novelraw Chapter 19: My Ex-Girlfriend is a Medical Student?
Chapter 19: My Ex-Girlfriend is a Medical Student?
Mr. Wang strode forward.
Before leaving, he swung his arm with great satisfaction and patted Song Ze heavily on the shoulder.
"Slap! Slap!"
"Xiao Song! Keep up the good work!"
After saying that, he opened the recording studio door with two burly assistants and stepped into the elevator.
Zhang Juan's face turned bright red, and she stomped her high heels on the floor, making a loud cracking sound.
She spun around twice, rubbing her hands together vigorously, so excited she almost jumped up.
Wen Ziliang froze for a full three seconds.
He slowly turned his neck to look at Song Ze, his cheeks agape.
Congratulations, Xiao Song.
"I didn't realize you had such a trump card up your sleeve."
Then he turned around and walked very quickly.
Song Ze stood there, stunned.
My mind was filled with only one thought: What happened to the promise of capital crushing newcomers? What happened to the promise of exploitation and suppression?
The sponsor doesn't play by the rules at all.
They gave way too much.
200 million isn't enough to buy out your freedom? Then add a share of the profits.
All the reasons he had prepared for running away collapsed instantly.
An hour later, at the Home Inn Express Hotel in Shanghai, a standard room.
Song Ze lay sprawled on the snow-white sheets, spread-eagled.
The phone screen was lit up, displaying an electronic scan of the Starry Entertainment agency contract.
The thumb quickly swipes up the screen and stops at the third item on page eight: If Party B unilaterally terminates the contract, it shall pay Party A a penalty of RMB 8000 million.
The central air conditioning was blowing out cold air.
He stared at the ceiling and remained silent for a full five minutes.
8000 million.
A fortune that an ordinary person couldn't accumulate even in three lifetimes working on an assembly line.
Even if all the revenue from the streaming of "Liang Liang" were used to fill the gap and cover the losses, he would still owe the company tens of millions.
If he tries to force himself out, those ruthless, suit-wearing thugs in the company's legal department could sue him until he's bankrupt.
They were directly converted into defaulters.
High-speed rail is off-limits, airplanes are off-limits, and even buying a bottle of Coke requires flipping coins.
Why bother leaving the scene?
Song Ze suddenly sprang up and sat cross-legged.
Row.
If fate insists on putting you on this pirate ship, then find a different way to live.
What's the entertainment industry compared to this? He holds a proficiency extraction system in his hand and has a prophetic script for the next ten years in his mind.
Set a small goal: one year.
Work as a high-level employee in the entertainment industry for a year, earn 8000 million yuan in breach of contract fees, and incidentally save up your first pot of gold.
Then he turned around and plunged into the cryptocurrency market for sixteen years, blindly buying Bitcoin, frantically buying up new energy stocks, and heavily investing in artificial intelligence.
Buy a large, single-level apartment with a river view on the Bund with cash, and collect rent while lying down.
The entertainment industry makes quick money, while the investment industry prints money while lying down.
Operating on two fronts, becoming a behind-the-scenes capital tycoon. This is a worthwhile deal.
My phone suddenly vibrated violently.
Zhang Juan sent me a screenshot.
Ali Pictures' finance department acted swiftly, depositing the full 300 million RMB after-tax cash into Xingyao Entertainment's corporate account without missing a single penny.
Then another message appeared: The company's account transfer is complete. You receive 200 million, Lin Shishi gets 50, and the company takes 50. Please check your bank messages.
Song Ze stared at the long string of zeros on the screen.
Given his current situation of being universally hated online and completely forgotten, it would be merciful for the higher-ups to simply throw away two or three hundred thousand dollars under the pretext of "preliminary publicity costs" or "crisis management losses."
Getting the full 200 million yuan, split in half, was definitely something Zhang Juan had to whack on the table in the office and forcefully pry out of the boss's mouth.
This woman is truly fierce.
They're truly protective of their own.
You take someone's money and do their bidding.
He dialed Zhang Juan's voicemail number directly.
The phone rang for only half a ring before it was answered. The clattering of keyboard keys filled the air first.
"what?"
"Sister Juan," Song Zeqing cleared his throat, "thanks. Consider this money a favor I owe you."
"Stop with the nonsense," Zhang Juan sneered. "Take your money and stop causing trouble. Get to the film set first thing tomorrow morning to record the show. If you dare to make a fool of yourself on camera, I'll tear you apart with my own hands."
Beep—The call was disconnected.
Song Ze stuffed his phone under his pillow and covered his head with the blanket.
go to bed.
I have to work tomorrow.
The next morning at 8:00 AM.
The villa where "Heartbeat Signal" was filmed in the suburbs of Shanghai.
Morning light streamed through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, filling the entire living room, and the live stream started on time.
The eight guests have already taken their seats on the giant circular sofa.
The assistant director stood behind the camera, holding a large tin megaphone.
Good morning, teachers! Today is our special day – Career Experience Day.
"Morning task segment: 'My Twenty-Four Hours'."
"The entire event will be broadcast live on the big screen without any editing, featuring pre-recorded VCRs of each teacher's daily work. This will allow the audience to see, without the romantic filter, how each person shines on their own track."
