23: If you feel sad, just come home. We can support you.

Next door, Chen Fang sat at the table, opened a box, and while eating a Swiss roll, he opened his phone, which displayed over a dozen unread messages.

Opening the chat app, the top three messages were from Uncle Dandelion.

Uncle Dandelion was the balding uncle he thought was his landlord, but was actually Yue Qingzhu's assistant, named Pu Maosheng.

After she agreed to help, he was entrusted to Uncle Dandelion the very next day.

After he explained the situation to Pu Maosheng, he said he would find someone to investigate and get back to him as soon as possible.

Ten days passed in a flash, and he finally contacted him.

Chen Fang tapped on the message, and Pu Maosheng messaged:

"Hello, Mr. Chen, we have already gathered some evidence and would like to communicate with you. When are you available? I am free tonight from 11 PM to 1 AM tomorrow morning, and tomorrow from 8 AM to 11 AM. Or any other time, you decide. I have something to do temporarily, so send me a time, and I will contact you then."

Evidence!

Seeing these two words, Chen Fang's blood boiled.

He didn't watch today's live broadcast, but he could guess without thinking that someone was definitely scolding him.

If he didn't have evidence, he would really be suffocated.

"Then let's do 11 PM tonight. Thank you for your trouble."

Chen Fang glanced at his watch; it was 10 PM, so he still had 45 minutes.

He exited the chat box and opened the next message, his heart immediately sinking—it was from his parents. He was still not quite used to the fact that he had parents.

But because their names were the same as in his memories, he didn't reject it, it was just... his first time being a son in a clear-headed state, and he was a little nervous.

Opening the chat box, he saw his parents' messages:

"[Dad]: Xiaofang, are you okay? Are you missing Grandma? After you finish recording, Dad will take you back to your hometown to see her?"

"[Mom]: Mom still says the same thing, it doesn't matter what others say, at worst, we'll support you, it's also very happy to stay at home."

"[Dad]: Yes, if you like music, just write at home. Let's publish anonymously and be a hidden master!"

Chen Fang raised his hand to cover his forehead, a wave of bitterness in his heart.

Are Mom and Dad this good? Is having Mom and Dad such a happy thing? If in his last life, they hadn't been in a car accident...

Chen Fang rubbed his temples, quickly stopping his thoughts.

After a few seconds, he took a deep breath and typed: "I'm fine, I'm doing great. I wrote that song because I missed Grandma a while ago. I'm doing very well now. I came out to participate in the show and found that everyone is very kind. After the recording, I'll go home, don't worry."

Chen Fang took a picture of the Swiss roll he had taken two bites of and sent it to the group, "Given by other guests. Don't worry."

"[Dad]: That's good, rest early, call us if anything comes up."

Chen Fang replied with an 'mm', placed his phone on the table, waited another two minutes, took a deep breath, and stood up to get ready to wash up.

Just as he stood up, his phone chimed with a notification.

He picked it up and saw it was a message from the Assistant Director: "Teacher Chen, have you rested yet?"

"Not yet, is there something you need?"

The Assistant Director sent a string of formal flattery, finally landing on the advertising revenue share and the usage rights for "one meat and one vegetable."

Chen Fang's eyes lit up.

Ah, the scent of money!

Money is a good medicine, effective for opening one's eyes. Rest? No rest!

...

While he was working overtime to make money, "one meat and one vegetable" was spreading rapidly online.

The night of the May Day holiday was a time for workers to rest, and also a numb overtime night for those in the entertainment industry. For the oxen and horses in the entertainment industry, it was an even busier time.

He Xuantai was sitting in her study, on an online meeting.

She closed her eyes and gently rubbed her temples.

She didn't know who hadn't muted their microphone, and there was a constant rustling noise.

But this did not affect the director's high-pitched speech. Perhaps he was on a roll scolding people, and he didn't care who hadn't muted their microphone, just kept talking. His outwardly gentle voice was laced with strong dissatisfaction—

"The third thing is the candidate for 'The Voice of Nature.' Everyone is well aware that this music variety show has produced over ten excellent singers in the past three years. Even among all variety shows, its popularity can rank among the top five. There are still two months until it airs. We still haven't found a suitable candidate. China is so big, can't we find a suitable person? Have everyone present seriously looked?"

This matter was tied to his performance, touching his interests, and the more he spoke, the angrier he got, with clear anger in his voice towards the end.

