A song called "The You of the Past" has prompted the entire internet to beg me not to leav

Xinghai City, the headquarters of the "Don't Want to Go to Work" entertainment group.

Thirty-three floors, top-of-the-line recording studio.

For the past month, Zhang Dagang has been like a madman, obsessively spending all his time in the editing room, from eating and drinking to relieving himself.

The first cut of "A Chinese Odyssey" has been completed.

But he always felt that something was missing.

The first half is nonsensical comedy, while the second half is a tragic fate. The visuals and emotions have reached their peak.

But in the grand finale scene of the kiss on the city wall, the background sound was hollow, like a stunningly beautiful woman without clothes—beautiful, yes, but soulless.

He tried dozens of background music tracks, including folk music, symphonic music, and pop music, but he rejected them all in a fit of anger by smashing his headphones.

Having no other choice, he had to swallow his pride and rush to the villa halfway up the mountain to drag Lin Yan to the company.

"President Lin, help!" Zhang Dagang tugged at Lin Yan's sleeve. "We're just missing one song. This movie won't stand without this grand finale!"

Lin Yan was wearing gray athletic shorts and flip-flops, and was holding a half-finished glass of iced cola.

He let out a long yawn, his eyes languid: "Director Zhang, we agreed that I would only act, and post-production would be your responsibility. I still need to stew some ribs."

"Let the ribs wait!" Zhang Dagang stamped his feet anxiously.

"President Lin, you invested money in this film and you even acted in it. You can't just watch it fail at this final stage! I'm begging you, if you don't step in, this old man of mine is going to jump off a building."

Shen Qingqiu pushed open the door and walked in. Today she was wearing a simple white turtleneck sweater and light blue jeans, her hair was casually tied back, and she had no makeup on, but she was still so beautiful that people couldn't take their eyes off her.

"Please help him," Shen Qingqiu said softly, a hint of expectation in her phoenix eyes.

"I also want to see what kind of music you would use for the ending of Supreme Treasure and Zixia."

Upon hearing his wife speak, Lin Yan's previously perfunctory expression instantly vanished.

"Alright."

Lin Yan slowly walked to the control panel outside the recording studio.

He picked up a black marker from the table and took out a blank A4 sheet of paper.

Zhang Dagang held his breath, and Lao Liang also poked his head in from outside the door.

The dozens of top musicians and sound engineers in the entire recording studio fell silent instantly, not even daring to cough.

Brush brush.

The pen tip rubbed rapidly across the paper for less than three minutes.

Lin Yan slapped the A4 sheet of paper filled with sheet music and lyrics onto Zhang Dagang's chest.

"This song is called 'A Lifetime of Love'."

Zhang Dagang caught it in a flurry and looked down.

The moment he saw the first line of the lyrics, his bloodshot eyes snapped open.

Love and hate surge in the sea of ​​suffering; in this world, one cannot escape fate.

Just from that one line, Zhang Dagang felt a chill run down his spine, as if a tiny electric current was shooting through his tailbone.

These aren't lyrics; they're practically ripping open Supreme Treasure's heart with a knife!

"No band needed, just an acoustic guitar and some reverb."

Lin Yan pushed open the heavy soundproof door of the recording studio and strode inside.

He picked up the Martin guitar from the shelf, pulled over a bar stool, and sat down.

Adjust the microphone height and pluck the strings with your fingers as you please.

"bite……"

A clean, solitary guitar overtone echoed in the recording studio.

Zhang Dagang put on the monitoring headset, and Shen Qingqiu also walked to the control panel and picked up the headset.

The next second, Lin Yan spoke.

There was none of his usual carefree attitude, none of the irreverent cynicism of the Monkey King.

It was a voice that seemed to have been buried in the yellow sand for thousands of years, rough, hoarse, and full of endless vicissitudes and relief.

This voice doesn't belong to a young man in his twenties at all; it belongs to an ascetic monk who has donned a golden headband, severed all desires, and embarked on a solitary journey.

"The past is gone and will never return."

"Red fallen leaves are buried in the dust."

"The beginning and the end are always the same."

"You drift beyond the white clouds in the sky."

The guitar strumming is extremely simple, without any fancy techniques, only the most basic arpeggios, but Lin Yan's enunciation carries a kind of numbness and trembling from seeing through the world.

Shen Qingqiu's body stiffened slightly.

Through the glass window, she watched the man with his eyes closed plucking the strings, and instantly the image of a monkey carrying a golden cudgel, walking towards the setting sun without looking back, flashed into her mind.

The sound engineer in the control room had his mouth slightly open, his finger hovering over the fader, but he didn't dare to put it down.

"Love and hate surge in the sea of ​​suffering"

"No one can escape fate in this world."

"Blind dates turned out to be impossible to get close to."

"Or perhaps I should believe it's fate."

When those four lines of the chorus came out with a bang, Lin Yan's voice suddenly had a hint of a hoarse, suppressed nasal tone.

That was the lament of the Monkey King.

It's a dead end: I can't save you without the golden headband, but I can't love you even with it on.

Zhang Dagang's legs went weak, and he collapsed into a chair, tears welling up unexpectedly in the eyes of this tough-guy director in his fifties.

He got it.

This comedy, which has been widely criticized for being a parody and exaggerated, is actually a tragic story at its core.

