Chapter 744: The Wave

"Ah, is that condom brand so shameless?" the man actually joked, and Bai Lang immediately liked the fellow, "Alright! I'm starting to like you." Both men laughed. "Fine, tell me what kind of ad you're representing." Bai Lang was willing to listen. The man replied that they were representing ordinary men's clothing, not some fancy suit.

Bai Lang scratched his chin, "I'll agree to you." He was quite straightforward, and the other party was a bit stunned, "Brother, you're generous, not even asking the price?" Bai Lang chuckled, "No worries, the contract isn't even signed yet."

Bai Lang would never sign a slave contract; even if he signed an agency contract, it would be a one‑off deal, so the other side raising the commission didn't matter—eight million in hand was that solid. He was pleased that the other party liked it, and after a few words about whether to sign a manager agreement, seeing Bai Lang had no intention, they dropped it. In the end Bai Lang signed a model contract for an advertisement—still a still‑image contract.

Things should be done cleanly and efficiently, so Bai Lang quickly followed the other party to the advertising firm. There must be more than one model recommended to the agency; the ad firm is the client, and don't forget the clothing company funding the shoot is also a client, both need to assess the models. Bai Lang looked at the competitors; apart from himself, they were probably all veterans of the trade, with height, long legs, and a sturdy build as basic requirements.

None of the male models here were shorter than 1.85 m; of course Bai Lang was still the tallest and most hulking, a type of strength without a six‑pack. He brushed his chin; stubble had already sprouted, adding a rugged air. Many of the male models were handsome, and some gave Bai Lang a feminine impression; he suspected that about eighty percent of them were 'calcium guys', though he had no evidence yet.

The client's people arrived, and among them someone could instantly tell who the 'calcium guys' were—their eyes almost manifested hooks, and that gaze matched a few of the male models, immediately identifying the right ones. Bai Lang felt nauseous; he had long opposed calcium guys, and now in this world he wasn't looking to become a saint, just living a normal happy life, so it was hard to directly strike at those guys' three legs.

"Fine, taking calcium is a personal choice, taking calcium is a personal choice." Bai Lang used that line to calm himself; his very masculine demeanor matched the calcium guys' tastes, but they weren't the only calcium guys—there were women among the clients too, whose strong sense of presence made Bai Lang blink rapidly. The man, however, pretended not to see and looked away, as if his soul were soaring elsewhere.

The clients muttered in the conference room for a while, and finally chose the newcomer Bai Lang. It was just a still‑image model, not a commercial video, so everyone considered it a 'small business'. Bai Lang, the human mannequin, spent a few days taking photos, and there was a female partner involved.

"Truly unbearable to recall." Remembering the photo shoot, Bai Lang kept shaking his head in the long dressing room; he realized how many calcium guys there are in the art trade, and there were plenty of 'wave girls' too. The photographer he worked with was a typical calcium guy, and he even called the lighting crew his boyfriend—both clearly men. The female model he collaborated with brushed against him both openly and covertly, with a rather teasing vibe.

However, Bai Lang glanced at her phone—not exactly stealing a look, just that his vision was sharp and his Divine Sense overflowed unintentionally—so he clearly saw the woman flirting on WeChat with at least several people, some even using price metaphors, "Sure enough, she's an outsider…" Bai Lang smiled; at that moment he had no appetite for such matters, so he merely nodded to himself.

"Chaotic, extremely chaotic." The trade's allure is huge; constantly dealing with luxury goods or the rich makes one think one belongs to that tier, and certain morals gradually erode. Bai Lang sighed as he recalled this, while he himself still lived as a cover, eating, drinking, and playing. The ad quickly rolled out, and this subtle influence unexpectedly made Bai Lang gradually known—he had already been popular online with a certain crowd for a week.

This time it was adding bricks and tiles, expanding his influence beyond the net. Bai Lang didn't mind; the person called him, "Hm? Looking for me? Join a show? Invite me to a talent contest? Has the producer gone crazy?" Bai Lang replied with a string of question marks. The caller was the agent named Wei Yang, the same jokester from before. This time there was a talent‑show recruiting people, casting a wide net.

Having already gained a bit of fame, Bai Lang was also among them; the still‑image clothing ad was quite successful. The clothes themselves weren't crucial, but many were intrigued by a man wearing them. The key was the rugged vibe, the swaggering masculinity—no matter what he wore, it seemed to suit him. Of course, ultra‑short skirts with leg hair were a no‑go, that super‑eye‑sore style—unfortunately, Bai Lang saw a short video of it on his phone.

"Not going to Lingdu's Taigu Lane was a good thing; had I chosen to go to Lingdu, it would have been over." Bai Lang still couldn't understand how the southwestern first city became the mainland's famous 'Base City.' On the phone he replied, "I can't sing, can't dance, can't even perform a skit—what would I do? Stick a pole up there and pretend to be cool?" Yet Wei Yang never gave up, repeatedly urging him, and finally Bai Lang agreed to give it a try.

These days talent shows are rampant, from good singing contests to 'I'm an actor' types, spawning a batch of internet‑famous stars. While working as an Extra, Bai Lang heard that the authorities intended to curb this flood of shows; those traffic stars and their fans are truly troublemakers, already causing multiple public‑opinion incidents, chaos everywhere. This wave is likely the last surge, and Bai Lang happened to catch it.

Bai Lang also went to try it out; he was confident—being a martial‑arts master, he could do anything in this world except perform. "Going to see it for myself, watching the so‑called melodramas live, sounds pretty interesting," he thought. He had long found those wailing types distasteful; if this talent show were just a formality, fine, but if they truly let him play, it would surely cause a complete upheaval.