Chapter Ninety-Nine: Restarting the Song-Selling Project

Although Xu Buyear didn’t want Chen Qi to shoulder such a great risk alone, he also felt somewhat unsure deep down. He trusted Chen Qi’s abilities, no doubt, but after all, they were stepping into a realm neither of them had ever set foot in before.

Still, uneasiness aside, if Chen Qi needed him to, he had the courage to stake everything they had. He’d already prepared himself to go all in when he resigned from Blueprint.

Afterwards, under Chen Qi’s direction, the two of them drafted a simple contract.

Chen Qi had only one special request in the contract: all rights to the film were to belong exclusively to him.

Xu Buyear naturally had no objections. Not to mention that the script was Chen Qi’s to begin with; even in terms of the investment ratio, this demand wasn’t excessive.

Once the contract was signed, Chen Qi appointed Xu Buyear as the film’s producer, giving him responsibility for the coordination and preparation of the entire crew, including signing contracts with actors and other staff—everything fell under his purview.

Xu Buyear gladly accepted. Though he’d never worked in this area before, it was a great opportunity to gain new experience. It wasn’t just Chen Qi who needed to learn and grow—he did too. He was no good at roles requiring rich imagination like directing or screenwriting, but he excelled at behind-the-scenes work. Given the chance to try, he felt absolute confidence in his ability to do the job well.

If all went as expected, after this film, they would truly possess the experience and capability to independently produce film and television projects.

With Xu Buyear’s position arranged, Chen Qi didn’t remain idle; he appointed himself as the executive producer, primarily responsible for the film’s progress and similar matters.

As for the fees for Zhao Wu, Bai Xiaoke, and the rest of the staff, they would stick to standard industry rates—a bit higher would be fine too.

Once they’d discussed all these details, Chen Qi left Future Films, handing over the various pre-production affairs to Xu Buyear and Zhou Xiao.

Perhaps because they had made so many phone calls earlier, or maybe because Chen Qi had garnered a lot of attention lately, news of his plans to make a movie quietly began circulating in the industry the moment he left Future Films.

Several film and television companies caught wind of this rumor.

Upon hearing it, the industry moguls merely smiled faintly, instinctively feeling that Chen Qi was overreaching.

Made a successful web drama and now he’s so inflated he doesn’t know his own limits? The film market isn’t that easy to break into! When you fall flat on your face, that’ll be the best-case scenario—you might end up questioning your whole existence.

None of these industry heavyweights believed in Chen Qi. They didn’t even think he’d get the project off the ground.

Who’d be foolish enough to invest in an arrogant newcomer like him?

In their eyes, producing a hit web drama didn’t mean much.

What they didn’t know was that Chen Qi’s phone calls weren’t just about seeking investment.

Even less did they expect that Chen Qi would be bold enough to decide to invest in the film himself.

If they’d known, who knows what their reaction would have been.

Even more amusing, because Zhou Xiao had been out of the limelight for so long, there was almost no media attention on him, so the preparations for “The Nameless” didn’t attract any notice either inside or outside the industry.

…

On his way back to his rental apartment, Chen Qi received a call from the real estate agent.

The apartment he was looking for had been found. Coincidentally, it was in a nice neighborhood not far from his studio.

Chen Qi went over immediately to have a look.

It was a two-bedroom, one-living-room apartment—just the high-rise type he wanted, with a large balcony. The ownership certificate showed a net area of over eighty square meters.

What delighted Chen Qi even more was that the complex was less than half a mile from his studio.

He toured the apartment with great interest.

The décor was simple, and since it had been unoccupied for a while, he could see some dust. Other than that, there were some basic pieces of furniture and appliances. The agent said the landlord would remove them if Chen Qi didn’t want them.

The agent, rather gossipy, also told him the owner was a tycoon with more than a dozen properties!

Chen Qi just smiled and didn’t join in the gossip.

After a careful look around, he became quite interested in the apartment and decided to rent it on the spot.

A three-year lease, and that was that.

Signing the contract, making the payment, and getting the keys—all done in one go, leaving the agent grinning from ear to ear.

In the agent’s flattering words, he just loved this kind of straightforward, generous client!

