Huayu: Please leave me alone, I really want to retire from the entertainment industry!

Chapter 54 Hunan TV Offers a Sky-High Price of 3

"—We rejected them."

Hong Tao paused for a moment, then his smile deepened.

Dilraba forgot to chew the roasted potato in her mouth; her cheeks were bulging, and her eyes were wide open.

Song Ze paused for a moment, holding his beer glass, and remained silent.

"The review panel's opinions were more unanimous than ever before," Hong Tao said. "Even Ding Feng, who had previously had opinions about you, did not vote against it."

Ding Feng?

The one who made sarcastic remarks before the audition, saying, "I hope your abilities match your ambitions"?

Song Ze didn't reply, and waited.

"The key is Lin Yilian's evaluation." Hong Tao lowered his voice, emphasizing each word, "Her exact words were—'Lin Youjia's "Let the World End" is a masterpiece, but Song Ze's "Left Finger Pointing to the Moon" is a work of art. Before a work of art, a masterpiece must give way.'"

Song Ze put down his cup.

When Lin Yilian left that day, she only said half a sentence—"There's her shadow in it, but your handling is more—"

The answer is now known to what comes after the word "更".

Dilraba finally remembered to chew the potato. After swallowing it, she leaned forward and almost put her face right up to the phone.

"Wait a minute, Brother Hong, I haven't finished yet." Hong Tao spoke a beat faster, "Song Ze, I represent not only the production team, but also a newly established cultural and entertainment fund."

Here it is. The main course.

"We want to sign an exclusive cooperation agreement with you. Priority participation rights for three seasons of 'Singer,' a guaranteed minimum of 30 million, plus a share of the profits."

Dilraba's chopsticks clattered into the plate.

Thirty million. Guaranteed minimum.

Song Ze leaned back in his chair and didn't move.

Hongtao continued, "Zhejiang TV is making big moves, with several music variety shows in preparation. Hunan TV needs a core member who can handle both viewership and talent. Let me be frank with you—we don't want you to just be a dark horse for one season."

He paused for a moment.

"We want to make you a legend on this stage. This 30 million is a deposit."

Dilraba's hands were suspended in mid-air, and she froze halfway through clapping.

Song Ze stared at the plate of roasted lamb chops on the table, now just bones, his mind racing.

Thirty million. Three-term commitment. Exclusive.

"Brother Hong, the amount is too large," Song Ze said calmly. "I need time to consider it, and I also need to discuss it with my agent."

"I understand, no rush. We'll send someone to Shanghai next week to finalize the contract details." Hong Tao smiled. "But some opportunities don't have a long window of opportunity. You know what I mean."

"Understood. Thank you, Brother Hong."

The call ended. There was a three-second silence in the private room.

Dilraba was the first to explode.

"Thirty million! Song Ze, you're rich!"

She sprang up from her chair, slammed her hands on the table, and the plate bounced.

"Hurry up and say yes! This is the kind of treatment Hunan TV gives you! So many people are desperate to get on 'Singer,' and they'll just book you for three seasons!"

Song Ze glanced at her, smiled, and picked up the last piece of roasted lamb chop and put it into her bowl.

"Even food can't shut you up."

Dilraba looked down at the lamb chops, then looked up at him.

"Aren't you excited?"

"Exciting." Song Ze poured himself a glass of water. "But 30 million tied up for three terms means I can't move for at least three years."

Dilraba blinked. "What are you moving?"

Song Ze did not answer.

He himself hadn't figured out how to answer.

Saving enough money to retire from the entertainment industry—this was his core plan since his rebirth. The 80 million yuan penalty for breach of contract was meticulously planned in his mind. 30 million yuan would allow him to take a significant leap forward.

But the phrase "priority participation rights" effectively keeps him tied to the industry for at least three years.

Three years. Why leave the scene?

Dilraba rarely puts on a playful smile.

"Song Ze, are you planning something I don't know about?"

"No." Song Ze stood up. "Let's go, you have a gig tomorrow."

Dilraba pouted, stuffed the lamb chop into her mouth, and mumbled, "You're not even excited if 30 million is thrown in your face? You're a weirdo."

