“Don’t think your little schemes can fool me.” After Pei Lang and Yan Han left, Yan Xiuyuan, with a dark expression, warned Pei Ziqing. “He’s not someone you can control.”
Yan Xiuyuan wasn’t a good person. His warning to Pei Ziqing was simply because he didn’t want to be dragged down.
His very lifeline was in the hands of his younger uncle, let alone Pei Ziqing—this was basically courting death.
Pei Ziqing already hated Pei Lang. Everyone was protecting him, but why? “Xiuyuan, he’s your younger uncle’s man. Why can’t you let him go even after marriage? I love you too.”
Pei Xiuyuan’s warning was misunderstood as lingering feelings for Pei Lang. While the truth was indeed that he still harbored those feelings, he could only dare to think about them and not act on them.
Pei Ziqing was always crying, as though tears could exchange for everything he wanted. What he didn’t understand was that tears were only useful in front of those who loved him. Now, Yan Xiuyuan only found him annoying.
Once he had loved him so much, now he found him equally tiresome. Yan Xiuyuan couldn’t be bothered to explain, his face cold as he said not a word more and walked out the door.
Pei Ziqing, helpless, wiped away his tears and followed him, getting into Yan Xiuyuan’s car to head home together.
Yan Xiuyuan’s warning didn’t help, it only fueled Pei Ziqing’s growing hatred. After today’s verbal confrontation, the seed of resentment had been watered and it was now growing wildly, soon to be unshakeable.
—
During the waiting period before the new drama started, Pei Lang streamed regularly, released new songs, and gained more and more fans. He earned a significant amount on the platform. In just a month, his popularity soared like a flame caught by the wind, growing larger and larger. This made many young singers uneasy.
He claimed to be in his fifties but never showed his face.
His voice was young and recognizable, and his skills were impressive—wasn’t he clearly snatching opportunities from the younger generation?
One day, after finishing his stream, Pei Lang received a private message inviting him to participate in an original song contest. The competition was hosted by a well-known music app. The top three winners would not only receive trophies but also a substantial cash prize and the chance to compose and perform the theme song for a film or TV series.
It sounded quite promising.
However, for those obscure singers, this competition held even more significance.
Pei Lang didn’t want to venture into the singing industry. He was doing well in the film industry. Singing on the platform wasn’t about pursuing a music career—it was about using his voice, which had the power to heal more people. That was all.
So, Pei Lang politely declined. [Sorry, this competition is great, but it’s more suited for younger people. I won’t be participating.]
[Uncle Lang, everyone is really looking forward to your participation. Your music has always been healing, and we believe your style is much more than just this. The fans across the internet are calling for you to join, please consider it.]
Pei Lang read through every word carefully. It seemed like the other party wasn’t about to give up.
He wasn’t sure when they had started a vote, but the title was “The Original Song Contest is Coming Soon, Who Are You Most Looking Forward To?” Among the options, the ID “Xiao Ye Lang” had the highest votes. When the image was sent, Pei Lang stared at it for a long time but didn’t respond right away.
After all, the movie was still in preparation and he had some free time lately. It wouldn’t hurt to participate.
However, didn’t this go against his original intentions? He didn’t want to stir up the atmosphere of the platform. The votes were mostly from outside fans—how should he deal with this?
Thinking of something, Pei Lang replied. [I can consider it but don’t get your hopes up. Sorry.]
[It’s okay, Uncle Lang, we’re just happy you’re considering it. Thank you, Uncle Lang.]
Turning off his computer, Pei Lang went to the study to find Yan Han. Seeing Yan Han working away, he didn’t want to interrupt but quietly sat by his side. Out of curiosity, Pei Lang glanced at what Yan Han was doing. He had never seen him so busy working late at night.
It was only when he looked that he was startled. “You’re writing a novel?”
Pei Lang was almost in disbelief—what was going on?
“More accurately, I’m writing a script,” Yan Han said calmly on the surface, though he was actually quite nervous. “I want to write a script specifically for you. I’ll be writing it myself.”
“…” It wasn’t that Pei Lang doubted Yan Han’s abilities, but just the thought of his inner world being filled with such unspeakable scenarios made Pei Lang fall silent. “Lanjin Entertainment has worked hard to get to where it is today; don’t let your drama ruin its reputation.”
“Don’t believe in your husband’s literary talent?” Yan Han furrowed his brows, his lips pressed tightly together, clearly not pleased. “The SSS+ scripts of the company all pass through my hands. If I say it’s good enough to shoot, then it can be shot, and each one will be a hit.”
So, even though it was his first time writing a script, he could still tell the difference between good and bad.
“Since you’re so sharp, how come you can’t tell whether Qi Shaoheng’s book to you is good or bad?” Pei Lang wasn’t afraid to expose him mercilessly. Yan Han’s mood darkened. He pulled Pei Lang into his arms, biting his face in return.
“If I could chase you because of the book, then it’s naturally a good book.”
“I’ll carefully study it. After you finish shooting the movie Rot, we’ll film my script. Trust me.”
The bite wasn’t gentle. Pei Lang winced in pain, biting back angrily—he bit Yan Han’s lips. “Alright, alright, I trust you. My husband is the best. There’s nothing that can defeat you.”
The mood had shifted. Yan Han wasn’t in the mood to continue typing. He pinned Pei Lang down and kissed him for a while, only releasing him once he had enough. After catching his breath, Pei Lang remembered why he had come to the study. “Honey, do you know about the Original Song Contest hosted by Yingniao Music?”
“I’ve heard of it. Did they contact you?”
