Chapter 34: An Unexpected Call

Hurriedly returning to her familiar territory, breathing in the familiar scent of the dormitory, Chu Luoxi finally relaxed, letting out a long, heavy sigh. She hoped never to encounter such stimulating events again; her frail little body simply couldn’t withstand such torment.

“What are you doing? You look like you’ve been chased by ghosts,” Zhu Liu and Liu Yu Jia stared at her in confusion, amusement flickering in Liu Yu Jia’s eyes as she asked. That lingering fear and haunted expression—where did it come from?

“Don’t even mention it. I practically saw a ghost,” Chu Luoxi sighed deeply, her tone full of relief at still being alive.

At her words, Zhu Liu and Liu Yu Jia exchanged bewildered glances.

In the blink of an eye, more than half the semester had passed, and June was fast approaching. Those who needed to be busy remained busy, while the idle ones continued to languish in boredom.

“Huh? The album went platinum after only two months of sales? Tsk tsk, Xiao Jin, that’s an impressive achievement. Congratulations,” Chu Luoxi remarked as she listened to her phone and poured herself a drink, not forgetting to offer praise.

A platinum record meant a sales figure of one million—no small feat in this era, even without the scourge of piracy, given the dominance of the online market. Album sales generally only counted physical copies.

Online sales did contribute to the overall revenue, but most people, when spending money online, tended to pick and choose, or only liked a single song, rarely buying an entire album’s worth of tracks.

So, the number was genuinely impressive, representing a million physical albums sold.

It seemed Ji Yan Jin truly had great potential in the music industry; apparently, he was the lead singer in his former group as well.

Although she was happy for him—this new beginning couldn’t be better, and it was clear he had many devoted fans, not to mention a strong showing for the company—his decision to call her just to show off made Chu Luoxi want to knock him down a peg.

But thinking it over, she refrained. See how magnanimous she was!

It was said that the song she had tinkered with online, “Spicy Shredded Chicken,” which she gifted to Ji Yan Jin, was nearly rivaling the album’s title track in downloads. Evidently, early publicity was crucial; many listeners were drawn by the name alone.

She wasn’t surprised by this. That song was originally created by fans, catchy by necessity, and paired with a gentle, pleasing melody, leaving a good first impression.

“What, you’re already collecting songs for your second album?” Chu Luoxi was a little surprised. So soon?

“It’s not as much as you think. The process of collecting songs is slow. If you’re lucky, it might take a month or two; if not, even a year or two might not be enough to gather an album’s worth. I’ve started, but who knows when the second album will come out? The promotion for this album is almost over, so maybe I’ll soon be unemployed!” Ji Yan Jin lamented, sounding utterly dejected.

Chu Luoxi had a near-perfect voice, but in her previous life hadn’t been involved in the music scene, so she didn’t really know the specifics. Hearing Ji Yan Jin talk like this, she gained a lot of insight: “Come on, you’re exaggerating! Even if you don’t release another album, do you think the company will let you rest? Even without promotion, there are performances and all kinds of publicity. I don’t believe you’ll ever be idle.”

Entertainment companies never miss a chance to squeeze their artists dry. With the success of Ji Yan Jin’s first solo album, they’d surely arrange a packed schedule for him, wringing out every last bit of value—he’d barely have time to catch his breath.

Though entertainment companies in Huaxia weren’t as heartless as some countries, treating artists like machines, business was business, and they could be ruthless in their own way.

“Oh no, that’s tragic. I thought I could hang out with you for a while!” Ji Yan Jin continued his exaggerated moaning.

“Please, I’m just a student—what are you doing hanging out with me? And who was it that said they’d look after me?” Chu Luoxi twitched at the corner of her mouth. “With your acting skills, even if I had connections, I wouldn’t dare introduce you to anyone. You’d ruin my reputation. If you don’t want to be stuck in the music scene forever, you’d better work on your abysmal acting!”

“Uh… that’s a bit harsh,” Ji Yan Jin complained, feeling thoroughly deflated.

“If you don’t want to be looked down on, you need to show some skill!” Chu Luoxi retorted bluntly. Every time she thought of his acting, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

Ji Yan Jin wilted instantly.

After hanging up, Chu Luoxi chuckled to herself. It seemed acting was still Ji Yan Jin’s Achilles’ heel—something she’d never noticed in her past life.

Before she finished laughing, the phone rang again. Chu Luoxi was surprised—could Ji Yan Jin be calling back, unwilling to accept defeat, and looking for another excuse to ramble?

Unconcerned, she glanced at her phone—and paused. Quickly, she picked up. “Director Li, hello!”

Yes, it was Li Shuang Mu on the other end. When she left the “Dragon Roars Across the World” crew, he had asked for her number, but she hadn’t expected his call to come so soon.

“Dragon Roars Across the World” had wrapped at the end of April, launching an enormous publicity campaign and confirming a June 1st premiere on a satellite channel.

Not only were the main cast and crew flying around the country for promotion, but Xiao Jing Xuan’s star power also caused rival dramas set to air at the same time to avoid clashing with it.

Especially when the first batch of promotional photos was released—it was a sweeping victory. Xiao Jing Xuan’s styling alone set the whole nation howling.

It was Xiao Jing Xuan’s first time in period costume, and with “Dragon Roars Across the World” hyped up but shrouded in secrecy, no real news had leaked before the wrap—not even the lead actors’ styling. Thus, the long-awaited sugar-coated bombshell, once unveiled, caused a seismic shock.

For a while, pink bubbles floated across all of Huaxia, spilling over the borders and sweeping abroad.

It had to be said, the people behind “Dragon Roars Across the World” publicity were not only seasoned but masters. Just as the hype was cooling, around mid-May, they decisively released the first trailer, instantly reigniting the buzz—and pouring oil on the flames.

Who knew what Li Shuang Mu was thinking? The trailer’s opening featured Chu Luoxi as Yun Tianxue: a stone bridge, a fleeting smile—a mere minute of footage, yet Yun Tianxue was given multiple shots. The male lead and his father’s appearances intersected, played by the same actor with different styling, leaving viewers unable to tell them apart.

The result was predictable. Many ended up thinking that the goddess-like Yun Tianxue was the main female lead. With such guidance, Chu Luoxi couldn’t help but worry for Li Shuang Mu—once the drama aired, what chaos would ensue? Didn’t he fear the audience would be even more disappointed with the actual female lead?