Chapter 118: Cover Star of The Inner Circle Weekly

A rumor has been circulating online that "God Qian" possesses an innate, almost supernatural insight into musical notes. It is said that while he may not have realized it initially, this gift began to reveal itself as he matured. Knowing exactly how to arrange notes to move a listener to tears or to fill them with unbridled joy—these are matters of innate talent.

This type of gift takes many forms; some are gifted with numbers, others possess a profound understanding of science. Ren Qian’s ability to churn out so many popular hits in such a short time is simply the result of this born musical genius. It is a talent the legendary "God of Songs" once possessed, which is why it is whispered that Ren Qian is a man destined to become the next God of Songs. The way he arranges music is said to be a code exclusive to him, one so complex that even scientists cannot fathom it.

In short, it is all spoken of in mystical terms.

To anyone with sense, such claims are clearly absurd. Yet, there are a surprising number of people who believe them—much like the logic behind "eating salt to resist radiation" or the urban legend that "charging your phone will cause it to explode and kill thousands."

Young, aspiring singers are particularly eager to see Ren Qian exercise this "gift." Will he glow with golden light? Will he emit some strange, mystical fragrance?

"Next, Zuo Qi."

"Hello, Teacher Ren Qian. I am a singer signed by Gunshi Entertainment in 2014. The song I will perform is your 'Farewell to Ideals.'"

Zuo Qi, twenty-one years old, stood at 1.78 meters with a model’s build and a bass voice. He cleared his throat and began to hum along to the melody of "Farewell to Ideals."

Ren Qian: "..."

His Cantonese is truly atrocious. Is there really a need to try this hard just to curry favor with me? This kind of narrow-minded, capitalist sycophancy is unacceptable in young people.

Ren Qian waved his hand to stop him.

"You only started practicing this song the day before yesterday. Your enunciation is unclear, and your desire to please is far more evident than your dedication to the music. Out of ten points, I can only give you three. You earned three points, so I will give you a three-point song. When you make music, you must do it to the best of your ability—that is the most basic requirement for any musician!"

He tore off a sheet of paper, scribbled down lyrics and musical notation, and dismissed Zuo Qi.

"Next, Wei Xi."

"Hello, Teacher Ren Qian. My name is Wei Xi, also signed in 2014. I will be singing 'Youth, Youth.' I look forward to your guidance."

Wei Xi walked up, introduced himself, and began to sing.

Hmm? This song is an internet track. Interesting.

After the song ended, Wei Xi was visibly excited. Zuo Qi hadn't even made it through two lines before being kicked out, but he had managed to sing the entire piece! The treatment was completely different.

"You had the audacity to bring an internet song here, which shows you are confident. You handled it well, and more importantly, you have the courage to accept new things. For that spirit and open-mindedness, I give you seven points. The song for you is called 'Youthful Wanderings.' It’s a good track. Here, take the notation and lyrics. You have one minute to prepare. Sing it for me. If you perform well, I might consider writing a few more for you."

"Huh?" Wei Xi was stunned, flattered beyond words. He took the manuscript respectfully with both hands, bowing as he did so.

"There's no need to be afraid of me; I'm only twenty years old," Ren Qian muttered, feeling helpless. He thought he looked approachable, sunny, and handsome—why was everyone so terrified of him?

"Next. Chen Bansheng."

The usual perfunctory self-introduction followed. He sang an ancient-style track, but it was mediocre and lacked any distinct character. His voice lacked recognition, and he showed no signs of a fanatic pursuit of music. Ren Qian casually scribbled down a song and dismissed him.

...

Throughout the morning, Ren Qian wrote music and lyrics for thirteen newcomers. Naturally, the quality varied. He paid close attention to those who showed potential and a genuine love for music, but for those who were just going through the motions, he returned the favor with indifference.

Among them, Wei Xi and Zhang Qie were the ones who truly satisfied him. One had a highly recognizable voice, and the other handled tenor parts well; both were promising sprouts. He decided to focus on cultivating these two. While they might not necessarily become superstars, reaching the first tier would be no problem.

Ren Qian’s star-making ability was that powerful. As it stood, his influence was comparable to that of Jiangnan Satellite TV. It was even easier for him to create a star than it was for the television station. He simply had to write the songs, arrange the music, pen the lyrics, and send them to Jiangnan TV for exposure.

That was his influence.

Looking back, he was once an unknown little singer. Now, he had become a heavyweight in the entertainment industry, with influence that arguably surpassed that of the established superstars. He had leveraged the momentum of Wanfeng, Gunshi, Director Wang, and the platform of Jiangnan TV to reach where he was today.

He remembered the nights spent writing songs, the times he racked his brains to compete against Wanfeng, the struggle of scrambling for recording venues, the doubts he faced, and the days when Weibo influencers and pundits swarmed to smear his name.

Now, few in the entertainment industry dared to offend him. His status and influence were no longer what they once were.

...

Following the conclusion of yesterday's press conference, the most authoritative entertainment magazine in the south, *Guiquan Weekly*, featured Ren Qian on its cover, dedicating a tenth of its space to praising him. This magazine held significant influence domestically, and its coverage was a great help in bringing Ren Qian further into the public eye.

Liu Yi, the man who had managed to win over his goddess thanks to Ren Qian, saw the latest issue at a newsstand. He was the type of person who would never normally pay attention to such things. But when he saw the striking photo of God Qian on the cover—the interplay of brilliant lights behind him and his overwhelming aura—he couldn't help but step closer.

There are many male stars who possess a charm that can make other men question their orientation, but with God Qian, you simply want to stand quietly by his side.

"Old man, how much for this *Guiquan* magazine?"

"Fifty." The old man sipped his tea leisurely, holding up five fingers.

Are you kidding me? Fifty yuan for this thin pamphlet?

"That's too expensive, old man... this book usually goes for twenty at most."

"Take it or leave it. This kid has so many fans, do you think he’s missing one poor guy like you?"

Liu Yi: "..."

Damn, age really brings cunning. Even though the old man had nearly two hundred copies, he was dead set on not offering a discount. A flat price of fifty. It was clear he was looking to fleece the customers—if you were willing to be slaughtered, you bought it; if not, you could get lost. Simple, brutal, and ruthless.

"I'll take it!" Liu Yi gritted his teeth. He decided his goddess was worth more than fifty yuan. He tossed down the money, grabbed a copy, and sprinted home.