Chapter 15: Chapter Fifteen: Sold Out

“Director Ishimura, there’s an urgent matter you need to arrange immediately!” Miki burst into the meeting room holding a stack of files.

“Miki-kun, you’re too reckless!” Director Ishimura, who was in the middle of a meeting with staff, frowned and sharply rebuked Miki for interrupting him by barging in.

Miki hastily explained: “Miss Luoquan’s album has sold out completely! Record stores everywhere are calling to request reprints, every social media platform is discussing this album, and the sales and marketing departments’ phones have been overwhelmed!”

Although Director Ishimura had high hopes for Luoquan’s album and believed it had strong sales potential, he never expected it to sell out in less than half a day—and generate such massive discussion.

Fortunately, he was a man who had weathered storms; after a momentary shock, he immediately regained composure and simply told the staff: “The meeting is postponed for now,” before following Miki out of the room.

Taking the platform data Miki handed him, Director Ishimura scanned it at lightning speed, saying as he read: “Notify the printing plant to produce an additional five hundred thousand copies immediately. Also, have the marketing department launch a full-scale campaign for this album. If nothing goes wrong, this will be our company’s first quadruple-platinum album this year!”

“Yes!” Miki replied excitedly, then dashed off quickly.

While everyone was scrambling over Luoquan’s album, Luoquan herself lay on the tatami, gazing blankly at the ceiling.

On Twitter, netizens’ comments shifted from praise to complaints, because Luoquan’s album had become so wildly popular that the initial print run of one hundred thousand copies had been completely sold out.

The online sales page had been temporarily updated with a “Sold Out” notice, and physical record stores had been ransacked by frantic fans.

Luoquan’s album was now temporarily sold out, and fans were blaming Sony Records for lacking foresight—how could such an incredible album be printed in such tiny quantities? You’re one of the world’s three largest record companies!

Although Luoquan’s songs could be streamed on iTunes, the sound quality of a phone was entirely different from that of a physical record—especially for Luoquan’s voice, so exquisitely beautiful that a phone’s audio could never fully convey its emotional depth.

So while fans complained, they also urgently demanded Sony print more records—and the higher the audio fidelity, the better.

Sony’s official Twitter immediately responded, acknowledging their shortcomings and asking fans to be patient: five hundred thousand copies were already being printed and would be available at major Tokyo record stores and online retailers by tomorrow evening at the latest.

“One hundred thousand… blinked and gone,” Luoquan grinned like an idiot.

How anxious she had been last night, now how elated she was—her debut album had exploded completely, and on her path to becoming a Diva, she had taken a solid, decisive step forward.

In just a few days, she had gone from obscurity to overwhelming fame, making her feel unreal, even lost—she could do nothing but Shaxiao for the moment.

This was a normal reaction for any young person thrust into overnight fame; although Luoquan had mentally prepared herself, it seemed her preparation was still insufficient.

“Look at you—just an album selling out, and you’re drooling with joy,” Wen Xia tossed Luoquan a tissue, her face full of disdain.

Luoquan wiped her mouth as she retorted: “What do you know? This is my first album—it’s monumental! Besides, when you released your debut, didn’t you feel anything inside?”

Wen Xia replied calmly: “I did feel something—but nothing like you, drooling like a fool.”

Wen Xia wasn’t lying, but the reality was slightly different.

Her debut single, when she first debuted, had lyrics and composition so painfully bad that it sold only about two hundred copies in a week—completely flopped.

The five members of her girl group had cried together all night over it; as captain, Wen Xia, burdened by responsibility and pride, cried the hardest—tears and snot everywhere.

So don’t be fooled by her now-old-fashioned scolding of Luoquan—she had been just as bad back then.

But she meant no harm; this was just the usual passive-aggressive banter between fake besties—if they weren’t close, Wen Xia would be the most polite person in the room.

Still, Wen Xia’s words helped Luoquan calm down a little; after the album’s success, her popularity surged, and a cascade of rewards poured into her system.

