Love Variety Show: The despised me exploded in popularity

Chapter 269 - 269 - 194: The Wrists We Wrestled in Youth_2

Chapter 269 – 194: The Wrists We Wrestled in Youth_2
“`

“This is also an opportunity, but it’s hard to say, you know.”

Of course, he knew. The leader might have just mentioned it casually. A mere expression of interest that might lead to nothing in the end; it was an opportunity nonetheless.

“Got it, do you have Hou’s number?” Xu Qingyan asked.

“I’ll send it to you in a bit, save it.” Lin Chuan’s tone didn’t sound excited, which put Xu Qingyan at ease. If Qingyan had been too thrilled or held too high of expectations,

it would have only been easy to do more harm than good if things didn’t pan out.

“Okay.”

After hanging up, Xu Qingyan and Pei Muchan looked at each other. The phone vibrated, and Lin Chuan had sent over Hou Xueheng’s contact information.

Pei Muchan was silent for a moment before looking up to ask.

“The big leader?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. Hou Xueheng was not someone from the entertainment industry, while Lin Chuan had one foot in the world of performing arts and the other in the literary circle.

Having a veteran to lead the way was beneficial, gaining access to high-level resources effortlessly, both popular and professional.

“Is it because of the MV?” Pei Muchan’s heart was not at peace either, as the fleeting fancy she had felt earlier dissipated, “That’s a good thing, you know, it’s hard to get into that circle.”

“If you start off on the right foot, maybe you’ll end up like Lin Chuan, or even go further.”

“Ah, I haven’t really thought about that for the time being.” Xu Qingyan touched his face, deep in thought, “After all, it’s too early to tell, it might just be an offhand question.”

“I’m thinking, do leaders actually get up this early these days?”

Pei Muchan: “….”

Noon.

Xu Qingyan arrived at the studio. Pei Muchan was catching up on sleep in the second-floor lounge. He greeted her and then left. No one mentioned what happened in the morning; it was as if it never occurred.

Once he was gone, Pei Muchan finally opened her eyes. The curtains in the lounge were tightly drawn, the air conditioning was humming, but her autumn-water-like eyes were still bright.

That morning, she had clearly seen…

Those unobstructed, undisturbed gaze, as if transcending all barriers, burning with purity. Like a golden sun, unreasonably imprinting inside the deep of her pupils.

Their understanding was so implicit that neither of them brought it up or asked. Even if they asked, they wouldn’t know. At this stage, it wasn’t like anyone had a clear conscience or was free of thought.

Only when alone did the cluttered thoughts crawl out from every corner of the room. Rustling, infiltrating everywhere, until the chest ached, and the tongue turned bitter.

…..

Xu Qingyan spent the whole day in the recording studio with Lin Wanzhou instructing him. The big shot taught hands-on, correcting his mistakes almost personally.

“Spare me, I’m not turning into a professional singer.” Xu Qingyan groaned, beginning to attempt getting out of it, “That’s enough, I really can’t learn.”

“No way, you promised me this song.” Lin Wanzhou’s eyes began to turn red, “Now you’re going to give me the brush-off again, every promise was a lie.”

“No, you… you know, hey, don’t…”

“I don’t know, I’m not omniscient.” Lin Wanzhou said, looking at him with a sense of grievance, “I don’t know anything.”

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“I’ll practice, okay? Is that not enough?” Xu Qingyan gave in. Lin Wanzhou had a way of managing him, with just the right comment at the right time, it was never long before he surrendered.

It was as if she was saying, “Is this gift exclusively mine, or does everyone else have it too? Brother, if you’re going to treat me this casually, you might as well not bother. It only makes me seem like I’m making a fuss over nothing.”

Xu Qingyan’s head hurt; he was having a hard time with Lin Wanzhou’s wistfulness. He shouldn’t have mentioned that he had breakfast with Pei Muchan this morning; it had made him uncomfortable all day long.

He felt guilty, as though he had committed a grave sin.

“Oh, then let’s go over it again, listen carefully to me sing it once more.” Lin Wanzhou said, about to sing, but suddenly stopped and grabbed Xu Qingyan’s hand.

In his daze, his hand was already pressed against her neck, his fingertips tightly against her smooth skin.

