Chapter Sixty-Four: An Unexpected Gain, The Middle-Aged Duo

“Huh?” The two of them turned their heads.

“You two have been making quite a name for yourselves lately, so I went to watch some of your livestreams. I think you both have great potential—have you ever thought about making a debut?”

Since when did talent scouts wrap themselves up so tightly? Could this be a scammer?

Mu Tang was just about to speak when Zhou Ke beside her stopped her.

“There’s no deposit or signing fee, right?”

“Of course not!” Su Zitan waved her hand grandly. “We’re a legitimate company, nothing shady like that!”

“Our company is really good. We’re just starting out, so you’ll get plenty of resources, and every year you can even go abroad for team building!”

“Team building?” Zhou Ke was taken aback.

“Yes, we’ll take you to visit neighboring countries, experience a bit of foreign culture.”

“Is there a chance to work abroad too?” Zhou Ke pressed.

Lin Ze thought for a moment. “Well… that could be arranged. If you ever get tired of this, you could find some easy work abroad, like making calls or something…”

“So you are scammers! I’m calling the police!” Mu Tang raised her voice.

Mu Tang’s voice was loud, and when she shouted, half the bar heard what was going on, despite there not being many people around.

“Wait, don’t shout!” Lin Ze hurriedly pulled down his mask to show them his face.

Su Zitan also removed her mask.

“Oh, Lin! It’s you!” Zhou Ke let out a sigh of relief. “You gave me a scare.”

“Brother Zhou.” Lin Ze smiled. “My studio is about to open. Would you two be interested in being our first signed artists?”

Both of them were surprised.

“Is this for real?”

“Of course it is. I’ll even give you the copyright to ‘Moonlight Over the Lotus Pond’ as a welcome gift if you join. How does that sound?”

“What’s going on?” Chang Zheng came over, looking curious.

The last song had just finished, and he’d seen them shouting while he sang.

“And you are?” Lin Ze asked.

“Chang Zheng.” Chang Zheng stared at Lin Ze for a moment, recognition dawning. “You’re Lin Ze, the one from the show!”

“That’s right, it’s me.” Lin Ze nodded. “I just heard you singing—have you ever thought about making a debut?”

“…Huh?” Chang Zheng was stunned.

“I have songs ready. If you join us, I’ll give you one right away,” Lin Ze said earnestly.

Su Zitan chimed in, “This is a rare opportunity. Everyone knows Lin Ze’s songs are dominating the top ten new releases. The quality speaks for itself.”

“We’ve all worked in music this long—you must love music too. We’re a legitimate studio. If you want to enter showbiz, why not give it a try?”

Su Zitan’s words were smooth and persuasive, more convincing than Lin Ze’s casual tone.

“It all sounds a bit unreal… Let me think about it,” Chang Zheng hesitated.

But now that the opportunity was right in front of him, he found himself shrinking back. When he’d competed in that talent show, his singing had been leagues ahead of the others in his group. But he’d been rejected because of his looks. That experience had shattered his confidence.

“Don’t overthink it,” Lin Ze interrupted his thoughts. “What’s the worst that could happen? It’ll be just like now, right?”

“…As much as I hate to admit it…” Chang Zheng smiled wryly, “Alright, I’m in!”

With him on board, Phoenix Park would be no problem. After all, ‘Moonlight Over the Lotus Pond’ was already on the charts, and with Lin Ze’s promise, joining for just that one song was worth it.

“Great! Here’s to a successful partnership!”

…

“Is this really happening?” Xu Shenshen’s eyes were wide with disbelief.

Even though he was popular at the Creation Camp, he was only ranked fifth or sixth. He didn’t have a company and was just an independent trainee. Suddenly, he’d received an invitation from Eastern Emperor Entertainment—something he’d never even dared dream of.

Now Zhang Yang was sitting right in front of him.

Zhang Yang had a great impression of Xu Shenshen—after all, anyone who criticized Lin Ze was a friend in his book.

“Since you don’t have any major achievements yet, I can only offer you a C-level contract for now. But once you achieve more, we’ll upgrade it,” Zhang Yang said with a friendly smile.

“Thank you, Brother Yang! I’ll work twice as hard from now on!”

Xu Shenshen, sporting a middle-parted silver-gray hairstyle, didn’t even read the contract carefully before signing his name in bold strokes.

“Welcome aboard!” Zhang Yang shook his hand.

But beside Zhang Yang sat another person—a woman who smiled politely, her demeanor calm yet indifferent beneath the surface.

“This will be your manager. She currently has another artist under her, but don’t worry, that arrangement will end soon.”

“Thank you, Brother Yang. May I ask your name, sister?” Xu Shenshen held out his hand.

“My name is Sun Rou,” she replied, shaking his hand. “Don’t worry—as long as you’re obedient, I’ll support you well. After all…”

“I was the one who brought Li Xiangyu up.”

Xu Shenshen was stunned, then suddenly excited. “Sister Sun! I’ll follow all your arrangements!”

Zhang Yang nodded in satisfaction, his hand casually landing on Sun Rou’s backside.

Sun Rou’s expression didn’t change; she said nothing.

Xu Shenshen noticed but didn’t dare say a word.

“Well, you two can chat. The training center’s been closed for a bit, so I’m glad to have a break. Living here every day is stifling,” Zhang Yang said, a glint of excitement flashing in his eyes.

“I have an engagement tonight, so I’ll leave you to it.”

After Zhang Yang left, a trace of disgust finally flickered in Sun Rou’s eyes.

…

What should we film next week?

Director Zhang lay on the rocking chair at Chen Weiguo’s house, racking his brains.

It wasn’t that he lacked ideas—just that with an extra ten million in the budget, he wanted to spend it wisely.

“All this money is from Xiao Lin’s father-in-law?” Chen Weiguo asked from a nearby chair, surprised.

“Yes, so I keep thinking I should do him a favor in the game, give him more screen time or something. But even without that, the performances of those two have already carried half our ratings.”

“True,” Chen Weiguo mused. “The first week was at my place because of the limited budget, so it was all a bit rushed and lacked entertainment value.”

As he thought aloud, an idea struck him.

“How about this? Now that their studio is just opening and needs publicity, why not…”