Chapter 150

"I'm just going home to spend time with my daughter—why do you insist on coming along?"

In the luxury minivan, Yuan Wanqing sat on the rear resting seat, staring at Luo Fei, who had crudely squeezed onto the vehicle, and said with a look of exasperation: "Aren't you supposed to be going home to be with your partner?"

"I haven't seen Zhusheng in ages—can't I just tag along for a meal?" Luo Fei rolled her eyes, then muttered under her breath, "Besides, there's bound to be some good drama to watch."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing." Luo Fei chuckled twice, then changed the subject: "You've finished recording 'Year Rings,' right? Your workload must've dropped a lot lately."

"That's what happens to a faded artist," Yuan Wanqing sighed wryly. "I've just disappointed General Ying's expectations."

"This comeback was pushed through by him despite strong opposition, but the tide of the times really is hard to defy."

"I used to dream that after my comeback, I'd return to my former height—but now, it's better to accept the reality that I'm just an old woman."

"You're being a bit too hard on yourself," Luo Fei shook her head. "It's not that you've gotten worse, or that today's artists have truly improved—it's that in this internet age, the very logic of how someone becomes famous has changed."

"Besides, digital albums are now highly developed, piracy is rampant, and singers have long passed the era where selling albums could guarantee massive success."

"Without traffic, even getting on a hit variety show for promotion requires you to pay out of pocket, and your fees for commercial gigs won't rise; brands won't approach you."

"And your music? It's just one way to gain traffic—and not even the only one."

"These days, making jokes and being funny on variety shows is more useful than singing a great song."

As Yuan Wanqing listened to Luo Fei's words, she knew her friend was trying to comfort her. Leaning her chin on her hand, she gazed out the window at the street scene, and her heart gradually grew calm.

When she debuted at the turn of the century, she exploded in fame—but in truth, the years she actually made money were just two or three. After going abroad for treatment, she spent over a decade, and wasn't nearly as wealthy as outsiders imagined.

Still, she certainly had enough money to live on.

Even if this comeback flops and makes no waves, she still earns far more than ordinary people imagine through company channels—taking on commercial gigs and side performances.

She was no longer that naive girl with grand ambitions of becoming a legendary figure.

Now, having failed in her comeback, Yuan Wanqing had gradually accepted the outcome, and planned to redirect her focus and life's center back onto Yan Zhusheng.

At least every weekend, she'd come home to spend time with her daughter.

Leaving her alone at home too often wasn't good.

"It's a shame the company has been shifting its focus these past few years—its internal resources are now entirely tilted toward film and television."

Luo Fei kept talking enthusiastically: "The quality of songs they've arranged for you? Not top-tier—just average at best."

"They claim they're custom-made, but really, only 'Dreamlike Flutter' is decent; the rest just resonate with old fans."

"But in the internet age, it's still the youth's world—those older folks still surfing online? They're a tiny minority."

"Alright," Yuan Wanqing laughed and waved her hand. "You've said all this just to cheer me up—I'm not as fragile as you think."

"I just don't want you to sink into total despair," Luo Fei sighed. "These days, opportunities sometimes come out of nowhere—you've got to be ready to catch them."

"It's not as easy as you make it sound," Yuan Wanqing shook her head. "Anyway, life goes on. What do you want for dinner? I'll tell the cook to prepare it early."

"Then you'd better prepare a bit more," Luo Fei whispered.

"What?"

"Nothing." Luo Fei bit back a grin. "I'll eat anything—just decide for yourself."

Yuan Wanqing pulled out her phone and called the cook.

After it connected, she spoke briefly, then heard the other side say:

"Your daughter called me today and said you don't need me to come cook today—what should I do about this…?"

"Huh?" Yuan Wanqing paused. "Did she say why?"

"I didn't ask," the cook replied. "But this hasn't been unusual for a while—these past two months, I've often not been called on Saturday nights; I only come on Sunday lunch."

"I see," Yuan Wanqing fell silent for a moment, lost in thought, then nodded. "Alright, I understand. I'll ask Zhusheng about it."

After hanging up, Yuan Wanqing turned to Luo Fei, who was covering her mouth and smirking, and gave her a suspicious look: "You—do you know something?"

"I only know a little bit."

"Then tell me."

"We're almost at your house—just see for yourself."

