Chapter 359: Ying Chanxi

Starting from mid-August, Weibo's trending topics could be said to follow a weekly cycle.

Even during the National Day holiday, it remained the same.

After last night's "Ru Yuan" was released, it immediately topped the trending list, with new posts under related topics constantly refreshing.

Many who listened to the song posted their opinions online one after another.

【The song is truly good, but is number one too exaggerated? It feels like it's riding the novelty wave of a new release—old songs are clearly at a disadvantage here.】

【I also think the National Day sentiment contributed—otherwise, I don't think it would've ranked first.】

【Those who say it shouldn't be number one are probably still young and can't understand this song.】

【I myself am fine, but I think the lyrics are truly excellent, and Yuan Wanqing's singing is outstanding—my dad actually cried while listening.】

【My grandfather cried too—he's a Korean War veteran from the early days of the PRC. When he reached the end, he couldn't help standing up to salute. After the song ended, he held my hand and said the future truly belongs to our generation of young people.】

【This is so awkward… is it really that extreme? Could this be bot traffic?】

【Bot traffic your mom! I'm young too, and I nearly cried—anyone who knows a bit of history knows how good this song is.】

【New-era red songs should be written like this—telling stories and expressing gratitude from a youth's perspective, while never forgetting our new-era mission: to take up the torch passed down from the older generation.】

【"The mountains and rivers remain unharmed, the smoke and fire ordinary"—these eight characters are written so beautifully. Isn't this exactly the good life our ancestors fought hard to give us?】

【And that line, "See the world you never saw, write the poems you never wrote"—I'm a grown man, but I completely broke down. Thinking of those revolutionary martyrs who died not knowing if they'd won, never seeing the people's happy life after the founding of the nation—I truly feel heartbroken.】

【They must have seen it from heaven—we've become their eyes, seeing for them. I couldn't hold back tears when I heard Yuan Wanqing sing "Every day of this prosperous era"—thinking of all we have now, it truly came at great cost.】

【I also think the last two lines of this song are great: "I'll meet you, life clear and pure, like your youthful face." The word "clear" is used so powerfully!】

【Why is no one praising Yuan Wanqing? Don't you think her entire performance was brilliant? In the first verse, her enunciation of "mountain mist" created a hazy feeling; later, in the first chorus, her emotion was still restrained—but when she reached "the mountains and rivers remain unharmed," paired with the live harmonies, all the built-up emotion exploded at once—perfectly executed.】

【You can search for Yuan Wanqing's stage performances from over a decade ago—back then, her vocal technique was still immature, relying purely on youthful vigor. Now, she truly gives off a sense of effortless mastery.】

【Over ten years… she's been sick all this time, yet still kept refining her singing—this is truly her well-deserved reward.】

【Actually, all this is fine—but the most insane thing shouldn't be the lyricist and composer, Chongran? He's now handled seven songs, and I bet the remaining two are his too.】

【I thought "The Sky Has No Limits" was already explosive, but he truly has no limits—after a king's move comes another king's move; "Ru Yuan" is even more incredible than the last one.】

【This new album truly deserves to be called a divine album—I feel every song has strong memorability, each one a hit, it's just insane.】

【Each song could be a lead single—yet Chongran is just an online novelist.】

【He writes entertainment fiction—earlier he plagiarized classic songs, now he's directly composing his own, plagiarizing himself. I even suspect he only created this album to promote his novel.】

【That's still too insane—how much money can he even make from writing novels?】

【Um… according to netizens' estimates, his novel has already earned at least hundreds of thousands—quite profitable… but the digital album has already sold hundreds of thousands of copies on QQ Music; with "Ru Yuan" out, a million is certain—9 yuan per copy, I wonder how much of nearly ten million he'll get.】

【I think a million copies won't be enough—after "The Sky Has No Limits" came out, album sales already broke 800,000; with "Ru Yuan" this explosive, selling two million is perfectly normal.】

【Has any digital album ever sold two million copies?】

【It might break a record.】

【So who the hell is Chongran?】

At 12:00 PM on October 3rd, the search term "Who is Chongran?" rapidly climbed to the top three of Weibo's trending list, even briefly surpassing "Yuan Wanqing's Ru Yuan" for a short while.

For the rest of the day, it remained steadily within the top five.

All kinds of rumors flew online, and naturally, some classmates who knew Li Luo couldn't resist leaking info.

But since they were obscure and offered little concrete evidence, and the real situation was too surreal, hardly anyone believed them.

Instead, some netizens' bold guesses gained widespread acceptance.

