Chapter 420: I’m Not Singling Anyone Out—I’m Saying Everyone Here Is Trash!

Chapter 420: I’m Not Singling Anyone Out—I’m Saying Everyone Here Is Trash!

Yu Xiaohu came farther into the office as he spoke, his brows knit. He plainly didn’t believe Su Lei had leaked the audio.

Normally, an accomplished producer like Yu Xiaohu would hardly pay much attention to a lower- or mid-level employee like Su Lei. Coming all the way to the boss’s office to ask about him was even more unlikely.

But there was a small connection between them.

Not a deep one.

Only that… as far as Wu Chen knew, Su Lei had been promoted to deputy department head because Yu Xiaohu had put in a word for him.

For a vice president, promoting a minor manager in a department below him, and only to a deputy post at that, took nothing more than a word.

He hadn’t done it for any personal gain, either. He had simply seen Su Lei’s ability and taken to him the way a mentor takes to promising talent.

At the work itself, Su Lei truly was outstanding. He was steady and diligent, said little and did a great deal. He wasn’t much of a socializer, but that suited Yu Xiaohu just fine.

He had even meant to watch Su Lei a few more years, then, once Su Lei had enough experience, bring him over to train him personally and steer him toward becoming a music producer.

Something like taking on a disciple.

Like Su Lei, Yu Xiaohu was far from good-looking, and he had gone through much the same thing in his own life. That might have been part of why he had a soft spot for him.

These days, people without looks had a hard time making it out front. They could only work behind the scenes, and becoming a “music producer” was about as far as that path went.

“He’s already confessed,” An Menglan told him. “I’ve had someone call the police. By now…” She checked her watch. “They should be here any minute.”

“He confessed?” Yu Xiaohu still couldn’t quite believe it. “You found evidence?”

He could imagine that without evidence, no one would ever admit to something like this. Leaking audio and causing massive financial losses could ruin a man’s life.

He had been in the rehearsal room directing the band and had only just heard. He’d even gone downstairs once to find Su Lei and ask what was going on, but hadn’t been able to.

Su Lei was already locked in a separate room under guard by An Menglan’s bodyguards. No one was allowed to see him until the police arrived.

So Yu Xiaohu still didn’t know the details. He hadn’t asked the other executives, either. He had come straight to An Menglan.

“There’s evidence. It’s on Su Lei’s computer…” She paused mid-sentence and glanced at Wu Chen.

He was still typing. He hadn’t stopped once.

Her keyboard was a quiet membrane model, so it didn’t get in the way of people talking nearby. But people talking beside him would certainly get in his way.

“Teacher Xiaohu, let’s talk outside.” She gestured, then came around the desk and headed for the door.

Yu Xiaohu’s expression shifted again.

He could tell why she wanted to talk outside.

She was actually leaving her own office so as not to disturb “Morning Mist” while he typed? Rather than asking him to stop, or anything else? Was that much consideration really necessary?

He had no idea what the man was writing. But whatever it was, surely the office’s owner didn’t need to step out just to avoid disturbing him?

Who on earth was this Morning Mist?!

An Menglan had reached him. Yu Xiaohu said nothing more and followed her out, setting his doubts aside for now and turning his mind back to Su Lei.

The two of them went to talk in the corridor.

Wu Chen remained entirely unaffected, his fingers flying over the keys. He was still writing lyrics. This song had twice as many as an ordinary one.

A few minutes, and the lyrics were done.

Then he started on the music…

The song was highly complex. The melody shifted constantly and called for many instruments, so there was a great deal more to write out.

But he typed fast, and this too was a song he had already created during the thousand-year loop. Getting it all down wouldn’t take long.

Less than ten minutes later.

Done!

He did a little more, clicked a few times, connected to the printer linked to her computer, and started printing.

Some of it had to be printed for the band.

He printed more than a dozen copies.

With everything ready, he stood, collected the pages, pulled open a drawer, took out a stapler, and quickly stapled them into a dozen-odd sets.

