Chapter 8: "Shall We Take on the Whole Job?"

“Sis, do you really think this will work this time?”

In the artist dormitory on the eighth floor, a woman with a quiet demeanor and gentle appearance anxiously asked her manager. Despite her delicate features, her face betrayed anxiety and exhaustion.

“Ah…” The manager shook her head. “I’m not sure either. All I can say is, just do your best. This might be your last chance to get B-tier resources.”

A wave of reluctance surged within her. She bit her lip but remained silent.

This woman was Chen Meijing, the artist Wang Yongchang had mentioned as being cursed by fame.

Chen Meijing had well-defined features and graduated from the Central Conservatory of Music with a major in vocal performance. Trained professionally, her foundation was solid—indeed, exceptional.

With such credentials, having works and promotion, the path to stardom should not be arduous.

But reality was often absurdly contrary.

Wanting fame, these advantages helped a little—but not much.

Luck often mattered more.

Some people had powerful backgrounds, abundant resources, extensive connections, excellent conditions, and refined skills.

Yet sometimes, they inexplicably failed.

If one’s bad luck reached a certain level, even the top spenders couldn’t outdo the damned Europeans.

They say opportunity only favors the prepared.

But when luck is too low, there’s rarely a chance.

This was the so-called “curse of fame.”

Chen Meijing’s talent was considerable, but her luck was clearly terrible.

With outstanding vocal skills, her debut song wasn’t a minor hit, at least it started well.

But although her songs met the standard for popularity, she remained completely invisible.

Afterward, it was a series of disappointments, with even her songs failing to catch on.

For the company executives, artists like Chen Meijing were truly troublesome.

They hesitated to give up because her talent was real—definitely an excellent prospect. Her songs weren’t unheard of; though few, she had built a modest fanbase with good loyalty. Theoretically, she should have been promotable.

But no matter how they pushed, nothing came of it. Her songs didn’t become popular, and she remained obscure, relegated to low-end commercial performances, sometimes even having to piggyback on others’ songs.

From a profit standpoint, they ought to reduce resources and let her go.

So, gritting their teeth, they arranged one last chance for Chen Meijing.

Coincidentally, the new music producer was a “peculiar prodigy” from childhood… maybe an unconventional approach could bring unexpected results.

Thus, they paired them up to try.

From the company’s perspective, it wasn’t a loss.

It was also a test of Li Can’s adaptability to the entertainment market.

If even this unlucky woman could be saved, the company’s attitude toward Li Can would then be clear.

“This music producer is a newcomer, but not completely green. Overall… quite talented,” the manager said, trying to describe Li Can in a way to encourage the somewhat disheartened Chen Meijing.

But Chen Meijing seemed numb—like a salted fish lying on a cutting board, slowly dissolving into juice. Reluctant, yet resigned to fate’s harshness.

“Since you have a classical background, have you heard of ‘Fantaisie-Impromptu’ or ‘June Barcarolle’?”

The manager was genuinely kind to Chen Meijing, patiently trying to find topics to inspire her.

“That’s the music producer’s work,” she added.

“What!” Chen Meijing suddenly jolted up, startling the manager.

“This isn’t just talented—it’s overwhelmingly talented!”

As someone classically trained, Chen Meijing naturally knew Li Can’s reputation.

Whether he could make her famous was uncertain.

But the quality was undoubtedly top-notch.

He could definitely provide her with songs of high artistic value and sophistication.

Now, all that remained was to pray that this time, luck would finally turn.

Seeing Chen Meijing regain some spirit, the manager smiled wryly.

Not even she knew if this would work.

...

The next day.

Li Can and Lin Feng had just arrived at the studio when they saw two women waiting outside.

The younger one looked restless and extremely nervous.

“Oi, early birds,” Li Can said as they approached the door to unlock it.

Chen Meijing’s anxiety, having built up overnight, made her movements awkward and tense.

Her unease starkly contrasted with Li Can’s relaxed demeanor.

“Have you eaten?”

“Um... no…”

“Eat something first.”

She blankly accepted the steamed bun Li Can handed her, then followed them inside.

“I’ll set up the equipment first. Eat slowly, then adjust your mindset. We’ll start with sound checks.”

Soon, the sound check began.

The process went smoothly.

But after it ended, Li Can grew noticeably silent.

He had reviewed Chen Meijing’s profile the previous day.

At that time, it hadn’t struck him as particularly strange.

Now, looking again—

Gasp!

Kato Megumi, why are you singing soprano?!

Her charm rivaled that of the headline-grabbing punk rockers!

...

“This doesn’t make sense…” Li Can and Lin Feng exchanged baffled looks.

They both scratched their heads in unison, utterly perplexed.

“Puzzling.”

Chen Meijing’s talent wasn’t just strong—it was extraordinary.

Her vocal range was astonishingly broad!

She possessed the agility of a coloratura soprano, the delicacy of a lyric soprano, the dramatic power of a spinto soprano, the fresh smoothness of a pop singer’s voice, and the penetrating richness of a folk vocalist—all perfectly on point.

Her technique was worthy of a Central Conservatory graduate.

She was almost a versatile singer, able to adapt to any song.

Yet she was a flop, impossible to promote.

How strange.

After a brief moment of confusion, Li Can furrowed his brow and called out mentally.

“Xiao Ai.”

“I’m here!”

“Analyze the current situation with this person. Why can’t she get popular? It’s very strange.”

“Big data system is analyzing and compiling…”

Li Can was dumbfounded.

Xiao Ai’s reply was succinct, blunt, and hit the core.

“Too many labels dilute recognition, and no work.”

“...”

Li Can suddenly understood and covered his face.

Xiao Ai’s reminder made everything clear.

Chen Meijing was extremely talented but lacked a defining edge—she wasn’t outstanding enough to dominate the world.

Her vocal style was too broad, too adaptable, causing her musical identity to be inconsistent, and her voice lacked distinctive recognition or memorable features.

She was indeed quite pretty—could be called beautiful.

But whether in middle school or high school, she was the campus belle; by college, her appeal weakened, especially in the entertainment industry, where beauties abounded.

Moreover, in the entertainment world, no work meant death.

To become famous, one needed a label. The flatter the image and simpler the persona, the faster one rose.

“I think I roughly understand your problem. Now, you have two options,” Li Can said thoughtfully, wanting to leave the choice to Chen Meijing.

“Either go for a bold, unusual hit that makes the audience remember you forever, or stick to conventional collaborations where I’ll try to fully showcase your abilities!”

“Or… you could do both! But that comes at a different price.”