Just because I wrote "Zhu Xian," the school beauty sent me razor blades.

October 1st, 10:00 AM.

Lin Yuan was woken up by his phone once again.

It wasn't an alarm clock, it was WeChat messages popping up intermittently, with occasional ding-dong notifications and vibrations.

He groggily reached for his phone and squinted at the screen.

WeChat Contacts: Add Friend Request × 10.

Lin Yuan's hand slipped, and he almost threw his phone away.

He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and clicked on the friend requests.

Article 1: [Hello, I am Chen Yanting from Xingtu Entertainment. I have long admired Mr. Lin Yuan and would like to discuss cooperation with you.]

Article 2: [Mr. Lin, I am Li Cheng from Feiyu Media. I apologize for bothering you, but I would like to invite you to visit our company.]

Article 3: [Hello Yuan Shen! I'm Wang Wei from the Operations Department of Tencent Music. I'd like to discuss a collaboration. Is that convenient?]

……

Lin Yuan fell silent.

He glanced at the ten friend requests and then scrolled through his WeChat message list.

In addition to the friend request, there were several other messages that had been sent through other channels.

The HR department of a listed company's music division sent an email with the subject line "A Sky-High Contract Offer - To Mr. Lin Yuan".

A well-known music producer sent me a private message on his personal account, expressing his earnest desire to request a song from me.

Lin Yuan put down his phone and yawned.

After "Suspended" topped the Star Chart in September, his status in the music industry did indeed rise. However, the speed and reach of these companies' responses still somewhat exceeded his expectations.

The final rankings were just released on September 30th, and today is October 1st, the first day of the National Day holiday. While everyone else is on holiday, these headhunters and business professionals are working harder than ordinary workers.

He didn't pass any of them.

It's not being pretentious.

Tianxing Entertainment really treated him well.

Fei Zhao signed him before he was famous, giving him a high degree of creative freedom and offering generous contract terms. More importantly, Fei Zhao is a person with vision; he never interferes with his creative direction and is never hesitant to provide resources when necessary.

One should not eat the meat in one bowl and then curse the cook in the next.

You absolutely cannot pick up your bowl to eat meat, and then take that bowl to someone else's house to eat even more meat.

Lin Yuan opened the chat window with Fei Zhao and started typing rapidly.

[Lin Yuan: Good morning, Sister Fei.]

Fei Zhao replied in less than a minute after the message was sent.

[Fei Zhao: It's getting late, it's already 10 o'clock.]

[Lin Yuan: I stayed up late last night.]

[Fei Zhao: Staying up all night writing songs?]

[Lin Yuan: Staying up all night watching anime.]

Fei Zhao: ...

Lin Yuan smiled and typed another line.

[Lin Yuan: By the way, Sister Fei, I have something to tell you. When I woke up this morning, I had ten new friend requests on my phone, all from various companies: Xingtu, Feiyu, Penguin Music… all trying to poach me. There were also emails with subject lines that sounded like gangster meetups.]

The other side remained silent for about ten seconds.

[Fei Zhao: And then?]

[Lin Yuan: And then I didn't get any of them approved.]

[Fei Zhao: Oh?]

[Lin Yuan: I, Lin Yuan, am with Tianxing. Sister Fei protects me, and Tianxing treats me well. I have principles. I didn't even look at the offers those companies made; I ignored them completely. For Sister Fei's sake, I resisted the temptation. Aren't you touched?]

The other side remained silent for a few more seconds.

[Fei Zhao: So you're telling me all this so I'll give you a raise?]

[Lin Yuan: Sister Fei, do I look like that kind of person?]

[Fei Zhao: Resembles.]

Lin Yuan: ...Okay, a little bit. But mainly I just want to reassure you that the person you signed won't run away.

[Fei Zhao: Don't worry, you can't escape. It's clearly written in the contract; the penalty for breach of contract is enough for you to write a hundred poems about drowning.]

Lin Yuan: How ruthless.

[Lin Yuan: Oh, right, Sister Fei, there's one more thing. I plan to take a break in October, so I won't be participating in the Nebula Ranking.]

