Chapter 13

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It was uncertain whether there was still enough time for a last-minute rush. Xia Wansheng was rather resigned; he accepted that the original person had no particular talent, but the time was simply insufficient for him to learn a new skill. If things continued like this, he would inevitably be seen through on the show, exposed before all the viewers. It was like when a teacher checked summer homework and caught the student who hadn’t done it, swearing inwardly that if he wasn’t caught this time, he’d never make that mistake again. Though he was willing to die, he absolutely could not suffer social disgrace. To avoid slipping up in front of Yu Congyan, if the Child of Fortune realized that the golden canary by his side had been replaced, the entire act would instantly fail. Then all the diligent acting would be for nothing — both money and life lost. Xia Wansheng opened social media, intending to find a crash course in one-on-one composition, but was shocked by prices approaching ten thousand yuan. Two thousand yuan per hour—that was practically enough to buy his life. After much thought, Xia Wansheng sighed and opened the bustling Weibo, typing out a post: “Any recommendations for music teachers? Preferably for beginners.” He originally planned to invent a distant relative as a scapegoat, but midway through typing, he realized the original person had no suitable fictional relatives to take the fall—only an unlucky younger brother who always wanted to break into the entertainment industry and nearly dragged them both down during one phone call. Xia Wansheng sighed again, sank into the soft bed, and continued refreshing the comments. Unexpectedly, after much wandering, he was headed down the path of music. Was this the burden of the wealthy? Unable to inherit the family business, he had to study the arts. The timing of the post was unfortunate. Just after Xia Wansheng had established a fan-friendly persona, he should have been busy securing all endorsements and commercial deals, not improvising in the most sensitive professional field. People already thought his songwriting skills were inconsistent, and his style wildly unstable. Many technical bloggers online had dissected his songs, revealing them to be rearranged fragments of foreign artists’ melodies. Netizens joked: “It’s exactly like outsourcing to a rookie operator; this project was clearly handed off to an intern.” Comments flooded in immediately: “Oh, now that the show is about to air, he suddenly wants to learn how to compose properly?” “Where was he earlier? Didn’t he have to take this as a test before debut? While others were studying, was he just sleeping all day?” “No wonder there haven’t been any solid live performances after all these years. Probably afraid of being exposed the moment he opens his mouth.” Xia Wansheng thought, “You guessed right.” If the original hadn’t refused all stages, he wouldn’t have had any talented persona; fans and haters alike would have already scrutinized every frame, checking whether he was lip-syncing or singing live. “Don’t derail, isn’t he looking for a teacher? I remember Old Feng was planning to take a last disciple—why not check him out?” “Come on, how could a national team big shot like Old Feng look at him? He’s only looking for a professionally trained successor, not a beginner fooling around. Doesn’t he understand his own limitations?” Despite this, someone kindly posted Old Feng’s contact info under Xia Wansheng’s Weibo. Xia Wansheng didn’t know much about the music world and was unaware that Old Feng’s status was comparable to a towering pillar in the industry. Since many people recommended him, Xia Wansheng believed it wholeheartedly. It seemed he was a famous teacher who could surely save him from disaster.

