Chapter 6

"I'm clearly just staying home all day with nothing to do..."

"Besides, if he hadn't provoked me, I wouldn't have kept staring at him..."

"Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated! So if I'm going to fight him to the bitter end, I can't afford to learn too much..."

Song Yihuan stood up with her hands on her hips and came up with eight hundred reasons in just three minutes.

Guoguo sat calmly with her chin resting on her hand, nodding at a steady pace with her eyes closed, at an extremely perfunctory frequency.

Song Yihuan fell silent mid-sentence. In a fit of despair, she slammed her hand on the sofa, exclaiming, "Ah! It wasn't taught in the textbook!"

Guoguo laughed at her: "Didn't you ever have any desires for anyone when you were in school?"

"First of all! I have no desire for Chi Ran... nothing like that!" Song Yihuan made rabbit ears with her hands, manually putting quotation marks around the two words she couldn't say, and continued, "Just curiosity, purely curiosity!"

"Besides, I didn't have a cell phone or computer in high school. My mom personally picked me up and dropped me off, like a mascot. Let alone... let alone that, I didn't even dare to have a tiny spark of affection." She sighed.

Guoguo: "Just curious?"

"Okay, okay, and there are these damn dreams I can't control!" Song Yihuan pinched her philtrum, "Strange spring."

Guoguo said it again: "Yihuan, when it's your turn, take it and face your desires."

Before Song Yihuan could complain about her rhyming, her phone rang again; it was Ms. Wang again.

You really shouldn't speak ill of your own mother behind her back.

When the call connected, Ms. Wang's tone was unusually serious and flustered. Song Yihuan sensed something was wrong and asked, "What happened?"

"How much longer will you be in quarantine?" she asked. "Are you able to go home in the next couple of days?"

"Is it urgent? Mom, don't scare me. Tell me what's going on." Song Yihuan was a little flustered.

"Your aunt hasn't been doing well these past few days, and she misses you too."

Song Yihuan choked up, a tremendous fear instantly engulfing her.

Guoguo grasped her hand and held it tightly.

Ms. Wang suddenly sighed, "That's not right either. I'm already out of it. If you come back, you'll infect her again."

Song Yihuan moved the phone away, took a few deep breaths, and then picked it up again, saying, "How about a video call? Is she in the ICU? What time can I visit?"

“Three o’clock in the afternoon,” Ms. Wang said, “but she might not be awake. If she’s feeling well, I’ll call you.”

“I have the ringer on,” Song Yihuan said.

After hanging up the phone, she sat there blankly for a long time without saying a word.

This phone call was actually very familiar. She had a similar experience during her first year of high school military training; she received a call from her mother, frantically asked for leave to go home and spend her father's last few days with him.

They said they were accompanying someone, but in reality, they were just waiting outside the ICU.

In the end, they didn't get a single word from him.

She wasn't in the mood to cook lunch, so Guoguo cooked two packets of instant noodles and even added luncheon meat and eggs, watching her eat.

"Eat some more," Guoguo said.

Song Yihuan put down her chopsticks: "I didn't eat much to begin with."

"You just dipped your chopsticks in the soup and licked it," Guoguo patted her hand. "Eat some more."

"I'm thinking about what to say to her later." Song Yihuan picked up a noodle with her chopsticks, but before putting it in her mouth, she put it back. "My mom told me to tell her it's okay, she'll pick her up from school soon. Isn't that just lying?"

Guoguo said, "Your aunt knows everything, so it's not lying."

“Then I definitely can’t say such… such comforting things,” Song Yihuan sighed. “But I really don’t know what else to say.”

"What can you say when faced with life and death?" Guoguo patted her. "Eat, and I'll think of something else for you."

Her anxiety continued until 3 p.m., but Ms. Wang did not call; she only sent her a message.

My aunt hasn't woken up yet, so I'm not video chatting with her.

Song Yihuan made a video call, but Ms. Wang hung up. She called again, and Ms. Wang hung up again.

I want to see my aunt.

Ms. Wang quickly replied: 【She's not awake, so don't bother looking at her.】

[Mom is worried that you'll be scared and upset if you see this.]