[Fei Zhao: Not participating? Just won the September championship and now he's taking a break?]

[Lin Yuan: I mainly want to take some time to reflect.]

[Fei Zhao: Have you thought it through?]

Lin Yuan: I've made up my mind.

[Fei Zhao: Okay, as long as you know what you're doing.]

[Lin Yuan: Thank you, Sister Fei. Happy National Day, Sister Fei.]

[Fei Zhao: You too.]

Lin Yuan closed the chat window, thought for a moment, and then opened Weibo.

He edited a post.

Happy National Day, everyone! To prepare for creating even better works in the future, I'll be taking a break for a while, so I won't be participating in the October Nebula Awards. Thank you to everyone who has supported me; see you on the next stage!

release.

The comments section quickly became lively.

[Drowning Alliance 001: Happy National Day, Yuan Shen! Rest is fine, your health is important! But what about your songs!]

[What will Lin Yuan eat today: Waaaaah, I'm so sad to see you go, but I support you! Get some rest! We'll be waiting for you to come back and continue your ascension to godhood!]

[A late-stage patient suffering from suspense addiction: Not participating in October? Does that mean there's no one left to compete in the October Nebula Rankings? With Abyss God gone, the ranks are leaderless!]

[Music blogger Lao Zhang: Lin Yuan is really smart; he won the championship in September and then gracefully withdrew in October.]

[An anonymous netizen: Taking a break? Do you guys believe that? I think he's most likely hiding at home secretly writing a new song.]

Lin Yuan scrolled through a few comments, smiled, and turned off his phone.

The sunlight outside the window is just right.

Jiang Wanqing's voice came from downstairs: "Xiaoyuan, are you up? Breakfast is ready: soy milk, fried dough sticks, and steamed buns your dad just bought."

"They're here!"

Lin Yuan pulled his slippers out of the room.

For the first three days of National Day, Lin Yuan lived the life of a retired senior cadre.

During the day, he played chess with Lin Liguo—winning three games in a row and utterly defeating his own father, which angered Lin Liguo to the point that he almost took out the Seven Wolves chess set.

In the afternoon, I helped Jiang Wanqing pick vegetables and peel garlic, and while doing so, I secretly ate a few pieces of braised pork. I was caught on the spot and was directly rewarded with a full set of housework during the National Day holiday.

The family sat in the living room watching TV in the evening.

Watching TV almost caused Lin Yuan to suffer a workplace injury.

Jiang Wanqing held the remote control in her hand, browsed the channel list, and finally locked onto a currently airing TV series.

"This game, 'Thunder Warrior,' is quite popular lately, and I hear it has good reviews. Want to check it out?"

Lin Yuan glanced at the screen.

In the scene, several young men dressed in Nationalist Army uniforms are standing on the hilltop, looking dashing. Their uniforms are crisp and their faces are handsome. Each of them has a perfectly styled haircut, with even more hair gel than when Zhou Zixuan went out on a date.

Lin Yuan's brow twitched slightly.

"Mom, what era is this drama from?"

"Anti-Japanese War drama," Jiang Wanqing said matter-of-factly.

"Anti-Japanese War drama." Lin Yuan repeated the two words, his gaze returning to the screen.

He decided to put up with it.

Maybe things will get better later.

Ten minutes later.

He couldn't take it anymore.

In the scene, the main characters weave through a hail of bullets, their formation in disarray, as if the enemy's bullets have eyes and deliberately avoid them.

"What kind of battle is this?" Lin Liguo, watching from the side, couldn't help but ask, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper. "Are the enemy the Japanese or just sparring partners?"

The second male lead is even more peculiar—an officer who claims to be a "tactical genius."

Outside, artillery fire raged. He sat in the command post, a steaming cup of coffee on the table before him. He elegantly picked up the cup, took a sip, frowned, and said to his adjutant beside him, "Too much sugar."

Lin Yuan: "..."

Lin Liguo: "..."

This is not the most outrageous.

