Chapter 65: Dad

"Just finished recording, but the post-production isn't done yet—I'll send you the demo."

What we recorded today is only a rough draft; we still need to finish the post-production before the official release.

"Alright, I'll send it to Director Kong right away."

Chen Huan stretched, unintentionally showcasing her stunning curves right in front of Zhang Dongshan, instantly leaving Old Zhang staring with wide eyes.

A young girl charms the eyes, but a married woman charms the heart!

Chen Huan, at this age and so well-preserved, was like a ripe peach, juicy and tempting, making one instinctively want to take a bite.

At this moment, Chen Huan didn't notice Zhang Dongshan's expression—she was looking down at her phone, checking the newly received demo of "Song of the Commoner." She listened to it once herself; Zhang Dongshan's slightly weathered voice perfectly matched the song, brimming with storytelling.

Perfect!

Chen Huan sincerely sighed, then immediately forwarded the song to Kong Sanmin.

She wasn't worried this time would disturb his rest—directors like him often stayed up all night, sometimes going days without more than a few hours of sleep.

When not filming, their nightlife was rich and active, so Chen Huan guessed that at this hour, Kong Sanmin was either working or at a club, and the chance he was resting was the lowest.

Her guess was right—right now, Kong Sanmin was at the club discussing promotion and distribution with the producers and distributors of "The Flowing Years."

"Director Kong, I heard the theme song hasn't been decided yet—time is extremely tight."

"Don't mention it. The songs Xu Bin sent don't fit our drama well—they're just a bit off. We've tried a few others, but none are good enough."

"Then just use Lao Xu's song. After all, he's a famous musician—it'll still be a selling point for promotion."

The distributor's director spoke up to advise.

"Hmm, we might as well go with that. I never signed the contract because I was hoping to find something better. I'll sign the contract tomorrow."

Though reluctant, Kong Sanmin had no better options—he could only concede.

Fortunately, for a drama, the theme song is merely icing on the cake. He had full confidence in the quality of this drama; from script development to filming completion, it had taken seven full years.

Although Kong Sanmin had directed other projects during that time, the script refinement never stopped, and the cast were all powerhouse actors, so he was confident about the drama's broadcast prospects.

But Kong Sanmin was a perfectionist; if the theme song didn't satisfy him, he always felt a lingering regret.

As everyone chatted, his phone on the coffee table buzzed once.

Kong Sanmin glanced casually and saw it was a message from Chen Huan. His interaction with this top-tier agent was minimal—just acquaintances, occasionally meeting at banquets.

He didn't think much of her sending a message so late, assuming she was trying to secure a role for one of her artists in his new drama.

"The Flowing Years" had already wrapped; post-production was nearing completion, and his new drama was about to start filming. As a top director in the industry, Kong Sanmin's projects were the "big pies" every company fought over, all desperate to squeeze their artists into his cast—even a supporting role with substantial screen time was a win.

Just then, the distributor's director took a call, so Kong Sanmin picked up his phone to check Chen Huan's message—and realized she had sent a song, claiming it was perfect for "The Flowing Years."

Kong Sanmin casually tapped open the song, but a female actress who had come to entertain was singing in the private room, drowning out the audio from his phone.

"Xin Xin, stop singing."

Kong Sanmin slapped the singing actress's thigh, and she immediately got the hint, pausing her song. The room fell silent.

The song from his phone now stood out clearly.

The intro had just ended, and a man's voice—deeply magnetic and steeped in weariness—began to sing...

We are all common folk, born into this world

Day and night we toil in bitterness, never granted a moment's rest

Kong Sanmin hadn't taken it seriously—he'd listened to too many songs lately, including works by famous musicians, none of which had satisfied him.

But after just two lines, he straightened up from his half-reclined position on the sofa, his eyes suddenly sharp and clear.

When the first verse ended, his scalp prickled—he excitedly slapped Xin Xin's bare thigh: "Got it!"

"This is it!"

Xin Xin's lips twitched; she barely held back a cry, silently grumbling: Can't you just slap your own leg if you're excited? Why hit mine so hard?

Though annoyed, she quickly adjusted, forcing a smile: "Director Kong, I think this song is perfect too."

"Perfect? It's tailor-made for 'The Flowing Years'!"

Kong Sanmin beamed—the problem that had plagued him for so long was finally solved.

