Not Simple?

Gu Zhinan was confused. Wasn’t this just about analyzing a poem, collecting the money, giving a speech, and leaving? What kind of complications could there be?

He shut the door, casually tossed the dark gold invitation onto the bed, and hurriedly tore open the envelope. It was still warm!

A quick count, exactly ten thousand! Damn, so generous! A casual reward of ten thousand!

Gu Zhinan suddenly felt much more energized. His dizziness was gone, his nose was no longer stuffy. Money truly was the ultimate cure-all!

In Lin City, Xia An’ge arrived at the same café once again. Same seat, same waiting game. It has been eight days now. She decided that if no one helped her after three more days, she’d give up.

If no one was willing to lend a hand, she wouldn’t rely on anyone. But this time, at exactly noon, someone she had been waiting for finally walked into the café. A very ordinary looking middle aged man.

Qi Sheng sat down across from Xia An’ge and ordered a cup of coffee before saying helplessly, “Miss Xia, you’re the most patient artist I’ve ever seen. You’re far better than Qu Taoyu. If you weren’t being deliberately targeted, she wouldn’t even stand a chance against you.”

Xia An’ge took off her baseball cap to appear more formal. Qi Sheng glanced at her and smiled before reaching for the music manuscript on the table. He occasionally furrowed his brows as he read. After a while, he looked up and asked, “Can I hear that melody?”

“Of course.” Xia An’ge took out her phone and played the recorded tune from her mind.

Qi Sheng listened carefully, his expression showing a hint of surprise. The melody was beautiful, soft and elegant. If it were turned into a full composition with lyrics, it had the potential to go viral! “Play it again!”

Xia An’ge played it once more. The melody was short, just a few seconds, but Qi Sheng listened to it over and over for more than ten minutes. Then, he frowned and studied Xia An’ge’s music manuscript. It was incomplete and didn’t fully capture the essence of the melody, which was why she had been looking for someone to discuss it with. 

“This melody has a summery feel to it, but your composition leans toward melancholy. Summer should be bright and lively.”

“Yeah, that’s why I wanted to ask for your help. I’ve been trying to make it more upbeat, but none of my attempts have felt quite right,” Xia An’ge explained, pulling out two more manuscripts from her bag and handing them to Qi Sheng.

Qi Sheng took them and examined them carefully. They sat in the café for about an hour and a half. Finally, Qi Sheng stood up, taking the two manuscripts that better represented a sunny summer, and said to Xia An’ge, “Send me the melody later. I’ll see if I can refine it in the next couple of days, then we’ll talk again.”

He was about to leave when Xia An’ge quickly stood up and bowed deeply. “Thank you, Mr. Qi.”

“No need to thank me. I was moved by your persistence and patience. I don’t know how you found out I was here, but we should meet less frequently. Starlight Entertainment won’t allow me to help you.” With that, Qi Sheng walked out of the café. Xia An’ge also left.

The afternoon sun was glaring and hot, but for the first time, she felt its warmth.

If she could release her own original work this time, she would leave Starlight Entertainment once her contract expired after the New Year. But if she failed, she’d be forced into another year of renewal.

She had been so naive and foolish back then, tricked into signing such a slave-like contract.

Meanwhile, in the capital city, Gu Zhinan was chewing on a convenience store-bought sandwich while heading toward the Poetry Association. He hadn’t eaten all morning and had barely endured until now.

With half an hour left before the event, he grabbed his invitation, slung his bag over his shoulder, and hurried over. Once he got his money, he’d take a night flight back to Lin City. Nothing beats sleeping in his own bed!

The Poetry Association’s building, called Shihua Tower, was a grand traditional-style structure. To Gu Zhinan, it looked just like the legendary Yellow Crane Tower described in ancient texts. Why build such a huge classical building in the capital? Other than sheer wealth, he couldn’t think of another reason.

A turn at the corner, and there it was. To his surprise, there was a long queue at the entrance, with security maintaining order.

Why so formal?

As he got closer, he was stunned. Damn, the line snaked left and right, at least two to three hundred people! Holding his dark gold invitation, Gu Zhinan felt oddly out of place until he noticed a smaller side entrance labeled “Invitation Entrance.”

Without hesitation, he dashed over and strolled in, relishing the envious looks from the crowd.

“Hey! Bro!” Just as he stepped inside, someone shouted from behind him. He turned around, puzzled, to see a scruffy-bearded man jogging toward him. When the man reached him, he grinned and said, “I’m here for the poetry event too. Mind if we stick together?”

“Of course!” Gu Zhinan wasn’t the most social person at these events, so having a companion was a relief.

“Nice! I’m Guang Chengshuang, a writer from the Chinese Literature Network.”

“No wonder you feel so familiar! You must be one of the big shot authors from our site. I’m Gu Zhinan, also from Chinese Lit. Net.” Hearing that, Gu Zhinan was instantly excited.

“Haha, I wouldn’t say ‘big shot.’ Just a small-time writer. I shamelessly submitted a poem and somehow made it into the top 15, so I got an invitation. What about you?” Guang Chengshuang looked pleased with the compliment despite his modest words. He was fairly well-known on the site, and one of his works had even briefly topped the rankings.

“Oh… compared to you, I’m not even worth mentioning. Let’s just go in.” Gu Zhinan decided to stay low-key. Just take the money and leave.

Following the signs, the two entered a large hall filled with rows of seats. They found their assigned spots and sat down. As more people entered, Gu Zhinan noticed that the seating was divided into three sections. One section, labeled “ChineseLitNet,” had 50 seats. Another, labeled “PoetryAssoc,” also had 50 seats. The last section, behind the first two, was a massive general seating area with over 300 spots.

Why so many people?

Gu Zhinan was dumbfounded. Wasn’t this just a review session where they analyzed their own poems, flattered each other a bit, then left with their money?

Recalling Cheng Mengxi’s warning earlier, “This poetry event isn’t simple.” He suddenly felt a bad premonition.

Were they planning something unexpected?

After waiting for about 20 minutes, no more attendees entered.

Guang Chengshuang was already chatting it up with nearby writers, while Gu Zhinan, starting to feel groggy again, almost dozed off. The moment he relaxed, his nose got stuffy again.

Then…

“Hello? Testing, testing.” A female voice echoed through the hall’s speakers. Gu Zhinan’s eyes snapped open.

Finally! time to get paid!