This Was the Song I Wanted

After Zhang Han finished tidying up the kitchen, he took a rag and walked over to the white dining table.

He picked up the small stack of hundred-yuan bills on it and put them into the drawer of the computer counter without even looking at them.

The three of them had eaten five servings of Egg Fried Rice and drunk six cups of milk and goat's milk in total. Yu Qingqing had enjoyed herself so much that she directly left 2,100 yuan. Normally, five servings of Egg Fried Rice would cost 1,400 yuan, and six cups of milk would cost 480 yuan, so the total should have been just 1,880 yuan.

But Yu Qingqing had calculated it differently. She had counted each serving of Egg Fried Rice as 300 yuan and each cup of milk as 100 yuan, making 1,500 plus 600—a total of 2,100 yuan.

Zhang Han was too lazy to check the money, though. To him, money was merely a number. Although he did not have much of it at the moment, Zhang Han had never worried that he would lack money to spend in the future.

He threw the paper boxes and utensils from the table into the trash can. After wiping the table, his phone rang.

He glanced at the time. It was only eight o'clock, so the person calling at this hour was Ziyan, who chatted with Mengmeng every day.

"Zhang Han." Ziyan's voice was as ethereal as ever, but Zhang Han could still detect a hint of fatigue.

"Mm."

"You always answer with 'mm' and 'ah.' Are you really that unwilling to talk to me?" Ziyan sounded somewhat displeased.

For some reason, whenever she heard Zhang Han's indifferent "mm" and "ah," Ziyan became so angry her teeth itched! If she had been by his side, there would have been no need to think about it—she would definitely have launched into a furious lecture.

Zhang Han, on the other hand, was confused every time.

You called me just to say my name. What do you want me to say to you?

There was a brief silence on the phone before Ziyan's voice turned cold. "Give the phone to Mengmeng. I want to talk to her!"

"Oh." Zhang Han nodded and walked toward Mengmeng. After hesitating for a moment, he asked, "How's the music video shoot going? You sound a little tired."

"Hmph! Now that sounds like something a normal person would say." Ziyan gave a light snort, and her tone softened by three parts. "It is pretty tiring. Yesterday, we filmed until three in the morning, and I only slept for four hours. In a while, I still have to go shoot some outdoor scenes in the suburbs. We have to finish filming before the tenth. I'll go back and rest for a day on the eleventh, then I have a commercial performance at Victoria Harbour on the twelfth. On the thirteenth, I have to review the final production of the song, and on the fourteenth, there's a promotional press conference."

Zhang Han's brows furrowed slightly when he heard that. "Is it necessary to work this hard?"

It was the information age. She could record a few excellent songs at home, and when she got bored, put on a couple of concerts. That would be enough.

But Ziyan was busy with music videos, commercial performances, press conferences, and all kinds of other work. In Zhang Han's eyes, it was all far too hectic. If she had not drunk Pure Yang Water, her fatigue would probably have been twice as bad.

Besides, what did being a celebrity matter? In the end, money was nothing but fleeting cloud. As an immortal cultivator, he would eventually leave Earth with Mengmeng and his family. After all, when one person attained the Dao, even his chickens and dogs ascended to Heaven. Uh... Ziyan should... more or less count as part of the family too, right?

"I want to spend more time with Mengmeng too, but I can't. I need to make money so I can give Mengmeng a good education and a life free from worries about food and clothing. Besides, I haven't earned the reputation of being an empress of the silver screen yet. I've been retired for five years, and in this rapidly developing information age, people are about to forget me. If I make a comeback, I have to work harder than everyone else to have any chance of succeeding," Ziyan said slowly.

In truth, she was under tremendous pressure. Anyone in her position would have been. At a time like this, a woman desperately needed a man to help shoulder that pressure. But in her eyes, given Zhang Han's temperament and his opinion of the entertainment industry, he was unlikely to be of any help to her.

"Mm. Then do as you see fit. Take good care of yourself out there. Don't worry about making money—there's me at home, so we won't run out of it." Zhang Han hesitated briefly before naturally saying something caring.

"Thank you." Ziyan's voice softened by another three parts, and there was a hint of amusement in it. "By the way, Mengmeng said your cooking is delicious?"

"Mm."

Zhang Han answered with a single sound.

"Hmph! You sound so confident. I suppose you really do have some skill, then?" Ziyan gave a soft laugh. "Also, don't teach Mengmeng any more of that Ants nonsense. Otherwise, when I get back, you'll regret it. All right, give the phone to Mengmeng. I want to talk to her."

"Oh."

Zhang Han was slightly stunned. Before he knew it, he had been standing beside the sofa chatting with Ziyan for five minutes. He handed the phone to Mengmeng, who had been watching cartoons. The moment she heard her mommy's voice, she stopped watching television and began chattering away.

They talked for half an hour. Ziyan had to go back to work, and Mengmeng obediently said goodbye before hanging up.

Over the course of the morning, more than a dozen groups of customers trickled into the restaurant. Its location was decent, and the bright glass windows offered a view of the unique interior. The large crystal chandelier over the dining table, the elegant-looking piano, and the spotless decor all attracted quite a few customers.

