Chapter 73: A Brazen Declaration of War

It was already getting late, so everyone began to prepare the ingredients and soup bases. By six-thirty, several tables had been set up in the courtyard. At the very front, a small stage had been arranged, with six tables in total, each able to seat eight people.

Since the tables were joined together, and for everyone's hygiene, each person not only had their own chopsticks but also a shared pair for communal dishes. Of course, if everyone at a table didn’t mind, they could forgo the communal chopsticks.

Outside, the crowd was lively, and the staff struggled to keep everything under control. Director Zhang had just arrived as well, unable to help but admire Lin Ze's ability to attract fans. After the last show ended, he had anticipated something like this and hired extra staff, but he still underestimated Lin Ze.

“Line up and get your numbers,” Lin Ze called out. “Don’t worry, everyone! Even if we stay open till ten or eleven tonight, we can’t serve that many people!”

“If your number is farther back, you might as well go home and watch the livestream for that sense of togetherness. There are more events tomorrow and the day after—no need to rush!”

[That’s some next-level emotional support.]

[I wish I could be there, eating hotpot with Brother Lin... Wouldn’t that be as good as…]

[Hey, don’t get carried away!]

Lin Ze kept a distance from the crowd, just in case—after all, there were always stories online about crazed fans. Some people joked about it, but others took it seriously. Lin’s manager worried that a deranged fan might try something drastic just to be remembered.

“The pot’s boiling! Come on, little brother!” Su Zitan called Lin Ze from the courtyard entrance.

Lin Ze waved to the audience before heading back. Watching from afar wasn’t ideal, and one fan noticed the restaurant next door, with its large glass windows.

“I won’t have hotpot, can I eat in the restaurant?” the fan shouted.

Director Zhang, inside, heard this and looked at the empty restaurant. “Well... it’s possible, but the chefs are having dinner now—there’s no one to cook.”

“Then we’ll just drink!” the fan replied.

“That can work, but you have to line up and take turns. Everyone must order a drink, and you only get twenty minutes. When time’s up, you have to leave,” Director Zhang improvised.

His voice carried inside.

“Wait a minute,” Lin Ze poked his head out, “are you treating us like monkeys in a zoo?”

[Not a bad deal—drinks are cheap, and you get to see the real people through the glass.]

[And not just Brother Lin and his wife, but also Aunt Xue and the Emperor!]

[One drink to see eight celebrities—pretty good! When I was a fan of a certain pop star, a single ticket for an album signing cost five hundred yuan.]

Just then, the two lines at the door were properly formed.

“If you want to see the next round of hotpot, stay put. If you want to drink, come in one at a time.”

In the courtyard, the hotpot was bubbling. Lin Ze and Su Zitan sat at a table, with beef tallow hotpot in the center.

“Should we just start eating? Or have a toast first?” a young man asked timidly.

“A toast? Sure, let’s do it.”

Everyone stood up, raising their glasses—some with alcohol, some with juice or tea.

“To love and to tomorrow!” Lin Ze called out.

The atmosphere was harmonious as everyone took a sip. Only Ji Chen sat on the stage with his guitar.

“What about me?” he asked.

Lin Chunshui laughed from below the stage, “We’ve got wine and meat, but we’re missing your music. Sing for us!”

“Aren’t the two of us both supposed to perform? Why am I the only one singing?” Ji Chen protested, aggrieved.

“You can eat in the second round,” Lin Chunshui replied, popping a piece of tripe into his mouth.

Ji Chen looked tragic, then considered for a moment. He decided to sing his most famous song.

He strummed the guitar, the melody recalling a tune from a decade or two ago.

“On graduation day, I brought the flowers I’d grown for three years,
To meet the girl I’ve loved for so many years…”

Ji Chen’s voice was tinged with both world-weariness and a raspy edge. Such a voice was made for sentimental ballads, but with changing times, Ji Chen had faded from the spotlight.

Meanwhile, at the hotpot tables, conversation and laughter soon found common ground, and after a few bites, everyone relaxed and grew more lively.

…

“Oh my, we finally finished editing this,” the post-production editor groaned.

“What is this, really? If we didn’t have the sheet music, who would know what you were singing?”

“If it’s not working out, maybe try film instead. Why stick to singing?”

His comments startled those nearby.

“Don’t say that out loud. He’s the prince—do you still want this job?”

“I wouldn’t mind being fired; at least I wouldn’t have to fix his vocals anymore. Editing his songs is like piecing together lyrics with a robot’s algorithm,” the editor sighed, saving the recorded track. “At least we got it done before the first. Take it over.”

“Thanks, remember the confidentiality agreement—don’t leak anything.”

…

“Can this work? How long has it been since we requested the song? Barely a week?” Chen Nan’s manager stood behind him, eyeing the file Lin Ze had just sent with suspicion.

“I…” Chen Nan hesitated, cursor hovering over the folder.

“I asked if he wanted to revise it,” his manager said, “but he said since the day after tomorrow is June first, he thinks it’s the best day to release a song and compete in the charts…”

The manager opened his mouth, “It’s a bit arrogant, but… well, it is a bit arrogant.”

Chen Nan sighed and opened the folder. Humming along with the sheet music, his breathing grew rapid.

This song…

Lin Ze truly put his heart into it!

This is no leftover song!

This is me!

“Excellent! It’s a great song. I’ll record it in the next two days and launch it on the first!”

…

Lin Ze had nearly finished eating. Su Zitan ate slowly, so Lin Ze timed the ingredients in the pot and, when they were perfectly cooked, served them to her.

There was a floor-to-ceiling glass wall between the courtyard and the restaurant. Lin Ze interacted with the fans inside from time to time, most of whom were young men, each naughtier than the last.

One of them fogged up the glass, drew a small heart, and winked flirtatiously at Lin Ze.

“Lin, check your social media! Zhang Yang just declared war on you!” someone shouted from the restaurant.

“What?” Lin Ze opened his phone and checked.

“New song ‘Star and Moon Lovers’ coming soon! If mediocre singers are topping the charts, it can only mean one thing—I, Zhang Yang, haven’t released a song yet!”