Chapter Two: This Style of Song Is Bound to Become a Hit

After bustling around the house for a while, Lin Shouxia soon awaited Lee Do-hyun’s arrival.

When the two met, they exchanged brief pleasantries before pulling ingredients from the refrigerator to begin preparing the meal.

With Lee Do-hyun’s appearance, the program quickly returned to its usual rhythm: two grown men bustling about the kitchen, occasionally chatting about stories from their circle.

Once everything was ready, the towering figure, standing at 1.82 meters, presented the dishes in front of the camera, inadvertently blocking the main subject behind him completely.

“Bro, I think you’re blocking me,” the man said, licking his lips before gently pushing aside this little mountain to reappear in frame.

Chatting with a senior in the industry was actually quite a burden. Lin Shouxia had only recently connected with the rising actor Lee through IU’s introduction.

Fortunately, Lee Do-hyun was an interesting person in real life. The two leaned back on the sofa drinking beer, and as the buzz of alcohol warmed them, their conversation grew livelier.

“Ah, your room is really clean,” Lee Do-hyun’s gaze swept around the house before he broke into his signature smile.

To be honest, he and this newcomer had only met a few times at gatherings and weren’t very familiar with each other. Today’s guest was originally supposed to be IU, but she had to send him in her place due to other commitments.

“It should still count as clean…” The man chuckled awkwardly at Lee Do-hyun. “Thanks for the compliment, bro.”

“To be honest, it’s been quite a while since we last met. Have you gotten any new work lately?”

“A few days ago, senior Lee Maojin called me, hoping I could join a program as a cover singer.”

“‘Lee Maojin’s Service’?”

“Yes.” The man nodded, smiling a bit happily.

Although he had no major hits yet, and was still only appearing as a cover singer, this was still a promising opportunity.

New artists fear most the lack of a stage to showcase themselves. The show “Lee Maojin’s Service” had good viewership, so it might help him gain some fans.

“Make sure to seize the chance well. Opportunities to perform on stage are precious.” As he spoke, Lee Do-hyun slipped effortlessly into the role of a senior giving guidance.

Overall, the atmosphere remained lighthearted. The live chat was mostly focused on their own topics, not paying much attention to the conversation between the two.

As the evening grew more tipsy, the two young men abandoned all pretense—no concern for image, dignity, or seniority. They sat cross-legged on the floor, arm in arm, eating and drinking comfortably with no airs.

“There’s a guitar here. Want to sing me a song?”

“Not just covers—I actually want to see your personal interpretation of music.”

---

As a seasoned senior who had debuted years ago, Lee Do-hyun naturally knew how to support a newcomer.

For a singer, the most important thing is the stage. The program “I Live Alone” offered more than just glimpses into personality and daily life—it also served as a platform for artists to promote their work.

“Our company does have plans to release a single for me soon,” Lin Shouxia nodded, understanding Lee Do-hyun’s implication.

Singing was his specialty and one of his main ways to attract fans. “I Live Alone” consistently drew good ratings, and even guests with modest popularity like himself could still maintain solid viewer engagement.

He pulled up a stool beside the bed, slung the guitar over his back, cleared his throat theatrically, and began to sing.

“It’s like a Polaroid love,
A clichéd romance,
But my heart beats fast,
Why am I like this?
Why am I trapped by love...”

After some consideration, he chose to sing the single he was preparing to release.

Like IU, he favored this kind of fresh, light style.

Sitting by the window with sunlight casting a golden edge around him, his voice quieted the once noisy live chat considerably.

Singing with a guitar was a worn-out trope on the show—every artist trying to build a singer persona used it—and yet it worked. As long as the singing was good, even the oldest clichés found an audience.

While Lin Shouxia sang, Lee Do-hyun sat on the edge of the sofa, unabashedly moving his hands to cheer on his junior.

“If your single is this good, you’re definitely going to blow up!”

“Thanks, bro.”

“Will you sing this song on the show in a couple of days?”

“Hm?”

“The company might not be happy about that, though. The single and music video haven’t been released yet.”

---

Management companies don’t work without profit in mind. They had invested so much effort into crafting his persona and securing variety show appearances. Naturally, they wanted to see returns from recording the single and producing the MV.

Singing a few lines casually on “I Live Alone” could be justified as warming up the single, but performing on a professional music program with professional recording equipment—that might not sit well with the company.

From Lin Shouxia’s standpoint, he’d be happy to follow Lee Do-hyun’s advice, but as a rookie, he had to consider the company’s opinions when making decisions.

“Shall we discuss it?” Lee Do-hyun tried to coax Lin Shouxia into going for it together.

He could sing too—at least well enough not to be off-key.

With a basic grasp of music appreciation, Lee Do-hyun could immediately tell how valuable Lin Shouxia’s singing was.

In Korea, this style of song was sure to be a hit and have some staying power. Promoting it on “Lee Maojin’s Service” would only enhance its effect.

For newcomers, debut dates often shifted.

Look at SM next door: even after finalizing aespa’s lineup, they kept changing the debut date until confirming it in the fourth quarter.

Lin Shouxia originally wanted to keep a low profile before officially debuting as a singer, but Loen had signed him with great fanfare to build hype.

He hadn’t even debuted yet, and yet they had already fed him a flood of variety show opportunities.

Signing with a major company had its perks—whether or not he became popular, resource allocation was always maxed out.

Loen lagged behind other companies in artist management, but they had IU—a national singer with SK Capital backing her. Resources for artists here were never lacking.

“Well… I’ll give it a try in a couple of days,” Lin Shouxia said, somewhat swayed by Lee Do-hyun. “‘Lee Maojin’s Service’ is indeed a great promotional opportunity.”

Using it only to cover songs by seniors felt like a waste.

“Go for it. I think the result will be great.”