But because Zhang Han did not cook, all they could do was sigh and leave.

Zhang Han pondered for a moment. This clearly could not continue, so he placed a notice board beside the entrance of the restaurant.

Business hours: 7:00–8:00 a.m., 12:00–1:00 p.m., 6:00–7:00 p.m. The restaurant may not open every day. Please do not disturb us outside business hours.

Food: Egg Fried Rice—280 yuan per serving; milk—80 yuan per cup; goat's milk occasionally available at 80 yuan per cup.

The first rule, with business hours that looked like an overbearing contract clause, already seemed absurd to people. The prices in the second rule made those who did not know the truth even more indignant.

They only sold Egg Fried Rice, and it was ridiculously expensive too. Who would come to eat at this restaurant?

After Zhang Han finished putting up the notice board, the female employee from the Sichuan Spicy Restaurant next door even came over curiously to take a look. After seeing the information, she returned while suppressing her laughter, inevitably making another round of sarcastic remarks.

At the same time, at Xue Qian's home.

"Good grief! What kind of trash is this? It's driving me crazy!" Li Fan irritably took off his headphones and said angrily, "Damn it, people who have only been studying music for less than half a year already dare to submit songs. I really can't understand it. Fine, submit them if you want, but the scores aren't even complete. Are they playing some game where I have to listen to songs and fill in the sheet music?"

"Heh heh." Xue Qian smiled faintly. "I'll listen to the songs this afternoon. Take a break. I think you'll go crazy if you keep listening."

"I've already gone crazy—from hunger." Li Fan's stomach growled twice. He stood up and said, "I'm going to make myself a bowl of instant noodles."

"Don't. Let's go out to eat. You've worked hard these past few days. The two of us can go out and have something better," Xue Qian suggested.

"Let's not go out. Making noodles won't interfere with listening to songs. The concert is coming up soon, and we don't have much time. It won't be complete unless we can choose two good songs to perform." Li Fan shook his head.

Although those endorsements, commercial jobs, and variety shows could not be recovered, public opinion was no longer completely one-sided, and his fans were also supporting him wholeheartedly. Moreover, these past two days, smiles would occasionally appear on Xue Qian's face. Li Fan had noticed, and he felt somewhat relieved.

"Then I'll order some food. Don't eat instant noodles." As he spoke, Xue Qian put down the guitar in his hands and took out his phone to order some delicacies.

"That works too. I want an eight-inch pizza, two medium-rare steaks, and a few desserts and snacks—just pick whatever you like." Hearing this, Li Fan smiled and sat back down in front of the computer.

"You're certainly not being polite at all!" Xue Qian laughingly scolded.

Li Fan had been working with him for more than four years. He was serious and conscientious, and the two had an excellent relationship. They often joked around in private.

"When does an employee ever need to be polite with his boss?"

Li Fan grinned, put his headphones back on, and looked at the computer screen again. He opened the next email.

The title of this song was Actor.

"Huh? The title seems all right, but the content is probably nonsense again. The materials are pretty thorough—even the instrumental piano track is included... Hm? What the hell? This song is actually priced at 100,000 yuan? Damn! Has he gone crazy?"

Li Fan shouted.

Generally speaking, the main creators of a song received five percent of the royalties, while the singer could receive anywhere from twenty to forty percent. The rest went to the record company. But because of piracy, these shares were actually not very high. Moreover, good songs were sometimes sold with all copyrights transferred, generally for fifty or sixty thousand yuan. Only somewhat famous producers could command prices above 100,000 yuan.

As for qualified producers, Li Fan already knew all of them by heart. He had never heard of anyone called "Hanyang."

For a newcomer to dare to ask for 100,000 yuan seemed rather conceited to Li Fan.

"Oh? A 100,000-yuan song? Play it through the speakers. I want to hear it too."

Even Xue Qian himself grew curious.

"Then let's hear this so-called 100,000-yuan song!" Li Fan sneered, unplugged his headphones, plugged them into the speakers, and began playing the musical accompaniment.

When the melodious and solemn piano accompaniment began, Li Fan was slightly stunned.

"Now this is interesting!"

Li Fan's expression instantly turned extremely serious as he listened carefully to the accompaniment.

Xue Qian, meanwhile, had already closed his eyes to feel the music.

Before they knew it, the accompaniment had ended.

"We finally found one that actually sounds decent. Let's listen to the instrumental piano track too." After saying this, Li Fan began playing the piano track.

After listening to it, Li Fan raised his brows. He glanced at Xue Qian and said solemnly, "I think... we've found a masterpiece!"

"Let's look at the lyrics!"

Xue Qian hurriedly leaned over.

"To put it simply, speak plainly. Omit the escalating emotions. You're not an actor, so don't invent all those scenes..."

After reading the lyrics, Li Fan's expression had already grown excited. He said in a trembling voice,

"Good, good, good! These lyrics are really good! They're absolutely fantastic. I feel—I feel that if you sang this song, it would be absolutely perfect!"

"Actor..." Xue Qian's gaze was slightly vacant as he murmured, "This is the song I wanted!"