Zhuang Xiaodie, on the sofa with her phone, had been glancing over at him now and then. When she saw him stapling, she got up and came to the desk to see if he needed help.

He didn’t.

Once the sets were done, he picked them up and headed for the door, signaling her to come along.

There was no special reason. Nothing at Menghua Music needed her help, but this way she could meet more of the people here.

They walked out.

“Mr. Wu, can I take a look?” Zhuang Xiaodie asked softly, with a sweet smile.

“Sure. Go ahead.” He smiled and handed her a copy.

He had printed everything together. The score and lyrics weren’t separated, and the full instrumental accompaniment was included.

Zhuang Xiaodie couldn’t make sense of most of it. She knew nothing about music theory. But she could still read the lyrics.

A few glances in, her expression changed.

Out in the corridor.

Yu Xiaohu had already heard the whole story from An Menglan. In fact, she had finished explaining several minutes earlier. He had cursed Su Lei a few times in his anger and said he must have been blind.

He was a straightforward, emotional man. When he was angry, he swore.

Once they were done with Su Lei, An Menglan had asked him how the band’s rehearsals were coming along and how preparations for the album’s official release stood.

One thing was worth noting: Yu Xiaohu was going to produce An Menglan’s new album.

Creak!

The office door opened.

Wu Chen came out, followed by Zhuang Xiaodie, reading as she walked.

An Menglan and Yu Xiaohu broke off and turned together.

“Finished?” An Menglan asked. She wasn’t the least bit surprised at his speed. Even as she asked, she took a couple of steps toward him.

“Finished.” Wu Chen smiled and gestured ahead. “The band’s in the rehearsal room, right? Let’s head there first.”

She nodded.

Falling in beside him, she looked at what he was carrying, and he handed her a copy too.

She took it and began to read.

Just like Zhuang Xiaodie, a few lines into the lyrics, her expression changed.

Yu Xiaohu walked on her other side. He had come from the rehearsal room in the first place, and since Morning Mist and An Menglan were headed there, it was on his way. Naturally he went with them.

An Menglan’s face grew stranger and stranger.

Yu Xiaohu noticed. He was already back to wondering what sort of background this Morning Mist had, to be on such easy terms with her. Seeing her expression, he tilted his head and glanced at the pages.

He could tell at a glance it was the original manuscript of a song, a printed copy.

He looked a little longer.

His expression changed too.

He couldn’t help glancing up at Wu Chen. Zhuang Xiaodie and An Menglan were both reading as they walked, and Wu Chen still held a thick stack of copies. So Yu Xiaohu said, “Mr. Morning Mist, might I have a copy as well?”

They had spoken before and even shaken hands, when Wu Chen first arrived downstairs.

“No problem.” Wu Chen smiled at him and handed him one.

There was no need to keep it from anyone. He meant to produce the song right away and release it tonight.

“Thank you.” Yu Xiaohu took it politely and began to read.

He read very fast, because he was only reading the lyrics. The lyrics were what had changed his expression in the first place. The same went for Zhuang Xiaodie and An Menglan.

Two pages in, he reached the dense block of lyrics in the chorus, and his face went dark.

It kept getting darker.

From the lyrics alone, this song called “Genius Superstar” left Yu Xiaohu with one overwhelming impression.

It was arrogant!

Arrogant to the very limit!

From start to finish, it did nothing but sing its own praises and tear into everyone else.

By the later sections, Yu Xiaohu was getting angry.

The lyrics didn’t name him. They didn’t name anyone. But they were “attacking” every music creator in the Chinese-language music world. They were attacking the state of the whole Chinese-language music industry.

More than a thousand characters of lyrics, and all of it could be boiled down to a single sentence aimed at the entire Chinese-language music scene:

I’m not singling anyone out. I’m saying everyone here is trash!

By the time he reached the end, Yu Xiaohu was so angry he nearly tore the pages in half.

“Mr. Morning Mist!” He jerked his head up and glared at Wu Chen. “You wrote this song?”