【I think he's probably the second-generation scion of a musical family—with a scholarly background, otherwise he couldn't write lyrics like this.】

【Earlier I doubted a young person wrote these lyrics, but after hearing "Ru Yuan," I believe only a young person's vitality could produce a red song from this perspective.】

【With nothing else to do lately, I checked out his novel—how to put it… it's not my genre, just plagiarized songs and love stories—it's really hard to connect him with the songwriter Chongran.】

【His novel is great—I really like reading it, perfect for relaxing in spare time. And you guys who don't read online novels don't know—he's a breath of fresh air in the male-oriented harem genre, with a refreshingly light style.】

【I know Chongran! He's a student at Yuhang Yinjiang No. 1 High School!】

【Stop being delusional—given how secretive he is, if he were really a high school student, wouldn't the rumor have spread long ago and he'd have been forced to speak up?】

【I think he's probably a college student—high school student is too absurd, impossible.】

【I know Chongran—he graduated from Berkeley and returned to China last year; we even had dinner and chatted—he mentioned his novel, and we didn't think much of it at the time, but who knew he'd use original songs to make his book explode in popularity.】

"Li Luo, you're amazing," Ying Chanxi said, holding her phone and sharing Weibo comments on the sofa. When she saw this one, she couldn't help laughing: "He even claims he studied abroad."

Li Luo leaned over to glance, then gave a look of utter disbelief: "This guy really spins wild tales—he sounds so convincing."

But precisely because so many people were stirring up chaos to attract attention, the explosive leaks from those classmates who couldn't hold back sank without a trace—hardly anyone believed them.

Li Luo's true identity was thus successfully hidden.

Yet in the old Class 8 WeChat group, people occasionally @ Li Luo, forwarding messages from across the internet.

Almost all of them discussed "Ru Yuan" and Chongran.

【Zhang Guohuang】: Fuck! I tell the truth and no one believes me! These people are so stupid!

【Zhu Yufei】: What did you say this time?

【Zhang Guohuang】: Someone claimed our monitor graduated from Berkeley—I couldn't hold back and argued with him for a while. That idiot was so ridiculous, swearing so confidently I almost thought I was wrong.

【Li Luo】: Watch your mouth, kid. Wait till after National Day.

【Zhang Guohuang】: Cough cough, monitor, even if I wanted to expose you now, no one would believe me—the internet barely believes anything.

【Li Luo】: Exactly—do you think that's why you're still alive till after National Day?

The group erupted in laughter and chatter.

After reviewing the trending situation, Li Luo finally breathed a little easier.

At least for now, as long as he didn't show up himself, the risk of exposure was minimal.

After all, he was just a behind-the-scenes creator, fundamentally different from stars like Yuan Wanqing who perform on stage.

People would just be curious for a while—after "I Am a Singer" ended, they'd soon forget him.

However, as the few of them were lounging on the sofa, chatting casually after dinner, Li Guohong, who had just prepared to leave for the hot pot restaurant, received a phone call.

After a brief exchange, Li Guohong froze for a moment, then turned toward Li Luo and said, "Li Luo."

"What is it, Dad?"

"Your uncle called—he said someone from a company came to our door, wanting to discuss a collaboration with you," Li Guohong said, his expression odd; he never imagined their small company would attract unsolicited visitors, especially ones he'd never heard of before.

"What kind of collaboration?" Li Luo was equally confused.

Li Guohong asked a few more questions, then told Li Luo, "It's an entertainment company—the kind that signs artists—they want to commission songs for their performers, and they found their way here."

Li Luo blinked, then realized: "Commission songs?"

"Yes."

"I see…" Li Luo's initial surprise gave way to a quiet understanding.

After all, the quality of the nine songs on Yuan Wanqing's new album was enough to prove Chongran's songwriting ability.

If only one or two of the nine songs had gone viral, one might still attribute it to a stroke of inspiration.

After all, there were plenty of lyricists and composers in the industry who occasionally wrote one or two hits, then vanished into obscurity.

But if all nine songs went viral in succession, it could no longer be called coincidence—it was real talent.

At the very least, it was worth inviting them to commission.

Li Luo thought for a moment, deciding it wouldn't hurt to give his parents something to do, so he nodded to Li Guohong and said, "Tell them to send over their song commission requirements and budget—we'll talk details later."

"You're really going to write songs for them?" Li Guohong asked.

"If they're willing to pay, and the price is right, why not?" Li Luo said. "But song commissions are a two-way thing, so let's just talk for now—whether it works out remains to be seen."

"Alright." Li Guohong nodded, spoke a few more words to Li Guoru on the other end, then said, "I won't go to the hot pot restaurant this afternoon—I'll head back to the company and make some preparations."

"You should consult Lawyer Tian," Li Luo reminded him. "He's quite experienced in copyright matters—we can work with him more in the future."

"Got it."

If anyone else had come to commission songs, Li Luo wouldn't have been willing to part with the good ones he remembered.

But these days, singers don't need top-tier quality—just enough to draw traffic.

If the standard was lowered to that level, there were indeed plenty of options.

Songs like "Parting Blossoms," those viral TikTok hits, Li Luo couldn't bring himself to give to Yuan Wanqing or Yan Zhusheng—it would be too embarrassing to hand them something so lowbrow.

Better to sell them to strangers and make some money.

Li Guohong and Lin Xiuhong would finally have something to do, instead of spending all day just cooking for them and doing nothing else.

"You're writing songs for others?" After Li Guohong left, Yan Zhusheng fixed her gaze on Li Luo and whispered, "I want one too—I'll make Mom pay for it. Don't give them yours."