That night, the hashtags #LinYoujiaElimination# and #I Am a SingerDarkHorseSongZe# trended on social media.

HIM International Music's PR team got involved. Marketing accounts started stirring up trouble—claiming "audience scandals," "capital manipulation," and "Lin Youjia being maliciously suppressed." Within half an hour, music critics and bloggers from the audition venue began posting reports, all with remarkably consistent content: Song Ze's performance was overwhelmingly superior.

Ding Feng posted a message on his WeChat Moments with eight characters: "I take back what I said earlier, this guy has something to offer." A screenshot of this post was shared on Weibo and immediately went viral, reaching third place on the trending topics list. A sharp-tongued music critic contradicting himself is more effective than any PR press release.

Song Ze swiped for two minutes and then locked the screen.

It was already 10 p.m. when I got back to Xingyao Entertainment. Zhang Juan was still in her office, with three contracts and a calculator spread out on her desk.

Song Ze repeated Hongtao's offer.

Zhang Juan was drinking water. The water sprayed out.

"Thirty million?!" She put down her cup, grabbed a tissue to wipe the table, her hands trembling. "A guaranteed thirty million? Three years' worth of priority participation rights?"

"right."

Zhang Juan tossed aside the tissue and furiously pressed buttons on her calculator. "Add streaming revenue sharing, appearance fees, subsequent commercial premiums..."

Song Ze sat on the sofa without replying.

Zhang Juan stood up and walked up to him.

"What are you hesitating for? How many people in the entire Chinese entertainment industry can get a contract like this?"

"I know."

"Then what are you still considering?"

"Three terms of commitment, minimum three years."

Zhang Juan was taken aback. "What's wrong with three years? How old are you? You won't even be thirty in three years—"

She stopped and stared at Song Ze for five seconds.

"You wouldn't...?"

Song Ze did not answer.

Zhang Juan sat back down in her chair, forcing herself to calm down. "Song Ze, I've been a manager for eight years, and I've seen many people choose to back down when they should have been pushing forward, and not one of them has ever been without regret."

"I am not backing down."

"Then what are you?"

Song Ze leaned back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. "I haven't figured it out yet."

Zhang Juan sighed and pushed the calculator aside. "Okay, take your time thinking about it. But Hongtao said the window of opportunity won't last long."

"I know."

As I left Zhang Juan's office, half the corridor lights were off. On my phone lay an unread WeChat message: Lin Shishi.

"Congratulations. The stage is huge, so please enjoy the view for me."

Sent five minutes ago. No exclamation marks, no emojis, and ends with a period.

Song Ze stared at the line of text. He typed a few words, then deleted them. He typed again, then deleted again. Finally, he sent four words: "I'll take pictures of the scenery for you."

Read. No reply.

He locked the screen and continued walking. The entire floor was empty except for the sound of his footsteps.

My phone vibrated again. Yang Mi.

A picture. A table in the Zhuxi Tea House, two empty cups, dim lighting. Below it is a caption: "Someone wants to buy out your future for 30 million. Jiaxing can give you the freedom to choose your future. My offer is valid forever."

Song Ze stopped in the middle of the corridor.

This woman's information network is incredibly efficient. Only a few hours after Hongtao hung up the phone, she already had the specific figures.

He put his phone back in his pocket, pushed open the door to his apartment, and lay down without even turning on the lights.

Thirty million. Hunan TV wanted a "legend" to be tied to. Yang Mi's side offered "freedom." Both paths pointed in the same direction—staying in this industry.

But his plan was to save enough money and then leave.

Song Ze turned over and opened the system panel.

[Singing: Expert level, 3512/10000]

The numbers are just sitting there quietly. Still a long way from master level.

He checked his mobile banking balance again. It was even further from 80 million.

In the months since his rebirth, he has witnessed Sa Dingding's Adam's apple vibrating as he closed his eyes to audition in the studio, seen Liu Yifei play a melody on the piano that was very similar to the one in his mind, and seen Lin Yilian expose the ceiling of his "skills" with just half a sentence.

He sang G6. Four seconds. A steady four seconds. The quietest four seconds in the entire venue.

Does he want to make enough money and leave, or does he want to know how far he can go after those four seconds?