Chapter 58: Chapter Fifty-Eight: Fortune Hides Misfortune (Part Two)

Over the next three days, Luo Quan released songs one after another, shifting her style from romantic themes to deeper subjects like criticizing social ills and anti-war messages.

This was what surprised veteran music critics the most: nearly all young singers, at the start of their careers, write mostly love songs, as their shallow life experiences prevent them from creating truly profound works.

Luo Quan once again shattered the public’s fixed notion of young singers; whether it was “Aliez” or “She Once Lived,” both balanced melody with sharply incisive lyrics.

The former’s instrumentation was grand and symphonic, delivering a moment of explosive impact at its climax, while the latter featured rapid-fire spoken passages, intensely powerful—both were exceptional, high-quality works with depth.

After these releases, everyone finally understood that Luo Quan’s talent far exceeded their imagination; if her creative level continued to improve, she had a real chance of becoming the first Asian musician to reach global prominence.

In fact, Luo Quan had already been walking this path: although “Faded” had seen a slight decline in popularity on YouTube recently, its views still neared seven hundred million, and while its B-list performance wasn’t outstanding, it had briefly topped the charts—an honor in itself.

With this level of popularity as a foundation, any future English songs Luo Quan releases would certainly attract considerable attention.

As the album’s demo tracks were gradually released, and after Luo Quan dominated Twitter’s trending list for a full week, she finally began to quiet down.

It wasn’t that the hype had faded—it was that all the buzz-worthy moments in these seven days had already been exhausted; her momentum had reached the peak for a young artist, and to go further, she could only wait for an even more explosive next work.

But for Luo Quan, this was part of another plan: you eat a meal one bite at a time; while the momentum of “Coming of Age” swept through Japan, she needed to read deeply and enrich herself.

As a top student at Tokyo University’s School of Languages, Luo Quan inherited her predecessor’s academic credentials but not her intellect.

The knowledge she had learned before was still there, but future studies would rely entirely on herself; faced with the profound discipline of linguistics, she didn’t believe she could master it as effortlessly as she did music.

If her grades slipped and she had to repeat a year, it would be far too embarrassing.

So, during the final stretch of summer vacation, Luo Quan canceled nearly all her engagements and stayed home reading nonstop.

Besides linguistics books, she read widely across other subjects.

Even if she might never use them later, learning them was better than knowing nothing.

Life’s pace seemed to slow: Luo Quan spent her days reading at home, Wen Xia took Junzi to the dance studio during the day, and at night she worked on planning with her laptop.

Under Wen Xia’s training, Junzi’s dancing improved rapidly; whenever Luo Quan had free time, she also taught Junzi singing techniques.

Though Junzi appeared sweet and naive, she grasped singing and dancing instantly—it was clear she was born for this profession.

Even Wen Xia, a genius who had trained in traditional folk dance since childhood and later studied at the elite 1M Dance Studio in Korea, found Junzi’s progress astonishing; in China, Junzi would likely have been signed by a talent agency and sent straight to a talent show.

Of course, Wen Xia felt Junzi’s current level still fell short if she truly wanted to make a name for herself.

Singing and dancing alone weren’t enough to become a top idol—many other factors mattered; as someone who had been through it, Wen Xia understood this well, so she taught Junzi calmly, taking things step by step.

Ten days passed in a flash; today, the final demo track of “Coming of Age” went live, and pre-orders for the album reached an unprecedented 1.35 million copies, over half of which were special editions!

This was undoubtedly a record that would be etched into Japanese music history—no one had achieved it before, and likely no one except Luo Quan herself would ever reach it again.

Promotion efforts were winding down, and the albums were being pressed into CDs; the first print run of four million copies was the largest in Japan’s record industry in nearly a decade—and a guaranteed profit!

Days earlier, Sony Records’ sales department phones had been overwhelmed with calls from retailers and wholesalers nationwide—all placing orders, some for tens of thousands, others for seven or eight thousand—sales were guaranteed.

If all four million albums sold, the eighteen-year-old girl could become Japan’s youngest billionaire!

Of course, it was still too early to talk about this; though Japan’s music market was large, absorbing so many albums wouldn’t happen overnight, and the future remained uncertain.

“The evening glow is so beautiful tonight,” the three girls leaned on the balcony railing; Luo Quan gazed at the crimson-stained sky beyond, her eyes filled with emotion.

In just one month, she had transformed from a destitute street hoodlum into a sensation and leading voice of the new generation of singers, holding millions in wealth.

This massive change felt like a dream—a beautiful one she didn’t want to wake from.

Originally, Luo Quan thought she’d immediately indulge in extravagant luxury upon acquiring so much money, like the jokes said: buying two boxed meals, eating one and throwing the other on the ground.

Yet she still ate simply and modestly, serving herself only what she would finish, never once doing the foolish act of eating half and discarding the rest.

She had tasted expensive gourmet dishes, but found them no more delicious; after a few meals, she grew tired of them.

As for luxury goods, jewelry, or luxury cars, she had zero interest; after suddenly becoming rich, Luo Quan’s lifestyle planning was astonishingly plain.

Those who had known hunger and hardship never grew used to spending lavishly; often, Luo Quan didn’t even realize she had long since moved beyond the need to haggle with shop owners—she still calculated every expense.

This was perhaps her most precious quality; the saying “wealth cannot corrupt” must describe people like her, Luo Quan thought to herself with unashamed pride.

If she found an opportunity to donate some money to charity, her image would become even more perfect—but wouldn’t that seem too contrived?

Luo Quan smiled and shook her head, thinking she was being ridiculous; while becoming wealthy and cultivating virtue was good, her current assets were probably still too modest.

“Luo Luo, look—tonight’s sunset seems strange!” Wen Xia’s startled voice pulled Luo Quan back from her charitable daydream.

Luo Quan looked up and immediately frowned.