He Xuantai leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, eyes slightly narrowed as she looked at the screen.

"The Voice of Nature" was a music variety show for newcomers. The director required them to find folk masters who could make it into the top ten in the variety show, and their appearance couldn't be too bad. Such people were hard to come by.

How easy was it to make it into the top ten? Not to mention audience appeal, dance and instruments, and stage presence, just in terms of singing, one had to be able to precisely control pitch, sense rhythm, interpret lyrics, and have a unique vocal timbre that made the music deeply moving.

And such a person had to be unsigned.

Where to find them? Did they think it was like ordering takeout? Say you want it now, and it just pops out?

He Xuantai snorted coldly and crossed her legs.

Just then, a marketing account's cutesy voice suddenly came from the speaker—"Wow, this is too good! My boyfriend and I both cried listening to it."

The next moment, the speaker erupted with the director's barely suppressed angry question: "Who! Who's playing on their phone with the mic on? Can you be serious about work?"

A clattering sound came from the speaker; clearly, the colleague who was slacking off panicked, and the more flustered they were, the more they couldn't handle small things.

The marketing account was still chattering praises.

"Qin Cancan! Turn it off quickly!" The director suppressed his anger.

At the same time, after the marketing account's cutesy voice in the speaker finished saying "Let's listen together," a low, sorrowful male voice suddenly came through—

"The moon is bright, the wind is light, have you ever..." Halfway through the song, the singing suddenly stopped.

He Xuantai frowned slightly and uncrossed her legs.

She hadn't heard this song before. Was it some niche song?

Before she could think further, Qin Cancan's nervous voice came from the speaker, "Sorry, Director, my child brought my phone to me, I'm sorry."

The director's voice was calm: "Wait a moment, keep playing it."

"Ah? Okay."

The clear, gentle male voice continued from the speaker.

He Xuantai nodded slightly.

The pitch and rhythm were excellent, and most importantly, without accompaniment, the emotional expression was still very rich, striking the softest part of the heart.

If he could perform at this level at the "The Voice of Nature" live show, the top ten, oh no, the top five should be within his grasp! And in this music variety show, the newcomers in the top five in previous years, after two or three years, mostly became first-tier singers, and even the worst were quasi-first-tier.

Who was this? Which first-tier singer had a live clear-out today?

Just as she thought this, she heard the director hum, "This person is very good!"

"No, Director, this person..."

Before Qin Cancan could finish, the director interrupted him, his tone slightly impatient: "What time is it? Don't waste time. Just answer me three questions: Does this person have a company? What does he look like? Did he write the lyrics and music himself?"

Qin Cancan was silent for a moment, "No company, twenty-two years old, handsome, wrote his own lyrics and music."

The director's voice was decisive: "Contact him! Find this person! Didn't you say people were hard to find? Isn't there one right here? How easy to find. Can you put some effort into your work normally? If everyone put in some effort, would we still be working overtime and having meetings late on a May Day holiday night?"

"Director..." a colleague stammered.

"This is an ordinary person's acapella re-posted by a marketing account, right? A university event or something?" The director's voice carried a confident and self-satisfied air of ease.

"It's a live performance from 'the adventures.'"

He Xuantai's heart sank, a strange feeling of heartache welling up, and the next moment, her colleague's voice came from the speaker—

"This person is Chen Fang, an artist who used to be with our company."

The study suddenly fell silent, as if the meeting had disconnected.

He Xuantai's eyes flickered, staring blankly at the screen.

Chen Fang?

Chen Fang, who was deemed by the company to be nearing the end of his peak popularity a month ago, treated as a discard, and whose contract was just terminated over a week ago?

How could he... his voice become so distinctive? And he could write such simple yet moving songs?

How could this be? What happened?

He Xuantai frowned slightly, her gaze flickering.

Could it be that the style the company had previously created for him didn't match his voice?

Or did he experience too much in the past half month, stimulating his creative potential?

Thinking of this, He Xuantai took a deep breath, but still couldn't stop questions from popping up in her mind one after another.

Finally, after nearly ten seconds of silence, a colleague's voice came from the speaker again, "How about... I or He Xuantai contact him?"

The director said: "No need, the cost of bringing him back is too high, it's not as simple as just investigating the truth and clarifying. Moreover, the idol market changes very quickly. Forget it, don't mention him. There are still two months, everyone go find suitable candidates."

The sound of paper turning came from the speaker.