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

Shenzhen, headquarters of Tencent Music.

Looking at the unprecedentedly large bullish candlestick on the screen, Ma Dongteng practically leaped off his boss's chair.

"Up 120%! Doubled in a single day!"

He ran around the desk three times, and on the fourth lap, his legs gave way, and he leaned on the corner of the desk, panting like an old dog.

Ten minutes ago he was drafting a bankruptcy liquidation agreement, and now this overwhelming wealth has fallen into his lap. The unrealized gains in his account are so much that he almost wants to call his CFO to help him count the zeros!

"Who is it?!"

He dialed Xu Qing's number, his voice cracking, "Who exactly is funding those three shady pools?"

Xu Qing was idly cracking sunflower seeds on the other end of the line.

"you guess."

"Xu Qing, you son of a bitch! What time is it and you're still playing riddles with me!"

"I told you, someone would contact you."

"Who contacted me? I haven't even received a single telemarketing call—"

Before he could finish speaking, the red landline on Ma Dongteng's desk rang.

He glanced at the caller ID.

Location: Beijing, Fourth Ring Road.

"Mr. Ma, right?"

On the other end of the phone, Butler Zhou's voice was neither humble nor arrogant, "I am Mr. Luo's butler from the Luo Group. Mr. Luo asked me to pass on a few words to you."

Ma Dongteng held the receiver, his whole being seemingly frozen in time.

"First, the Luoshi Group has completed its acquisition of 11.3% of the outstanding shares of Penguin Music. The subsequent legal documents will be formally submitted."

"Secondly, regarding today's transaction bill for Dark Pool, Mr. Luo said that you don't need to worry about the costs; they will be covered by the Luo family."

"third--"

Old Zhou paused for a second, cleared his throat, and perfectly replicated Luo Tianxiong's tone.

"Mr. Luo's exact words were: 'Tell that kid Ma Dongteng that I'm not standing up for him, it's those foreign devils who are blind and dared to threaten my family's livelihood. He doesn't need to worry about this, just let Xu Qing cook the braised pork.'"

beep--

The phone hangs up.

Ma Dongteng held the receiver, stunned for a full twenty seconds.

Luo's Group, Luo Tianxiong.

Luo Qianyu's biological father.

That living God of Wealth in the capital city rarely makes a move, but when he does, he can crush plates!

He suddenly remembered Xu Qing's casual remark last night—"Within three days, someone will contact you."

Did you already know that Luo Tianxiong would step in to save the market? What was the code for the braised pork?!

Ma Dongteng's hands were shaking like he had Parkinson's disease. He opened Xu Qing's WeChat and pressed the voice message button: "Xu Qing! I, Ma Dongteng, have been an entrepreneur for twelve years and have never backed down! Today, I'm kneeling before you! What kind of braised pork did you cook for them that made the richest man in Beijing throw out 10 billion US dollars to dump your assets?!"

Two seconds later, Xu Qing replied with four words.

"It's just too salty."

……

Beijing.

Xu Qing's apartment.

Luo Qianyu squatted on the sofa, munching on an apple, while news notifications popped up on her phone screen like crazy.

[Breaking News: Tencent Music's stock price surges 120% in a single day, with mysterious funds entering and forcing a short squeeze on Deep Sea Capital!]

[An epic short squeeze unfolds on Nasdaq, with all short positions held by DeepSea Capital wiped out!]

[Sources reveal: The bailout funds are suspected to have come from a top Asia-Pacific family conglomerate...]

Luo Qianyu's movements as she ate the apple became slower and slower.

Finally, everything froze completely.

She turned her head and stared intently at Xu Qing.

Xu Qing was slowly packing up his guitar case, exuding an arrogant calmness that seemed to say, "I told you we could just win by doing nothing."

Luo Qianyu slammed the apple onto the coffee table.

"Xu Qing."

"Um?"

"That so-called 'top Asia-Pacific family conglomerate'—"

What do you think?

Luo Qianyu's facial expressions began to change wildly.

Confusion, doubt, shock, and finally, complete collapse.

She suddenly sprang up from the sofa, grabbed Xu Qing by the collar, and yanked him down, making him bend over.

"When did you get in touch with my dad?!"

Xu Qing didn't struggle, letting her pull him along, looking down at her flushed face.

