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

10:00 AM, Banshan Villa, Xinghai City.

In the kitchen, the ribs sizzled as they hit the oil, and the irresistible aroma of sweet and sour sauce instantly made one's mouth water.

Lin Yan was skillfully tossing the wok.

He had just finished eating a jianbing (Chinese crepe) on the curb yesterday, and today he promptly kept his promise and cooked a special meal for his wife.

Shen Qingqiu leaned lazily against the kitchen door frame, holding a cup of hot milk in her hand. She watched Lin Yan's busy figure with a smile on her lips and her eyes were so soft they could melt your heart.

Nothing is more comforting than leaving behind your lousy job and watching your husband cook in the kitchen, his body covered in the aroma of cooking.

"Reduce the sauce a little more and it'll be ready to serve."

Lin Yan picked up his chopsticks, took a piece of bright red and crispy pork rib, blew on it twice, and fed it directly to Shen Qingqiu's mouth.

"Wife, try it salty."

Shen Qingqiu took a small bite from his hand, her eyes narrowing into slits with satisfaction: "Absolutely amazing, crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, the sweet and sour ratio is perfect."

"That's right, don't you know what level of culinary master your husband is?" Lin Yan raised an eyebrow smugly.

Just as the peaceful and rosy atmosphere was about to fill the entire villa, a sudden, agonizing doorbell rang outside the front door.

"Ding-dong! Ding-dong ding-dong ding-dong!"

The way they were acting made it seem as if the person outside was being chased by eight hundred burly men with swords, and they wanted to ring the doorbell until it started smoking.

Lin Yan's hand trembled, and he almost knocked the ribs out of the pot.

His face darkened, he quickly turned off the stove, grabbed a towel to wipe his hands, and walked towards the entrance in his flip-flops with an extremely low mood.

"Who is it, announcing a death so early in the morning?"

Lin Yan suddenly yanked open the door, where two lively characters were standing.

One was Lao Liang, carrying a fruit basket in his left hand and documents in his right; the other was Xue Zhiqian, with dark circles under his eyes that looked like they could be sent to Sichuan as national treasures, carrying a guitar on his back and clutching a piece of scrap paper in his hand.

"Boss! Help me!"

The moment the door opened a crack, Xue Zhiqian slid to his knees and grabbed Lin Yan's left leg tightly with both hands. Anyone who didn't know the situation would think they were witnessing a life-or-death farewell.

"Boss, you can't just abandon me like that! You said you were retiring from the entertainment industry on Weibo, and you actually started washing dishes. My new album is coming out next month, and I haven't even touched the sheet music for the title track! Fans are asking me on Weibo every day if I've run out of ideas! I'm going bald from worry, boss!"

Lin Yan's eyelids twitched wildly. He tried to pull his leg out, but couldn't budge it.

"Let go." Lin Yan gritted his teeth.

"I'd rather die than give up! Unless you give me a song today, I'll die right here!" Xue Zhiqian decisively switched to his rogue mode.

Old Liang wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, adjusted his black-rimmed glasses, and spoke in a somber tone as if he were reciting a eulogy.

"President Lin, what Lao Xue said is true. Since you announced your retirement from the entertainment industry, although our group's stock price has surged thanks to your 'dishwashing joke,' there haven't been any follow-up works. Now, investors are camped out outside the company every day demanding an explanation. Couldn't you at least go to work for a few minutes?"

Lin Yan rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. "I just escaped from Paris yesterday and haven't even adjusted to the time difference yet, and you two are already putting on a show of force?"

"President Lin, please have pity on a lowly worker like me!" Xue Zhiqian looked up pleadingly. "I'll give you any scrap of material, as long as it's credited to you. I'd even sing 'Pulling Radishes'!"

Looking at Lao Xue's balding forehead and then at Lao Liang's bitter face that seemed to say "If you don't write songs, the company will disband on the spot," Lin Yan knew that if he didn't bleed a little today, these two troublemakers would definitely stay until they finished eating his family's New Year's Eve dinner.

He glanced back at the sweet and sour pork ribs on the restaurant table, and made up his mind: get rid of them as soon as possible; nothing is more important than eating.

"Want a song? Okay." Lin Yan sneered and took out his phone from SpongeBob's pocket.

