Chapter 75

"What are you two talking about?"

Ying Chanxi finished her shower, changed into a cute pink pajama set, stepped out with wet feet in slippers, a white Mao Jin draped over her head as she dried her hair, and asked the two in the living room.

Li Luo saw her come out, stood up, walked into the kitchen, scooped out the fried noodles for her, and brought them to the dining table.

Xu Youyu glanced at Li Luo, sighed, and complained to Ying Chanxi: "The other vice president of the literature club invited him to join, and he flat-out refused."

"I told them I knew him, so the president asked me to try too—turns out he's got zero respect for me."

Li Luo pushed the fried noodles in front of Ying Chanxi, instinctively pulled out a hair dryer from the drawer, plugged it in, walked behind her, and removed the Mao Jin from her head.

Hearing Xu Youyu's words, she rolled her eyes: "Didn't I just agree to you?"

Ying Chanxi was about to take her first bite of noodles, but upon hearing this, she immediately turned her head to look at Li Luo behind her.

"Just talk," Li Luo wiped his face silently, brushed off the water splashed by her hair, and gently turned her head back, "Don't move your head."

"Oh." Ying Chanxi puffed out her cheeks and turned back around, "Someone was saying just this evening they didn't want to join the literature club—I asked them to join with me, and they were annoyed."

"Heh." Li Luo smiled, tapped her head twice, "If you're willing to handle all the cleaning for a month, then I'll join too."

"Huh?" Ying Chanxi blinked, glancing at Xu Youyu across from her.

Noticing Ying Chanxi's gaze, Xu Youyu rolled her eyes: "This guy originally wanted me to wash his clothes for a whole month! So shameless."

"That really is shameless," Ying Chanxi tightened her face, thinking that if she had to choose, she'd pick washing clothes.

"Is washing clothes easier than cleaning?" Li Luo said seriously, "We've got a washing machine at home."

"Heh." Xu Youyu buried her face in her noodles, too lazy to argue over such trivial nonsense.

Back when she rented here, she'd already made a weekly cleaning schedule with the other seniors.

Now she's just doing it all herself.

Besides, the apartment isn't that dirty—everyone's at school during the day, so only the kitchen and bathroom need cleaning; everything else stays clean.

At that moment, Li Luo's phone on the table vibrated.

Ying Chanxi, eating noodles while enjoying Li Luo's hair-drying service, heard the vibration and kindly picked up his phone.

"Your call."

"Oh." Li Luo turned off the hair dryer, took the phone, and found it was Yan Zhusheng calling—he was momentarily baffled, wondering why she'd call at this hour.

But the moment he answered, Yan Zhusheng said to him: "Li Luo, I really like you. Can you be my boyfriend?"

Li Luo: "... What are you doing?"

"Recording a song," Yan Zhusheng replied honestly. "Hurry up and reject me."

"Wait… don't you live on campus? How are you recording in your dorm?" Li Luo replied, dumbfounded, then naturally set the hair dryer on the table and walked toward the bedroom.

Once inside the bedroom and the door shut, he heard Yan Zhusheng answer: "I took a leave of absence—I'm at home now."

"So?"

"I asked a teacher to arrange a gufeng-style composition, so now I can record 'Nianlun.'" Yan Zhusheng said. "I need to get into the mood."

Li Luo covered his forehead, looking pained, then took a deep breath: "Go ahead. I'm ready."

"Alright." Yan Zhusheng nodded and said again: "Li Luo, I really like you. Can you be my boyfriend?"

"Sorry, I'm not planning to date anyone right now," Li Luo coldly rejected.

The moment he finished speaking, the call ended.

Li Luo looked down at his phone in surprise, mentally swore, thinking: That was way too fast.

Used and discarded?

Still, despite the sarcasm, Li Luo acknowledged Yan Zhusheng's professional ability.

He'd gone to her house on Sunday, and now it was only Tuesday—she'd already finished the basic composition and was ready to record vocals.

But the timing was absolutely explosive.

Thank goodness he hadn't turned on speakerphone earlier—if Ying Chanxi and Xu Youyu had heard Yan Zhusheng's confession, he couldn't imagine how explosive the fallout would've been.

He put the phone in his pocket, walked out of the bedroom, and picked up the hair dryer again.

Ying Chanxi, still eating noodles, asked curiously: "Who called just now?"

"Yan Zhusheng."

"Huh?" Xu Youyu also looked curious. "She called you at this hour?"

"Yeah." Li Luo nodded and explained, "She took leave and came home to help me with the composition."

