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

Half-mountain villa in Xinghai City.

Two o'clock in the afternoon.

Lin Yan, wearing his dark blue security guard uniform with a monthly salary of three thousand, slumped into a beanbag chair, utterly dejected.

Holding a PS5 controller, the "Tree Guardian" on the screen is carrying out its 108th one-sided massacre against him.

"Dead." The screen popped up with big red text.

Lin Yan sighed and casually tossed the handle onto the carpet.

Since the photo of him carrying a shopping basket, sandwiching nine top international awards between white radishes and raw pork ribs went viral online yesterday, his security guard career is now completely over.

The first floor of the headquarters building of the entertainment group that doesn't want to work is now surrounded by layers of fans, internet celebrities, and musicians from abroad who have come to "pay homage".

The guard booth where he usually played chess with the gatekeeper had even had a piece of glass pried off and auctioned off.

"Honey, I think my job as a security guard is coming to an end." Lin Yan looked at Shen Qingqiu, who was sitting in front of the floor-to-ceiling window not far away, working on documents.

Shen Qingqiu was wearing a plain-colored home sweater, and her long hair was casually tied up with a jade hairpin.

Hearing Lin Yan complain, she didn't even look up, but instead, with a half-smile, she undermined him.

"Who told you to treat the Oscar statuette and phonograph like cabbages? Now netizens across America are protesting your waste of resources, and Charles and Steve's Twitter accounts have been flooded with criticism."

Lin Yan pouted: "They forced that on me. Besides, ribs are expensive, who's responsible if they get damaged?"

Just then, the cell phone on the coffee table started vibrating violently.

The caller ID on the screen reads: Lao Xue.

Lin Yan raised an eyebrow. These past few days, Lao Xue has been in Los Angeles. Thanks to the soundtracks for "A Chinese Odyssey" and "Ocean Heart," as well as the aftershocks of Lin Yan winning six Grammy nominations, the company's reputation in North America is soaring.

As the most active male singer under his label, Lao Xue was invited to attend the North American pop musicians' charity gala on the eve of the Grammys.

In Lao Liang's words, this is a golden opportunity for Chinese singers to break into the mainstream North American music scene.

Lin Yan pressed the answer button and casually turned on speakerphone.

"Hey, Lao Xue, shouldn't you be in Los Angeles eating tomahawk steaks and dancing intimately with Hollywood actresses right now?" Lin Yan joked lazily.

On the other end of the phone, however, came Lao Xue's voice, deliberately lowered, filled with deep grievance and anger.

"Boss... I've been bullied."

Lin Yan's previously slouching back straightened instantly.

Shen Qingqiu, who was standing next to him, also stopped writing and turned to look at him.

"What happened? Tell me slowly." Lin Yan's tone remained calm, but that carefree, nonchalant air had completely disappeared.

Across the ocean.

The grand ballroom of the Wilshire Hotel in Beverly Hills, Los Angeles.

It was already 8 p.m. local time.

This charity gala, titled "Starlight Night," brought together half of the North American pop music scene.

Blonde-haired, blue-eyed superstars sipped champagne and chatted and laughed under the Swarovski crystal chandelier.

Old Xue, dressed in a suit, sat alone in a restroom stall, his eyes red and swollen.

"Boss, these bastards are scum!" Old Xue gritted his teeth, his voice trembling.

"As soon as I entered the venue, Justin Timberlake, the hottest pop star in North America right now, came over with a few people and blocked my way. They were polite on the surface, but they were full of subtle threats behind my back."

Old Xue took a deep breath and reported rapidly.

Justin is currently a top star in North America, and he's very proud and arrogant.

Yesterday, a photo of Lin Yan carrying a gramophone in a vegetable basket was sent to North America, directly stinging these self-proclaimed noble Western singers.

They didn't dare to cause trouble for Lin Yan across the ocean, so they vented their anger on Lao Xue, who represented the company at the event.

"Justin told me in front of dozens of European and American producers that Chinese music, apart from cello accompaniment and outdated symphonies, is just a pile of garbage in terms of pop music. He said we only know how to sing sentimental love songs, and in terms of rhythm and beat, we are not even as good as the black kids playing in the mud in his community."

