Chapter Forty-Eight: The Girl Who Sings

The elevator ascended smoothly, and Chen Qi soon arrived at the twenty-third floor. Xu Bunian happened to be cleaning right by the elevator doors. Perhaps he’d heard the elevator’s chime; Xu Bunian looked back with a hint of nervousness. When he saw it was Chen Qi, he let out a deep sigh of relief and said, “You gave me a scare. I thought it was one of the interviewees.”

Chen Qi looked at him, amused. “You’re being very diligent today, aren’t you?”

“What can I do? We’re shorthanded,” Xu Bunian replied as he tidied up the last bits of trash. “There are interviews soon. Gotta leave a clean and tidy impression on our visitors, right?”

Chen Qi smiled, his curiosity piqued as he glanced around the office.

Then he spotted a sign hanging not far away.

“You’ve even hung up the sign already?” He sounded surprised.

“Everything’s ready. The only thing left is the staff,” Xu Bunian said, clearly excited. “Come on, let me show you around.”

Finishing up the cleaning, he couldn’t wait to lead Chen Qi inside.

Only upon entering did Chen Qi realize Xu Bunian was truly hands-on and capable. Desks, sofas, paintings and calligraphy—over just a few days, he’d quietly arranged the entire company.

Honestly, with a few more people, the company could practically start running.

“No wonder you’re in such a hurry to hire,” Chen Qi said, impressed. “I thought your place was just an empty shell like mine.”

Xu Bunian chuckled and gestured for Chen Qi to sit on the nearby sofa. Excited, he said, “Let me show you something.”

He pulled a stack of bound papers from a drawer and handed them over.

“What’s this?” Chen Qi took them instinctively.

“Scripts.”

“Scripts?” Chen Qi looked at him, bewildered. “What kind of scripts?”

Xu Bunian couldn’t help but laugh. “Just some scripts friends sent me, hoping I’d invest with them.”

Chen Qi looked at him, unable to hide his exasperation. “Why are you giving them to me? I have no money to invest.”

Not only did he not have the money—even if he did, he wouldn’t invest it. The last thing he lacked was scripts. With all the classic film and television scripts from Earth, he could pick any one and astonish this world.

“I’m not asking you to invest,” Xu Bunian said, half-laughing, half-crying. “I just want you to help me see if any of these have investment potential.”

Chen Qi looked at him blankly.

“What is it?” Xu Bunian felt uncomfortable under his stare.

“President Xu, you really have faith in me,” Chen Qi said with feeling. “I haven’t even set foot in that industry and you want me to give you advice? Are you crazy, or am I?”

Xu Bunian had no reply.

“I’m not reading them. Make your own decision,” Chen Qi said, tossing the stack—at least a dozen scripts—onto the coffee table.

With the high risks of film and television investment, how could he dare offer casual advice? What if it lost money?

After a long moment, Xu Bunian simply packed the scripts away and stuffed them back into the drawer. “Forget it. Better to be cautious. I won’t invest in any of these.”

Hearing that, Chen Qi almost burst out laughing.

Not investing in any of them? What kind of act was this?

“Too risky,” Xu Bunian explained awkwardly, noticing Chen Qi’s puzzled look. “Don’t be fooled by my ten million—it sounds like a lot, but in the film and TV industry, it wouldn’t make a ripple. I’m new to this and don’t even know the basic rules. It’s better to be careful.”

Chen Qi just smiled. He had to admit, Xu Bunian was indeed cautious.

“You’re already hiring people, though. Once your license comes through, you’ll have to invest in something, right? Otherwise, if you’ve recruited people and have nothing for them to do, wouldn’t that be awkward?” he teased.

“No rush, I’ll start with small-budget TV dramas or sign one or two people to get familiar with the industry’s rules,” Xu Bunian replied, open-minded. Better to understand the market first than to invest blindly.

“Have you found anyone?” Chen Qi recalled Xu Bunian mentioning he wanted to sign a couple of promising newcomers.

“Don’t mention it,” Xu Bunian said, frustrated. “A few days ago, I asked some teachers at the Film Academy. All the promising newcomers had already been snapped up by other companies. The few who weren’t signed declined politely when they heard this was a new company.”

Chen Qi laughed unapologetically.

It made sense—a brand-new company, and not even a large one, with nothing to offer. Anyone who dared sign up would be out of their mind.

In the film industry, unlike others, contracts often last years. If there aren’t any resources, it could waste someone’s entire career; it was only natural for them to be cautious.

Xu Bunian shot him a sidelong look, annoyed. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll take it slow. No need to rush.”

