novelraw Chapter 23 Song Ze performs "The Actor" live.
Chapter 23 Song Ze performs "The Actor" live.
There was a two-second silence on both ends of the phone call.
Song Ze switched the phone to his left hand and rubbed his temples with his right.
"Is the chain of evidence closed?" he asked, his voice two octaves lower than before.
"The legal department has reviewed it," Zhang Juan sighed.
"This is just a record of attention in the system log."
"Not even a like, let alone any private messages instigating it."
"If it's posted online, Wen Ziliang's team can come up with a million excuses."
"I said it was a slip of the hand, or I said I was just watching the drama unfold."
"In the end, they turned around and accused us of violating their privacy."
It's 11 p.m.
A members-only coffee shop in downtown Shanghai.
Zhang Juan sat in a corner booth, her thumb constantly swiping up her phone screen.
The screen's glow reflected off her glasses, revealing two deep dark circles under her eyes.
Messages kept popping up in the company's legal affairs group chat.
She rejected three of the public relations department's proposals.
None of them are effective or helpful; they don't solve any real problems.
The wind chimes rang.
The glass door was pushed open.
A tall figure strode in.
Song Ze wore a well-tailored black casual suit with a pure white cotton T-shirt underneath.
He was wearing a black baseball cap pulled very low and sunglasses perched on his nose.
Zhang Juan looked up and froze.
Having gotten used to seeing this guy wearing baggy shorts and Crocs for days on end while recording shows, his sudden change into this casual outfit immediately creates a sense of distance.
With just a little grooming, this man could command respect with his appearance alone.
Song Ze walked to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down.
"An iced Americano." He snapped his fingers at the approaching waiter, then took off his sunglasses and tossed them onto the table.
The sunglasses tapped softly against the wooden table.
Zhang Juan gave a wry smile and pushed the tablet computer next to her over.
The screen was lit, and two side-by-side PDF files filled the entire frame.
A glaring red electronic seal was affixed to the bottom right corner.
"The two brands that terminated their contracts are ostensibly backed by Yaoxing Capital."
Zhang Juan lowered her voice and pointed out the equity structure diagram of Yaoxing Capital on the screen to Song Ze.
"Behind Yaoxing Capital are several anonymous partners. The legal team has put in a lot of effort, but they still can't find any direct connection with Wen Ziliang."
"But this is too much of a coincidence."
Zhang Juan tore off a tissue to wipe her sweat.
"They're using the afternoon's bloodshed incident as an excuse."
"They said your public image poses an uncontrollable risk to public security."
"They didn't even go through the evaluation process; they unilaterally issued a termination letter."
Zhang Juan took a sip of ice water and continued speaking.
"Not only that, but several business groups in the industry are saying that you're going to be given the cold shoulder."
"First, I terminated my contract, then I left the variety show; it was one step at a time."
"Now, even for commercial performances that were originally agreed upon in lower-tier cities, the organizers are calling to ask about refunds of the deposits."
Song Ze picked up the iced Americano that had been served and took a sip.
Ice cubes clinked against the glass.
"What about Mr. Wang?" He swallowed his coffee and asked calmly.
Zhang Juan relaxed her shoulders and slumped into the sofa.
"Mr. Wang is a businessman."
When she said this, her tone carried a rare hint of admiration.
"Wen Ziliang did indeed hint to the 'Three Lives Three Worlds' production team to reconsider the choice of singer for the OST."
"But Mr. Wang stood his ground."
"The foundation of 'Liang Liang' is too solid, and its popularity across the entire internet speaks for itself."
"Mr. Wang only cares about money, not people."
Talent is a valuable asset everywhere.
Song Ze reached out and tapped the table twice.
"Wen Ziliang is probing my limits."
He spun the tablet around and pushed it back to Zhang Juan.
"On the surface, they were treating me to meals and giving me resources, putting me in a very difficult position. Behind the scenes, brands terminated their contracts, commercial performances were canceled, and rumors circulated within the industry that I was being sidelined."
"That was a pretty smooth combination of punches."
He paused, then gave a cold laugh.
"These are all just my guesses; I don't know if these things have anything to do with him."
Song Ze's fingers slid along the rim of the glass.
The image of Wen Ziliang's flawless smiling face flashed through his mind.
"If I get really angry right now, I can expose him to the media or hire an online army to flood his square."
"He can easily label me as having 'persecution complex'."
"After all, it was just a slip of the hand that led to the follow."
"Once you fall into his self-justification trap, you'll never be able to turn things around."
Zhang Juan broke out in a cold sweat.
"So what should we do now? Should we have our legal department check Zhang Yilin's financial records?" she asked anxiously, leaning forward.
There's no need to waste time in a quagmire where you're not sure of success.
Song Ze refused.
"The entertainment industry is too complicated, and my time is very precious."
His mind raced with calculations.
One year.
Once he earns enough to cover the contract termination compensation within a year, he'll immediately pack his bags and head to the cryptocurrency market.
The next day, at nine o'clock in the morning.
The villa of the guests of "Heartbeat Signal" in the suburbs of Shanghai.
Song Ze stayed on the second floor, lying on his side.
The heavy blackout curtains were drawn, making the room dimly lit, with only a sliver of morning light cutting through the gaps in the curtains onto the floor.
He dragged the natural wood folk guitar out from the corner.
The phone is mounted on a metal stand with the lens pressed downwards.
The screen only showed the guitar case in his arms, and Song Ze's collarbone and chin.
He didn't show his entire face in the frame.
At this juncture, there's no need to use your face to gain any sympathy; all you need to do is produce a work that is overwhelmingly superior.
This circle idolizes the strong and only recognizes true talent.
He pinched the hard plastic pick between his fingers and casually strummed the strings.
hum-
[System notification: Applicable skills have been automatically matched.]
[Guitar Performance: Proficient Level, In Progress]
[Vocal performance: Professional level, 1240/1000, in effect]
Two lines of semi-transparent text flashed in front of my eyes.
Song Ze adjusted his posture and his brain quickly browsed through his past life's memory bank.
He listened to this song over and over again in his past life.
In those late nights when he was being criticized by the entire internet and couldn't lift his head, in those forgotten corners, this song was his heartfelt expression.
Keep it simple, keep your way of speaking simple.
You're not an actor, so don't devise those scenarios.
The right middle finger plucks the fourth string.
The intro begins.
There are no complicated mixing modifications.
The impeccably clean arpeggios of an acoustic guitar resonated in the dimly lit bedroom.
This is a chord that is full of indifference, spectator mentality, and mockery.
The lens indicator light turned solid red.
Recording begins.
Song Ze lowered his head slightly and moved closer to the microphone.
Keep it simple.
Keep your way of speaking simple.
A clean, clear voice pierced the air.
Please omit the progressive emotions.
"You're not an actor."
"Don't design those plot points."
He pressed down on the sixth fret chord, his fingers scraping across the steel string to produce a harsh, grating sound.
This is a sophisticated form of mockery, almost like pointing fingers and cursing in the street, yet dressed in a suit and tie.
After recording the last line, Song Ze pressed the stop button.
He watched the video again.
In the video, the image of himself, with only his chin and guitar visible, sings with a nonchalant air, yet every word is piercing.
perfect.
He picked up his phone, sent the video to Zhang Juan, and added a message:
"Don't send a lawyer's letter. Send this instead."