"My lover will never return after we part."

Silently sitting alone, gazing beyond the mundane world.

Flowers may fade, but they will bloom again.

"The love of my life is faintly visible beyond the white clouds."

Lin Yan closed his eyes, his fingers mechanically plucking the strings. He was simply hammering away with his most primal emotions.

Outside the recording studio.

Old Liang rubbed his sore eyes, turned his back, and quietly clenched his fist.

Several emotional female assistants had already covered their faces with tissues, their makeup ruined by tears.

"Love and hate surge in the sea of ​​suffering"

"No one can escape fate in this world."

"Blind dates turned out to be impossible to get close to."

"Or perhaps I should believe it's fate."

As the last line was sung, the guitar music slowly faded away.

Lin Yan did not put down his instrument; he sat in front of the microphone for a full minute.

The only sounds in the control room were heavy breathing and suppressed sobs.

Lin Yan opened his eyes, put down his guitar, pushed open the soundproof door, and walked out.

"Is it finished recording?" he asked the audio engineer, who was still in a daze.

The audio engineer jolted awake and nodded frantically: "One take...no need for audio editing, absolutely nothing!"

Lin Yan turned to Zhang Dagang: "Alright, the song is yours. Put it in during post-production. I'm going home to stew some ribs."

Zhang Dagang grabbed Lin Yan's wrist, tears streaming down his face, his voice trembling: "President Lin...you're a god! With this song added, 'A Chinese Odyssey' will be a monument in Chinese cinema!"

"Don't try to disgust me with this." Lin Yan pulled her hand away in disgust. "Don't forget our agreement: after the movie is released, don't bother me with publicity."

Shen Qingqiu stepped forward, her eyes slightly red. She didn't speak, but simply reached out and took Lin Yan's hand.

Lin Yan took her soft hand in his palm, squeezed it gently, and muttered softly, "Why are you making that face? I'm not wearing a golden headband."

Shen Qingqiu burst into laughter through her tears, and softly scolded, "You're so annoying."

……

Three months later.

"A Chinese Odyssey" has passed censorship and is officially scheduled for release during the National Day Golden Week.

Xinghai City, Universal Studios headquarters.

Several bigwigs from the China Cinema Alliance were sitting in a conference room sipping tea, the atmosphere somewhat nonchalant.

"Zhang Dagang's drama is going to be a close call."

Mr. Zhao, the general manager of Southern Cinemas, exhaled a smoke ring and tapped the table with his finger.

"I watched the trailer. Lin Yan is playing Sun Wukong? And he's even dating the White Bone Demon? Isn't that pure nonsense?!"

"Exactly, while young people's tastes have changed, can classic works be altered so haphazardly?"

Mr. Li, the general manager of the Northern Cinema Line, blew on the tea foam and let out a cold laugh.

"The 'Don't Want to Work' Group is very rich, and Lin Yan is an excellent songwriter, but why is he going to act in movies? Especially comedies? He's taking too big a step; he might just tear his balls."

The door was pushed open, and Lao Liang walked in with a film scheduling agreement in hand, his face beaming with smiles.

"Gentlemen, what are you chatting about that makes you so happy?"

"Mr. Liang," Mr. Zhao flicked his cigarette ash without looking up, "we've discussed it, and on the first day of screenings for your film 'A Chinese Odyssey,' we'll give it a maximum of 15%."

The smile on Lao Liang's face gradually disappeared.

During the National Day holiday, a period of fierce competition among top-tier film studios, a 15% allocation to a film is tantamount to a death sentence.

"Mr. Zhao, that's not fair of you," Old Liang said, barely suppressing his anger. "Mr. Lin himself stars, Zhang Dagang directs, and you only give 15%? Are you trying to fob us off?"

Mr. Zhao scoffed, "Mr. Liang, a movie isn't a concert. Just because Lin Yan has a lot of fans doesn't mean they'll spend money to go to the cinema to watch a terrible movie. We need to make a living too."

Old Liang took a deep breath and remembered the bottom line Lin Yan had given him before leaving.

"Thirty percent." Old Liang stared intently at President Zhao. "I guarantee this with the reputation of the 'Don't Want to Work Group.' If the opening day box office doesn't meet expectations, you can cut the subsequent screenings as you please. Also…"

Old Liang gritted his teeth and forced himself to recite the extremely humiliating line that Lin Yan had arranged for him.

"If 'A Chinese Odyssey' doesn't top the box office during the National Day holiday, I, Lao Liang, will personally go to all the cinemas under your respective chains and clean their toilets for free for a month!"

These words caused an uproar in the conference room.

Mr. Zhao and Mr. Li exchanged a glance, both seeing a strong sense of mockery in each other's eyes.

"Great! Mr. Liang, you're absolutely right!" Mr. Zhao slammed his hand on the table. "Thirty percent it is! I want to see what a spectacular sight it is when a senior executive of our company comes to clean our toilets!"

A moment later, Lao Liang finished signing the contract, walked out of the conference room, and took out a handkerchief to wipe the cold sweat from his forehead.

"President Lin, please don't betray me..." Old Liang looked up at the ceiling in the corridor, his heart sinking.

If I really had to clean toilets for a month, I'd completely lose face in the industry.