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Xia Wansheng happily liked the top comments and replied, “Thanks for the recommendation. Since the consensus is so clear, I’ll seek Old Feng’s guidance right away.” The commenters were stunned: “???” How could he dare humiliate himself like that? “I remember Old Feng is ruthless with his scolding; maybe he deserves to be taught a harsh lesson?” The more the netizens thought about it, the more delighted they became. Whether Xia Wansheng got a scolding from Old Feng or got exposed as having no musical talent at all, it would be entertaining for them. Soon, the whole internet was buzzing with the news— “Did you hear? That clueless little star said he’s going to learn music from Old Feng and even challenged him, saying if Old Feng doesn’t take him as a disciple, he’s blind!” “!!! What right does he have to be so arrogant?!” “It must have been a stunt to build a persona. I want to see if Old Feng really takes him as his last disciple.” The news quickly reached Shao Huan, who was working day and night on his new song. He and his staff laughed out loud: “If someone like Xia Wansheng can be picked by Old Feng as his last disciple, I’ll wash my hair standing on my head during the show!” Others might not know, but Shao Huan was fully aware of Xia Wansheng’s level—he was such a pure newbie he didn’t even know basic chords. It was obvious the many stylistically diverse songs were ghostwritten. Shao Huan vowed to fully expose Xia Wansheng’s mask on the show and disgrace him in front of everyone. As for himself, his manager had already revealed the themes of his compositions, and he was more than halfway prepared. He was confident he’d make a splash. Using a secondary account, he spread many half-true, half-false rumors about Xia Wansheng. When the reposts exploded, he happily turned off his phone. “Let’s see who’s really the loser between us.” That evening, when Old Feng started his usual live broadcast, he was surprised by the overwhelming popularity. Countless viewers flooded in, sending large amounts of gifts and scrolling comments, leaving the old man somewhat bewildered. “Everyone, please calm down. If you have questions, ask them one by one.” Recently, Old Feng had taken his granddaughter’s advice and downloaded a certain short-video app to answer music-related questions online. But he was still unfamiliar with the strange buttons and icons, unsure what had caused this sudden surge. Could this be what his granddaughter meant when she said he’d finally become an internet celebrity? Seeing that Old Feng didn’t immediately react, Feng Yue came over after finishing her performance, observing for a while before asking, “Grandpa, didn’t you say you wanted to take a last disciple?” Judging by the comments, someone wanted to learn music and was encouraged to seek your guidance live. “I think I did say that,” Old Feng recalled. It was probably a few days ago during a livestream. “At the time, I didn’t pay much attention, but lately, many people have been coming to ask me to judge whether he has talent.” Old Feng was starting to understand. These people weren’t here to discuss musical mysteries or chase some so-called dream—they were just after fame! The old man became increasingly annoyed: “Young people these days are all restless and impatient, incapable of great things!” Back in his day, learning a skill meant following the master and enduring years of chopping wood and carrying water before the master would seriously pass on his lifelong knowledge after confirming the disciple’s character. Feng Yue pointed to the still-streaming names on the screen: “They say someone wants to apprentice under you, and he’s a celebrity.” “So what if he’s a celebrity? Few people in this line actually focus on learning. They all quit halfway to rush off to act and make money. I don’t like those restless types!” Old Feng swept his sleeve indignantly.

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He absolutely would not compromise with the corrupt forces in the entertainment industry. This only made the spectators all the more eager to watch the show, wishing they could jump into the time when Xia Wansheng connected live, to see how the drama would unfold. Just then, a music academy student joined the live broadcast, excitedly saying he was Old Feng’s schoolmate and a longtime fan who had embarked on a musical path because of him. Then he performed some basic skills on the spot, earning continuous applause. Old Feng was delighted, unconsciously stroking his beard and expressing his affection and praise for this formally trained student in every gesture. “Look, this is a proper good student—talented and with the right attitude. Who wouldn’t like that?” The viewers instantly switched sides. Those who had doubted Xia Wansheng grew even more dissatisfied. “Seriously, with that level, who said he had the qualifications to apprentice? Don’t even try to fake being connected to Old Feng. I sing better in the shower; why not take me as your teacher?” “I want to apply too! I even won second place in the campus singer contest!” The live connection ended, and Old Feng was very satisfied, sharing with his granddaughter: “This young man has some skill. I think I can give him a few pointers. If he’s interested, he can come ask me.” The old man thought the boy was talented but not quite up to his disciple standards. After a lifetime of wandering, he had no hope of taking a last disciple—fate was truly cruel. “Grandpa, that little star asked if he could connect live with you,” Feng Yue cautiously asked. She had seen on Weibo that Xia Wansheng had recently set aside five million yuan for fan giveaways, which had made her somewhat reconsider him. Maybe he had some genuine ability after all. “What skills could someone like that have? I’ve heard his previous shallow pop songs were terrible and proven to be ghostwritten!” Old Feng was naturally reluctant and waved it off. He didn’t want to get entangled with celebrities again. If he failed to take a last disciple, he didn’t want his reputation ruined. That would destroy his lifelong honor. “Grandpa, he has a pretty good reputation. He offended some investors by refusing to be exploited and got blacklisted. Maybe he’s desperate now and wants to take a gamble. Let’s just listen for fun, okay?” Feng Yue explained. After all, her grandfather had been searching tirelessly for a last disciple—getting up at four or five in the morning to scout suitable candidates in parks, visiting schools with former students, determined to find a worthy heir before retirement. The family had tried to dissuade him, but the old man took the matter seriously. This was a chance presented to him—why not try? If the old man got fed up and gave up on taking a last disciple, that would be good news too. “Fine, I want to see what this person’s intentions really are.” Old Feng couldn’t bear to refuse his granddaughter. He resolved to be ruthless and make sure the person knew his place. Hopefully, this person would stop overestimating himself and go back to idling in his entertainment career. Feng Yue connected Xia Wansheng’s live line and reminded him: “My grandpa has a bad temper and speaks bluntly. You’d better be mentally prepared.”