Chapter Thirty: There’s Something Wrong with This System

Chen Fang was filled with remorse.
How could he have judged someone with prejudice?
An Tinghan was genuinely a good person.
She burned herself to light Chen Fang’s way.
From this moment on,
Chen Fang would not allow anyone to speak ill of An Tinghan.
Even if An Tinghan were clinging to Cheng Jie, gnawing on him, Chen Fang would still praise her for doing it well.
Looking at the income in his personal wallet, Chen Fang felt considerably relieved. Although Pang Tong had accidentally liked and followed An Tinghan, it didn’t seem to be a bad thing after all.
Pang Tong was utterly astonished.
"Withdraw it!"
"Hurry up and withdraw it!"
Pang Tong urged.
He wouldn’t feel safe with that money anywhere except his own bank account.
At his words,
Chen Fang immediately chose to cash out. In just a few seconds, a text message notified him that over forty thousand yuan had arrived.
Pang Tong stared at the bank notification, lost in thought.
So,
short videos really could make money.
In high spirits, Chen Fang opened the takeout bag on the desk and began to savor his barbecue.
He gave the entire forty thousand plus to Pang Tong.
Originally, Chen Fang planned to rely on short videos for a transitional period, and once he signed with a company and his income stabilized, he would hand all the earnings from his personal account to Pang Tong.
But now,
Chen Fang had already signed with a company.
And not just any contract—a groundbreaking B-level agreement within the industry.
Chen Fang was no longer short of money.
On the contrary, Pang Tong had many expenses in daily life.
"Chen Fang, I can’t accept this money,"
Pang Tong refused.
After finishing his barbecue, Chen Fang wiped his hands. "It’s not a gift. This is my investment seed money. When your restaurant opens, I’ll be the largest shareholder."
Upon hearing this,
Pang Tong wanted to say more.
Chen Fang waved him off and, feeling a bit tired, returned to his room.
Midnight.
Time to open the mystery box, right on the dot!
Lately, luck had been decent.
The items from the boxes had been somewhat useful to Chen Fang, unlike the previous pots, pans, and laundry detergent—utterly useless.
"Opening the box now."
"Congratulations, host, you have obtained the complete lyrics and score for the song 'If Wishes Come True'."
Sleepiness vanished instantly for Chen Fang.
"If Wishes Come True?"
Was it the one he was thinking of?
He hurriedly opened his system inventory and played the song in his mind. The lyrics and arrangement felt etched into his bones and blood—so familiar.
"Wang Fei’s 'If Wishes Come True'."
"It really is that one."
After the initial excitement, worry crept in.

This song required only one thing from a voice: ethereal clarity—the more ethereal, the better. The problem was, even with Chen Fang’s wide vocal range, he couldn’t reach that level of airy lightness.
Moreover,
this was a song better suited to a female voice.
"Forget it, better get some sleep."
Tonight’s reward was unbeatable, but the downside was it was useless to him personally.
The next day,
Chen Fang went straight to knock on Pang Tong’s door.
Seven in the morning.
He dragged the groggy Pang Tong out for a run. If Chen Fang ran alone, he’d be done and back home in an hour, but with Pang Tong, the session was much longer.
When they finally returned to the apartment, Pang Tong collapsed onto the floor, gasping as if he might die. "I can’t go on, I’m done for! Let me eat something, drink some water."
Pang Tong was drenched in sweat.
Meanwhile, Chen Fang looked perfectly at ease, not the slightest bit tired.
"This will be the norm from now on."
"Get used to it, fatty."
Since he hadn’t sweated much, Chen Fang let Pang Tong shower first.
Sitting on the sofa,
Chen Fang thought of An Tinghan.
Since An Tinghan’s fans had helped him, he couldn’t be stingy—he had to write her a song in earnest.
With that,
he searched for An Tinghan’s name on Q Cloud Music.
"So many,"
he marveled.
An Tinghan had over fifty songs.
During her most active years, she released a dozen or so songs annually, but these days her output had slowed considerably.
Chen Fang picked several of her most liked and commented tracks and listened to them.
The more he listened, the stranger he felt.
With an odd expression, he asked his system, "System, are you an An Tinghan fan?"
"This system serves only the host."
"Are you sure?"
Chen Fang was skeptical.
An Tinghan’s timbre and vocal range were strikingly similar to Wang Fei’s.
Both possessed that same ethereal quality, that same clear, floating lightness.
Such qualities naturally gave the impression of a heavenly, captivating sound.
It was too much of a coincidence!
Chen Fang had just planned to write a song for An Tinghan, and last night’s mystery box had produced Wang Fei’s 'If Wishes Come True'—as if it were made for her.
He couldn’t help but suspect his system was up to something.
Still,
this was a good thing.
Now he didn’t have to rack his brains.
Giving 'If Wishes Come True' to An Tinghan would absolutely satisfy her.
That afternoon,
Chen Fang made a trip to the company.
One major benefit of signing was access to a private recording studio—especially with a B-level contract, which gave him exceptional rights and autonomy.
In the studio,

Chen Fang began adjusting the equipment on his own.
Just then,
Xi Yuanyuan pushed the door open and entered.
"Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to the company?"
She sounded a bit annoyed.
After all, she was Chen Fang’s agent.
Chen Fang smiled. "I’m just here to record the official version of 'Fragrant Rice', nothing else to trouble you with."
Xi Yuanyuan sat down. "Then I have to listen."
'Fragrant Rice' was a legendary song.
Xi Yuanyuan’s lips curled into a smile.
She was probably the first person to hear the full version.
Chen Fang had no objection. After a simple equipment check, he recorded all the instrumental backing, then mixed them into a single audio file. Once done, he moved into the inner booth by the microphone, ready to sing.
Xi Yuanyuan’s task was simple.
Once Chen Fang signaled he was ready, she just needed to play the audio file.
Through the glass,
Chen Fang put on his noise-canceling headphones.
Then,
he gave the cue to start.
Xi Yuanyuan pressed play on the screen.
At the same time,
the pre-recorded arrangement sounded in Chen Fang’s headphones—the familiar chirping of crickets at the intro, followed by a lively drumbeat mingled with guitar.
The moment the prelude began, Chen Fang slipped into the zone.
He finished recording the song in one take.
When he stepped out, the shock and delight on Xi Yuanyuan’s face were unmistakable.
"Perfect!"
"Not even a need for pitch correction."
Xi Yuanyuan couldn’t stop exclaiming.
Hearing the full version of 'Fragrant Rice', she once again felt how wise she had been to sign Chen Fang.
Chen Fang regarded her with amused curiosity. "Am I handsome or what?"
"A little bit,"
Xi Yuanyuan admitted.
"Don’t fall for me, it’ll lead nowhere, unless..."
Chen Fang teased as he checked the recording.
"Unless what?"
"You really want to fall for me?"
He turned to meet Xi Yuanyuan’s gaze.
In that instant,
her cheeks flushed and she retorted, "There’s a line of people wanting to win me that stretches out of the country. You think you stand a chance?"
He couldn’t argue with that.
With looks like hers, a single shout would summon a swarm of eager admirers like Kang Zikai.
After confirming the song was perfect, Chen Fang looked at Xi Yuanyuan, thought for a moment, and said, "You have Tong Qin’s card, right? Give her a call and tell her the song for An Tinghan has a direction now and she should come by for a chat."