Chapter 42: Misfits and Rejects

Her mother’s words suddenly reminded Lin Xiyue—
in cases like this, the lyricist and composer didn’t have to be the same person.
Or rather, the composer didn’t have to be only one person.

She could absolutely ask her mom to help revise the melody with her seasoned experience.
Although the time was tight, and revising someone else’s work was much more restrictive than composing freely—meaning Xu Wei probably wouldn’t be able to be at her very best—it would still be far superior to what Lin Xiyue could manage alone.

So without hesitation, Lin Xiyue agreed on the spot and dragged her mother to sit down with her.

You know, Mom has always been my best partner.
This woman is absurdly strong.
I can’t wait to submit the revised track already.
As for Jinnian? I hope everything goes smoothly for her at home.

Thus the mother and daughter began working through the night to polish the song.
Both of them knew—
if the piece was accepted, it would bring enormous benefit to Lin Entertainment’s business and to Lin Xiyue’s own career.

*******************

Zhao Entertainment

Meanwhile, at this hour, Lin Ziyu was still working overtime at the company.

“No… still missing something. It hasn’t reached my expectations.”

She stopped singing and took a sip of water to moisten her throat.

She’d been recording the same single all day, yet each result still left her dissatisfied.

The staff nearby were helpless—they wanted to go home too, but if Miss Lin Ziyu wasn’t satisfied, then nobody was going anywhere.

If certain past incidents covered in secrecy might make people judge her character, not a single person in Zhao Entertainment doubted her professionalism.

Her rise to become the brightest new star in C Nation’s entertainment industry wasn’t only due to talent—
her seriousness and relentless work ethic were equally essential.

The single she was recording today was also titled “Back in Those Days”.
Clearly, she was also aiming for the movie’s theme song.

On Starfall, actors’ ranks were graded through multiple metrics.
Lin Ziyu’s popularity already placed her among first-tier stars in practice, but on the website she was still marked as “pre–first-tier.”
That was because she’d debuted too recently and lacked heavyweight collaborations.

This theme song was the perfect opportunity to change that—
a major collaboration with the film industry.
She was determined to get it.

Zhao Entertainment had even assigned their chief producer to compose for her, creating a high-scoring A-grade piece rated 5500 on Starfall.
Once she recorded the demo, it would be submitted to the film team.

Even though it was technically a “demo,” Lin Ziyu held herself to the standards of a full-length official single.
She desperately needed this theme song.

“Miss Lin, should we cancel that PigPig Music engagement?”

During her break, her agent approached and asked.

If her song were accepted, she would need to focus entirely on recording the finalized theme song.
All unrelated work would have to be cleared.

“Mm, cancel it. It doesn’t pay much anyway.”

Lin Ziyu nodded.
Earlier, she’d accepted PigPig Music’s commercial gig: to have lunch with the champion of their rookie contest as part of the reward.

It didn’t help her popularity; it was just a way for the company to earn a small appearance fee.
But Zhao Entertainment wasn’t short on money now.

“By the way, what was that contest champion’s name again?”

She asked casually.
After all, she herself had emerged from various rookie competitions.

The agent’s expression turned strange—
She knew Miss Lin rarely kept up with online news, but she didn’t expect her to be unaware even now, when things had blown up so much.

“It’s a duet group. Their names are Lin Xiyue and Xia Jinnian.”

As expected, the moment the first name was spoken, Lin Ziyu’s expression shifted.

No one knew what she was thinking.

“If there’s nothing else, I’ll let you continue recording the demo~”

The agent turned to leave, but Lin Ziyu stopped her.

“Keep that engagement. Don’t cancel it.”

“Huh? Ah—okay…”

The agent blinked in surprise but complied.

Lin Ziyu sat alone on the recording studio sofa, dazed for a while, before waving her hand.

“Forget it. Let’s stop for today. We’ll try again tomorrow. Good work, everyone.”

The staff practically fled, terrified she might change her mind and make them resume.

Soon, the room was empty—only Lin Ziyu remained, sitting there in silence.

“…You want to walk the same path I did?”

******************

The Next Day

Today was the third day since exam results were released, and various rankings had already been made public.

And many media outlets suddenly discovered something astonishing—

The student who made headlines for nearly scoring full marks, the top scorer across ten provinces…
was actually that Starfall Best Newcomer, the rising sensation—
Lin Xiyue?!

Media rushed to report on this.

After all, the entertainment industry had long been seen by the public as a cultural wasteland.

Many young artists had dropped out of middle school or high school.
Someone like Lin Xiyue—beautiful, talented, AND a ten-province top scorer—was practically a once-in-a-generation anomaly.

This was obviously great for her; it added even more intrigue to her public persona.

Because that was how the entertainment world worked—
every artist needed a “role,” an identity that the general public could remember.

Sometimes, when you mention “Lin Xiyue,” people might not recall immediately.

But if you say “that sweet-looking girl, Starfall’s Best Newcomer, the academic prodigy and ten-province top scorer,”
everyone remembers.

Naturally, Lin Xiyue didn’t waste this sudden flood of attention.
She quickly coordinated with major platforms to push related videos, strengthening her academic-genius persona.

Most importantly—
her persona was completely real.
No risk of a future “collapse,” unlike a certain senior in the industry who once had the same academic persona…

****************

Jiangcheng — ‘Back in Those Days’ Film Crew

As the latest work of a renowned director, this production team had overwhelming resources.
Submissions poured in like snow.

Of course, most were instantly dismissed.
The requirements stated “A-grade on Starfall preferred, exceptionally strong B-grade possible.”
In truth, if a piece wasn’t at least A-grade, they wouldn’t even bother opening it.

“What are these weird, rotten rejects? Look at this one—500 points, and they dare submit it? Do they think our film crew is a garbage dump?”

The music supervisor frowned at the scoresheets in front of him.
Open submissions brought the chance of discovering hidden gems, but it came at the price of having to sift through countless useless ones.

This supervisor was a highly respected veteran in the entertainment industry—
his name was Zhang Zheng…