Chapter 6: Simply Willful
“Young Master Zheng! Young Master Zheng! I found a song on Tianlai during lunch that is just incredibly good! It’s so moving—I’ve cried listening to it several times already. You absolutely have to hear it.”
Zheng Wenxin had barely sat down in class when his desk mate, Ye Rui, began chattering away at him. Zheng Wenxin looked at him, his eyes filled with helplessness.
Ye Rui was a slightly chubby boy with a round face and an endless supply of words. He was obsessed with music, particularly with scouting out hidden gems on original music platforms. He held VIP memberships on every major site, and for a large-scale platform like Tianlai, he was a Senior VIP user. Zheng Wenxin had been pestered by him so much in the past that he’d eventually been forced to register an ID on Tianlai as well.
“Quick, give me your phone. I’ll find the song for you so you can listen.” Ye Rui didn’t even wait for a reply. He snatched Zheng Wenxin’s phone, opened Tianlai—which was set to auto-login—and showed Zheng Wenxin’s ID: Young Master Zheng.
Ye Rui navigated to the page for the song I Don’t Love before handing the phone back, looking at his friend with a face full of anticipation.
Zheng Wenxin was truly speechless when it came to Ye Rui, but he was used to it. At first, he would irritably tell the “little fatty” to shut up or glare at him with a cold face, but it was useless! The boy seemed like his natural nemesis, sent specifically to torment him. No matter how bad his attitude was—even when he practically had ‘Stay away from me’ written on his face—this guy would still approach him time and again to ramble incessantly. Even if Zheng Wenxin didn’t say a single word back, Ye Rui could keep a conversation going all by himself.
To avoid being pestered to death, Zheng Wenxin resigned himself to paying for the online streaming rights and left a comment.
“Class is starting. I’ll listen after it’s over.” Seeing this, the little fatty finally stopped staring at him. For some reason, Zheng Wenxin felt a wave of relief.
Since I bought it, I might as well listen later. Otherwise, this guy will just keep bothering me! Zheng Wenxin felt quite stifled, but he couldn’t bring himself to actually bully the boy. At the beginning, it was annoying, but now that he was used to it, it was okay. Perhaps if Ye Rui were gone one day, he might even feel out of sorts?
Ye Rui indeed planned to hover over Zheng Wenxin after class to make sure he listened. It had to be said that Zheng Wenxin knew him very well.
When class finally ended and the teacher left the room, Ye Rui immediately turned to Zheng Wenxin. His sparkling eyes practically screamed: Listen! Listen! Listen!
This wasn’t the first time Ye Rui had introduced a song to him, and Zheng Wenxin never found the recommendations particularly amazing. Generally speaking, they were decent for newcomer original songs, but he didn’t mind listening. He didn’t have many hobbies anyway, and he certainly didn’t care about the small amount of money.
He took out his phone, still on the song page. Zheng Wenxin put on his wireless earbuds and pressed play.
Ye Rui watched him the whole time. Seeing Zheng Wenxin listening intently—rather than stopping halfway through like before—his grin grew wider and wider. He knew this song was amazing. Let’s see if Zheng Wenxin would still say his standards were too low this time!
Only after the song finished did Zheng Wenxin look at the song information. He hadn’t even noticed the title before.
The lyricist, composer, and singer were all the same person. It seemed this ‘Xiahou’ was an all-around talent. He scrolled down to the comment section. There were very few comments, but every single one was praise. He clicked through to the singer’s homepage and found only this one song. Checking the registration time… well, the account was only created yesterday. In that case, this level of popularity wasn’t surprising.
He pressed replay and didn’t take off his earbuds until the next class started. No matter how much Ye Rui wanted to talk, he had to hold it in.
While the teacher lectured at the front, Zheng Wenxin was in a daze. The teachers were long since accustomed to this. Zheng Wenxin could get a perfect score even if he slept in class every day. His parents had already spoken to the school; he was essentially free to do as he pleased. If he didn’t want to show up, he just had to call the head teacher and say so.
It’s good! It’s really good!
After a moment of thought, Zheng Wenxin ignored the fact that class was in session, put his earbuds back on, and started the song on a loop.
This was the first time in his life that Young Master Zheng felt a song was truly beautiful. The more he listened, the more he felt this newcomer was formidable.
He didn’t cry like the little fatty did, but he couldn’t deny that the song’s emotional resonance was incredibly strong. After listening for a while, his heart felt heavy. Fortunately, the emotions expressed weren’t oppressive; behind the sadness, there was a sense of moving on. This was the first time Young Master Zheng had experienced such a rich range of emotions.
Zheng Wenxin had grown up smoothly. With his high IQ, elite family background, and family members who doted on him, his moods were usually simple and superficial: helplessness, speechlessness, boredom, or at most, irritation and dislike.
What was heartache? What was sorrow? He had never known. He experienced happiness, but it was never profound. Occasionally, he wondered if he had some kind of emotional deficit disorder, but after checking online, it didn’t seem that serious, so he stopped caring.
Why is there only one song? Zheng Wenxin felt conflicted. Perhaps he could experience even more emotions from other works.
