Chapter 205: The New Generation Main Force That Rose To Fame In One Battle
“What did you withdraw?”
Yu Wei was writing when he suddenly saw the picture sent by Shen Yutong. He clicked to view it, only to find that she had already withdrawn it.
“Nothing, accidental touch, irrelevant.”
That’s good, I thought I missed something important…
Yu Wei then continued writing. Time waits for no one; first get the song in hand, and deal with what comes later step by step.
Actually, Shen Yutong wasn’t lying; she really just sent an irrelevant sticker pack and then withdrew it, with the purpose of teasing her best friend.
As for the real photo, she definitely wouldn’t send it. Candidly photographing a friend and sending it to others? That’s pretty creepy.
Don’t look at how they roast each other daily; they have a dead-accurate grasp on the boundaries of jokes.
After teasing each other for a while, both were ready to sleep, but then they saw Yu Wei’s new chapter again. This time, however, it wasn’t suspense, but an entertainment novel.
Yu Wei still hasn’t slept…
Qi Luo An and Shen Yutong didn’t hesitate at all, nearly synchronously opening the novel. Yu Wei updating at this time clearly meant showcasing the new song.
[When the passionate prelude of “Red Sun” rang out, Kezong took a deep breath, gripped the microphone tightly, and sang the first line.
“Destiny may be bumpy and displaced
Destiny may be twisted and bizarre.”
The restless anticipation in the audience seats was instantly soothed by this unexpected sense of power, replaced by an immersive listening.
The stage lights shifted with the accelerating rhythm, red beams flickering like flames.
Sweat seeped from Kezong’s forehead, his white shirt soaked and clinging to his back, but he paid it no mind.]
“Oh my Kezong…”
Isn’t Kezong Cthulhu? Cthulhu coming to participate in the program and sing for the audience? Can everyone still live then?
Actually, Yu Wei was writing about Li Keqin.
But Blue Star readers obviously didn’t know this person, thinking Yu Wei was high; he wasn’t satisfied with writing native characters anymore and was preparing to write something indescribable.
Stars are one thing, clearly playing with memes to trick comments, but now Kezong is here—what’s next, Ultraman vs. Iron Man?
Qi Luo An didn’t mind these mischievous tastes, so the new song Yu Wei planned to sing this time was this “Red Sun”?
The song title didn’t reveal the style, but from the simple two lines of lyrics, this should be an inspirational song.
Singing inspirational songs on this stage was extremely fitting, plus Yu Wei had always been tagged as a positive energy singer, which was quite a distinct personal style.
But he didn’t seem to use Xiao Chen’s insider information…
Whatever, if not used, then not. Song selection can’t be perfect; one song can’t cover all styles.
Early the next morning, Yu Wei got into the organizer’s business car. Liu Ning had been waiting in the car for a while and seriously asked him upon meeting if the song selection was finalized.
She actually didn’t read Yu Wei’s novel; it was the company that discovered it and contacted her, so she learned Yu Wei planned to sing that “Red Sun.”
Yu Wei’s novel was of great importance; the company actually had people monitoring it—not surveillance, just risk assessment and prevention.
Every thing has pros and cons; while Yu Wei’s book gained massive attention, it was also a huge hidden danger with considerable risk.
Why there are far fewer so-called Heavenly Kings and superstars in this era: the internet is too developed, and artists’ paths to fame are basically transparent.
Previous Heavenly Kings and superstars wouldn’t hold up under scrutiny, but information was blocked back then, and everyone emphasized “judge by actions, not heart.”
But now it’s different; actions are completely transparent. Unable to judge by actions, people judge by heart; stars perform under a microscope.
It’s not that current stars like packaging and personas; they can’t survive without it. People’s hearts can’t withstand tests; those claiming authenticity cool off faster than anyone.
Novels are mappings of one’s thoughts; Yu Wei’s novel is essentially dissecting his ideas for everyone to see—one misstep leads to eternal damnation.
Not just the company watching; anyone with benefit ties to Yu Wei would watch this book, fearing risky content in new chapters.
Fortunately, Yu Wei had been writing about the competition lately; the scenes were relatively uniform, unlikely to spawn inexplicable controversies.
“It’s finalized as this one.”
“Red Sun” had a passionate melody and inspirational lyrics, undoubtedly very suitable for this stage. As for the so-called internationalization, it was just a shot in the dark.
The original was Sakura’s popular single “Sore Ga Daisuki,” which garnered widespread attention at the time, with cumulative single sales ranking fourth in Sakura history—pretty high gold content.
The melody of “Red Sun” was unbelievably strong; when Yu Wei was just starting to remember things, he could hum it upon hearing the song—strong rhythm, highly catchy.
Even with time passed, the song’s reception shouldn’t be bad.
“Good if you’re confident.”
Liu Ning didn’t understand music, but she trusted Yu Wei. After over a decade as an agent without much success, being propelled by Yu Wei at the end of her career, she naturally trusted him immensely.
“Today’s rehearsal focuses on stage positioning and lights debugging; the chief of the Hong Kong Strings will also be present.”
Yu Wei nodded; he knew this concert was not just about the performance but an important industry socializing occasion, with no shortage of big shots on site.
The concert hall’s underground parking had many staff busy; Liu Ning got out first to coordinate with staff, while Yu Wei tidied up briefly to appear in his best state.
After all, it was a formal occasion; image management was important.
They entered backstage via the cast and crew channel; Liu Ning reported to the stage supervisor and signed the rehearsal attendance confirmation.