“`

“Feel where the sound is coming from,” she said seriously, “and remember you said home is the only castle, as the scent of rice fields continues to run.”

“With a slight smile, I know the dreams of childhood.”

She had finished singing and was about to speak when she noticed that he was distracted. Annoyed, she stuck out her chest, apparently forgetting to move his hand from around her neck.

“Hmph, you weren’t listening to my singing.”

“Oh, my mind wandered,” admitted Xu Qingyan, feeling a little hot sweat in the palm of his hand and an itch in his fingers as he looked at Lin Wanzhou’s slightly reproachful eyes and secretly swallowed.

Internally cursing, “Damn!” What’s gotten into me today? Could it be my mating season has arrived?

But it’s early autumn! Not yet the season when all things come back to life.

Hmm… It seems it’s not just me, they have been, perhaps inadvertently, a little different since today, with a lot more physical contact.

To be honest, he wasn’t even sure if it was his imagination.

He had never cared about such things before, but today he had become particularly sensitive. His uncooperative heart had skipped who knows how many beats, and at this rate, it would become congested.

“Um, I’ll go take a drink of water first,” he decided to tactically drink some water to calm his nerves.

“Big Head Toddler and his Big-Headed Father” had to be appropriate for the occasion, and he felt clearly off today. After all, there was serious work to be done, and he couldn’t afford delays.

This recording studio charged by the hour, visibly burning money.

“Oh,” Lin Wanzhou let go of Xu Qingyan.

When he returned after drinking water, both “big head” and “small head” were much calmer, and he dispersed the last traces of whimsy in his heart. Taking a deep breath, he earnestly devoted himself to the task at hand.

“Don’t cry, little firefly, take your escape; the eternal reliance are the rural ballads.”

The recording session continued until four in the afternoon when Lin Wanzhou got a version she was satisfied with. What’s left was the post-production work and to casually take a cover photo.

When they left the recording studio, it was around six o’clock. The studio was located in the suburbs of Xinghai. The location wasn’t remote, but when you looked up, there weren’t many high-rise buildings.

The two weren’t in a hurry to go back, chatting at the end of the corridor on the studio’s third floor. At the end of their sight was a river, and the dim twilight above left a dark yellow glow.

The evening drew on, but their idle chat showed no signs of stopping.

Perhaps the song “Rice Scent” had evoked too many childhood memories, and Xu Qingyan and Lin Wanzhou had lived in the same place and attended the same rural middle school.

Their childhood memories overlapped, fitting together like a mortise and tenon, naturally bringing numerous topics to the conversation.

“When we were in middle school, it seemed like we suddenly ran out of things to talk about, didn’t we?” Xu Qingyan suddenly said, “We used to play together, but then we didn’t interact much.”

Lin Wanzhou turned her head away, speaking sullenly.

“It wasn’t that we didn’t interact. Do you still remember the fourth session of evening study in middle school? To improve the university entrance rate, good students could stay late for extra study.”

“I remember, but usually those who stayed were just playing around, especially the boarders,” Xu Qingyan recalled slowly, “I don’t think you stayed behind often.”

The boarding conditions at the rural middle school were terrible, with fourteen or fifteen people crammed into a dorm room with a distinct smell, and in summer, the floors were perpetually damp.

Xu Qingyan, half day student and half boarder, was mischievous and liked to chat with boarders. In his memory, Lin Wanzhou always seemed to go home on time, albeit a bit reluctantly.

“I did stay behind; we even arm-wrestled,” she said.

The word “arm-wrestling” triggered his memory; only the two A classes could stay behind for the fourth evening study session. Lin Wanzhou had indeed stayed once, instigated by someone.

Perhaps it was the relentless pressure of studying, or perhaps it was the throes of adolescence. A few boys and girls stopped doing homework and mixed together to arm-wrestle.

Calling it arm-wrestling was a misnomer; it was more like touching hands, with a hint of concealment, palm sweat intermingling. It was mingled with the half-baked thoughts of youth, their minds flickering like candlelight.

He and Lin Wanzhou, under the encouragement of others, had a moment of hasty contact.

Thinking back, he remembered her hand being soft and slippery.