Chapter 9: Audition

Outside the recording studios of Lin Entertainment, long lines had formed.
A crowd of young women, dazzling as a flock of colorful songbirds, were waiting for today’s audition.

Standing nearby, Lin Xiyue watched the commotion with interest.
Perhaps because she had never been to the company before, no one besides Secretary Xiao Li recognized her as Xu Wei’s daughter.

But Lin Xiyue’s looks and bearing were simply too striking to ignore.
Soon, everyone’s gaze shifted toward her, wondering when such a delicate, doll-like girl had joined the company.

As professional artists, they could tell at a glance that Lin Xiyue wasn’t wearing makeup—or at most, just a hint of it.
Yet even so, her natural beauty made the rest of them look a bit pale in comparison.

And so, in the eyes of Lin Entertainment’s artists, a flicker of hostility began to appear.

It wasn’t strange.
In the entertainment industry, not feeling jealousy was what would have been strange.

“What’s that old woman trying to pull this time? Calling us all in first thing in the morning—does she really have some heavyweight project up her sleeve?”

“Weighty, my ass. She’s been chasing output for the past two years and can’t even produce a B-rank song anymore. C-rank ones are rare, and most are D-rank fillers—just padding the numbers to scrape together enough revenue to keep the company from being downgraded.”

“Exactly. The company’s already half-dead, and she’s still stirring up trouble. Anyway, once my contract’s up, I’m gone. I’ve already been in touch with Galaxy Entertainment.”

Several young artists gossiped loudly enough that half the room could hear them.
Naturally, Lin Xiyue caught every word, and her brows furrowed.

It seemed her company’s situation was even worse than she had imagined.
Otherwise, these women wouldn’t dare badmouth her mother so openly—and with no one stepping up to defend her.

And that bit about “earning money to keep the company’s rank”?
Her mother hadn’t mentioned anything like that before.

She shook her head slightly and quietly memorized the names printed on the ID badges hanging from those women’s chests.
Run into me later, and you’ll regret it, she thought coldly.

“Cough, cough—everyone, quiet down!”

A man who looked like a recording engineer stepped forward, raising a hand for silence.
But no one paid him any attention; the chatter continued.

Until he said one number.

“The song you’ll be auditioning with today has a StarNet score of 3,150 points.”

The room fell silent instantly.
Every artist froze.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“President Xu has already made the song’s rating public. You can all search ‘Meteor Shower’ and see for yourselves.”

The moment he said that, everyone pulled out their phones to search.
Soon, gasps of astonishment filled the air.

“No way—she was sitting on a track like this all along? Over three thousand points?! That woman’s really been hiding her cards.”

“Tell me about it. I’ve got to grab this one! Damn, I should’ve warmed up my throat before coming!”

In an instant, the entire crowd’s attitude flipped a full one-eighty.
Moments ago, they’d been listless, impatient, and ready to get the audition over with.
Now, they were pushing and shuffling, desperate to get ahead in line, faces lit with excitement.

Because auditions were fickle things.
In theory, it shouldn’t matter who went first or last—the producer would listen to all the demos later and decide objectively.

But in practice, sometimes the producer just clicked with someone on the spot, feeling they were the perfect fit.
When that happened, the decision was made immediately, and everyone else didn’t even get a chance to perform.
That’s why everyone was suddenly scrambling for position.

“That’s just how this industry is,” Secretary Xiao Li’s voice came from beside Lin Xiyue again, calm and slightly amused.
“Honestly, the whole entertainment world works like this—no one moves unless there’s profit involved. It’s reality, Miss Lin, please don’t mind.”

She smiled lightly, as if long used to the scene before her.

“A B-rank song—especially one with over three thousand points—if someone can perform it perfectly, it’s guaranteed to be a Gold Single at minimum, with a strong chance of going Platinum.”

“Eh? What’s that mean?”

Lin Xiyue tilted her head at the unfamiliar terms.

“Gold Single means fifty thousand sales,” Xiao Li explained patiently.
“Platinum means one hundred thousand. All singles on StarNet sell for a flat rate of three yuan each here in Country C.”

She continued,
“According to standard contracts, the revenue split is fifty percent to the company, thirty percent to the producer, and twenty percent to the singer.”

“So if a singer lands this song, they’d earn at least three hundred thousand yuan from sales alone?”

“That’s right. And that’s just the direct income from sales. The real money comes afterward—endorsements, magazine covers, TV appearances, live performances.
Conservatively speaking, a Platinum Single brings in at least two million yuan in total benefits for the singer, not even counting the boost to their fame, which is priceless.”

Lin Xiyue nodded slowly.
No wonder those catty women who were mocking her mother earlier were now elbowing each other to get to the front.
Who wouldn’t be tempted by a few million?

Inside the recording studio, Xu Wei sat with a pair of monitoring headphones on, listening to each artist’s sample alongside the engineer.

“I’ll take you to watch the meteor shower fall upon the earth, let your tears fall on my shoulder—”

Hearing the voice through her headphones, Xu Wei frowned and raised a hand.

“That’s enough. Next.”

The artist’s expression fell instantly—she knew her chances were gone.

One after another, each performer was cut off midway through, some lasting only a few lines, others a verse or two at best.

Xu Wei grew increasingly frustrated.
She simply couldn’t find a voice that fit.
Even if she had to pick the “tallest among the short,” at least that one needed to stand a little taller.

In her vision, this song was meant to capture the sweet, innocent confession and promise between youthful lovers—a nostalgic ode to first love.
Its core charm lay in tenderness and innocence.

But among the company’s remaining artists, none seemed right.
Some had completely mismatched vocal tones, some tried too hard to pretend to sound youthful, and others carried a jaded, worldly air that smothered the sweetness the song needed.

Not to mention that their singing techniques were… average at best.

“Ah… she really would’ve been perfect for this.”

Xu Wei sighed softly.
Once again, her mind drifted to that person—Lin Ziyu.
Her adopted daughter had been the ideal voice for this kind of song.
What a pity… what a waste.

Meanwhile, Lin Xiyue, who had been watching the auditions the whole time, could tell from her mother’s expression that she wasn’t satisfied.

She wasn’t, either.
She realized she’d been right earlier—Lin Entertainment really didn’t have a single artist worth showcasing.
They were all just coasting along.

“Miss Lin,” a voice called from the door, “there’s a young lady named Xia at the front desk—she says she’s your friend.”