Chapter Thirty-One: At the Corner Café

Perhaps the performance artist was truly exhausted, or perhaps he was grasping at straws—he actually placed a sliver of hope in Ren Qian.

"I am Hong Tao, head of the editorial department at Jiangnan Television. Lately, I've been mulling over an incomplete idea. I believe this program could achieve phenomenal ratings, but each time I almost catch hold of it, it slips away again. It's terribly frustrating."

Hong Tao scratched his greasy, grimy hair. Ren Qian quickly dragged his suitcase and took a step back—snow was about to fall, and who knew how long it had been since Hong Tao last washed his hair? The man reeked, his whole body carrying the scent of performance art; how could anyone not shy away from him?

"The idea is this: I want to gather a group of people to compete on stage. They could sing, they could dance, or perform comedic sketches. But how should I arrange it? How do I balance these forms, decide which should take precedence… It's so vexing!"

Hong Tao thought it was a worthwhile concept.

However—

Dance battles seemed promising, inviting grassroots dancers to showcase their skills; comedic sketches could be a hit, and singing would surely boost ratings. But then the dilemma arose—which one to choose among the three?

Ren Qian raised an eyebrow. Despite Hong Tao's muddled explanation, he caught the core: competition.

Where there’s competition, there’s suspense; suspense breeds tension, and tension captivates the audience, keeping them glued to their screens, watching with relish.

Yet Hong Tao’s confusion stemmed from wanting too much: dance battles, comedy sketches, singing—he craved it all. This not only prevented him from calmly reflecting on the essence of his idea, but blinded him, leaving him at a loss as to where to begin.

It was the classic case of biting off more than one can chew.

"Mm… Your idea is innovative. But you should learn to focus on a single point and dig deep from there.

For instance, if you want to create a dance battle program, first clarify its nature!

Is it a performance, or a competition?

Personally, I think having guests compete is better than simply inviting them to perform.

Because competition brings suspense and conflict, making it far more engaging.

If the show is competitive, then you must invite at least six top dancers as contestants.

Make sure these contestants are diverse; ideally, invite two dancers with strong minority styles, two Han Chinese dance masters, and perhaps even some foreign dance experts. Let the audience experience exotic flair—this is what draws eyes.

If you opt for singing, likewise invite at least six well-known singers. Ensure they have a solid fan base, so their participation lends credibility to the show and piques others’ interest.

Then let them compete, determining winners and losers."

Whether it’s dance battles or singing competitions, you can incorporate elimination—each round, eliminate one person or group based on overall performance, then bring in other guests to join the contest…

Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Hong Tao was stunned—like a statue. He truly was shocked. Ren Qian’s words seemed to open a door before him, unprecedented insight crashing over his ingrained thinking like a tidal wave.

It was no surprise; at this time in the Empire, there was no "I Am a Singer," no "Run, Brothers," no "Where Are We Going, Dad?", nor "If You Are the One"…

The forward-thinking nature of Ren Qian’s suggestions was undeniable.

"I’ve grasped something… It’s like a revelation, suddenly giving me two solid ideas!

Following your advice,

I could plan a dance competition called 'I Am the King of Dance,' or a show called 'I Am a Singer.'

Both would take the premium route, featuring big-name celebrities competing, or stars with distinctive styles going head-to-head with household names.

Add elimination, build tension, weed out less popular stars, bring the fan favorites to the finale, and crown the dance king or singing king! A brilliant idea, truly brilliant! The real experts are among the people!"

Hong Tao was beside himself with excitement. He had agonized for nearly a month, but the guidance from this young man in less than ten minutes surpassed all his efforts. He felt ashamed, but even more, he was thrilled.

"I will remember this favor. If you ever need anything, just ask—I’ll do everything in my power to help!"

Hong Tao laughed heartily, speaking with genuine sincerity.

Ren Qian was taken aback. He had only wanted to avoid being looked down upon by this eccentric performance artist, never expecting to inadvertently earn a favor.

And judging by Hong Tao’s flushed face, his ideas were already drifting toward 'I Am a Singer.' Could he really pioneer the Empire’s version of that show?

Highly likely.

In the Celestial Empire, Hunan TV’s 'I Am a Singer' became a tremendous hit, breaking ratings records and launching singers into stardom. Anyone who appeared on the show found it hard not to be famous for a while!

In his previous life, Ren Qian had dreamed of being invited, but as an aging, unattractive, overweight singer among countless others, the production team never considered him.

Now, however, he was the one who inspired the producers… The benefits were beyond measure!

Yet Ren Qian had no intention of exposing his selfish motives. Requesting someone to help is fundamentally different from others offering their assistance voluntarily. The former makes people subconsciously feel they’ve repaid what they owe; the latter fosters deeper cooperation and mutual support.

"I hope you don’t let this idea go to waste. If your show becomes a hit, I’ll be proud to say I contributed. Ha ha."

Ren Qian laughed, dragging his suitcase away, leaving Hong Tao deep in thought. It wasn’t until nightfall that Hong Tao slapped his forehead in realization.

"Eh? Where’s that young man? He left so quickly—didn’t even leave his name…"

But he remembered that face.

…

As dusk approached, Ren Qian and his nurse sister arrived at a newly opened café at the South Gate. Their first time drinking coffee together had been on North Street.

Now it was the South Gate, and the café here should really be called a coffee lounge—the place was much grander than the one at the North Gate. There was live music too, melodies lingering in the air, blending with the intoxicating aroma of the coffee, creating a charming, bourgeois atmosphere.

He gently wrapped his arm around the nurse’s slender waist, catching the blush on her cheeks out of the corner of his eye. It was certainly not from the cold wind, but from shyness.

Her dimples were truly enchanting. Ren Qian didn’t know why, but those dimples were like heart-devouring black holes—one glance and he was lost, unable to shake them from his mind. Unable to forget, he recalled them again and again, as if caught in a waking dream.

"Your dimples are beautiful—I suddenly want to sing for you. Let’s go inside and talk to the manager, borrow their band for a bit. I hope you’ll like it."

"Mm~ I love your songs, always. Ha ha, I was just thinking recently about locking you up in a little dark room and making you my personal singing slave."

"Then why did you leave before finishing 'Lingering Regret' last time? If I recall, someone was quite jealous then."

Ren Qian lightly tapped his smooth, jade-like nose, teasing her. The nurse tried to stay composed, breaking free from Ren Qian’s hand, quickly walking over to a nearby seat, plopping down, her feet swinging leisurely.

"There’s quite a variety of coffee here~"

Ren Qian: "…"

She really knew how to change the subject.