“Yeah.” Pei Lang nodded. He was actually a bit confused as to why the platform would approach someone like him, an older man. “Someone messaged me today, inviting me to participate. Do you know how the competition works?”
“These kinds of competitions aren’t rare. Those who want to participate sign up first, then upload their original songs to the competition page’s playlist. The ranking is based on multiple data points, like play counts, shares, and other metrics. The top three by the deadline win prizes. There are no qualifications to enter. Anyone brave enough can sign up. I’ve never heard of anyone being invited like this.”
That made it even stranger.
“Most platforms have similar rules. The rules may have changed this year, but it’s not certain. If you want to know the specifics, I can have Su Jia look into it,” Yan Han said as he reached for his phone to make the call. However, Pei Lang checked the time and decided not to add to Su Jia’s workload.
“Do you think I should participate?”
Pei Lang’s question made Yan Han happy. It felt good to be trusted and relied upon by his lover. “These small competitions don’t matter much. I understand your concerns. How about you ask your fans tomorrow what they think?”
“That’s true. I’ll just ask tomorrow and see,” Pei Lang thought, feeling a sense of relief. Asking his fans on the platform was simple. If they all wanted him to participate, then it wouldn’t hurt to try it out since he had nothing else to do.
While Pei Lang was still pondering how to word the inquiry, Yan Han had already picked him up and was heading toward the bedroom.
After taking a shower together, they played around until midnight before finally falling asleep.
The next day, Pei Lang was woken up by hunger. By the time he got up, Yan Han had already left for the company. After eating downstairs and chatting with Aunt Lin for a while, Pei Lang went upstairs.
He soon got responses from his fans after asking.
[—Uncle Lang, go for it! We all support you.]
[—I’m looking forward to other styles of songs from Uncle Lang. As long as it’s sung by Uncle Lang, I’ll accept it.]
[—Exactly. Healing music doesn’t have to be slow and gentle; it can also be powerful and strong. What I like is Uncle Lang’s voice—no matter the style, it can heal me.]
[—Of course, we’ll support Uncle Lang’s music. Don’t worry too much. Just like Uncle Lang embraces all of our good and bad emotions, we should unconditionally support his choices.]
[—Uncle Lang must be considering participating in this too, right? Even though that circle has a lot of strange practices, I believe Uncle Lang will definitely stand out as a refreshing presence.]
[—Uncle Lang, just don’t overwork yourself. We all support you and are looking forward to more of your work.]
[—…]
Looking at these heartwarming comments, Pei Lang felt deeply moved. After all, everyone here seemed like little angels—kind-hearted and inclusive. Since they’ve already asked, he decided to participate. Without hesitation, Pei Lang replied to the person from yesterday.
The competition had no restrictions on song style, as long as it was original. However, if any plagiarism was detected, the song would be immediately disqualified. The preparation time for the songs was only half a month, which tested the contestants’ creativity and skills. After one month, data analysis would be conducted to determine rankings. The top three winners received prizes, with higher rankings offering more substantial rewards.
Those who didn’t win would still have their rankings published. While they wouldn’t get a prize, they’d gain exposure, and platforms would offer commissions for data contributions—making it a worthwhile endeavor.
With such high stakes, many contestants joined. The platform closely monitored fair data collection. Any attempts to manipulate data were swiftly eliminated, with severe cases leading to immediate disqualification.
Since deciding to participate, Pei Lang immediately began preparations.
However, he struggled to settle on a specific style.
Eventually, he focused on his experience with youth fantasy, as he had once played the male lead in a fantasy drama. The director had previously asked him to write the theme song, but due to a packed schedule, he had missed the chance. That regret had stayed with him. This competition provided a perfect opportunity to fulfill that dream.
This put a strain on Yan Han. Pei Lang was meticulous, revising lyrics and arrangements over and over again. He often worked late into the night, leaving little time for Yan Han. Yet, Pei Lang shone when dedicated to what he loved. Even though he was exhausted, he was happy. Yan Han, seeing this, was worried about his well-being and had Aunt Lin pay special attention to the food, ensuring Pei Lang got proper rest and nourishment.
When Pei Lang became so immersed in his work that he lost track of time, Yan Han could no longer watch him push himself without rest. He would force Pei Lang to take breaks, while verbally expressing concern that he didn’t want Pei Lang to focus too much on his career. Yet, deep down, he was happy to see Pei Lang working so diligently.
Ten days later, the song was complete. The first person to hear it was Yan Han.
Pei Lang played the instrumental and pulled Yan Han to his side, beginning to sing the song he had worked so hard on for the past ten days. The instrumental was grand and powerful. Even the prelude alone stirred up a sense of excitement. The lyrics were full of heroism. Pei Lang’s voice still sounded as beautiful as ever, though this time the rhythm was different—his tone was stronger and more resilient.
This song perfectly captured the essence of both ethereal beauty and heroic spirit. The lyrics were beautiful and profound, and the brief four-minute performance felt like watching a grand fantasy movie, leaving listeners entranced and unable to move on.
Yan Han was completely captivated, to the point where, after the song ended, he continued to gaze at Pei Lang as though he were looking at a rare and precious treasure, completely forgetting the purpose of listening to the song in the first place.
Pei Lang trusted Yan Han and believed in his discerning ears. He had sung it to him first before releasing it, hoping for feedback so that he could make any necessary revisions. Once everything was perfect, he would record and upload it.
“Husband…?” Pei Lang asked, “What do you think? Is it good?”
Without getting an immediate response, Pei Lang waved his hand in front of Yan Han’s face. Only then did Yan Han snap out of his trance.
“It’s flawless, it sounds amazing,” Yan Han replied, pretending to give his feedback and hiding his own dazed expression.