Lao Xue and Lao Liang instantly became incredibly energetic, launching themselves into the air in a second.

Lin Yan dialed David, the president of Universal Music Greater China, who was in Los Angeles.

After only three rings, David's excited, almost split-legged, croaking voice came from the other end.

"Oh! Father! God is my witness, you finally contacted me! Director James said that 'My Heart Will Go On' was a miracle! The whole crew cried so much we didn't have enough tissues! When are you flying to America? I'll roll out a red carpet for you tonight!"

"No need." Lin Yan picked at his ear and got straight to the point, "David, do you need any male singers who can sing and dance and have strong stress resistance?"

David paused for a second: "Male singer? Universal Music desperately needs top-tier voices! Father, do you have any promising talents you'd like to recommend?"

"Hmm, ready-made oxen and horses." Lin Yan glanced sideways at Lao Xue, who was eavesdropping. "His voice is distinctive, and most importantly, he's very obedient and extremely eager to work overtime."

Xue Zhiqian felt a chill on the back of his neck, and a sudden sense of foreboding arose.

"Perfect! The person Father has chosen is definitely a genius! Send him to Los Angeles immediately, and I'll use top-tier resources to pave the way for him!" David roared on the phone.

Lin Yan hung up the phone with satisfaction and turned to look at Lao Liang: "Lao Liang, go book two tickets for this afternoon's flight to Los Angeles."

"Huh?" Old Liang was dumbfounded.

"Bullshit. It's time for our 'Don't Want to Go to Work' to conquer the world." Lin Yan began to make grand promises without batting an eye.

"This small pond in China can't contain Lao Xue's true talent; he has to shine in Hollywood. I've taken care of David; you handle the liaison."

Xue Zhiqian's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets: "No... Boss! I've failed my CET-4 (College English Test Band 4) three times! What am I supposed to sing in Hollywood? A bilingual duo?!"

"If you don't know English, go learn it; if you can't sing, I'll teach you."

Lin Yan took two steps to the coffee table, pulled out an A4 sheet of paper, and uncapped the marker.

With a flick of the wrist, without the slightest pause, the pen tip left afterimages on the paper.

Less than two minutes later, an A4 sheet of paper filled with English lyrics and a simplified score of a frenzied drumbeat was slapped onto Xue Zhiqian's chest.

"Believer." Lin Yan flicked the piece of paper, his tone calm yet laced with murderous intent.

"I only have one request: Tear it apart! Throw all the pent-up frustration you've had in the Chinese entertainment industry, and all the anxiety you've been holding in for the past two weeks—it's almost given you prostatitis—into the microphone!"

Xue Zhiqian hurriedly caught the sheet music.

"First things first / I'ma say all the words inside my head..."

He could only understand half of the lyrics, but his intuition as a top singer was still there!

Just looking at those few extremely oppressive melodic lines and the densely packed accented drumbeats, a thunderstorm had already exploded in his mind.

This is a god-tier heavy metal anthem that could blow up any Super Bowl in the world!

"This...this is a reward for me?!"

Xue Zhiqian swallowed hard, his earlier resistance vanishing instantly.

"What's wrong? Does it feel too hot to handle?" Lin Yan reached out as if to take it back.

"No, no, no! I'll fight anyone who touches it!" Xue Zhiqian clutched the A4 paper tightly to his chest, so excited he was practically snotting from his nose.

"Boss, don't worry! Even if I have to eat raw beef every day in Los Angeles, I'll still bombard this song onto the Hollywood charts!"

"Good for you. Get lost. Don't bother me when you get to Los Angeles. If you need anything, call David."

Lin Yan waved his hand like shepherding ducks, pushing and shoving Lao Liang and Xue Zhiqian out the door, then slammed the door shut with a "bang".

The whole world is quiet now.

Lin Yan stretched and walked back to the restaurant. Shen Qingqiu was leaning back in her chair with a half-smile.

"You tricked Lao Xue into going to America just so no one would disturb your afternoon nap?" Shen Qingqiu pointed out incisively.

Lin Yan pulled out a chair and sat down with a flourish, picked up a rib and stuffed it into his mouth, making a mumbled and incoherent attempt to justify himself.

"Honey, isn't that a bit amateurish? This is called employee relocation and optimization. They're across the Pacific Ocean; let's see how they manage to knock on our door tomorrow."