With his head bowed, Zheng Wenxin tapped away at his phone and posted a long review, giving the song high praise. He thought that such a good song and such a talented singer shouldn’t be buried. It was rare for him to like a song this much.
…
Meanwhile, at the Night Color Bar, Xiahou Qian had just finished his song list. It was just past 6:00 PM, and he still had an hour before he was due on stage. Bored, he pulled out his phone and opened Tianlai. He found that his followers, downloads, and play counts had all grown. Several new comments had appeared, the most prominent being from an ID called Young Master Zheng.
[Young Master Zheng: This is the first time I’ve liked a song, and the first time I’ve used the loop function. The only pity is that the singer only has one work. The melody of “I Don’t Love” isn’t noisy, and the lyrics aren’t flashy, but the singer’s deep, youthful voice makes it feel incredibly refreshing. I believe the effect would be even better if recorded with professional equipment, but even as it is, it’s excellent. Xiahou, I intend to establish a fan club in your name. If you agree, please contact me via private message on this site.] [(3 hours ago)]
Xiahou Qian could sense the serious attitude in Young Master Zheng’s comment. He felt a good impression of the person for asking permission first instead of just acting on their own—even though the ID sounded quite chuunibyou.
After thinking it over, Xiahou Qian opened his friend requests, accepted Young Master Zheng, and sent him a private message. Xiahou Qian had set most of his Tianlai profile to private, and PMs were only allowed from friends.
[To Young Master Zheng: Hello, I saw your comment. Thank you for your support. I am interested in the idea of a fan club, but I’m currently on my own. Operation and management require people, so I was planning to wait a while. Regardless, thank you for your kind offer.]
To Xiahou Qian’s surprise, the reply came almost instantly.
[From Young Master Zheng: If you trust me, I can help you manage it. I have two people on my end right now. My suggestion is to apply for a livestream room first. You can pin the room number on your homepage, and we can act as moderators for the time being.]
[To Young Master Zheng: Your suggestion is good, but these things take a lot of time and energy. Are you sure this isn’t just a whim? Honestly, starting a fan club isn’t easy; it takes capability as well as time.]
Although he did need people to handle these things, Xiahou Qian preferred quality over quantity. If he was going to do something, he wanted it done right.
[From Young Master Zheng: If I tell you my age, you definitely won’t be at ease. If I tell you I’m a genius, you’ll think I’m crazy. But I really am a genius—the kind who can flip through a textbook and get a perfect score every time. Well, except when I leave it blank or lose a few points on an essay. To be honest, some people probably want to kill me for saying that. But after having everything others dream of… looks, family, money, even affection… having the best of everything has left me with zero goals in life.]
[From Young Master Zheng: After hearing your song, I felt like maybe I could do something. I admire your musical talent; I can feel such rich emotions in it, something I never had before. I want to see you develop better and create more great works. Don’t worry about the funding for the fan club; that bit of money is nothing to me. Just treat it as a gift from a fan. ^_^]
Seeing the two long paragraphs sent in such a short time, Xiahou Qian’s first thought was that this “Young Master Zheng” was an incredibly fast typist. After reading, he couldn’t help but chuckle. He found the kid quite interesting—a wealthy, idle genius boy. He probably wasn’t very old, but given his “genius” status, Xiahou Qian figured his capabilities were likely decent.
[To Young Master Zheng: I believe you’re a genius and I believe in your capability. But there is one final question: how long can you stick with this? I don’t plan on changing fan club presidents every few days.]
[From Young Master Zheng: You don’t need to worry about that. Even if I truly don’t want to do it later, I can hire professional managers to handle it for me until you find a suitable replacement. Having money is great; I can be as willful as I want.]
[From Young Master Zheng: I have another little fan of yours here, ID: You Xiaohuai. I’m going to make him my assistant. Once the livestream room grows and you have more fans, you can select more moderators from them.]
[From Young Master Zheng: How about this? If possible, tell me your address. I’ll go to your place this weekend for a face-to-face talk. If we reach an agreement, even if there’s no salary, it’s necessary to sign a contract. That way, you won’t have to worry about me doing anything bad in your name.]
Xiahou Qian hadn’t expected Young Master Zheng to be so thorough. The boy really was likely a young master from a rich family, taking on these tasks simply because he liked the music, without seeking fame or profit.
Probably very few people could afford to be so willful. Young Master Zheng clearly had the capital, the genius brains, and apparently, his family didn’t keep him on a tight leash.
Xiahou Qian thought about the request to meet for a long time before deciding to agree. Meeting him would be good; since the boy wasn’t afraid of the trouble, Xiahou Qian felt it would be pretentious to refuse. However, he didn’t plan on giving out his home address. Instead, he suggested a nearby teahouse and they exchanged phone numbers.
[From Young Master Zheng: See you Sunday afternoon then.]
[To Young Master Zheng: Alright, see you then.]
…
Around 7:00 PM, the occupancy rate at Night Color Bar had already reached one-third. After reviewing the song list, Wang Wei decided to use backing tracks. After all, the band hadn’t worked with Xiahou Qian yet and there had been no time to rehearse; using a track was safer to avoid mistakes.
Amidst the dim lights, Xiahou Qian walked onto the stage. He sat on a high stool with a microphone stand positioned before him.
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