his hand, his handsome face scrunched up in a tearful expression, Ling Luo couldn't help but chuckle softly.

See? It was useless to say that.

Ling Luo, a staunch atheist, could almost picture Gu Yang pounding his chest in frustration backstage.

However, he was wrong.

A dejected figure emerged from the passageway, but instead of returning backstage, he plopped down in the empty seat next to him.

Ling Luo turned her head and looked amusedly at the little dog next to her, whose ears were drooping as if someone had stolen its food.

"You've improved; you've moved up one place from last time. Try harder next time and aim for number eight."

Gu Yang raised her head with a mournful expression and glared at him.

How can this person be so calm, and even have a hint of schadenfreude?

Suddenly, Gu Yang's eyes lit up, as if he had figured out some earth-shattering secret: "I know!"

He suddenly leaned closer to Ling Luo, lowered his voice, and spoke with absolute certainty.

"It must be because you're unlucky that I can't borrow good luck from you!"

Ling Luo: "..."

Very good. A person who never wastes his own time has finally learned how to precisely waste the time of others.

"So," Gu Yang said, finding it increasingly reasonable, and nodded firmly, "I think we need to take some time to go to the temple together to offer incense, pray to Buddha, and try to change our luck."

Ling Luo helplessly raised her hand to her forehead.

If an old Taoist priest knew that he went to worship Buddha instead of the Three Pure Ones, he would probably rush down the mountain and chop him up with a peach wood sword.

"Let's watch the game first."

If the conversation continued, he was afraid he might actually agree to this outrageous proposal.