Song Yihuan stared blankly at the reply and didn't insist any further.

Her chest felt like it was filled with thick rain, making it hard to breathe. The surrounding sounds suddenly became indistinct, and she seemed frozen in place, unable to move.

In my mind, I pictured my father before he passed away, looking emaciated and suffering from severe jaundice.

Ms. Wang is wrong.

Actually, it's painful and scary not to watch it.

/

"You dare."

Chi Ran kicked the stool over with a loud bang.

"If you dare to sell my song to him, you sell it, I'll terminate the contract. I'm telling you this."

After saying that, he didn't give the other person a chance to react and double-tap the screen to hang up the phone.

Qian Yu was conducting a scientific experiment in the kitchen when he heard the noise, so he quickly turned off the stove and came out.

The living room was a mess. The coffee table was empty; the chair he kicked over had knocked everything off the table. Even the tea set was pulled to the floor and smashed to pieces, leaving shards everywhere.

"Brother Ran, why don't you go back inside and wait?" Qian Yu spoke first before helping him up, kicking the shards aside with his toe to clear a path.

Chi Ran followed along, his neck veins bulging, breathing heavily due to lack of oxygen.

After bringing the man inside, Qian Yu advised, "The industry is so small, you're bound to run into him. If he wants to buy your song, can Brother Wen really say no? Calm down."

"If it were you, could you calm down?" Chi Ran leaned against the piano, tapping her fingers irritably.

Qian Yu frankly admitted: "If I were given a share of the profits, I wouldn't be angry at all."

Chi Ran remained silent for a long time, then said, "...It's unnecessary to ask you."

"I'll go cook," Qian Yu said, walking out of his bedroom and towards the kitchen.

Chi Ran stopped him: "Don't tell Sister Ying."

"Sister Ying." Qian Yu turned the range hood up to its highest setting, closed the kitchen door, and called Sister Ying. "I can't persuade her."

The seasoned agent on the other end of the phone remained relatively calm, only sighing, "I know, I didn't expect you to be able to persuade me."

"He just hung up on Brother Wen," Qian Yu said. "He dares to hang up on the boss, how scary! Sister Ying, will I be implicated?"

Sister Ying was too lazy to deal with this money-grubber and said, "Zhou Ting is one of the top producers in the industry. How can we, a small and shabby music production company, just say we won't sell?"

"I told him, but he wouldn't listen to me." Qian Yu poured some soy sauce into the tomato and egg drop soup.

Sister Ying: "Don't worry about it, I'll give you advice. You should focus on cooking, his body can't take it if he gets any thinner."

"Mmm." Qian Yu replied while squeezing some more oyster sauce into the soup.

In October of the year before last, Chi Ran had been blind for half a year, and in the past six months, he had not written a single song.

At that time, he was still signed to Agnes Chow's company. He spent half a year relearning all the skills of composing and arranging music, but he had already been forgotten by the market and was "exiled" by Agnes Chow to write songs for some obscure underground idol group.

Compared to his past, the fall is no less than falling from a height of 10,000 meters into a grave and waiting to be buried.

Before that thin disability certificate weighed him down, his world was full of light, light in every sense of the word.

He started writing songs at the age of fifteen and gained some fame online. During his university summer vacation, he participated in a music composition and arrangement program, which catapulted him to fame. After that, he received numerous offers and collaborated with everyone from popular celebrities to superstars, enjoying great success.

The altar was too low for him, too easy to climb, and he was too young; he was always arrogant and frivolous. This attitude must have long since angered his then-boss, Zhou Ting, who, after his fall from grace, humiliated him in countless ways.

"If you're still worried, then take a look at the score." The middle-aged man's hoarse, grating voice rang out.

Then, a thin piece of paper was stuffed into my hand; its edges were very sharp and could cut my hand.

Chi Ran no longer had the confidence he once had. He gripped the paper tightly and said with restraint, "The version in the rehearsal hall just now wasn't written by me. The chorus was raised in key and the verse was changed. It was very abrupt."