After listening to the entire song, he slapped Xin Xin's bare thigh again: "Excellent!"

"What a song—'Song of the Commoner'!"

"Amazing!!"

This time, his slap was even harder—Xin Xin's eyes welled with tears.

"Xin Xin, what's wrong? Don't you like the song?"

Kong Sanmin was in a state of exhilaration and didn't notice how hard he'd hit.

"Moved... this song is so moving..."

Xin Xin sniffled. What could she say?

"If someone your age can be moved by this song, it's definitely flawless!"

Without delay, Kong Sanmin called Chen Huan: "Little Chen, I'm using the song you sent. Who's the singer? Who owns the copyright?"

"I'm at Zi Ye Hui Suo. If you're free, come over—we'll talk in person."

"What? The original singer is here too? Perfect—come together..."

Outside Xianyu Music building.

Chen Huan and Zhang Dongshan had originally planned to meet Zhao Xiangqian and the others, but after receiving the call, they changed course and headed straight to Zi Ye Hui Suo.

"Shan Ge, Director Kong is extremely satisfied with 'Song of the Commoner'—unless something unexpected happens, this collaboration is locked!"

Chen Huan was thrilled; her fatigue from staying up all night vanished.

"I've never collaborated with a director this big before—I'm a little excited."

Zhang Dongshan had driven the Wenjie M8 here; now seated in the driver's seat, he excitedly rubbed his hands together.

"That was before. From now on, we'll be working with only big directors."

Chen Huan was full of confidence in the future development of Xianyu Music.

"With you around, it's a given!"

Zhang Dongshan chuckled. He never dreamed his life's brightest moment would come after age fifty.

He had thought his life would just drift by aimlessly; he never imagined he'd ride on his son's fame and become wildly popular at fifty-three, even meeting Chen Huan, this "kindred spirit."

Of course, right now it was still just one-sided infatuation.

But Zhang Dongshan believed proximity granted advantage—since they spent every day together, Chen Huan would eventually be his.

The next day.

Zhang Xian slept until he woke naturally.

Today, when he opened his eyes, he saw over five million had been deposited—slightly less than the day before.

In the era of self-media, new trends constantly replace old ones; even the hottest songs are fleeting. Only high-quality works that withstand the test of time remain beloved by many, but their metrics never reach the peaks seen during their explosive popularity.

As for mindless pop songs, they're forgotten in the corner after the wave passes, often impossible to recall.

Tomorrow's income will probably drop below five million.

Terrible!

Zhang Xian silently grumbled, taking advantage yet acting put-out.

He got up, washed up.

But when Zhang Xian habitually sat at the dining table ready to eat, he suddenly noticed there was no breakfast today.

"Xiaoxian, what are we having for breakfast?"

Zhang Zhaodi rubbed her stomach—she was clearly hungry too.

"Where's Old Zhang?"

"Didn't he come home last night?"

Zhang Xian stretched his neck to peek into his father's room—the door was open, no one inside.

"No, he didn't come back."

Zhang Zhaodi nodded.

"Wow, now he's staying out all night."

Zhang Xian pulled out his phone and called his father—the call was turned off.

Such a handful!

Could something have happened?

Zhang Xian felt a bit worried.

But not too worried—he was over fifty, unlikely to do anything reckless. Last night, his father said he was going to the company to record songs; maybe he slept there after working too late.

"Let's eat first, then we'll go look for Old Zhang together."

Zhang Xian said to Zhang Zhaodi as he fixed his hair in the mirror.

"Can we eat KFC?"

Zhang Zhaodi looked at Zhang Xian with hopeful eyes.

"Fine, whatever you want."

Though slightly exasperated, Zhang Xian decided to accompany Zhang Zhaodi to KFC—he spoiled his own sister, especially one who had stayed "childlike" to save him.

But Zhang Xian himself truly disliked fast food; a godlike millionaire earning five million a day going to KFC—what kind of thing was that?

Still, it reminded him of a godlike millionaire novel he'd once read, where the male lead, worth tens of billions, claimed he'd take a girl to a fancy Western restaurant—but ended up at KFC. So abstract!

After fixing his hair, Zhang Xian was about to leave when a woman wearing a baseball cap walked into their courtyard dragging two suitcases.

