I'm a web novelist, and you want me to work in the entertainment industry?

[Written by myself!]

[Can't find the song title, can't find the lyrics, and can't recognize the melody even with the song recognition app... Huh?]

[Even if it weren't for Che-ge, you wouldn't have told your bros that you had this level of skill?]

[The prestige of the 666 Magic Voice Composition Department is still rising!]

Is this for real? It can't be a script, can it? This is too absurd...

Upon hearing Cheng Che's words, the old man pushed his sunglasses up.

"When was it written? It couldn't have been just made up, could it?" he asked.

Cheng Che casually made up an excuse: "I wrote it in college, and I just thought of it again, so I sang it."

"Good, good, good, I, Old Xie, am getting better too. I even have a celebrity singing for me now." The old man grinned crookedly, the smile even more exaggerated than that of the Dragon King.

Cheng Che put the erhu aside and said solemnly, "I'm not a celebrity, I'm just an ordinary person."

The old man glanced at him, his eyes filled with an undeniable certainty: "It doesn't matter, you'll be a star sooner or later anyway."

Tian Xiwei listened from the side and nodded in deep agreement.

"Grandpa is right." Tian Xiwei counted on her fingers one by one, "Handsome, witty, made it into the top ten trending searches after just one day of recording a variety show, graduated from Magic Voice, can play and sing and even write his own songs..."

As she counted, her voice suddenly stopped because Grandpa Xie and Cheng Che were looking at her with strange expressions.

The old man's gaze was particularly intriguing—he grinned, his eyes slightly narrowed, as if he had discovered something extraordinary.

Tian Xiwei was taken aback at first, then suddenly realized what she had just said.

“!!!!!!”

A surge of heat rushed up her head, and her face flushed bright red.

She instinctively wanted to speak up to make amends, but then felt that anything she said at this moment would only make things worse.

So she immediately took professional measures—she casually raised her head, looked at the fig tree in the courtyard, her expression serious, her eyes deep, as if she was trying to see the ups and downs of the past forty years in this forty-year-old fig tree.

[No! No! No! No! My dear Oda (bursts into tears)!]

【You need to be reserved, honey! Don't be fooled by this nobody! Besides being tall, handsome, interesting, a good cook, gentle, thoughtful, and talented at singing and playing instruments… he's utterly useless!】

[666 I didn't know Cheng Che had so many good qualities until you listed them here. If he were on the dating market, he would be hard to beat.]

[A matchmaking market with this level of quality? You must be living in a novel.]

Cheng Che: Thank you for the divine mandate; I have lived up to your expectations!

"Cough." Cheng Che coughed lightly, picked up the empty Coke can next to him, and took a sip.

The old man looked at Tian Xiwei, then at Cheng Che, his gaze shifting back and forth between the two.

Then he leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and, drawing out his words in a weathered tone, sighed, "Young man—"

Tian Xiwei was still steadfastly studying the fig tree, while Cheng Che crushed the empty Coke can in his hand and threw it into the trash can with a "bang".

But if someone were to get closer and look, in the dim light of the courtyard, they would notice that the tips of both of their ears were slightly red.

The courtyard remained quiet for a while until the photographer broke the silence.

"Um... teachers, it's time to assemble," he whispered a reminder.

"So fast." Cheng Che and Tian Xiwei both came to their senses upon hearing this.

The old man had already dropped his gossipy expression and sat up straight in his chair. "Oh yes, it's getting late."

"Wait for me, I'll be right back." He said, standing up and turning to walk quickly into the house.

Cheng Che and Tian Xiwei exchanged a glance, wondering what the old man was up to this time, and simply waited where they were.

A moment later, the old man came out of the main room, carrying three bulging bags, and put them on the stone table.

The first bag was filled with various drinks—cola, green tea, iced tea…it was probably just taken from the refrigerator, it was still emitting cold air.

The second bag contained figs, each one plump and round, probably freshly picked that day; the old man had deliberately kept some for himself.

The third bag contained dried goods—dried sea cucumbers, dried scallops, dried fish… neatly packaged in sealed bags, clearly homemade, and of much higher quality than what's sold in stores.

"I've watched your show and I know your production team is notoriously stingy. Take these back and eat them slowly." The old man pushed the three bags forward.

After saying that, as if he suddenly remembered something, he took two steps to stand in front of the cameraman, looked at the camera, cleared his throat, and said in a serious tone:

"I'm just getting some things for the two kids. I hope your production team won't object? After all, you wouldn't bully an old fisherman like me, would you?"

[Hahaha, this scene looks so familiar!]

[Please remember, this old man is sixty-eight years old this year. He's already from the older generation, so labeling him is just him entering his comfort zone.]

[Wang Zheng: Is my show doomed to fail?]

[Haha, poor photographer! This is the third time already!]

Just as the comments on the screen predicted, the cameraman's face was even darker than the distant seawater.

Fine, fine, you guys are all targeting me, a lowly wage earner, so you're going to mess with me, aren't you!

I'm so chovy!

In a fit of anger, he started shaking the camera up and down.

Cheng Che and Tian Xiwei blinked, then couldn't help but laugh.

"Thank you for your kindness, sir."

The two took the bag from the old man—Cheng Che carried the drinks in one hand and the figs in the other, while Tian Xiwei hugged the bag of dried goods directly into her arms.

The three of them walked together toward the courtyard gate.

This time, Cheng Che and Tian Xiwei walked in front, carrying heavy bags.

The old man followed behind, his hands behind his back.

As he reached the gate of the courtyard, the old man stopped and leaned against the door frame.

He gestured with his chin at Cheng Che: "Hey kid, remember to release that song soon."

The song was already performed, but it can't be found online. Isn't that ridiculous?

"I'll try my best," Cheng Che said, scratching his head.

He looked at the old man leaning against the door frame—his gray hair was a little messy from the sea breeze, he was still wearing sunglasses, and the fig tree behind him rustled in the lamplight.

"Grandpa," he paused for a moment, "Actually, I have a little money. I'll come to see you when I have time."

Tian Xiwei paused for a moment, turned to look at him, and then nodded vigorously: "Me too!"

The old man didn't say anything.

He just leaned against the door frame and waved cheerfully.

"We're off then, sir, bye-bye!" Tian Xiwei waved goodbye to the old man one last time, then turned and walked away with Cheng Che.

[I, Chovy, didn't cry when I heard the old man's story this afternoon, but seeing this scene suddenly made my nose sting. What is this?]

You're quite sensitive to tears.

[Why are you crying? It's not like it's a matter of life and death. We just agreed to see each other again. What's there to cry about? (Sunglasses face)]

Do you dare take off your sunglasses when you speak?

The old man stood at the gate of the courtyard for a long time, until he could no longer see the two of them, before slowly returning to the courtyard.

The lights were still on in the courtyard, and there were unwashed bowls and chopsticks piled on the stone table, with several stools placed crookedly.

The erhu lay quietly on a stool.

He walked over, picked up the erhu, and sat back down under the fig tree.

He took off his sunglasses and pulled the bow once more.

The sound of a piano began.

This time, it was tactful and pleasant to listen to, neither frivolous nor impatient.