Mr. Qin the Composer

Zola still left.

Before leaving, it still said to Rabi, "If you change your mind, contact me again."

Rabi was left sitting alone on the rooftop.

After being battered by the cold wind for a while, it pulled a phone from who knew where, tapped it a few times, and dialed a number.

It rang for a while before the other side answered.

Rabi held the phone to its ear and said, "Hey, Old Qin, I've got a Magical Girl here. Come help me compose a song. That's right, I'm making a comeback. Yeah, Little Chen agreed to write the lyrics. You two just need to work together. I'll come see you tomorrow."

After exchanging pleasantries for a while, Rabi hung up.

Then it immediately dialed another number.

"Hey, Little Chen, got time to help me write lyrics for a song? That's right, Old Qin is composing it..."

After a round of friendly discussion (sweet-talking), the song was provisionally settled.

"Next is the venue."

Rabi murmured softly, ripples glimmering in its crimson eyes.

South City

After wandering through two streets, Zhou Mo only bought a pile of late-night snacks before heading back.

Covering such a huge area, having one person search for a Monster that had hidden itself was indeed a little unrealistic.

After returning home, she transformed into Molis and opened her livestream.

Then, in the middle of the night, she put on an eating stream and tortured the barrage of comments badly.

The next day

Her alarm did not ring today, because the wonderful weekend had arrived once more.

After comfortably catching up on sleep, Zhou Mo slowly crawled out of bed close to noon.

She stood before the mirror, brushing her teeth while considering how she should relax this weekend.

"Should I go unlock the map? No, that sounds dangerous."

"I should just watch street performances by magical entertainers. You really never get tired of watching Magical Girls breathe fire."

Just as she was imagining the wonderful itinerary ahead, Rabi appeared.

Rabi's appearance meant something was up, and something being up meant her entertainment life was about to end before it had even begun.

"...Can I refuse?"

"I haven't said anything yet."

Rabi tilted its head at her from the side.

Zhou Mo fell silent. After rinsing her mouth and wiping away the remaining foam at the corner of her lips, she turned to look at Rabi.

"Do you need to say anything? The yellow exclamation mark on your head is practically glowing!"

She pointed at Rabi and complained loudly.

Sure enough, a huge yellow exclamation-mark headband sat atop its head, and it even glowed.

"Where did you get that thing?"

"Oh? You want one too? I'll send you the product link."

"That's not the point."

Zhou Mo complained weakly, rubbing her hungry stomach as she prepared to go out and get something to eat.

"Go on, what is it?"

She asked while putting on her shoes.

Rabi deftly jumped onto her shoulder, then said:

"This afternoon, I'll take you to meet a few people."

"Huh?"

Hearing Rabi's words, Zhou Mo froze for a moment and gave it a puzzled look.

"I've already found people for the original song. Since it's your song, they need to meet you and get an idea of things like its genre and style."

That was how it explained it.

Zhou Mo understood that much.

Still, she had not expected it to move so quickly. Just yesterday, it had been going, "Oh no, oh no, oh no."

She thought about it, then nodded.

"When?"

"Three o'clock."

"Fine."

That afternoon, after watching some street performers for a while, Zhou Mo followed the navigation Rabi gave her. She took Metro Line 114 and arrived in another district after more than half an hour.

Edge District, District 12

Zhou Mo, in Molis's casual outfit, stood before a short office building and somewhat suspected that she had gone to the wrong location.

The building before her was steeped in Syria war-damage chic. Strange graffiti covered the entire wall in front of it, and a gust of wind swept up some unknown flyer from the ground, making the place look run-down yet somehow artistic.

"This is it?"

Zhou Mo turned her head and pointed at the building in front of her.

"That's right."

Rabi nodded with absolute certainty.

Without asking again, she walked closer and examined it.

An aluminum sign hung on the second floor, reading:

[Mr. Qin's Studio]

The sign was tilted thirty degrees, and it did not look intentional.

Zhou Mo stood before the building and thought for a while before deciding to go inside first.

Though the outside was a little over-the-top, maybe the inside would bring her a surprise. Like some reclusive master, weren't artistic types all the more impressive the stranger they were?

Zhou Mo's stereotypes about musicians were in full effect. The more she thought about it, the more reasonable it seemed.

So, carrying a trace of anticipation, she walked into the building...

"..."

Zhou Mo stood beside an open doorway and saw someone inside.

The man sat cross-legged on the floor. A phone was propped up on the low table in front of him, while he held a cup of Kang Shuaibo Beef Noodles and slurped noodles as he watched a short drama.

He looked to be around thirty, with instant-noodle curls like the noodles in his hand, an unshaven face, and deep dark circles beneath his eyes.

Zhou Mo took one look at him and quickly came to a conclusion.

"He's completely a washed-up middle-aged uncle."

"Hmm?"

Hearing a girl's voice, the instant-noodle-haired uncle inside raised his head and met the silver-haired girl's gaze outside the door.

"Who are you looking for?"

The uncle swallowed his noodles and asked in a hoarse yet slightly magnetic voice.

Zhou Mo studied him briefly. Though he looked disheveled, appearances could be deceiving, and he did fit her image of an artsy middle-aged man.

So she immediately asked, "Excuse me, are you Mr. Qin?"

"Oh, you're looking for Young Qin."

Hearing the girl's question, the uncle showed a look of understanding and raised a hand to point toward the right outside the door.

"I'm not him. I'm the landlord. The Mr. Qin you're looking for is inside."

"O-oh, you're the landlord... Sorry to bother you."

Zhou Mo froze, quickly nodded her thanks, and hurried away.

As she walked down the dim corridor, Zhou Mo quietly said to Rabi on her shoulder:

"Why didn't you remind me?"

Rabi merely spread its hands. "You didn't ask."

"..."

After passing through a long hallway, Zhou Mo finally stopped at the far end.

Looking up, she saw a sign hanging on the door reading [Mr. Qin's Studio].

After confirming she had not gone to the wrong door, she raised her hand and knocked.

Before long, the door opened. The person inside saw a silver-haired girl outside, with a white cat perched on her shoulder.

The person's face immediately lit up, and he politely greeted Zhou Mo:

"Oh! You must be Miss Molis, right? Welcome, welcome."

"Ah, hello, Mr. Qin."

Zhou Mo hurriedly bent slightly at the waist in reply.

Then she blinked and took a careful look at the person before her.

The man wore narrow-framed glasses, had short tousled hair, and wore a neat white shirt. He looked refined and scholarly.

"Come on, don't just stand there. Please, come in."

The man who had introduced himself as Mr. Qin stepped aside to let Zhou Mo enter the room.

As Zhou Mo entered, the man greeted Rabi on her shoulder while she passed him.

"Yo, Rabi."

"Hi, Old Qin."

Rabi raised a hand and gave an equally simple reply.