Chapter Thirteen: Didn’t You Forgive Me? Why Are You Still Chasing Me Down to Berate Me?

“You mean, a writer of entertainment novels wrote this song ‘Heart Wall’ five days ago...” Guo Yao’s eyes were filled with doubt.

Such an outrageous claim was hard for her to believe, but seeing her husband’s stunned expression, her intuition told her something unusual was going on.

She knew her husband best. Although he was usually carefree and casual, he rarely lied to her. This dazed look was genuine bewilderment.

“Yes, even the lyrics match,” Cheng Haipeng finally recalled and opened the novel app to show his wife. The chapter’s publication date was indeed five days ago...

The author had actually written a song that would appear in the future?

Just thinking about it made Cheng Haipeng feel strangely unsettled. It was too absurd.

Most plagiarism in novels copied past works, but this guy was copying the future. He couldn’t possibly be a prophet, so there had to be some special channel involved.

“Could it be…” Guo Yao noticed the chapter’s release date and muttered to herself, “Is it possible that this book was written by Yu Wei?”

Who else would know about a work before the song’s release besides the creator?

“No way,” Cheng Haipeng flipped through a few pages. “Why would a star write novels? And update them daily? That’s just boring.”

“That makes sense,” Guo Yao quickly dismissed the idea. She didn’t like reading novels, but from what her husband said, these flop books hardly made any money.

They were famous enough to not need to write novels.

Even if this star had a passion for writing since childhood, why would he choose to write about entertainment? A professional wouldn’t waste time on that.

“Maybe it’s Yu Wei’s assistant or someone on his team,” Cheng Haipeng nodded. Those people were more believable than the star himself, though still unlikely to write entertainment novels.

He posted a few reviews in the reader community, hoping to discuss it with others, but after two hours no one responded.

The readership had basically vanished...

There were only twenty or thirty readers in total. Entertainment novel fans wouldn’t be interested in boy bands; they probably hadn’t even heard the song.

He himself only heard it by chance through his wife, and though he was the first to notice, there was no one to talk to about it.

The thought made Cheng Haipeng feel a bit lonely.

If only there were more readers.

...

“Don’t you guys have a script for your show?”

Wei Yu didn’t believe it. Although talent shows weren’t as obviously scripted as reality shows, for the sake of entertainment they definitely had some design.

“We don’t do that,” said the head director, Ren Wei, waving off the comment as if it were a joke. Her calm demeanor made it seem like “Sound of Dreams” really had no script...

In reality, their show had plenty of scripts, and many contestants’ backstories were somewhat adapted.

But would Wei Yu know about this?

This guy feared nothing; he had offended many people at the awards ceremony a few days ago and was ruthless in his scoring. Anyone who came would get slapped down.

If he found out about the scripts, who knew what scores he’d give the show?

Yu Wei returned home late after finishing his contract but forced himself to write another half chapter, barely starting the second variety show script.

Burning the midnight oil used to be his routine; this level of effort was manageable...

Variety show plots were Yu Wei’s specialty in entertainment writing, after all, his debut novel started with a variety show and had decent numbers.

He had almost convinced himself he was born for this, but the dismal ending of his second book quickly brought him back to reality.

Before entering this field, great writers seemed like frogs gazing at the moon; after entering, they were like mayflies under the vast sky.

“When will I become a top-tier author?”

Yu Wei glanced at his followers and found only four... single-digit followers. He probably couldn’t even get recommended.

No wonder—he had driven readers away.

He wondered if anyone had heard the song. Such boy band performances had small audiences.

In the novel, the protagonist’s song instantly went viral online and topped trending charts, but in reality, even the best music struggled without promotion.

No matter how good a song was, if no one heard it, it couldn’t become popular.

Ruiko1’s farewell concert was a niche program; most viewers were core fans who came with their own fan identities.

They were all focused on their own idols, not discussing Yu Wei.

Fortunately, the company pushed hard, using official accounts to share the “Heart Wall” performance video, letting more people hear the song...

As long as there were listeners, the song’s popularity was only a matter of time. “Heart Wall” wasn’t a masterpiece, but it was still better than much of today’s pop music.

Thanks to this song, the disbandment of Ruiko1 didn’t get much discussion. Yu Wei finally got a taste of the boy band world.

Though it was a farewell and final meal.

“What a soulful song, feels like a dream back to ten years ago. Is this really written by Yu Wei?”

“Not sure, such a top-tier song probably wasn’t made just to promote a rookie. Must be his original.”

“So handsome and writes songs too, how did he never become famous?”

Yu Wei liked hearing that.

He nodded modestly at compliments on the song—after all, he didn’t write it—but praise for his looks truly made him happy.

Yu Wei instinctively opened the author’s dashboard and found three new comments.

“Boundless prospects, somewhat familiar...”

This reader had scolded him repeatedly, posting three or four messages at a time. Even through the internet, Yu Wei sensed the anger between the lines.

Clearly, a reader driven mad by a lousy author.

“This author must be a prophet, I heard ‘Heart Wall.’”

This comment was posted after the performance.

So someone had heard the song after all, just as Yu Wei expected. He knew readers would forgive him once they heard it...

An hour later, the same reader asked,

“Why is no one here? No one reads this book?”

Indeed.

Yu Wei was helpless. He wanted more readers, but there was no way.

New books’ recommendation rankings depended on data. The better the data, the higher the placement; poor data meant being buried.

Yu Wei’s book had seen a surge from group friends’ support but then large numbers of readers removed it from their shelves. The AI probably had it blacklisted...

The reader’s third comment was posted ten minutes ago.

“Where’s the idiot author? Show yourself.”

Not a friend. Shouldn’t they forgive him after hearing the song? Why keep cursing?

It was different from what Yu Wei expected.

As he pondered whether to reply, his phone conveniently popped up a new friend request: “I am An Shilei.”

That ID was even more memorable—an absolute masterpiece of the Shi family...

“Damn, unboxing?”

Yu Wei hadn’t expected this. After the performance, the first to reach out were the two haters he remembered most.

One was the most scathing critic, hitting hard with every word; the other was the most persistent, relentlessly attacking.

Seemed like a warning.

At that moment, An Shilei sent another friend request, changing the verification message to:

“Open up, sending blades.”