The landlord was efficient too. After the contract was signed, he immediately sent people to remove everything Chen Qi didn’t want.

Except for the kitchen range hood and the air conditioners in the two bedrooms, Chen Qi had them clear everything else out—removing those would be too much trouble, and he couldn’t be bothered.

While the landlord’s people were cleaning the place, Chen Qi called Su Xiaoxiao and asked her to come over.

Half an hour later, Su Xiaoxiao hurried over.

“When you buy furniture, just get everything for this place too—beds, sofa, dining table, chairs, whatever. As always, arrange it however you see fit.” Once again, Chen Qi washed his hands of responsibility.

If he could avoid work, he would.

“Okay,” Su Xiaoxiao replied, not saying much.

“How’s the studio coming along?” Chen Qi asked.

“The renovations are nearly complete,” Su Xiaoxiao answered quickly. “I’ve already contacted cleaners—they can come anytime. I’ve also surveyed the market for office equipment, furniture, and appliances, and have preliminary purchase agreements with several suppliers.”

“Good, carry on. I’ll leave now.” He handed her the keys to the apartment and left with a word.

“Try to have this place set up before the new semester starts—my lease at the other place is almost up.”

“…Alright.”

…

Leaving the neighborhood, Chen Qi walked to his studio for a look. Satisfied that the finished renovations matched his original expectations, he finally left.

Back at his rental, Chen Qi took stock of his finances.

He had just over fifteen million yuan in available funds.

That was cutting it close.

Of course, with that sum plus Xu Buyear’s five million, making the film shouldn’t be a problem—but promotion and marketing afterwards might be difficult.

From what he knew, publicity required a hefty budget as well.

How could he earn a large sum in a short time?

Chen Qi thought back to his real reason for joining Blueprint Advertising in the first place.

Why not restart his song-selling business?

With his current connections, finding a popular singer wouldn’t be difficult.

After thinking it over, he opened his laptop to research the music industry in this world.

He’d listened to music from this world more than once before and had found many good songs, but he’d only ever listened casually, never delving into the industry itself.

He searched a few keywords and saw that all the major media outlets were publishing reports about the music scene’s ongoing slump, the declining domestic music market, musicians struggling to reinvent themselves, and how composers and lyricists were having a hard time, and so on.

Chen Qi couldn’t help but chuckle wryly. These articles made it sound as if the music industry was on the brink of collapse.

He checked the dates on those reports and confirmed that they were all recent.

He was half-skeptical. Was the music scene in this world suffering from such a severe disconnect?

He thought for a while and then visited one of the major music platforms. Scanning the homepage, he saw the most prominent new song chart.

He clicked on the top song.

The music started playing.

Chen Qi listened quietly, but after half a minute, he glanced at the lyrics, then grimaced and closed the page.

What on earth was this?!

Was this really the number one song on the new releases chart?

He took a deep breath and tried the second song.

Then the third…

And the fourth…

Having witnessed the quality of the chart-topper, he no longer had any hope for the rest.

If the best was that bad, how much better could the rest be?

And ultimately, he wasn’t disappointed.

To be honest, he couldn’t tell any difference between the lower-ranked songs and the number one.

He had no idea what metrics the site used to rank these songs—it must have been quite an effort.

This wasn’t a new song chart; it was a leaderboard for mediocrity!

At that moment, Chen Qi felt those media reviews had been remarkably restrained. If the current music scene truly was at this level, it wasn’t just a matter of poor prospects—it was a disaster!

After a long silence, he browsed other charts on the platform: red song chart, click chart, rising chart…

He clicked through every ranking on the homepage.

After nearly an hour of torturing himself with these lists, he gave up.

He switched to curated playlists, seeking some classic songs. Only then did his battered heart begin to recover.

He then searched for popular singers from recent years.

After some busy research, he did manage to find a few singers who matched his aesthetic.

Some were still active in the entertainment industry; others had faded due to the poor market, and some had even left music altogether to become actors.

After carefully learning about these singers, Chen Qi finally chose a talented female singer-songwriter.

She was exceptionally gifted—an emerging leader among the new generation, and the one closest to becoming a diva.

To borrow a phrase from classic fantasy novels, she was… half a step away from being a true diva!