"Miss, this is a private residence..."

Zhang Xian was about to tell her not to intrude, but when she looked up, he swallowed the rest of his words: "Second sister?"

"Why are you back?!"

The woman in the baseball cap was Zhang Xian's second sister, Zhang Shengnan.

"This is my home—I come back whenever I want!"

Zhang Shengnan shot back.

"That's fair—I'm just so happy, no, actually, it's a surprise! Second sister, I've missed you so much..."

Zhang Xian beamed with a radiant smile.

During his college years, the one who supported him most was his second sister, Zhang Shengnan. Though she was a "Heng Dian drifter," she wasn't among the lowest tier—she was classically trained, landed guest roles, and occasionally played significant supporting parts, so her income was decent.

"Stop talking nonsense—come help me with the luggage!"

Zhang Shengnan struggled with the two large suitcases.

"Got it!"

Zhang Xian responded and hurried over to help.

"Second sister, how long are you planning to stay this time?"

After carrying the suitcases inside, Zhang Xian asked casually.

"I'm not leaving again."

Zhang Shengnan sat on the sofa, surveying the room's furnishings—someone who had wandered for years always felt deep warmth returning home.

"That's great."

"Second sister, our family is different now—we have our own company. You should join and help out."

"By the way, I bought you a gift a few days ago. I planned to mail it to you, but you said your filming location was too remote in the mountains, so I said I'd send it later."

Zhang Xian walked back to his room and retrieved the LV bag and Chanel dress he had bought for his second sister, Zhang Shengnan.

Zhang Shengnan knew her brother had written the hit song "Tǐmiàn" and made money—still, she was surprised by such an expensive gift.

Of course, there was more feeling moved.

Before, it was always Zhang Xian making her spend coins; now, everyone knew to give gifts to this older sister.

She touched the LV bag worth over thirty thousand, and suddenly her nose grew stiff, tears beginning to swirl in her eyes.

It wasn't Zhang Xian's gift-giving that made her cry—it was that without comparison, there was no pain; her boyfriend spent all day sweet-talking her, and this year for her birthday he finally "went all out" and gave her an LV bag—still a high-quality fake.

But giving a fake bag was the least of it; the main thing was he'd cheated on her, and even more absurdly, the other woman was her "best friend."

Not only that, they had originally planned for her and her boyfriend to join the "Brocade River and Mountain" drama crew together—this was a drama by the famous director Kong Sanmin; even a minor supporting role would let more viewers see her.

After all, for a drama by a director like Kong Sanmin, every actor was scrambling to get in; for Zhang Shengnan, an eighteen-line minor actress, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

But after she'd smoothed over the connections with the assistant casting director, the one who got to join the crew wasn't her—it was her best friend.

Zhang Shengnan had been kept in the dark until last night, when she finally learned the truth.

After a huge fight with her boyfriend, she packed her bags overnight and left Heng Dian, first going to Hangcheng, then taking an early flight back to Beijing.

After going through all this, Zhang Shengnan's mood was understandable; and in contrast, her younger brother Zhang Xian was so thoughtful and considerate—she hadn't shed a single tear from last night until this morning, but now she finally broke down.

Tears of grievance and emotion intertwined, continuously sliding down her cheeks.

"Big sister, why are you crying?"

"Who hurt you? Let Xiao Xian beat him up for you, to get you revenge."

Seeing Zhang Shengnan start crying, Zhang Zhaodi handed her tissues while pinching her little face and said.

This sudden turn of events left Zhang Xian a bit stunned—he knew his second sister Zhang Shengnan well; she was a strong, tough woman, just like her name: "Shengnan."

When Zhang Xian was a child and got bullied by several older boys at school, his second sister Zhang Shengnan found out and went alone, carrying a mop, and beat the boys off—fierce as hell.

In Zhang Xian's memory, his second sister had never cried before.

"Big sister, what happened? Did you break up with Tian Zhenyu?"

The only reason Zhang Xian could think of was this.

"Yeah, we broke up!"

Zhang Shengnan took the tissues from Zhang Zhaodi and wiped her tears: "But I'm not crying because of him—I'm crying because I didn't deserve it..."

Zhang Shengnan didn't hide anything, and immediately told them everything that had happened between her boyfriend Tian Zhenyu and her best friend Han Qiuying.