The room went quiet all of a sudden.

  Xu Nuo set down his cup. For singers and average composers, an 80-20 split was standard—70-30 was rare. Only big names could snag 50% or more.

  He patted Yang Haonan’s shoulder. “Hao Nan just id out the facts, but I’m not here to hold this song hostage for a fortune.”

  Liu Shun’s expression softened a bit, and Lin Wanqing’s face looked less tense.

  “200,000, 55-45 split, but I’ve got two conditions.”

  “Go ahead,” Liu Shun said, feeling a bit stifled. She’d thought negotiating with two fresh grads would be a breeze, but they were tough nuts. If the song weren’t so good, she’d have walked out already.

  “Rex, nothing outrageous,” Xu Nuo said with a light chuckle.

  “You can sing this song, but I might sing it too ter. The original credits need to list us both as original singers.”

  “You’re gonna sing it?” Lin Wanqing’s face twisted oddly.

  “Problem with that?” Xu Nuo frowned. This woman’s mocking me—gonna have to set her straight someday.

  “Nope.”

  “Second, when you promote it, mention my stage name.”

  “That’s fine too.”

  Yang Haonan had gone quiet since Xu Nuo took over, watching him with interest. Not chasing small gains means he’s got big pns, he thought, his eyes flicking between them.

  “Bring the contract,” Xu Nuo said, leaning back in his chair, admiring Lin Wanqing’s fwless face. He liked her style—decisive, straightforward, if a bit cold.

  Sister Liu pulled out a prepared contract and handed it to Yang Haonan first.

  To her, he seemed like Xu Nuo’s makeshift agent.

  Yang Haonan flipped through it without hesitation. “Looks clean.”

  Xu Nuo skimmed it, signed his name, and added his stage name.

  “Nuo Yan?” Yang Haonan raised an eyebrow, then smirked knowingly, his gaze turning sly.

  This guy’s going all-in to flirt—dropping 300,000 and a 10% cut. With this song’s hype, that’s at least a million in profits.

  Yang Haonan suddenly admired him. He doesn’t even gnce at roadside weeds—straight for the brightest bloom.

  With the contract signed, the mood lightened.

  Xu Nuo took a bite of lobster. “Senior, I’ve got a favor to ask.”

  Yang Haonan perked up, his gossip fire bzing. This guy flips titles faster than pages—‘Queen’ one second, ‘Senior’ the next. Slick move.

  But he wouldn’t ask her out now, right? That’d be a guaranteed rejection.

  He checked Lin Wanqing and Liu Shun’s faces—sure enough, a hint of wariness in their eyes.

  “Go on,” Lin Wanqing said.

  “Can you hook me up with Haiyin Entertainment?”

  Xu Nuo’s request caught them off guard, though it made sense in hindsight.

  Lin Wanqing’s rundown was brief; Liu Shun filled in the gaps.

  Ten minutes ter, Xu Nuo had a solid grasp. “I wanna try joining Haiyin Entertainment. Senior, can you put in a word?”

  “The composition department?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No problem, but their standards are high. I can only recommend you.”

  Xu Nuo shrugged. “That’s fine. Just an intro’s enough. After all, I didn’t just write ‘The Wind Rises.’”

  Lin Wanqing’s eyes lit up. “You’ve got more songs?”

  “As a top-notch composer, how could I only have one?” Xu Nuo smirked, striking a pose.

  “Can I hear one?”

  “Oh, Senior needs another song?” Xu Nuo leaned back, shaking his head. “I write based on the vibe. Tell me what you need most—type, style, whatever.”

  Lin Wanqing thought for a sec. “It’s graduation season. I want another youth-themed song to pair with ‘The Wind Rises’—two tracks to hit the charts.”

  As she spoke, Xu Nuo closed his eyes, her words echoing in his head as he spammed the lottery button.

  Time to test what this draw system was really made of.

  Five ten-pulls ter, he’d snagged a pair of white stockings, red stilettos, and a pile of sketchy junk.

  [Congratutions! Host has drawn ‘Those Bygone Years’]

  Seeing him zoned out like he’d dozed off, they were about to speak when Yang Haonan shushed them with a finger to his lips.

  As a self-procimed king of flexing, he knew Xu Nuo was about to show off. What do you do when your bro’s posing? Amp it up, of course.

  Three minutes passed.

  Xu Nuo opened his eyes, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I’ve got a song.”

  His second time ciming originality felt way smoother. First time’s awkward, then it’s a breeze.

  Copying cssics? That’s not pgiarism—just snderous nonsense.

  “What’s it called?” Lin Wanqing dropped her cool facade.

  Watching Xu Nuo “compose” live was more mind-blowing than his ga performance.

  Was there really such a genius? Writing songs as easy as eating or drinking?

  Liu Shun’s eyes flickered with doubt. To her, Xu Nuo had probably pre-written it and was faking the spontaneity for clout.

  Young guys—always showing off, craving the spotlight.

  Yang Haonan thought the same but pyed it off casually. A bro’s flexing habit wasn’t a big deal—he’d back him up in public.

  “Call it ‘Those Bygone Years,’” Xu Nuo said with a soft ugh.

  “Can I hear it?” Lin Wanqing couldn’t resist—song lovers can’t fight that itch.

  “I’ll sing a bit then.” Xu Nuo cleared his throat.

  “If meeting again can’t bring tears to our eyes,

  Can it still flush our faces red?

  Like that hurried year,

  Carving a forever-together,

  Such a beautiful lie…”

  “That’s it?” Lin Wanqing blurted.

  “Yeah.”

  “So short?”

  Xu Nuo’s face darkened.

  Yang Haonan snorted like a pig, and Liu Shun stifled a ugh.

  Lin Wanqing realized her slip, blushed, and turned away.

  “We’re out, Senior. Let me know about the company.” Xu Nuo stood, adding her as a friend before heading out.

  In the room, Liu Shun spoke up. “Xiao Qing, what’d you think?”

  “Even just a few lines, it’s really good.”

  “Hm. What about him as a person?”

  “What’s that got to do with me?” Lin Wanqing frowned, confused.

  Liu Shun smiled. “This kid’s got big ambitions.”

  “How so?”

  Liu Shun sighed at her innocence. “What fresh grad willingly drops 300,000 and a 10% cut without blinking? He’s banking on bigger moves. He’s doing you a favor—building his network.”

  “Second, I thought his friend was just there to haggle, but Xu Nuo can clearly negotiate himself. Looks like he’s testing if that guy’s got what it takes.”

  “So what?” Lin Wanqing still didn’t get it.

  Liu Shun sighed again. “A composer doesn’t need a guy like that around unless he’s got other pns.”

  “Sister Liu, you’re overthinking it. They’re just students—how much scheming could they have?”

  “Just wait and see,” Liu Shun said, dropping it.

  (End of Chapter)