Zhou Ting didn't respond, but pretended to say, "Oh, I almost forgot you can't read it. Um, little one, bring the sheet music over and hum it for Teacher Chi."

The paper was taken away again, and my hand was cut painfully.

The person who was called over hummed the song; it was his original melody.

When the actual performance came, Chi Ran sat backstage, listening to the song that had been completely altered.

He grabbed Zhou Ting's clothes and argued with him, but Zhou Ting smiled contemptuously: "This is what you wrote."

"No!" Chi Ran recited the changed parts from memory, flipping through the sheet music on her phone as she spoke, then holding it up to him with both hands. "These have all been changed. What I originally wrote was..."

“It’s written in black and white on the sheet music that this is the version they’re singing,” Zhou Ting said. “You can’t just imagine it if you can’t see it.”

Chi Ran felt a chill run down his spine; the overly bright spotlight on the stage occasionally swept over him, stinging his eyes.

He had no evidence whatsoever, no grounds for argument.

Isolated and helpless.

As the performance on stage entered the chorus, amidst the unified singing, a discordant voice sang the original song in its unkeyd version.

Clinging to a straw, Chi Ran argued loudly with Zhou Ting: "Look, look! You say it wasn't changed, so why is she singing the original song?"

Zhou Ting sneered and blatantly lied: "That's harmony."

"You should get checked again. Besides your eyesight, make sure you don't develop any chronic illnesses," he said with concern.

Later, when he became a content creator, he only posted the finished songs and never the original sheet music.

Emerging from his memories, he ran his fingertips along the piano keys, trying to calm his overwhelming anger, mixed with unease and helplessness.

His phone suddenly beeped; it was Sister Ying calling him.

"I knew he'd tell you," Chi Ran cursed as soon as she answered the phone. "Traitor."

“Even if he doesn’t tell me, the boss will eventually,” Sister Ying sighed. “Can’t you change your temper?”

Chi Ran didn't say anything.

He knew that Sister Ying was in a difficult position, and Qian Yu was in a difficult position, but he couldn't stand it.

He could tolerate Zhou Ting humiliating him because he deserved it, but he could not tolerate Zhou Ting insulting his work.

"Circumstances are beyond our control; you surely understand this better than I do," Sister Ying said softly. "If people are always looking back, won't they become trapped? Legally speaking, a company can sell songs without the original artist's consent; you know that. Even though it's not required, Brother Wen still called you. Have you ever thought about why? It's out of consideration for him..."

As Chi Ran listened to the long-winded psychological counseling, she felt even more suffocated in her chest.

He walked along the wall to the door and said to the kitchen, "I'm going to get some fresh air!"

Before Qian Yu could respond, he pushed open the door and went out, standing by the window in the corridor, facing the glaring sunlight, listening to the rambling on the other end of the phone.

“Brother Wen wouldn’t have done this if he had no other choice,” Sister Ying sighed. “Brother Wen was tricked by Zhou Ting before and signed a problematic contract. If this song isn’t sold, the penalty for breach of contract could bankrupt the company.”

"Since it's a scheme, why not take legal action?" Chi Ran retorted.

"Sues don't cost money?" Sister Ying said. "The difference in company size is so big, he can drag us down just by dragging things out in court."

"So you just accept defeat? Why should you just back down like that? If you don't try to find a solution..."

Yingjie got a little angry at his question and interrupted him, saying, "You're really going to drive me crazy. If I were to hit you, I'd have to pay for it. You have such a temper."

Chi Ran clenched his fists and roared, "I'll pay! I'll pay!"

"Fine. You can pay up, even selling yourself wouldn't be enough."

"Even if I have to sell myself, I'll fight him to the bitter end!"

Chi Ran hung up the phone after she finished speaking.

He pressed his head against the warm glass, feeling the blurry halo of light, and his eyes felt warm too.

"You want to sell yourself?" A familiar voice came from behind. "Really?"

He turned around and, in the boundless halo of light, vaguely sensed a flame-like pink.

The pink hue leaped and trembled, and so did the voice: "Then sell it to me."