Chapter Thirty-Seven: Buttocks

The forecast had predicted a typhoon, but fortunately, the winds were not too severe upon landing.

It felt like a light breeze accompanied by a fine drizzle.

However, inside the terminal and the arrival hall, almost everyone was hurrying along. A quick glance revealed that, surprisingly, there were no paparazzi lurking about.

Then, he saw Chen Shuhua.

She had kept her promise and worn a pair of tight jeans, but she had chosen an oversized hoodie to pair with them. It hung low, just covering the base of her hips—it actually looked quite stylish.

Truth be told, having spent half a year wandering in the industry, Lin Jianlu had seen no shortage of beautiful women. Yet, in terms of personal style—at least among those he had encountered—none surpassed Chen Shuhua and Joey Wong. They were not only blessed with high-tier beauty and figures, but their sense of fashion was also absolutely top-notch.

Faye Wong was slightly a step behind, mainly because she liked to mix and match erratically, trying to play with personality, which occasionally caused her to lose that universal appeal.

Relatively speaking, Brigitte Lin had the poorest fashion sense.

She seemed to have figured life out and was no longer as strict with her figure. According to Sylvia Chang, in the past, she really was someone with a tiny waist and a weight of ninety jin. Now, she had put on a bit of weight, and her style of dress had become overly casual—sometimes extremely relaxed and carefree, other times suddenly flamboyant with deep V-necks and backless designs.

In short, she seemed to be saying: "I’m old, I don't care about my face anymore. Look how you want, say what you want!"

Having lived a beautiful first half of life, shouldn't she be allowed to live the second half with a bit more spontaneity?

Chen Shuhua, on the other hand, clearly hadn't reached that level of relaxation yet; in casual conversation, she still spent a lot of time discussing weight loss.

As he approached, he glanced at her up and down, then suddenly circled around her to get a better look. Chen Shuhua froze for a second, then immediately turned her body to prevent Lin Jianlu from staring, her face flushing slightly. "You’re so lecherous!"

She already knew what Lin Jianlu wanted to see. She had previously been very puzzled as to why he insisted she wear these tight jeans. Later, she called a veteran in the industry she considered the most capable among her friends, Jonathan Lee. Upon hearing the story, Jonathan Lee burst into laughter and immediately told her, "He wants to look at your butt!"

After the shock came the sudden realization.

After the realization came the mixed feelings of amusement and helplessness.

She never expected that there would be someone in this world who would communicate their desire to look at her behind so straightforwardly.

Yet, he looked with such openness. If you refused him and called him lecherous, he would just shrug, looking completely earnest. "Look, I go to a garden, and the flowers there are in full bloom. I take a walk on the road, and the moonlight falls, soft as snow and misty as fog. I see a beauty with exquisite features and a graceful figure... I want to look, I love to look—is there anything wrong with that?"

For a moment, Chen Shuhua was left speechless.

He shrugged again. "If I didn't even appreciate these things, wouldn't I be lacking in romantic sensibility?"

Chen Shuhua pursed her lips. A moment later, she suddenly tucked the hem of her hoodie up, pinching it at her slender waist. Standing a meter away, she suddenly spun around in place, slowly and steadily, as if deliberately leaving enough time for that man who so appreciated beauty to get a clear look.

Once the turn was finished, she looked up at Lin Jianlu with her chin tilted.

Her face was slightly flushed, her expression defiant and charming.

Lin Jianlu gave her a thumbs up. "Beautiful!"

...

She had driven herself there. Old Duan had definitely intended to send a company car to pick him up and have her follow along, but for some reason, she was suddenly reluctant to let a certain driver see her in an outfit she usually thought nothing of. So, she feigned enthusiasm and volunteered, saying she would go pick him up herself.

Fortunately, her driving skills seemed passable.

Just as they left the airport, Lin Jianlu received a call from Su Huilun. Her tone was mischievous, playful, and triumphant. "Handsome, guess where I am?" Lin Jianlu’s brain processed this in the blink of an eye; he knew exactly what she was up to, so he replied, "Then do you want to guess where I am?"

On the other end of the line, Su Huilun paused for two seconds before suddenly shrieking, "You’ve got to be kidding me!"

"I heard you were out flirting all over Hong Kong... I flew over here despite the typhoon!"

"I’m not the one flying into the typhoon? ...Wait, you’re following the typhoon? That saves more fuel than me!"

"Does saving fuel have anything to do with me, big brother!"

She yelled so loudly that Chen Shuhua, sitting beside him, couldn't help but burst into laughter.

...

As they drove through the city, the wind and rain gradually intensified. Fortunately, they managed to pull into the underground garage of the hotel just before the torrential downpour began.

A room had been booked. After checking in, Chen Shuhua hesitated for only a moment before deciding to accompany him upstairs.

Clearly, she wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.

Even if she wanted to, Lin Jianlu would have insisted on stopping her—the storm was genuinely severe. Lin Jianlu had spent his previous life living in the north, and this was his first time witnessing the power of a typhoon firsthand.

Chen Shuhua remarked that this was just the outer edge of the typhoon, and it was still a long way from making an official landfall.

He boiled some water and made two cups of instant coffee. Holding the mugs, they watched the wind and rain howling outside the window, which looked like the end of the world. Lin Jianlu remained silent for a long time—he looked out the window, and Chen Shuhua looked at him.

The storm was dark and gloomy.