"In the afternoon, we will have the long-awaited random draw for a two-person career experience."
The number of viewers in the live stream soared to over two million, with the chat buzzing with excitement.
"Finally, we can see what my brother is like in private!"
"Looking forward to Shishi's creative daily life!"
"What's that scumbag Song Ze broadcasting? Is he going to broadcast how he flirts with girls?"
The assistant director waved his arm: "First, please watch the video of male guest Zhang Hao."
The large screen lights up. It's six in the morning. Zhang Hao, wearing a tight-fitting sports vest and with his muscles coated in varnish, is pedaling furiously on a stationary bike in the gym, sweat dripping down his chin. The camera zooms in on his biceps.
The scene shifts to nine in the morning, where he stands in the center of the vocal classroom, straining against the floor microphone to hit the high notes, veins bulging on his neck.
At 3 p.m., he and a group of dancers in black were sweating profusely in the rehearsal room, finishing with a sharp backflip.
When the video ended, the live chat exploded.
"Hao-ge is too curvy!"
"Someone more talented than you and works even harder than you, what right do I have to give up?"
"The king of entertainment industry hype, you deserve to be famous!"
Zhang Hao stood ramrod straight, humbly waving to the camera. Several female guests frequently glanced at him.
The assistant director continued, "Next up, Ms. Lin Shishi."
The screen lights up again.
Lin Shishi sat in her independent studio, which was covered with high-end acoustic materials, and appeared on camera without makeup.
Long, slender fingers danced rapidly across the MIDI keyboard, striking out complex chords.
Occasionally, he would stop, rest his chin on his hand, and watch the bustling traffic outside the window, then quickly jot down a few lines of lyrics on an A4 sheet of paper.
The visuals are beautiful, sophisticated, and exude a high level of professionalism.
Shen Xiaoyuan's video clip jumps directly to 2 a.m.
The girl sat in front of the computer with her hair disheveled, bathed in a soft blue light, frantically rubbing her hair with both hands until it resembled a bird's nest.
The keyboard was being pounded away, and three empty Red Bull cans were piled high on the table.
Every video clip is an attempt to create a persona.
You either have to be glamorous and exceptionally gifted, or you have to stay up all night and fight until you lose hair.
The living room was filled with an intense, almost palpable, atmosphere of intense competition.
Song Ze sat on the edge of the sofa, let out a huge yawn, and tears welled up in his eyes.
The assistant director picked up the walkie-talkie: "Next, Song Ze."
Everyone turned their heads and looked at the big screen.
The haters' fingers were already hovering over the keyboard, ready to unleash their attacks.
The scene cuts in.
There are no high-end studios, no professional gyms, and no script desks where people stay up late writing scripts.
Song Ze was wearing a huge yellow pajama set with a SpongeBob SquarePants pattern and blue plastic Crocs, and was curled up on the sofa in an extremely contorted position.
A bottle of Coke is next to me.
He held a chubby orange tabby cat in his arms, rubbing its chin and belly vigorously with his right hand, making the cat purr.
With a large bag of original flavor potato chips in his left hand, he mechanically reached out, picked up a chip, and stuffed it into his mouth.
Click, click, click.
The entire video has no background music; all you hear is the sound of him chewing potato chips.
For a full two minutes, he lay there, completely motionless.
In the last second of the video, he grabbed a can of cola, tilted his head back, and gulped down three mouthfuls before letting out an extremely long burp.
"belch--"
The screen went black.
The live stream chat was instantly cleared, and there was a pause for a full three seconds.
Immediately afterwards, a dense mass of text surged forth like a tsunami.
"What kind of crap is this?"
"I actually stared at a guy eating potato chips for two minutes?!"
"Useless! Is your job just to be a good-for-nothing?"
"A cancer in the entertainment industry, get out of there immediately!"
However, amidst the barrage of insults, a large number of lurking fans and working-class people who were still working overtime on Saturday suddenly rioted.
"Holy crap, isn't this a perfect description of my weekend?"
"Who removed my home security camera?"
"After working like a dog and being exhausted, all I want to do on weekends is lie down and relax like a limp rag!"
"This is so real! Seeing him munching on potato chips makes me want to order takeout already."
The data in the Weibo backend started fluctuating wildly.
The hashtags #SongZeyanMyWeekend# and #FirstPersonToSleepWithPaidLeave# quickly rose into the top 20 trending topics within minutes.
On the sofa, Zhang Hao's straight back stiffened.
Shen Xiaoyuan's mouth was open.
Lin Shishi turned her head and rubbed her temples.
Everyone else is putting in a lot of effort to build a persona, and you're openly slacking off?
Just as the entire internet was arguing fiercely about "authenticity" versus "playing it off," and the number of online viewers exceeded three million, the top of the live stream's public screen...
A striking red bullet comment slowly drifted across the center of the screen.
"You're all watching that scumbag picking his toes, and I'm the only one still remembering his old gossip?"
Immediately afterwards, another red, bolded comment came to a steady stop.
"Song Ze's ex-girlfriend was a medical student, her surname was Xia, and her given name was something like Xia again?"