Chen Qi stifled his laughter and was just about to say something when someone knocked on the door outside.

An interviewee had arrived.

Chen Qi glanced at the time—there was still half an hour before the scheduled ten o’clock interviews.

“Let’s not worry about it. Since they’re here, let’s get started,” Xu Bunian said politely, going out to welcome the candidate to a small meeting room next door.

Chen Qi had thought of joining them, but seeing that the candidate was a man, he lost interest and wandered around, exploring on his own.

About ten minutes later, he saw Xu Bunian escort the candidate out.

“How was it?” he asked.

“Not bad, but I’ll have to see how the rest perform,” Xu Bunian replied.

“How many people are coming today?”

“I called thirteen, but I don’t know how many will actually show up,” Xu Bunian said, glancing at Chen Qi. “Any particular type you want to hire?”

“I’ll take a look and decide if I see anyone suitable,” Chen Qi answered.

Xu Bunian left it at that.

Soon, there was another knock. Xu Bunian, who’d just been chatting with Chen Qi, hurried off to conduct another interview.

Before leaving, he asked if Chen Qi wanted to join him.

Chen Qi shook his head. He really had no interest in these monotonous interviews.

So Xu Bunian went alone.

Perhaps because the interview time was approaching, as Xu Bunian interviewed candidates, another seven or eight people arrived, and Chen Qi had to help receive them.

“Alright, your turn.”

“Okay, next.”

He ended up playing the role of assistant in the waiting area.

He even began to suspect this might have been Xu Bunian’s real reason for inviting him over.

After these interviews, it was already eleven o’clock.

Xu Bunian checked the time. “No one else should be coming. Let’s go eat together?”

“No thanks. I’ll grab something simple,” Chen Qi said, standing and heading outside. “I have things to do, so I’ll leave now.”

“Not even time for a meal?” Xu Bunian called after him.

Chen Qi waved as he left. “We’ll be in touch.”

Leaving the office building, Chen Qi wandered the area for a while, grabbed a casual meal, and took the subway toward the Conservatory of Music.

He’d changed his habit of taking taxis, feeling it was necessary to experience the city’s everyday life.

As he neared the conservatory, he put on a mask, glasses, and a hat, then contacted the girl.

After the afternoon lesson, Chen Qi told her that today would be his last class.

Over the past days, he’d mastered most of the basics. Though far from proficient, he’d at least gotten a foothold; from now on, self-study would suffice.

Of course, he mainly just didn’t have time to come so often. If needed, he could always find someone else to teach him later.

Hearing this, the girl froze, stunned for a long moment.

“Thank you!” Chen Qi said, then turned and left.

The girl stared at his departing figure, several times tempted to call out to him, but she held back.

She didn’t know why, but a faint sense of loss filled her heart.

Maybe it was because she was losing a high-paying job, or maybe because she knew that from now on, the two of them would shift from being familiar strangers to true strangers.

Thinking about it, she felt a little sad inside.

…

Leaving the conservatory, Chen Qi went to a nearby bookstore to buy some music books the girl had recommended earlier—he finally had time to get them today.

Afterward, he strolled the streets as night fell, savoring the atmosphere of this unfamiliar city.

Perhaps because he’d been here a while now, or for some other reason, though he still felt lonely, the feeling was not as overwhelming as when he first arrived.

At least now, he was patient enough to try blending in.

As he passed a pedestrian street, a melodious voice suddenly caught his ear.

Following the sound, he spotted a tall girl with shoulder-length hair singing at the roadside.

“The moonlight tonight is beautiful, it reminds me of you from many years ago…”

Hearing the lyrics, dripping with the saccharine taste of love, Chen Qi looked up instinctively.

What’s so beautiful about this moonlight? He thought. Not at all.

Whether it was the girl’s beauty or her singing, a small crowd had gathered around to listen.

Chen Qi lingered, realizing the song was actually quite pleasant.

He observed the singer closely.

Yes, a good figure, attractive; she fit his aesthetic quite well.

He glanced around, then took a seat on a nearby step, quietly listening.

Soon, the song ended.

“Whoa—”

The onlookers cheered enthusiastically and applauded generously.

Whether their applause was for the singer or the song, one couldn’t say.

“Thank you, thank you all.” The girl bowed in gratitude.

Chen Qi, chin propped in his hand, watched with interest.

There was no shortage of onlookers and applause, but not many were willing to tip her.

The girl didn’t seem to mind; perhaps she was used to it. After a short rest, she began another song.