Li Luo: "... The ones I sell to others won't be as good as the ones I write for you. Don't fight over them."

"Then let me see them first when you finish," Yan Zhusheng said seriously. "If I like them, I'll take them—I'll have Mom pay you whatever they offer."

Li Luo couldn't help but laugh and sigh: "That's ruthless—you're leaving them nothing?"

"I'm not ruthless," Yan Zhusheng pouted. "You're the ruthless one."

After finishing their casual chat on the sofa, they moved to the desk and began studying seriously.

The two mothers finished cleaning the kitchen, slipped out quietly, put on their shoes, and left, leaving the study space to them. Only after stepping outside did they begin chatting with smiles.

Since the summer vacation, Lin Xiuhong and Cui Suling's relationship had grown steadily warmer.

Not only did they cook together when visiting, but they also scheduled mahjong sessions, occasionally went together to nearby parks to dance and stroll, and had become like sisters.

That evening, after Zhao Rongjun and the other two left, Yan Zhusheng received a phone call.

After hanging up, Yan Zhusheng told Li Luo, "After Mom made it to the finals, the live broadcast is on the 9th—I have to go with her to sing the song you prepared for us."

"Mm." Li Luo nodded with a smile. "I've been looking forward to it."

The grand finale of "I Am a Singer," also known as the King of Singers battle.

The winner will be awarded the title "King of Singers."

The live broadcast is divided into two stages.

The first is the duet segment—each finalist can invite a friend from the industry to perform a song with them.

The second is the final performance segment—each finalist sings their own chosen final song alone.

Because Li Luo had written a song well-suited for mother-daughter duet, after confirming her place in the finals, Yuan Wanqing didn't hesitate and invited her daughter to join her for the finale.

"The 9th is Friday. Since we need to rehearse ahead of time, I have to leave with Mom on the 8th," Yan Zhusheng continued. "I've already asked Professor Kong for leave—I won't be going to school on the 8th, 9th, or 10th."

"Leave?" Ying Chanxi was surprised. "So you won't be here with us for three days?"

"Mm." Yan Zhusheng nodded.

"Then… be careful when you're out," Ying Chanxi stepped forward and hugged Yan Zhusheng. "I'll miss you."

The two girls pressed close affectionately.

Time passed quickly, like a blink.

On the morning of the 8th, Yan Zhusheng was picked up early by Yuan Wanqing's chauffeur-driven car and flew to Hulan.

Ying Chanxi, delighted, went alone with Li Luo—she didn't bother waking up Xu Youyu, who was still sleeping in—and the two of them ran in the schoolyard, ate breakfast together, then walked to class.

Even in class, Ying Chanxi picked up her textbook and sat in Yan Zhusheng's seat, neatly arranging the book, lips pursed, cheeks flushed, too shy to look at Li Luo—she just blinked at the blackboard.

Li Luo watched her antics and couldn't help but chuckle.

Qiao Xinyan in front turned around with a blank expression, but Ying Chanxi quickly shoved her back.

The teacher, though puzzled by Ying Chanxi sitting in Li Luo's usual seat, simply assumed she'd switched seats.

Other classmates, upon hearing Yan Zhusheng was absent and seeing Ying Chanxi in her empty seat, wore expressions ranging from subtle to bewildered.

The well-read students of Class 8, familiar with the Bible, wore knowing smiles.

Others were merely surprised.

Liu Shaowen and Xie Shuchen, however, comforted themselves easily: cousins, after all—wanting to sit together in class was perfectly normal.

And in this atmosphere, Ying Chanxi finally experienced fully for the first time what it was like to sit next to Li Luo in high school.

At noon, they ate together, went to the student council meeting together, then returned to the classroom together.

After Li Luo sat down, Ying Chanxi pulled out a light yellow cushion from her desk drawer—it was the same model as Li Luo's and Yan Zhusheng's.

But it wasn't over yet.

Ying Chanxi sat on Yan Zhusheng's seat, clutching the cushion, glanced around, then pulled a Bluetooth earbud from her pocket and placed one into Li Luo's palm, her face flushed as she whispered, "Y-you wear one, I'll wear one—we can listen to music."

Li Luo stared at the earbud in his hand, confronted by this utterly familiar scene, said nothing, and silently put it on.

Seeing Li Luo wear the earbud, Ying Chanxi happily slipped the other one into her own ear, tapped play on her phone, then leaned back against the cushion, turning her head to look at Li Luo.

They gazed at each other; Ying Chanxi's cheeks burned under his stare, and she couldn't help whispering, "You close your eyes first."

"You close yours first."

"No, you close yours first."

If she closed her eyes first, the thought of Li Luo still watching her would keep her from sleeping.

So after finally getting Li Luo to close his eyes, Ying Chanxi looked at his face, listened to the soft music in her earbud, and gradually relaxed, feeling a deep warmth.

"Li Luo," Ying Chanxi whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Can we listen to music together during lunch breaks from now on?"

"Hmm… huh?"

"What? Is that not okay?"

"…I suppose… it's fine."