Hearing this, Yuan Wanqing fell into thought, then began to suspect something.

When the minivan entered the residential compound and pulled into the garage, Yuan Wanqing and Luo Fei got out and walked toward the house.

The elevator rose steadily. Yuan Wanqing pulled out her house key, opened the door, and invited Luo Fei in—then glanced down at the floor by the entrance.

Besides Yan Zhusheng's shoes, there was a larger pair of sneakers—clearly a boy's.

"It's Li Luo, isn't it?" Yuan Wanqing glanced at Luo Fei and smirked. "I don't get why you're so excited."

"You guessed that already?" Luo Fei blinked. "How come you seem so familiar with him?"

"I met him at parent-teacher conferences—we had dinner together," Yuan Wanqing said simply. "But how did you know he'd be here?"

"I got an email from him a couple days ago—Zhusheng asked me to help arrange two compositions," Luo Fei spread her hands. "Said they'd be used for recording this weekend—I figured Li Luo would come over."

Yuan Wanqing rolled her eyes—now she finally understood why this woman had insisted on tagging along for dinner today.

Still, she was curious: "Why does Li Luo have a new song again?"

"Never underestimate the mind of a young person," Luo Fei sighed. "Pop songs aren't that hard—actually, I think it's pretty good, with some catchy melodies."

"Then let's go listen," Yuan Wanqing said, already slipping on slippers and heading toward the recording studio on the second floor.

Luo Fei hurried after her, her face alight with excitement, clearly eager for drama.

The two reached the door of the second-floor recording studio.

Yuan Wanqing's home studio was specially soundproofed.

But that didn't mean no sound escaped at all.

At least, by the time they reached the door, they could hear movement inside.

But right now, no recording was happening—instead, faint voices could be heard speaking.

Yuan Wanqing had been about to knock—but then her hand froze.

"Li Luo, be a little gentler here."

"You just say that—I don't quite understand."

"It's… I'll teach you."

Then, a song drifted out from inside.

"Right here, listen closely—this enunciation can be lighter, with a ethereal feel. You're pronouncing it too heavily."

Hearing this, Yuan Wanqing's expression softened, and she raised her hand to knock on the door.

The recording studio fell silent at once.

Soon, after a series of footsteps, Yan Zhusheng opened the door from inside.

When she saw her mother and Luo Fei, her face froze for a moment: "What are you doing here?"

"It's the weekend, nothing to do, so I came to see you," Yuan Wanqing said, glancing at Li Luo inside, then asked, "Did we interrupt you?"

Yan Zhusheng blinked, then shook her head, stepped aside, and let Yuan Wanqing and Luo Fei in.

"Long time no see, Zhusheng," Luo Fei cheerfully stepped in and hugged Yan Zhusheng, pinching and squeezing her cheeks. "Come on, smile—I know how beautiful you look when you smile."

"Auntie Luo, we still have to record the song," Yan Zhusheng said flatly, letting Luo Fei play with her face.

"Sigh…" Luo Fei sighed, releasing her hands. "You were so cute as a child—now you're just boring."

After saying that, Luo Fei turned to Li Luo and smiled: "You must be Li Luo? I've heard about you for ages—finally get to meet you."

"Auntie, hello," Li Luo greeted politely. "Thank you for helping with the arrangements on my earlier songs."

"You thank Zhusheng instead—she's been under my watch since she was a baby; arranging music is just a small thing."

"If guests are coming over, why not have the cook come to your place?" Yuan Wanqing asked. "Aren't you planning to eat at home?"

"You've misunderstood, Auntie," Li Luo explained. "When we came, we bought some ingredients—we plan to cook a meal after recording, as thanks for her helping me record."

"You can cook?" Luo Fei exclaimed.

"And it's delicious," Yan Zhusheng said seriously. "Better than the cook's."

"Then I absolutely have to taste it," Luo Fei said with a grin. "Li Luo, you don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not," Li Luo smiled. "As long as both Aunties aren't disgusted."

"Dinner can wait," Yuan Wanqing's gaze settled on the microphone and the lyrics beside it. "Let me hear your new song first, how about that?"

Li Luo nodded.

Beside him, Yan Zhusheng picked up the over-ear headphones and put them back on Li Luo.

Watching this, Yuan Wanqing's eyes flickered slightly.