Chapter Fifty-Eight: The Greater the Challenge, the Greater the Pleasure

The first lottery ticket from “The Reckless Hero” failed to win a luxury mansion, so Ren Qian quietly pulled his nurse sister away and left. He forced the pace, refusing to join the group when all his teammates had died, making a lightning-fast escape without looking back. If he didn’t leave now, when would he? This was his true mindset at the moment. As for buying a house, he’d wait ten days or so. Better to lay low for a while—even if that burly fellow waited for him at the “Grand River City” sales center, he wouldn’t wait ten days! If things really got tough, Ren Qian could buy a house in a more remote area. Jiangnan City was vast; as long as he had money, nowhere was out of reach.

The year had just begun. In recent years, nearly ninety percent of singers saw their album sales plummet, and the industry was in decline, lamenting the downfall of the record business. Even the superstars were anxious. Ren Qian’s father-in-law’s astonishing sales made some singers jealous and restless, but rigorous data analysis by the companies poured cold water on their hopes. Lin Ruowan’s legendary success could not be replicated! Now, aside from two reigning divas, all other singers faced the problem of lackluster reception for their work.

But big-name singers had nothing to fear. They already had a substantial fan base; even if their recent works weren’t well received, they could maintain their popularity by continually holding concerts, stirring nostalgia, performing their signature songs from past years, and promoting new tracks alongside. This strategy kept the momentum going.

Second-tier and faded stars were anxious. Without strong works, they could only be gradually forgotten amid fierce competition, so they tried every trick to retain their popularity. Wei Bo acted cute, flaunted his physique, and created scandals—all just to secure a pitifully small amount of screen time. Yet excessive hype could trigger public resentment. Second-tier singers were truly caught between a rock and a hard place.

Ren Qian’s public image was ambiguous—neither a top-tier singer nor a behind-the-scenes producer. Talented, yet an awkward rookie and a pioneering figure of a new genre. Because he rarely appeared in the public eye, his image was vague. The persona he wished to craft was that of a transcendent, gifted artist unconcerned with fame and fortune. For example, Li Jian, who stayed out of the spotlight but had many hit songs, or Liao Fan, the film emperor who seldom attended variety shows or gave interviews, yet remained unforgettable through his superb performances in high-quality films.

Both personas were rather pretentious—but Ren Qian had the ability to pull it off. He didn’t want to accept frequent invitations or show his face everywhere; otherwise, he could attend a show every day—there were plenty of small TV stations inviting him.

As the saying goes, a good actor only accepts good scripts. After appearing once on “Day Day Up,” he became selective, refusing interviews and variety shows he didn’t like.

Despite Ren Qian’s low profile, his legend circulated through the music world. His extraordinary creative ability was rumored to be almost supernatural. The diva and his father-in-law once privately discussed how Wenrun had caught herself a golden husband, whose talent rivaled the gods and could create a new generation of superstars, elevating even the current kings and queens of the music industry.

In the entertainment circle, rumors spread: if an album featured a track by Ren Qian, sales would increase by at least one and a half million copies. This claim remained to be proven, but his dominance of the February Golden Melody Chart convinced everyone. That period was the darkest for all first and second-tier singers. The superstars had not released albums or singles, and there was a vacuum—when the mountain has no tiger, the monkeys try to rule. Maybe they could make it onto the Golden Melody Chart? That would greatly boost their fame. Some singers grinned from ear to ear when releasing singles.

But Ren Qian appeared out of nowhere and shattered their dreams in spectacular fashion. They could only cry in the restroom.

Now, the entire music industry was madly searching for Ren Qian’s contact information, willing to pay top dollar for his songs—yes, it was that crazy. “A person’s name, a tree’s shadow, a singer’s signature song”—a hit track could become a representative work, and with it, one could rake in money everywhere. The profits far exceeded a million or two, so even if Ren Qian priced each single at two million, people would scramble to buy.

But this was a heartbreaking tale; Ren Qian had no idea about it, otherwise he would have been a billionaire by now.

“The phone’s ringing… Let me take this call.”

He glanced at the screen; the number was unfamiliar.

“Are you Mr. Ren Qian? Hello, I’m the general manager of Huayu Entertainment. We’d like to purchase one or two songs from you. Name your price—we’re very sincere… Even four million for two songs is perfectly fine.”

Ren Qian was speechless. Four million for two songs, plus album promotion and production costs, would total at least five or six million. Even if they sold five hundred thousand copies, it would still be a sure loss. But Huayu Entertainment would rather rob Peter to pay Paul; losing money on the album didn’t matter, as long as the singer had a widely recognized song!

“Sorry, not for sale!”

He hung up with a bang.

Why had global album sales plummeted and the public lost interest? Because too many singers entered the industry not for music, but for money—the bar was set too low, and they deserved to flop.

Another agent called; Ren Qian didn’t even think before hanging up.

Ren Qian was frustrated that his phone number had been leaked, while Yan Yu was carefree, grinning widely.

This way of making money was simply delightful. Just reciting a phone number was forty thousand in the bank! In only ten minutes, his account had increased by half a million.

And he needn’t worry about his number being leaked further—his buyers wished for fewer competitors and would never share the information.

Ren Qian watched as missed calls flooded his phone, his expression growing grim. Only a handful knew his number: his father-in-law and the diva aunt would never leak it, nor would Director Wang or Hong Tao. The nurse sister stared blankly at the barrage of calls, “How come so many people suddenly know your number? That shouldn’t be possible…”

“Sigh, I don’t know either. Someone must have leaked it… The price of being handsome, I suppose. Turning off the phone! Let’s go for a stroll at Dove Plaza.” Ren Qian was philosophical, switching off his phone to avoid harassment. He’d just get a new number later.

Dove Plaza, located in the heart of Wangfujing in Jiangnan City.

Wangfujing had become the artistic center of the southern country, thanks to flourishing film and cultural industries. The Wangfujing Grand Opera House, Wuyi Lane Cultural Street, and Broadway Cinema City were among its famous landmarks.

Dove Plaza stood at the crossroads of these iconic buildings, drawing immense crowds. Unlike traditional plazas, it had four parts: a zoo and botanical garden, a cultural square, an “art fortress,” and a mouthwatering food court.

Ren Qian wanted to visit the art fortress. It was said that every day there was a splendid performance; when diva Ning Yilian was still unknown, she performed there and was discovered by Yinhuang Entertainment, launching her to stardom.

Countless celebrities had started their careers here.

Ren Qian knew that as a fledgling newcomer, his status and influence in the music world were far from sufficient. Collaborating with Hong Tao to produce “I Am a Singer” was both a quest for mutual benefit and a step toward fulfilling a wager two years hence.

He wanted, two years from now, to sit atop a dazzling throne, not slink away from the music world like a defeated dog. To achieve this, he had to seize the opportunity with all his strength—using “I Am a Singer” as a springboard to leap into the limelight as the brightest new superstar.

The task was daunting, but precisely because the challenge was so great, it was all the more exciting.

Wasn’t it?