"An'ge, it's not that I'm trying to lecture you, but sometimes, giving in a little can save you a lot of trouble. You can’t compete with Yue Wen—she has connections." A middle-aged woman advised the girl sitting on the sofa beside her.
The girl was breathtakingly beautiful—tall and slender at 168 cm, with delicate skin like jade and a pair of enchanting peach blossom eyes that, combined with her round face, evoked a natural desire to protect her.
Her name was Xia An'ge, 23 years old, a third-tier singer who debuted a year and a half ago as the runner-up in a singing competition. With her stunning looks and angelic voice, she quickly gained popurity.
She had the potential to rise to a second-tier singer in no time, but her agency, Starlight Entertainment, only saw her as a pretty face to attract investors. They gradually neglected her singing career, pushing her toward commercial deals instead. Xia An'ge resisted—she refused to attend business dinners or be a mere tool for the company’s profit. This defiance put her at odds with Starlight Entertainment.
The price of defying Starlight was brutal—she was shelved, given no resources, and forced into a gamble: produce an original song within three months or face a penalty—either pay a huge breach-of-contract fee or obediently follow the company’s arrangements.
Despite the middle-aged woman’s persuasion, Xia An'ge’s decision never wavered. Her cold, delicate face showed no emotion, and her usually lively peach blossom eyes dimmed slightly.
"Hua Jie, I just want to sing," she said softly.
Hua Jie sighed. She managed multiple artists, not just Xia An'ge.
"You could’ve been my brightest star, but your stubbornness is holding you back."
Xia An'ge’s beauty was undeniable—she could’ve had a successful acting career. Starlight had offered her acting and variety show opportunities, but she rejected them all.
She only wanted to sing.
But the world was harsh. Capitalists had ways to deal with defiant employees, and Xia An'ge was a prime example.
After Hua Jie left, Xia An'ge remained seated on the sofa, gazing out the floor-to-ceiling window. The neon lights of the city glowed brilliantly, yet she felt completely disconnected from them.
She had grown up in an orphanage in Lin City. The name "An'ge" symbolized a life of peace and joy, given to her by the orphanage director, whom she lovingly called "Mother."
Mother used to say Xia An'ge had the voice of an angel, and she would always sing for her. But in high school, mother passed away, and she never got to hear her sing again.
Still, Xia An'ge believed mother was always listening. That was why she never gave up on singing—she wanted the whole world to hear her voice, hoping that somewhere, mother would, too.
But now, she might lose that dream.
Twenty minutes ter, Hua Jie returned with a contract. The terms remained the same: Xia An'ge had two years to produce her own work, and the company would release it.
But there were only three months left. If she had pyed along, Starlight would have arranged for top music producers to write songs for her. But now, they wouldn’t just refuse to help—they would actively sabotage her efforts to find colborators.
They wanted her to realize that without Starlight, she was nothing.
In three months, she either had to pay the penalty or obey their rules—attend business events and parties as the company dictated.
"You're free to go wherever you want for the next three months. Stay in the company apartment or move out, but when the time is up, you must return and fulfill the contract. Understand?" Hua Jie tried one st time to persuade her. "It’s just a few events. You could even secure investments for yourself."
Xia An'ge quietly listened, then stood up. Dressed in simple jeans and a T-shirt, she looked effortlessly elegant. She murmured a soft "Mm" before walking out of the room—and out of the company.
Three months. If she could create an album, she would only have six months left on her contract. If she failed, they would force her to extend it.
As she stepped out of the Starlight Entertainment building, her phone rang.
"An'ge-jie, are you really leaving?"
It was Ruan Ying, her young assistant, who sounded heartbroken. Xia An'ge had always treated her well, and she couldn't bear to see her go.
Xia An'ge hesitated, then softly replied, "Maybe. I still have three months, don’t I?"
"This is so unfair! You just want to sing! And you’re amazing at it! Why can’t that be enough? And Yue Wen—she stole your song!" Ruan Ying raged.
Originally, Starlight had arranged for a song to be written for Xia An'ge. But when the company’s top-tier artist, Yue Wen, wanted it, they simply handed it over. A third-tier singer like Xia An'ge couldn’t fight back.
Xia An'ge said nothing. The only sound on the line was distant traffic.
"Can you pack my things for me? I’ll come pick them up."
After a brief pause, she finally spoke, her voice as calm as ever—like a beautiful yet fragile vase.
Ruan Ying quickly agreed but then gasped. "An'ge-jie, are you moving out?!"
"Mm. I need peace to write my songs."
She had bought a small apartment in Lin City st year, using her savings. It was in the suburbs—far but cozy. And Lin City was where she grew up.
It was all she had left.
Ruan Ying didn’t understand Xia An'ge’s thoughts, but she silently packed her things.
Her belongings were simple—one suitcase and a guitar. Not as much as one would expect.
By the time Xia An'ge arrived, Ruan Ying had just finished packing. Xia An'ge thanked her, slung the guitar over her back, grabbed the suitcase, and prepared to leave.
"Where will you stay to write?" Ruan Ying asked.
"Just somewhere quiet." Xia An'ge replied, unwilling to reveal her pns.
She booked a train ticket to Lin City. By the time she boarded, it was already 2 AM. The night was cool despite the summer heat. Wearing a mask, she curled up in her seat.
As the train sped away from the bustling metropolis of Haipu City, she left behind everything—fame, betrayal, and uncertainty.
Ahead of her y a small apartment in Lin City.
Perhaps her st bit of soce.
