Entertainment: A song that brought his deceased wife back to life.

The celebration banquet was held at a private kitchen club that Ma Dongteng had booked the entire floor of. The food lasted from 7 p.m. to 11 p.m., and the drinks went from white wine to red wine and back to white wine.

Luo Qianyu drank two glasses and then collapsed on the table. Xu Qing had to take a taxi and carry her home.

1:04 AM.

Xu Qing put Luo Qianyu on the bed, took off her shoes, and pulled the blanket up for her.

Luo Qianyu rolled over, mumbled something, something like "another cup," and then fell completely silent.

Xu Qing sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her.

Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains, falling on Luo Qianyu's profile.

She was very quiet when she slept, her mouth slightly open, her hair messy and spread out on the pillow, and the lingering feeling of laughing so hard at the victory banquet still remained on her face.

Xu Qing stared at it for a long time.

Then he stood up and went to the living room.

The balcony door wasn't closed properly, and the night wind blew in through the cracks, chilling my forearm.

Xu Qing leaned against the balcony door frame, took out the last can of Coke from the refrigerator, and popped the tab open with a "pop". He took a sip and didn't turn on the light.

The phone was on the coffee table, and the screen was still lit.

He didn't reply to the message Ma Dongteng sent in the afternoon.

Deep Sea Capital's North American channels have begun to exert full pressure, and Billboard is working on removing Mingyue Qingfeng from the company. Their message is clear—as long as Mingyue Qingfeng remains active, the suppression will not stop.

Xu Qing placed the cola on the windowsill, and the water droplets that had condensed on the can slid down and made a small puddle.

He opened his phone's notes app and scrolled to a line of text.

I wrote this three days ago.

"She has to fly on her own."

Below the memo is a message I sent to Hong Yan this afternoon. I've read it, and he replied with a single word: "Okay."

-

The next day, in the evening.

Luo Qianyu was stirring the wok in the kitchen, making a tomato and egg dish and a plate of braised shrimp.

"Xu Qing, dinner's ready."

Xu Qing came out of the study and sat down at the dining table.

Luo Qianyu arranged the dishes and served him a bowl of rice.

"I added some minced garlic to this shrimp today, please try it."

Xu Qing picked up a shrimp, peeled it, and chewed it a couple of times.

"How was it?" Luo Qianyu rested her chin on her hands, eagerly awaiting the evaluation.

"tasty."

"Then eat more—"

Let's break up.

Luo Qianyu's chopsticks stopped in mid-air.

The air at the dining table suddenly froze.

The braised prawns were still steaming in the plate, and Xu Qing had only taken two bites of her rice.

"...What did you say?"

I said let's break up.

Luo Qianyu's hands began to tremble.

The tremor started from his fingertips and continued down to his wrist. The chopsticks fell to the table with a "clatter," bounced once, and rolled to the edge of the plate.

"Xu Qing, say it again."

Her voice was very calm, but her eyes were already red.

Xu Qing looked at her, but didn't repeat it a third time.

Under the table, the hand he placed on his knee slowly clenched.

Luo Qianyu suddenly stood up, her chair jerked backward, and her leg hit the corner of the table, but she didn't feel any pain.

Are you annoyed with me?

"no."

"So you think I sang badly? You think I embarrassed you?"

"no."

"Then what do you mean?" Luo Qianyu slammed her hand on the table, making the bowl jump. "Tell me what I didn't do well enough. Say something, Xu Qing."

Tears welled up in her eyes.

Luo Qianyu cried harder and harder, and finally grabbed the tissue box on the table and threw it at Xu Qing.

Xu Qing tilted his head slightly, and the tissue box flew past his ear, hitting the wall and bouncing twice.

"Your accuracy hasn't improved at all."

"Shut up."

Luo Qianyu walked around the table to him, grabbed his collar with both hands, and pulled him up from the chair.

The movements were fierce, but the strength was actually not that great.

Xu Qing let her pull him, then stood up and looked down at her.

Luo Qianyu looked up at him, her face streaked with tears, her nose bright red, and her lips trembling.

"Xu Qing, you're a bastard."

"Um."

"You're a liar."

"Um."

"You said I was number one by a wide margin."

"And it is now."

"Then what makes you think we should break up?"

Xu Qing reached out and pulled her into his arms.

