Chapter Sixty-Six Recording "Breaking Through the East Wind"

Unable to withstand You Nianwei’s persistent coaxing and pestering, Xi Yuanyuan finally gave her Chen Fang’s private contact information.

“Don’t disturb him for now,” she cautioned. “He’s very busy.”

What she thought was that, after this period passed, perhaps You Nianwei would forget about it altogether.

You Nianwei, of course, agreed readily. After hanging up, Xi Yuanyuan gazed at the documents on her desk, feeling uncharacteristically irritable. She decided to abandon her paperwork for the moment and headed toward the recording studio.

Inside the studio, Chen Fang had been warming up his voice for half an hour. The little green tonic he’d received from the system some time ago was long gone, and nothing good had come out of the recent unboxings. So, when practicing, he needed to pace himself, unable to push as hard as he once did.

“You’re here,” Chen Fang said, glancing at Xi Yuanyuan while adjusting the instruments and recording equipment.

Today, he had two songs to record. One was “Blue and White Porcelain,” which he’d already sung during the third-round auditions. The other was “East Wind Breaks,” which he’d bought from the system for five million just last night.

“Blue and White Porcelain” would be easy; he’d already recorded a simple version, and now just needed to enhance it with more instruments. But “East Wind Breaks” would have to be built from scratch, recorded bit by bit.

In truth, Chen Fang could have delegated the accompaniment to others. Even Future Stardom had made it clear: his job was to sing, and the rest could be handled by professionals. But Chen Fang wasn’t used to others meddling in his affairs, and Future Stardom didn’t force the issue.

After all, there had been artists in the entertainment industry who insisted on doing everything themselves—writing, arranging, composing, accompaniment, even post-production. It was exhausting, but the advantage was obvious: there was no need to share the profits with anyone else.

Currently, when Chen Fang composed a song and released it on music platforms, the only ones entitled to a share were Future Stardom and Xi Yuanyuan—his agency and his agent. Everything else went directly into his pocket.

In fact, Future Stardom was operating at a loss with him. They had to help him build his public persona, promote him, arrange his schedule—all of which cost money. Chen Fang’s earnings weren’t significant yet, so the resources invested still outweighed the returns.

“Are you recording ‘Blue and White Porcelain’ today?” Xi Yuanyuan sat down on the sofa, crossing her legs elegantly. The high heels—black with red soles—swung gently, complementing her short business skirt with a particular charm.

It had to be said, Xi Yuanyuan was flawless in every aspect except for her modest bust. Men who were drawn to that “look at me with disdain, big sister” type would be absolutely smitten with her, for she often regarded other men with the same look she reserved for trash—especially Kang Zikai.

Chen Fang cast a glance at her; she immediately sensed it. In the past, she would have uncrossed her legs and shot him that habitual look of disdain. But after her call with You Nianwei, her mind was in turmoil. Not only did she not withdraw her legs, she swung them even more.

Chen Fang thought nothing of it. After all, he was certain that this silly girl had no feelings for him. Every time they met, she wore a perpetual poker face, rarely smiling, and if she did, it was a cold, perfunctory smirk.

She was the archetype of the aloof goddess.

With the equipment now set, Chen Fang headed into the inner recording booth. Yuanyuan said nothing. For some reason, the fact that Chen Fang only glanced her way and then looked away left her feeling oddly deflated and frustrated.

The intro to “Blue and White Porcelain” began to play.

She’d already heard it at home, but listening in the studio was an entirely different experience. The audition stage always had some background noise, but here, the recorded song was flawless, without a single imperfection.

Of course, Chen Fang’s skill was solid. He nailed it on the first take.

After a quick playback and some minor tweaks at the end, the song was finished.

“Let’s go to my office,” Xi Yuanyuan said, standing up.

Without even turning his head, Chen Fang replied, “I still have another song to record.”

Another song? Xi Yuanyuan was momentarily taken aback. Chen Fang hadn’t mentioned “East Wind Breaks” to anyone, so she had no idea.

Her interest was instantly piqued. “You’ve written another new song?”

“Yes. Another in traditional style,” Chen Fang nodded.

She clicked her tongue in amazement, knowing exactly what he was up to: riding the wave of the current traditional style craze sparked by “Blue and White Porcelain” to release a follow-up. The audience’s response would surely be fantastic.

It seemed being Chen Fang’s agent would be a breeze.

When she’d managed Kang Zikai, not only did she have to deal with his constant harassment, she also had to find songwriters for him. The work was exhausting, and to make matters worse, Kang Zikai was always dissatisfied—too proud for the work of less famous composers.

If Future Stardom hadn’t been so short on talented artists—and if Kang Zikai hadn’t placed third in a rap competition—she would have quit long ago.

Now, with Chen Fang, everything was different. He arranged for his own appearances, coordinated with Tong Qin on his own, and she only needed to follow up. When it came to songwriting, he handled everything; she never had to lift a finger.

Being his agent was practically effortless.

She couldn’t help but feel fortunate. Had she not been in a foul mood that day and gone to the café with You Nianwei, she would never have stumbled across Chen Fang singing on the street.

It was all fate.

Suddenly, her gaze toward Chen Fang shifted, taking on a subtle new meaning.

It was all destiny.

Chen Fang, oblivious, had no idea that Xi Yuanyuan was already plotting in her heart. This was not a good sign—he much preferred it when she looked at him like trash. That was the real Xi Yuanyuan.

“What’s the new song called?” she asked, moving closer to him. A faint floral fragrance drifted to his nose.

Chen Fang was surprised. Usually, her perfume was bold and passionate; today, it was a delicate floral scent.

Something’s off, he thought. When they’d entered the company together earlier, he hadn’t noticed any perfume at all. Now, there was a subtle scent—jasmine, perhaps—completely at odds with her vibrant red hair.

Something is definitely wrong with Xi Bao today. Very wrong.

She sensed she was standing too close, but pretended to focus on the mixing console, though the blush climbing her neck betrayed her agitation.

“‘East Wind Breaks,’” Chen Fang replied. “Not quite as good as ‘Blue and White Porcelain,’ but still a fine song.”

He eyed her warily. Could it be… this girl is in heat?