Love Variety Show: The despised me exploded in popularity

Chapter 128: Chapter 119: This Affection Can Await Reminiscing_2

People just shouldn't compare themselves, because once you encounter a prodigy-like newcomer, that already shaky line of self-confidence in your heart trembles even more violently.

But the problem is that Xu Qingyan himself didn't think he was that great. Although he had a music and movie library in his mind, he didn't have the slightest bit of pride.

Compared with Pei Muchan and Lin Wanzhou, whether it was in terms of professional abilities or other aspects, he felt somewhat inadequate. These things couldn't be made up for just with money.

There was still a lot to learn, and a long way to go.

The car entered the underground parking lot of a luxurious residential area. Xu Qingyan locked the car and had just handed the keys back to Pei Muchan when he realized something was off about the place.

Looking around, he noticed the cars were either Rolls-Royces or 911s; even Mercedes-Benzes were rare to see.

Was the positioning of this residential area too high-end? This didn't seem like any employee dormitory; he must have thought wrong before. If they opened studios in such places, how could they possibly provide employee accommodation?

While waiting for the elevator, he couldn't help asking.

"I live here?"

"Yeah, what's up?" Pei Muchan turned to look at him, slightly puzzled, and after a moment of hesitation asked, "Don't you like it?"

"It's not that."

With a ding, the elevator arrived.

Pei Muchan stepped into the elevator first, "This place is actually pretty good, the sound insulation is not bad."

Getting into the elevator, he noticed it was a private lift for each apartment, with a small vestibule by the entrance, and a fire exit to the left.

"Sorry to intrude," Xu Qingyan said.

"You're not intruding, I don't live here. I'm used to staying at the place by the river," Pei Muchan said with a smile, "I rarely come here, maybe around ten or so times a year."

"Here are the keys and the elevator card, keep them safe."

He took them, and a moment of madness prompted him to blurt out, "I almost feel like I've been kept."

Her hand hadn't retracted yet, and on hearing this, she gave him a look.

"You're overthinking it."

"Indeed." Xu Qingyan put his hands together in a gesture of gratitude and said, "Thank you for taking me in, Pei. I'm beyond words of thanks. Call on me for anything in the future, and I'll be at your beck and call."

"No need for that, just do your own thing," Pei Muchan normally spoke with a somewhat subdued tone; her long eyes and the way they skimmed over people often conveyed a sense of leaving room for sentiment.

Pei Muchan didn't stay long before she left, and twenty minutes later she came back. She had bought a bunch of toiletries and took away all her personal items from the room.

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Then she hurried off, vanishing into the night.

After taking a shower, Xu Qingyan was drying his hair while looking at the unfinished draft of "What I Miss" and pondering what he needed to do the next day.

He read it over a few times and before going to bed, refreshed the comments for Qing Tian's "Clear Sky" on Penguin Music once more. He found several hundred new comments, and then the number of comments plateaued.

The next day, early at eight.

Pei Muchan came over and brought some breakfast with her.

After freshening up, Xu Qingyan asked while eating, "How are the data looking?"

"Don't know, we'll check back at the studio later." Pei Muchan's complexion wasn't too great as she slowly sipped her oat milk, "Is it because I didn't sing well enough?"

She would rather doubt her own condition than suspect that the song wasn't resonating with the market.

Because yesterday's data showed that the approval rate was incredibly high; almost nobody who had heard "Clear Sky" disliked it. Yet, in the end, the sales were still lukewarm.

"It's okay, the data we have now are quite good," he said reassuringly, quickly finishing the steamed buns and soy milk—the taste was pretty good, though he wasn't sure where it was from.

"I was expecting it to blow up, not be lukewarm," Pei Muchan sighed.

The two were on the same side, and it was clear the quality of the song was high; Pei Muchan was sure to break even. But how much she could earn was hard to say, and correspondingly, if there was no profit, Xu Qingyan wouldn't get a bonus.

On the road, it was still Xu Qingyan driving.

Maybe it was because he didn't know what to say, he simply chose to stay silent, returning to his cool demeanor. The atmosphere in the car grew somewhat silent, with Pei Muchan sitting in the passenger seat, staring outside through the half-open window, lost in thought.

The car stopped at a traffic light intersection, and next to them, a Mazda rolled up with its window half down and music playing.