Li Luo didn't mention the song "Nianlun."

He'd previously told Yan Zhusheng to record this song precisely because he didn't want anyone else to know he wrote it.

After all, Xu Youyu had read his novels—if "Nianlun" came out and they connected the dots, she'd immediately realize he was Chongran.

That was absolutely unacceptable.

As for Ying Chanxi, he mainly feared his mother might accidentally slip up and tell her.

With Ying Chanxi's personality, if she found out one of the Online Novels was his, even if she never read them, she'd definitely check it out.

So Li Luo was doing his best to keep it hidden for now.

When the time finally came and he was exposed, he'd drag Xu Youyu down with him.

If he was going down, Sister Zao couldn't survive alone!

With this thought, Li Luo's mood lifted slightly.

Ying Chanxi, eating her noodles, said: "You should treat her well, Zhou."

"Alright, I'll let her know later."

…

Yuhang City downtown, Huayue Film and Television.

Outside a high-end recording studio.

After finishing his work, Ying Zhicheng didn't get off until past nine at night.

On his way out, he passed the company's recording studio and noticed the lights were still on, so he stopped in his tracks.

The secretary beside him immediately reminded him: "It's probably Yuan Wanqing recording—she's been polishing her new album these past few days."

"Oh, how did the song commission go?" Ying Zhicheng walked toward the studio door, asking casually.

"Yes, ten songs were custom-commissioned for this album, and all are confirmed."

"Good." Ying Zhicheng nodded, then walked to the studio door and knocked.

The door opened quickly from inside.

"Wanqing, still recording this late?" Ying Zhicheng smiled at the female singer inside, who looked to be in her early thirties.

"It's not that late," Yuan Wanqing replied. Though thirty-eight, she looked barely twenty-seven or twenty-eight, and she smiled politely at Ying Zhicheng's entrance. "After all, I can't let down your trust."

"Trust isn't the point—your health matters most. You've only just recovered from your heart condition; pay more attention to your sleep schedule." Ying Zhicheng stepped into the studio and sat down on the sofa.

"Mm, I'm almost done. I'll rest a bit and head home," Yuan Wanqing poured him a glass of water, and the two began chatting casually.

Yuan Wanqing was Huayue Film and Television's leading female singer at the turn of the century, having performed many beloved songs.

Unfortunately, her good fortune didn't last—she was diagnosed with heart disease in 2003, spent years receiving treatment abroad, then returned home for years of recuperation before her condition stabilized.

Now, over a decade later, Yuan Wanqing planned to re-enter the public eye, and Ying Zhicheng had arranged the transition.

While the two chatted, the sound engineer assisting Yuan Wanqing, Luo Fei, grew bored and hummed a little tune.

But Yuan Wanqing had sharp ears; she turned to her friend Luo Fei and asked curiously, "What song are you humming? It's not from my album, is it?"

"Huh?" Luo Fei blinked, then said, "Oh, that one? Yan Zhusheng asked me to arrange it—I just hummed a couple lines."

"Isn't she still in school?" Yuan Wanqing frowned. "She wrote it herself?"

"I don't know for sure—probably," Luo Fei shrugged. "Just a pop song, with a classical flavor."

"Oh?" Ying Zhicheng raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Your daughter writes songs? Can I hear it?"

"Sure," Yuan Wanqing nodded. "Fei Fei, play it."

"Wait a moment," Luo Fei gave a thumbs-up and smiled. "She just sent me a new version today—perfect timing."

Soon, Yan Zhusheng's voice filled the studio—melodious, tinged with quiet sorrow.

Just a few minutes.

The group was immersed in Yan Zhusheng's song.

After listening, Ying Zhicheng pondered silently, then suddenly said: "Our company has a xianxia romance drama in production—it's currently seeking a theme song. Would you consider submitting your daughter's song?"

"Huh?" Yuan Wanqing paused. "Really?"

"It's just an open call—no guarantee it'll be chosen," Ying Zhicheng smiled. "But there's no harm in trying."

"Then thank you, Manager Ying."

"No trouble at all. The song's quite good—catchy melody, real pop potential." As he spoke, he stood up and told the secretary, "Note this down. We're leaving now—get some rest too."

"Yes, Manager Ying, take care."

Yuan Wanqing saw Ying Zhicheng off, then turned to face Luo Fei.

"I'll copy a file and send it to your secretary," Luo Fei said.

"You handle it," Yuan Wanqing smiled, then instantly grew serious and asked abruptly, "Fei Fei… do you think Zhusheng is in love?"