Old Xue grew increasingly agitated, his voice becoming hoarse: "They even said that you won a Grammy purely because those senile judges pitied Chinese music, but in the realm of pop music, Chinese people will never even get close to Billboard!"

"I got really angry and wanted to argue with him, but my broken English was no match for theirs. Nobody spoke up for me; they all looked at me like I was a clown. Boss... I felt like I had completely disgraced the company." Lao Xue sniffed.

He wasn't a fragile person, but being publicly isolated by the top people in that circle in a foreign country was so oppressive that even a superstar who could wield immense influence in the Chinese entertainment industry couldn't hold back.

"Boss, should I just book a plane ticket and go back home?" Lao Xue asked in despair.

Inside the villa on the hillside.

It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Shen Qingqiu's face turned completely cold. As the head of the company that didn't want to go to work, she knew all too well how fatal such a humiliation at an international event could be to the company's future overseas strategy.

"Get the legal department involved and contact the banquet organizers." Shen Qingqiu acted swiftly, picking up her phone to make a call.

A long, slender hand pressed down on her wrist.

Lin Yan leaned back on the sofa, his eyes showing no rage, only an extreme indifference as if he were looking at trash.

"Legal matters can't resolve prejudice; they'll only make them think we're a sore loser," Lin Yan said calmly.

He picked up his phone again, spoke into the microphone, his voice not loud, but it carried a sense of oppression that sent shivers down Lao Xue's spine.

"Old Xue".

"Yes, boss."

"Do they think our pop music lacks rhythm and groove? That it's just empty whining?"

"Yes... that's exactly what Justin said. He even planned to humiliate me by singing an R&B cover in front of everyone during the next performance." Lao Xue gritted his teeth.

"it is good."

Lin Yan stood up, kicked off her flip-flops, and stepped barefoot onto the carpet.

"Do you think these foreign devils, who haven't even shed their pubescent hairs yet, can just tell me how to behave?"

Lin Yan walked to the French windows and looked at the darkening sky outside.

"Old Xue, listen to me now, go wash your face. Come out of the restroom and find the most conspicuous spot to sit down. Eat and drink what you like."

"But boss, they..."

"No buts. How long until the free performance session at the banquet?" Lin Yan interrupted him without room for argument.

Old Xue paused for a moment, then quickly checked his watch: "About an hour and a half more."

"That's enough."

Lin Yan's lips curled into a cold smile, a kind of arrogance born of extreme protectiveness.

"Go tell that Justin guy. In an hour and a half, you'll be on stage. Use their most prized rhythm and beat to stomp his face hard onto the Los Angeles floor."

On the other end of the phone, Lao Xue's brain went blank for a moment.

"Boss, what... what should I sing? The songs I brought are mostly ballads, which won't hold up in this kind of venue!"

Xue Zhiqian panicked. The industrialization of North American pop music is terrifying. The fusion of dynamic, electronic, and R&B elements makes it difficult for the current Chinese music scene to compete head-on.

"Don't worry about what you sing. Find someone in the Los Angeles branch and connect your tablet to the printer. I'll send you the sheet music in ten minutes."

Lin Yan paused for a moment, his voice icy cold.

"Since they think our pop music is too soft, then I'll give them a song that can blow the roof off the entire audience."

beep.

The phone hangs up.

Shen Qingqiu looked at Lin Yan in front of him. The boss, who would never sit down if he could lie down, had completely lost his casual demeanor, replaced by a chilling sharpness.

"What do you need me to do?" Shen Qingqiu quickly got into the zone and asked efficiently.

Lin Yan turned around and walked towards the study.

"Make me a cup of coffee. Also, notify the relevant personnel to immediately take over the sound control panel at the Wilshire Hotel in Los Angeles."

Lin Yan didn't turn around, leaving behind a resounding statement:

"Tell him that when Lao Xue goes on stage tonight, the entire venue's sound system will only be able to play our company's audio!"