Listening to the melody, it sounded vaguely familiar, drawing the unconscious gazes of both Xu Qingyan and Pei Muchan. Half of the song "Little Yellow Flower of the Story" had floated out before being cut off by the Mazda's rolling window.

Xu Qingyan and Pei Muchan couldn't help but exchange a look and smiled understandingly at each other.

The Mazda driver felt a bit awkward, thinking that the other party disliked his loud music. Coincidentally, the light turned green, and he stepped on the gas, darting away skillfully.

In that last second before the window closed, the Mazda driver suddenly realized that the man was driving an A8 and there was a beautiful woman, comparable to a female celebrity, sitting in the passenger's seat.

Instantly, a cloud of gloom overshadowed his heart, damn it, this society really sucks! Money really can do whatever it wants, so young, and yet able to drive a luxury car and embrace a beautiful woman.

In contrast, he had struggled his way to middle age, attended the most important schools, joined big companies. Twenty years of diligent work, a wife who didn't love him, children who scorned him.

All his life laid out before him, with parents gone, and home no longer a safe haven. The only moment of relaxation was perhaps spending a bit longer on his phone in the car after work, listening to music.

He used to look forward to holidays, but now weekends and holidays offered no time of his own, as flat as an unruffled lake. Lately, he often dreamt of sitting in a high school classroom.

Looking up at the bright red banner, "Work hard for one year, benefit for a lifetime." He was lost in a sea of books, with rows of heads bowed in sleep ahead, and the ponytail of the girl he liked still looked fresh and lively.

Use youth as a horse, do not waste the prime years.

The once poor boy had made it out of his hometown, and now his youth had passed. He didn't know how much longer he could endure this life, the silhouette of the girl from his dreams growing ever clearer.

Occasionally browsing short videos, he saw a comment, "Are you reminiscing about her because you've been feeling down lately?"

His thoughts drifted away; he had to get to the company by nine for work. Driving had become a passive skill, even if he was occasionally lost in thought, he still followed the car ahead steadily.

The car's music was still playing, something he had bought on a whim the day before without listening. Somehow, the background music he used to pass the time, its melody managed to penetrate from his ears into his heart.

Maybe because the weather was nice today or perhaps the lyrics were truly interesting.

[In that one classroom, how come I...]

He drove on, gazing ahead without focus, inexplicably building upon his own memories as a foundation, sketching out the image of his senior year classroom.

[On that windy day, I tried holding your hand...]

He remembered the timid him from the past, using a class activity as an excuse to touch her hand. The gift he had planned to give her before the college entrance exam was hidden time and again.

He circled the examination hall below, watched her cry with reddened eyes after a poor exam, and never managed to say the well-wishes he wanted to, hiding the gift in the deepest part of the drawer.

In the rainy season of southern college entrance exams, yellow butterflies rested on the playground after the rain. Witnessing his silent, unnoticed youth, neither brave nor wonderful, it merely came to an end without any fuss.

[With much difficulty, another day to love, but at the story's end... goodbye.]

As the song ended, his car, without him realizing it, followed the vehicle ahead and turned onto a road he had never traveled before. He pulled over to the side, his heart pounding, haunted by the thoughts in his head for a long while.

If he had been braver back then, would life be different?

With trembling hands, he fumbled for a pack of cigarettes and lit one with shaky fingers, inhaling deeply. As a hardened smoker, it was the first time the harshness made him cough incessantly, bringing tears to his eyes.

What exactly trapped him? Was it retaking a year, pursuing university, or the vast distance between two cities? Or was it... the countless hesitations in his lifetime?

He found the song and quietly played it over and over. A mess of memories sprang out, including the high school literature teacher who had once solemnly recited, "These feelings will become memories, but at that moment, I was already at a loss."

The gentleness he glimpsed in her eyes back then was something he had never seen, and now he recalled it once more.

In his youth, he swallowed whole the ancient poems without understanding, and scored well in the language exams with quick precision; now, after years, he heard the whooshing sound of the wind through time.

Things he had never even heard before, vaguely piercing his heart.

...

Pei Muchan was just about to go up to her studio on the second floor when she heard a burst of light laughter behind her. She turned around and Xu Qingyan held up his phone screen towards her, saying.

"Come look, I found an interesting long comment, just posted."