"Do you remember that 'distant cousin' who came over for a free meal last time?"

Luo Qianyu was dumbfounded.

When she finally realized what had happened, her first reaction wasn't to be touched at all, but to stomp her feet in anger.

Luo Qianyu angrily pinched his arm and shook it, but her eyes couldn't help but redden.

She buried her face in Xu Qing's chest, her voice muffled.

"Is my dad out of his mind? That's a billion dollars! Just for a bowl of braised pork for you?"

Xu Qing naturally put his arm around her waist, gently rested his chin on the top of her head, and spoke in a gentle tone.

"Your dad is shrewd. He just doesn't know how to say the words 'I care about you' to you."

Luo Qianyu sniffed heavily in his arms.

The setting sun shone through the broken plastic sheeting outside the window, casting a warm glow on the wooden planks that hadn't yet been replaced.

In the corner, the old guitar with a clownfish sticker lay quietly.

The aftershocks of the financial crisis are still creating huge waves across the ocean, but in this patched-up living room, the quiet is so comforting it warms the heart.

Xu Qing's phone vibrated again in his pocket.

It was a battle report sent by Ma Dongteng.

Deepsea Capital confirmed a loss of $43 billion on the same day! Marcus's son was urgently recalled to a hearing by the board, and the North American PR team completely collapsed! They've won too much!

Xu Qing glanced at it and then locked the screen.

I didn't mention it to Luo Qianyu.

Some numbers are so large that mentioning them would only ruin the atmosphere.

He simply lowered his head and gently kissed Luo Qianyu's crown of hair.

"Come with me to your home this weekend."

Luo Qianyu lifted her head from his embrace, her eyes still red like a rabbit's, but the corners of her mouth couldn't help but turn up.

"Shall we make braised pork?"

"Hmm, I'm making braised pork. This time, I'll use less salt."

The peace did not last forty-eight hours.

The next afternoon, Luo Qianyu was practicing her voice in the living room—after a follow-up examination by Dr. Lu, the swelling in her vocal cords had subsided considerably, and she was allowed to do 30 minutes of low-intensity vocal training every day.

Xu Qing sat on the folding chair next to her, tuning the guitar and occasionally correcting her breathing.

The courtyard gate was kicked open.

They weren't rioters, they were Hong Yan.

The director of "I Am a Singer" burst into the living room like a cannonball, without even changing his shoes, his coat half-hanging on, a file folder in his arms, and covered in sweat, looking like he had run all the way from the studio.

"Xu Qing!"

Xu Qing plucked the doorbell without even looking up: "There's a doorbell by the door, we can try that next time."

Hong Yan didn't bother with formalities, slammed the file bag on the coffee table, and panted for a long time while supporting himself on his knees.

Luo Qianyu poured a glass of water and handed it to Hong Yan. He took two gulps and finally calmed down.

"Something terrible has happened."

Xu Qing finally raised her head and glanced at him.

Hong Yan pulled a competition rules notice from the document bag and slapped it in front of Xu Qing.

"Next up is the Demon King's Challenge. The list of challengers was just finalized this afternoon."

Xu Qing glanced at the list.

He didn't recognize the first name.

The second one is the same.

The third one—

His fingers, which were plucking the strings, stopped.

Elena Vetrova.

Principal coloratura soprano of the Vienna State Opera.

The nuclear warhead of the opera world.

Last year, during her encore performance at La Scala in Milan, this woman filled the 3,200-seat theater with her raw voice alone, without using a microphone or amplifier.

Xu Qing turned the page of the notice.

The producer who assisted the challenger singer was listed with two words: Chen Che.

"Chen Che squeezed three days out of her European tour schedule and flew to Beijing specifically to challenge her."

Hong Yan's voice was deep, "Chen Che paid for all the airfare, accommodation, and performance fees out of his own pocket; the production team didn't contribute a single penny."

Xu Qing closed his guitar and leaned back in his chair.

"What about the song selection?"

Hong Yan hesitated for a moment.

This hesitation made Luo Qianyu's heart leap into her throat.

Hong Yan pulled out a thin A4 sheet of paper from the bottom of the file folder—it was a song registration form, which, according to regulations, needed to be submitted to the program team seventy-two hours in advance.

The track title field only contained one English word.

"Siren".

Siren.