Trapped in the Same Day for a Thousand Years

Chapter 168: He’s Taking a Shower!

by cnwebnovels

There was something badly wrong with Song Xuan’s eyes.

It frightened Wang Xiaomei.

She could not understand why Song Xuan, always gentle by nature, would look like that. There was an almost obsessive intensity in her gaze, and with it extreme regret, extreme disbelief, and frustration.

“What’s wrong, Xuanxuan?” Wang Xiaomei asked softly again.

“N—nothing… it’s nothing…”

Song Xuan seemed to come back to herself. She turned slowly toward the screen again.

Then she asked, “Xiaomei, yesterday—when did you first notice ‘Antidote for the Soul’? What time exactly? How did you find it?”

Her tone was restrained, as though she were holding something down.

“Before bed,” Wang Xiaomei said after a moment’s thought. “A little after ten, I think. I saw it on the charts. There was a ‘rapidly rising’ tag next to the title, so I clicked and listened. That song is seriously incredible. I remember it was still way down the rankings last night, and today it’s already number one on the weekly chart. I think only theme songs from hugely popular dramas have ever climbed that fast.”

Song Xuan looked at the chart and said nothing.

Her heart would not settle.

“Aren’t you going to listen to it, Xuanxuan?” Wang Xiaomei asked.

“I already did,” Song Xuan said.

She had listened to it moments ago.

At first she had suspected it was only another song with the same title, one she had somehow missed before. If it really were the “Antidote for the Soul” that Senior Wu Chen had written, that was impossible.

But when she listened—

It was the same song. Lyrics and melody, all of it. Only the vocal phrasing had been adjusted slightly to suit a male voice.

Song Xuan could even tell that the person singing it—

Was Wu Chen.

The artist name Morning Mist was another clue. In Chinese, Chenwu was simply the two syllables of Wu Chen’s name turned around.

She had checked the release time as well.

Six o’clock yesterday evening.

Only a few hours after the two of them parted.

Less than a day since it went up, and “Antidote for the Soul” had already shot to number one on the new-song weekly chart.

Its raw numbers still could not match songs that had been out for weeks or months.

But it was easy to see that given a little time its numbers would keep exploding. It would charge onto the monthly chart. It might even reach the annual overall chart and become one of the phenomenon-level songs of 2020.

It was going to explode in popularity, and fast.

“I’ve seen a lot of musicians recommending it, too,” Wang Xiaomei said beside her. “They say it’s really sophisticated—not one of those throwaway pop songs.”

Song Xuan clicked the mouse.

She opened the comment section on the page for “Antidote for the Soul.”

More than four thousand comments already. Almost all of them were praise. The handful of people suggesting the numbers had been artificially inflated were being savaged by everyone else. A few musicians’ accounts had appeared as well, posting long analyses of the techniques the song used. They might have been riding the trend for attention, but their presence proved one thing.

The song had genuinely gone viral.

At most another day or two, and “Antidote for the Soul” would be everywhere on the internet.

Snap!

Song Xuan closed the laptop.

She shut her eyes and drew a deep breath, then another. She needed to calm herself down.

Holding her coffee, Wang Xiaomei watched her with plain worry, and said carefully, “Xuanxuan, don’t be like this. You’re kind of scaring me. Aren’t you Miss Song, the girl who never admits defeat? You said it yourself—no matter how many setbacks you go through, you’ll keep going until everyone loves your music.”

“Xiaomei, let me ask you something.”

Song Xuan spoke suddenly, her eyes still closed.

“What?”

“If I sang ‘Antidote for the Soul’—do you think it would be a hit?”

“Of course!” Wang Xiaomei said. Then she thought about it. “Actually, I think the song suits a woman’s voice even better. That opera-style passage in the middle especially. It would probably have even more feeling sung by a woman.”

Song Xuan opened her eyes.

And at once her expression looked wrong again.

Wang Xiaomei turned to look, and seemed to understand something all in a rush.