Luo Qianyu struggled twice but couldn't break free, so she simply buried her face in his chest and bumped it hard twice.

"Let go of me."

"Not loose."

"Relax."

"Look at something first."

Xu Qing took two envelopes out of his pocket with one hand and held them up in front of her.

Luo Qianyu's vision was blurred by tears, and she blinked several times before she could see the words on the envelope.

Invitation letter for the first singers of the 12th season of "I Am a Singer".

Two portions.

A document labeled "Bluebird".

A document labeled "Flying Fish".

Luo Qianyu's body stiffened.

She wiped her face haphazardly with the back of her hand, grabbed the two envelopes, and turned them over and over several times.

"What does this mean?"

"It means—" Xu Qing looked down at her, "You're competing as an independent singer. So am I. We'll go on stage separately, each performing our own act."

Luo Qianyu stood there, stunned.

"Deep Sea Capital is eyeing Mingyue Qingfeng. As long as I'm tied to you, their knife will always be at your throat."

Xu Qing tucked her messy, bird's nest-like hair behind her ear.

"You need to let the whole world know that Luo Qianyu is not Xu Qing's appendage. You are yourself."

Luo Qianyu kept her head down, her shoulders still trembling.

A while later.

"So when you say 'separate,' you mean separate matches?"

"Um."

"Not a breakup?"

"What's going on in your head?"

Luo Qianyu let out a soft "woof" and buried her face back in his chest.

I cried for five seconds.

Then he raised his head and bit Xu Qing's shoulder hard.

Xu Qing winced in pain: "Are you a dog?"

"You deserve it. Couldn't you have taken the envelope out first before talking about breaking up? Were you trying to scare me? Did you find it funny to see me cry?"

"I hadn't even finished speaking when you—"

"Shut up."

Luo Qianyu opened her mouth, looked down at her masterpiece, and saw a clear ring of teeth marks on the fabric of her shirt.

She felt absolutely no guilt.

"I'm going to beat you to a pulp on stage."

Xu Qing rubbed the spot where he had been bitten and bared his teeth.

"Finish your meal first before you say those harsh words; it will make you seem more confident."

Luo Qianyu glared at him, then obediently returned to the dining table, sat down, picked up her bowl, and began to eat.

He was sniffling while eating.

Rice mixed with tears probably doesn't taste very good.

Xu Qing sat down opposite her and peeled shrimp for her as usual, then put the peeled shrimp in her bowl.

Luo Qianyu stared at the shrimp meat in the bowl, and her nose tingled with emotion again.

"Xu Qing."

"Um."

"If you let me win on purpose, I won't let you off the hook."

"Don't worry." Xu Qing tossed the shrimp shells into the dish. "I won't let you have them."

"What I want is to confront you head-on."

"Then you should practice your singing."

Luo Qianyu stuffed the shrimp into her mouth, chewed it a couple of times, her cheeks bulging, and opened her mouth in a muffled manner.

"Once I beat you, you have to call me Teacher Luo in front of the whole nation."

Xu Qing smiled slightly as he watched her start shouting while her nose was still red.

"OK."

"Keep your word."

"Keep your word."

Luo Qianyu was satisfied and buried her head in her food, eating much faster than before.

The tomato and egg dish on the table had gone cold, and the braised prawns weren't hot anymore.

But when the meal was over, Luo Qianyu's eyes were shining.

-

Late that night.

Penguin Music headquarters, CEO's office.

Ma Dongteng was preparing to shut down his computer and leave work.

The landline on the table rang.

He glanced at the caller ID—an international call, with the US country code.

"Feed?"

A man's voice came from the other end, mostly in English, interspersed with a few strangely pronounced Chinese words.

"Hello, are you Mr. Ma? My name is... Adam."

Ma Dongteng stopped picking up his water glass.

Adam.

Global record sales exceed 300 million copies. Seven Grammy Awards, two BRIT Awards. A living legend in the rock music scene.

"I'd like to ask..." Adam's Chinese was halting and heavily accented, "What's the format of that Chinese show, 'Wo Shi Ge Shou'?"

Ma Dongteng held the microphone, remaining silent for a long time.

"I heard..." Adam paused, then switched to fluent English, "that there's a masked Eastern genius on that show. I'm very interested in him."

Ma Dongteng put down the water glass.

"Sir, what is the meaning of this phone call?"

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone, then Adam laughed.

I want to go to China.