Chapter 64: Harvest Day

[Advanced task completed!

Reward: 3 randomly selected celebrity binding cards (each valid for one month)

[Level upgraded! Current level: National Sensation (Gold, Japan region), heat value cap increased to 600,000!]

[Branch task obtained—Universal Queen, Task Description:

A true goddess must not only possess a voice but also imprint her face upon the silver screen, allowing all to admire her unparalleled grace!

Task requirement: Leave a profound impression on audiences in two consecutive films with box office earnings exceeding one billion RMB.

Reward: Beauty enhancement!]

These were Luo Quan’s recent gains: her Twitter followers surpassed five million, and the massive success of “Don’t Give Up” propelled her popularity to National Sensation status in just a few days—in a East Asian nation of one hundred million people!

Although the three celebrity binding cards she received were currently useless, the sudden appearance of the branch task deeply intrigued Luo Quan.

Completing this task would enhance her beauty—far more tangible than any time-limited celebrity binding card. Her current appearance was already peerless; she wondered what it would be like to rise another tier—would she become a beauty capable of toppling nations?

Luo Quan was extremely eager, but the task’s requirements were stringent.

To leave a profound impression in films with over one billion RMB in box office earnings—how profound exactly was unclear—and she needed to do it in two consecutive films. For an ordinary actress, even one film crossing the billion-RMB mark was already a monumental feat.

But regardless, this reward was no longer vague or hollow like previous ones; Luo Quan was thoroughly satisfied.

As for films, since this task had no time limit, she could take her time. With her current fame, she had no trouble finding good roles.

Thanks to one song, Japanese society regained its vitality; after nearly ten consecutive days of market decline, the stock market surged dramatically—an outcome no domestic or international expert had predicted.

Previously, the market had collapsed catastrophically, teetering on the brink of circuit breakers multiple times; many financial experts claimed Japan was doomed to repeat its twenty-year slump, as the benefits of new-era information technology were exhausted and a new economic crisis loomed.

Yet, Luo Quan’s single song pulled Japan’s collapsing stock market back from the brink—truly legendary.

But saying Luo Quan saved Japan’s stock market wasn’t entirely accurate; she saved the investors trapped in despair, halting their panic sell-offs until prices finally rebounded.

Another crucial reason was that the so-called Tokyo earthquake, predicted to sink the entire nation, never occurred.

The three earthquakes, as the government claimed, were merely coincidental events occurring in three consecutive days with no connection whatsoever; the 9.5-magnitude quake was pure nonsense—humanity still lacked the ability to accurately predict earthquakes.

Rumors remain rumors; they need no sage to expose them—time will reveal their true nature.

Under these two factors, the Japanese public regained their spirit and, inspired by Luo Quan, became more energetic than ever.

As “Don’t Give Up” swept across Japan, several television networks and official media outlets sought to interview Luo Quan, determined to complete the deification.

But Luo Quan rejected every invitation.

She understood her role: this deification existed only because the Japanese government needed it. As long as she remained valuable, she could remain a goddess—but it held little real meaning; excessive promotion would eventually breed public fatigue.

Moreover, Luo Quan herself had no desire to become entangled with the Japanese government.

Though she bore a Western face and currently resided in Japan, at her core she remained a thoroughly pure Han Chinese, and she would inevitably return to China—after all, that was her homeland.

So this current situation was already ideal; if she became too entangled, who knew what complications might arise later?

Just as “Coming of Age” was selling wildly, her mother, who hadn’t called in nearly half a month, finally reached out.

The caller ID showed her mother was currently on Tasmania Island—a place Luo Quan had never heard of before.

After checking, she learned the island belonged to Australia, designated as a protected area with extremely primitive facilities; internet coverage was random, dependent entirely on the weather’s whim, communication relied on shouting, transportation relied on shouting, and every phone call was the result of half a month’s accumulated luck.

“Hello, Mom?”

“My baby! Was there an earthquake in Japan? Are you okay?!”

Her mother’s voice trembled with relief, overjoyed that her daughter had answered the call.

Luo Quan felt touched yet amused: “Mom, your news is way behind—the earthquake happened ten days ago.”

Luo Ni patted her chest: “I just got online here myself. As soon as I saw the earthquake news, I called right away—I didn’t even check the time.”

Luo Quan smiled proudly: “Your daughter’s doing great—I’m a goddess now! By the way, how are you and Dad?”

“I went to see your dad, like you told me…” Luo Ni suddenly fell silent.

“And then?”

“I’m currently at his house…” Luo Ni’s voice carried a hint of shy embarrassment.

Luo Quan was speechless—she was forty years old, yet acted like a blushing maiden.

“Hey, Dad’s coming over—want to say hi?”

Before Luo Quan could respond, Luo Ni called out: “Would you like to speak to Quan Quan?”

“Daughter?!”

A man’s voice crackled through the phone, clearly startled.

Then, hesitantly, he spoke into the receiver: “Quan Quan?”

“Dad.” Luo Quan answered promptly, though her tone lacked the warmth she’d shown her mother.

“Are you adjusting well living alone in Tokyo? Do you have enough money? If not, tell your mom to send you more.”

After more than a decade apart, the phone offered no real way to reconnect—his first words were about money. In the past, Luo Quan would have been delighted to have such a generous father.

“I’m living with friends. Don’t worry about money—I’m a singer now, and my album is selling well.”

“Friends? Male or female?” At this topic, Luo Quan’s father grew tense—apparently, even a playboy guarded his daughter’s personal life closely.

Luo Quan laughed in exasperation: “Of course they’re girls—I’m only eighteen.”

“Good,” Luo Quan’s father chuckled awkwardly.

Then silence fell between them; neither knew what to say.

Luo Ni sensed the tension and quickly took back the phone: “Alright, Quan Quan, I’ll call again in a few days. School’s starting soon—study hard, okay?”

“Got it.”

The call ended; Luo Quan’s connection with her mother was severed once more.