“Xuanxuan, you’re not jealous, are you? Don’t be! You’re an heiress with more money than you could spend in several lifetimes. Don’t go competing with some online singer. So many people would die of envy if they had what you have. We sing and stream and run studios to make money, to put food on the table. But you—this is something you love.”

The words were blunt, but Wang Xiaomei meant well.

She truly did envy Song Xuan. She understood perfectly that if Song Xuan had not loved music, someone like her would never in her whole life have had any chance of a connection with a young heiress.

But Wang Xiaomei had no idea what Song Xuan was actually thinking.

Jealous?

Song Xuan was regretting it.

Regretting it terribly.

“I’m going to make a call.”

She stood and walked out.

In the corridor outside the studio, she took out her phone and scrolled back through yesterday’s call log until she found Wu Chen’s number.

She had not even bothered to save it yesterday.

She saved it now, then called.

“Ahem.”

Song Xuan cleared her throat, pacing back and forth with the phone in hand, and drew another deep breath.

Ring…

More than ten seconds.

Nobody answered.

…

Honor · Donghai Mansion.

In the villa’s first-floor living room, a group of men in suits were still going over everything with meticulous care.

Li Ruotai sat on the sofa, expressionless.

His whole mood was wrong.

He was furious.

Brother-in-law Wu Chen had not been hurt today, but Li Ruotai had seen the state his sister was in. He had seen her face on the way back.

He felt as though someone had slapped him hard across the face.

As though Ding Ruilong had personally delivered the blow.

Donghai was Li Ruotai’s territory.

And Ding Ruilong had not merely reached a hand into it. He had gone so far as to try to kill a man outright, recklessly, with no regard for the consequences.

In that moment Li Ruotai truly believed Ding Ruilong deserved to die.

Second floor of the villa. The master bedroom.

Li Ruobing stood at the window, her face cold, looking out. She had not moved for a long time.

The door to the en suite bathroom was shut, and the sound of running water came from behind it.

Wu Chen was in the shower.

Ring, ring…

A phone rang suddenly.

Not Li Ruobing’s.

Wu Chen’s.

Every piece of clothing he had been wearing earlier had been taken away on Li Ruobing’s order and would be disposed of. But his belt, wallet, phone, keys, and the rest had naturally been removed first, wiped clean, and set aside.

They lay at the foot of the bed. Beside them lay the fresh suit and shirt and everything else he would put on after his shower.

Li Ruobing turned from the window and looked toward the foot of the bed.

His phone was ringing.

She glanced at the bathroom door and did not move.

She did not touch his phone. She had no habit of handling other people’s phones.

The ringing went on for some while before it finally stopped.

But a few seconds later it started again.

Whoever it was had called, gotten no answer, and immediately called back.

Li Ruobing had no choice but to walk to the foot of the bed and pick the phone up.

She glanced at the screen.

An unfamiliar number.

Phone in hand, she started toward the bathroom door to tell him.

But at the door, just as she was about to speak, she stopped.

She looked again at the unsaved, unlabeled number on the screen.

It suddenly seemed familiar.

Li Ruobing had an excellent memory.

She was certain she had seen this number before. She could not possibly have kept every digit, but the whole string looked familiar at a glance.

She thought carefully.

And then she remembered.

Yesterday at noon.

While she was giving him a massage, he had entered this number and not called at once, holding the phone while he talked to her.

She had glanced at it several times then. That was why it stayed with her.

This number.

Student Song.

Song Xuan.

Li Ruobing pressed her lips together.

Phone in hand, she walked briskly back to the window. She stopped, looked at the screen, thought a moment longer, then answered.

She raised the phone to her ear and said nothing at first.

She waited for the caller to speak.

“Hello! Senior Wu? Do you remember me? It’s Song Xuan. Senior, do you have time? Let’s meet somewhere—”

The voice was soft and sweet, with a note of urgency and warmth in it, almost as though Song Xuan were eagerly pressing close to make friends.

Li Ruobing came very near to rolling her eyes.

Then she answered flatly.

“He’s taking a shower!”