[Level: Minor Celebrity (Gold)]

[Popularity: 35000]

[Personal Attributes]

Appearance: SSS

Vocal Skill: B

Acting: C-

Creativity: B~Infinite]

[Congratulations! You’ve achieved the milestone: Debut at Peak—your first album received massive attention and praise. You’ve earned a Special Skill Card.]

[Advanced Task: Remain in the Oricon Top 3 for at least four consecutive weeks.]

[Task Progress: No work yet entered the Oricon Top 10.]

The biggest gain from this album’s success was popularity—now she could exchange for any song in the store, and she didn’t need to worry about track selection for her next album; she could take her time.

But her immediate priority was improving her vocal skill—that was her only current flaw.

There were three ways to improve vocal skill: first, Luoquan could learn and develop it herself—this was the most time-consuming method, and she had no time for it now.

Second, she could use a Celebrity Binding Card to gain the vocal skill of a specific star—but the higher the star’s vocal level, the more popularity points the card cost, and all cards sold in the store had expiration dates—each lasted only thirty days, requiring renewal, which was inconvenient.

The third method was simpler and more brutal: spend popularity points to buy a Super Learning Item, which directly upgraded her vocal skill level. All information about the next level would be forcibly implanted into Luoquan’s mind, saving immense time—but the drawback was, such items could only be purchased after the host leveled up, were extremely limited in quantity, and were outrageously expensive!

Celebrity Binding Cards were cheaper, but their expiration dates were infuriating; even if she could bind many stars, none were permanent—if her popularity ever dropped, she’d instantly revert to her original state.

As the saying goes: a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. Luoquan gritted her teeth and spent thirty thousand popularity points to buy a Super Learning Item.

The instant she used it, a flood of knowledge surged into her mind, and her chest, throat, lips, and tongue—parts related to singing—underwent subtle changes under a mysterious force.

About a minute later, the transformation ended. In her personal attributes, her vocal skill jumped instantly from B to A-. This was the level of a seasoned female singer—only a handful of young female singers in Japan could reach this standard!

After receiving the system’s divine enlightenment, Luoquan opened her eyes, shuddered slightly, and felt a sudden urge to urinate—she hurried to the bathroom.

While there, she casually warmed up her voice to test her high register. The results were excellent—even singing the notoriously difficult C6 high note while sitting on the toilet was perfectly stable. When attempting consecutive C6 notes, her breath faltered slightly, but she didn’t crack a single note—her vocal talent was truly one in ten thousand.

Coming out of the bathroom, Luoquan was in high spirits, humming the chorus of “Lemon,” and posting excitedly on Twitter to thank her fans.

“Not bad—screaming up to High C,” Wen Xia glanced at Luoquan, her tone tinged with envy.

Luoquan sat with one leg crossed over the other, her raised foot bouncing incessantly: “What can I say? Heaven’s feeding me. I actually wanted to stay low-key.”

“Heaven’s feeding you… look at you showing off!” Wen Xia mimicked Luoquan’s tone, then opened her laptop, logged into her Weibo alias, and posted this article:

Diary of a Floating Life

July 19, 2016—Tokyo, Sunny

Ah Huang’s album sold out, and she’s so ecstatic she can’t even close her legs. Even while using the toilet, she’s belting out songs. Her vocal skill is astonishing—her piercing voice makes cheap wooden doors and walls irrelevant. I suspect the upstairs neighbors are empty; if they’re not, they’ve already come down to give Ah Huang a “friendly” visit.

But as the saying goes: when fortune smiles, enjoy it fully. All Ah Huang’s lonely efforts and anxious doubts before her success have finally paid off in this peak of joy. When she saw her album’s sales on her phone, I glimpsed tears glistening in her eyes—the heartfelt emotion of a young heart striving for and finally achieving its dream!

May her future be brilliant, forever young, forever with tears in her eyes.