The hero's troops were suppressed. He looked at his fallen comrades, took out a cigar from the trench, slowly lit it, took a deep drag, and exhaled a smoke ring into the smoke-filled battlefield.

Jiang Wanqing was also stunned, and silently looked at the father and son.

"This...is it a bit..." She carefully considered her words.

"Mom, it's not just a little," Lin Yuan said expressionlessly, "it's quite a lot."

He continued reading.

Because of his professional habits, as a directing student, he always couldn't help but dissect everything in front of him from the perspectives of camera language, character development, and narrative logic.

Then he became more and more distraught as he dismantled the structure.

After winning the battle, the main characters checked into a luxurious villa.

Yes.

During the War of Resistance against Japan.

The main characters live in a villa.

The curtains were velvet, fresh flowers adorned the table, and the floor was so polished it reflected your image. The main characters, dressed in clean military uniforms, discussed tactics in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, the setting sun casting its golden rays upon their perfect profiles—a truly beautiful scene.

But Lin Yuan only felt his head was splitting open.

"Dad." His voice was eerily calm.

"Um?"

Do you know what kind of housing the soldiers who fought in the War of Resistance against Japan actually lived in during that war?

Lin Liguo put down his teacup, his expression turning serious.

"They lived in mud-walled, thatched-roof houses, mud-brick dwellings that let in the wind in winter and the rain in summer," Lin Yuan said, emphasizing each word. "They ate coarse grains and pickled vegetables, wore clothes patched all over, and many didn't even have a complete pair of shoes. They weren't young masters living in villas, drinking coffee and discussing tactics; they were ordinary people risking their lives."

He pointed to the meticulously styled main characters on the screen: "These people aren't acting in a war drama; they're just idol drama actors wearing military uniforms."

"The screenwriter probably thinks that the audience likes to watch this." Lin Liguo sighed.

"What the audience likes to watch and what we should film are two different things." Lin Yuan's tone was calm, but his eyes shone. "You can make it entertaining, you can make it exciting, but you can't make it outrageous. The martyrs of the War of Resistance Against Japan sacrificed their lives, not so that future generations could turn them into idol drama male leads."

Jiang Wanqing couldn't stand it anymore and silently changed the channel.

Lin Yuan leaned back on the sofa and rubbed his temples.

"There are too many shows like this now," Lin Liguo said, taking a sip of tea. "All sorts of anti-Japanese war heroes, hand-to-hand combat with Japanese soldiers... Sometimes I don't even want to watch TV anymore."

"It's not a problem with the war dramas themselves," Lin Yuan said, closing his eyes. "It's that the people making them lacked reverence."

The living room was quiet for a while.

Lin Yuan suddenly opened his eyes.

He stared at the ceiling, his gaze slowly becoming focused.

"dad."

"Um?"

"Do you think anyone would watch a movie that doesn't depict the gunfire of battle or the heroic sacrifices of heroes, but instead focuses on the unsung heroes—those who dedicate their lives behind the scenes, perhaps without even leaving their names behind?"

Lin Liguo glanced at him.

You mean…

"There's more than one way to be patriotic." Lin Yuan sat up straight, his eyes growing brighter. "Patriotism isn't just about grand sacrifices. Some people never see a battle, but what they do is equally important in protecting this country."

"I want to make a movie."

Lin Yuan's tone suddenly became serious.

"If we start preparing now, scriptwriting, casting, filming, post-production... if we can get it done quickly, it can be released on the first day of the Lunar New Year."

"The first day of the Lunar New Year?" Lin Liguo was somewhat surprised. "That's only three months away."

"That's enough." Lin Yuan's eyes were full of certainty. "The key isn't time, it's the story."

He stood up and walked to the window.

The October sun shone in and fell on his face, warm and comforting.

Some stories deserve to be told.

Some names deserve to be remembered.

"It's not presented as a heroic anti-Japanese war story, nor as an idol drama."

"But in the way they truly lived."

Looking at his son's retreating figure, Lin Liguo suddenly realized that he had grown up.