It wasn't until a long time had passed, and he had grown tired of watching, that Lin Jianlu turned back and set his coffee cup down. "Damn, that’s intense!"

He then suddenly walked over, opened his suitcase, took out a dozen sheets of staff paper, and handed them to her.

Songs prepared for her—he was joking, of course. Seeing her in those jeans was nice, but if he couldn't, so be it. The collaboration had to be done; he had promised. He had already prepared everything back in the capital.

It was just that... her figure really was beautiful.

He had thought so last time, but this time, he thought it was even better.

Seeing the manuscript handed to him, she snapped back to reality, her face full of pleasant surprise.

He had prepared three songs: "Noisy," "So Many People in This World," and "Summer Wind."

Only "Summer Wind" belonged to the R&B style she wanted most, but "Noisy" and "So Many People in This World" were the kind of slow-tempo songs she would definitely feel an immediate connection to.

He had thought carefully about her issues.

Or rather, he had carefully considered and deduced the general path of the Chinese music scene for the next few years.

It was clear that regardless of how talented Luo Dayou and Jonathan Lee were at their peak, or how many classics they produced, they—and the folk and slow songs they excelled at—were gradually fading.

Works like "Story of Time" and "Rolling Red Dust," after influencing an entire generation, were beginning to be abandoned by picky, novelty-seeking fans calling for a new trend.

The next era wouldn't be purely R&B, but R&B’s rise would be so brilliant and dazzling, its peak so high, that it would seem as if one man had dominated that entire period. But in reality, that wasn't the case.

In fact, the coming era would be a time of fierce competition from all sides.

So, how had he become popular?

Good works, good singing, and a good face were obviously indispensable conditions. But at the same time, one couldn't ignore that fresh beats, a new sense of rhythm, and new ways of arranging music brought a sense of fashion and trendiness that was almost entirely different from that of Luo Dayou and Lee.

Thus, it brought a kind of freshness and excitement to the fans of that time.

It was completely different from the previous generation.

Anything refreshing would naturally be loved.

Even if he hadn't existed, this would have been a reality that gradually unfolded over the next few years.

Luo Dayou seemed to have realized that his era was coming to an end; he had been dejected lately. Jonathan Lee hadn't felt it yet; he still had great ambition in his chest. His songwriting was a bit "smaller" than Luo Dayou's—lacking such strong national, epochal, and social themes—and his style was more focused on love songs, with more fashionable production. Therefore, he was still at his peak—their perceptions were both correct.

This was never going to be an overnight affair.

It was a slow update—likely until that man’s debut and the sudden arrival of the internet age, when a flood of cheaply made but youth-oriented and youth-pleasing internet songs accelerated this grand update.

The new era arrived all of a sudden.

Chen Shuhua wanted to transform, which was fine, but her last album had flopped. It was meticulously produced, yet it failed miserably—her R&B wasn't mature, and the market wasn't there yet. She had been too hasty, moving too quickly.

Otherwise, look at it this way: even "Flower Field Mistake" and "Xiaoxiang Rain," featured on the diamond-level album *Cold to the End*, were only moderately popular.

So, let’s help her make an EP to test the waters.

Slow down, give her some new rhythms, but keep the melodies in the style she was most familiar with and best suited for. First, ensure the sales of this mini-album, and then use "Summer Wind" to let the fans adapt.

Once they get a taste for it, the next album can offer more.

...

Outside, dark clouds pressed down on the city.

The violent winds were destructive, and the rain poured down like a waterfall.

The wind and rain battered the hotel’s glass windows, producing a tremendous sound.

Yet, because of this, once the curtains were drawn, the room felt unexpectedly quiet and comfortable.

After Chen Shuhua finished reading the manuscript, Lin Jianlu patiently analyzed the problems with her previous musical style and shared his thoughts on her future development.

At first, she listened with focus, but then she became distracted.

When Lin Jianlu brought her back to reality, she felt quite embarrassed, her face blushing, and she quickly said, "What you say makes sense, much clearer than I could see it myself. I’ll listen to you; whatever you say, I’ll do!"

Well, it seemed the grand, well-prepared logic he had just delivered had all gone to waste.

He decided to just skip the topic and chat about something else instead.

Anyway, the storm was raging.

Her mother had been sick for a while recently and had been on an IV drip for half a month. She had tried to persuade her to get a proper check-up, but her mother wouldn't go. However, she had started to recover after the IV treatments. Recently, she had attended a few performances, and her mother had accompanied her—she had grown accustomed to her mother’s company and felt reassured by it.

She had been continuing to practice R&B singing and was trying to compose her own R&B works, but she hadn't felt anything good yet—she couldn't find inspiration. She described it as walking in a dark alley with no moon, no stars, and no lights—she couldn't see a glimmer of hope.

She had watched the music video for "Fairytale" and was deeply moved...

As for him, he had just... filmed music videos, drank with friends, and took a trip to Southeast Asia...

Suddenly, at one point, she asked somewhat abruptly, "The media in Taiwan has been reporting on your scandals, so many rumored girlfriends, so... do you really have a girlfriend you're dating?"

Lin Jianlu paused for a moment and then began counting on his fingers.

One, two, three, four, five—very seriously.

Chen Shuhua’s eyes widened instantly—however, he ran out of fingers on both hands and kept going until he reached thirteen before stopping. After a moment of hesitation, he showed a look of genuine conflict and replied, "About twelve or thirteen, I guess!"

After a moment of stunned silence, Chen Shuhua burst into laughter.