Yu Wei was guided to the exclusive lounge, with a name tag for him on the door—this was the organizer’s basic courtesy to important artists.
The concert site likely had no more than ten exclusive lounges, all for veteran artists and top stream artists; for Yu Wei at his age to be one of them was quite impressive.
Actually, by seniority he didn’t qualify, and his fame was still a bit short; getting in was probably due to recent influence and higher-ups’ emphasis.
After all, he had a mission this time…
Yu Wei had just sat down when a crisp knock sounded at the lounge door. “Teacher Yu, just arrived?”
This was the downside of exclusive lounges: name on the door meant many visitors—some worth connecting with, others uninvited guests.
There was still time before rehearsal; the organizer naturally wouldn’t interfere with backstage socializing then.
“Hello.”
Yu Wei stood to open the door himself. He recognized the visitor: Gu Ningyue, a first-tier actor, part of the 85 flowers batch with Su Xinnan.
Rumor had it they had beef; she was probably here to throw stones at him while down.
Contemporaries get compared endlessly by fans and passersby; over time, grudges form—fans trash-talk too much, and the mains end up disliking each other. It’s common.
Seeing Gu Ningyue enter, Yu Wei simply left the door wide open, avoiding gossip.
In the entertainment industry, you can’t be too careful; hearts are separated by flesh and skin.
Gu Ningyue had witnessed Yu Wei opening the door fully, but she said nothing; she’d do the same.
“Just finished recording a program and came over? Quite a full schedule.”
Skipping acting to pivot to programs? Seeing her rival not invited, she could barely suppress her smirk…
“I’m fine; young people can handle the hustle. Teacher Meng and Sister Nan probably need two days’ rest.”
Yu Wei didn’t want to waste time with her, directly steering the topic to her. If she wanted to diss Nan, get on with it; he was eager to write, and rehearsal would leave no time.
Of course she wasn’t here idly gossiping; she clearly wanted to probe his relationship with Sister Nan—let her try.
“Nannan, her health is really declining; better spend time on exercise than beauty shots…”
Gu Ningyue’s words were venomous, striking vital points right away.
Compared to her, Chi Leying and Tong Yulu were child’s play; versus the young generation’s minor squabbles, veteran artists struck harder.
“Where is she? Not here yet?”
Deliberate, very sneaky.
Gu Ningyue knew best whether Sister Nan was coming—this was asking despite knowing, forcing him to say it outright. Sneaky.
“Uh, Sister Nan doesn’t like crowded occasions.”
Yu Wei didn’t want to be the bad guy; Sister Nan was nice, and they had some colleague camaraderie—no need to gossip behind her back.
“True.”
Gu Ningyue seemed to have gotten the result she wanted and didn’t press, but her biggest worry had still happened.
Su Xinnan had been on a downward slope these two years—music she was happy to see. Actors wouldn’t do music variety shows if they could get roles…
But this Yu Wei kid seemed on good terms with Su Xinnan; if he pulled some stunt to prop her up, that’d be trouble.
Though Yu Wei had no precedent of propping up elders yet, you had to guard against it.
Young generation’s minor squabbles could be overlooked, but those with some seniority like them? Deep entanglements everywhere.
Thinking one novel could conquer the world was too naive.
Just as she planned to “advise” Yu Wei, slow footsteps approached the door.
Yu Wei glanced up casually and spotted a passing unfamiliar figure; he was slightly stunned—he’d seen her photo before.
Chen Jinyi wore a light apricot off-shoulder knit shirt, perfectly showcasing her elegant shoulder and neck lines.
Paired below with simple black straight-leg trousers, the overall look was neither too casual nor formal, yet exuded a natural poise.
This was what you call styling; compared to her, Qi Luo An was a heretic—zero inheritance of dressing style?
What surprised Yu Wei most was her appearance; her encyclopedia photo was from twenty years ago, but now her looks seemed unchanged.
Her skin remained taut and delicate, facial lines sharp and defined, jet-black long hair simply pinned up, a few loose strands adding casual charm.
Her brows resembled Qi Luo An’s somewhat, but warmer and gentler, lacking some playfulness and liveliness.
“Xiao Yue, this is…”
Chen Jinyi instantly understood the situation; her gaze lingered briefly on Yu Wei, then shifted to Gu Ningyue beside him.
She was from ’83, two years older, so calling her Xiao Yue was fine.
Gu Ningyue instinctively sat up from the sofa; though same age group, she didn’t dare slight her.
“Just chatting idly with Yu Wei. Since I’m here, gotta meet the new generation mainstay who rose to fame in one battle.”
Her words sounded polite, but “rose to fame in one battle” clearly held malice—who did Yu Wei’s one-battle fame beat?
Fan the flames, huh!
“Judging by seniority isn’t wise. This is a concert; in the music field, you’re the new generation compared to him.”
Chen Jinyi wasn’t fazed; if Yu Wei the party mentioned it, she might be awkward, but outsiders bringing it up just annoyed her.
Especially laymen from other fields.
Understand music to pontificate? Assuming things?
Gu Ningyue was good at reading the air, promptly going out to affectionately link arms with Chen Jinyi, saying they should catch up.
Trouble at Yu Wei’s door aplenty—time to bail!
“Better catching up with me than making others uncomfortable.”
Chen Jinyi teased jokingly, smoothly leaving with her, but gave Yu Wei a meaningful glance before going.
No direct contact, but this kid was sharp; his mobile phone seemed to still be recording…
Having wits in the entertainment industry is good, but so sharp—her silly daughter might get coaxed into a fool.
