Chapter 21: Lend Me Five Minutes

“Trouble! Chen Xuanzuo is about to get up—he’s not listening anymore!” In the CEO’s office, Liu Susu was sweating bullets. Who would have thought that Shen Baizhou would drop the ball over something as simple as software? The situation had plunged straight into chaos. From company employees to industry big shots, everyone had effectively handed Shen Baizhou a death sentence!

“Why do they dislike Baizhou so much?” Su Hongdou looked puzzled. “He’s a really nice person…”

It was simply that someone had made them think Shen Baizhou wasn’t. Liu Susu glanced at Huang Liang on the screen, and her expression darkened instantly. She had to admit—though his methods were despicable, Huang Liang had succeeded. Now, no one would agree to fire Shen Baizhou…

At the podium, Shen Baizhou glanced at the audience, who were already starting to scatter. He raised a hand.

“Please lend me five minutes of your time.”

He declared decisively, “I’ve decided not to use a PPT. I’ll speak purely verbally!”

The situation was clear—no one had the patience to wait for him to prepare a presentation.

“Just five minutes,” he made a promise with a hand gesture. “If you find it boring, I’ll stop immediately and concede.”

A rustle of murmurs rose from the audience. A large number of people stood up, their faces full of doubt.

“Did he just say he can convince me in five minutes?” Mao Yi looked incredulous. “That confidence is borderline blind!”

“Shall we listen?” Guo Miao hesitated; she always had a soft spot for handsome guys.

“What’s there to listen to? Let’s go!” Fang Kuan said. “I’ve been holding in my pee for an hour—I can’t wait any longer…”

“Five minutes. I just need five minutes,” Shen Baizhou said sincerely, hands clasped. “Thank you all.”

“Tch, a last-ditch struggle,” Huang Liang sneered, full of disdain. Kids like him were naive; they’d never seen the world. The audience here were seasoned professionals. Five minutes to win them over? Impossible.

Xie Bing glanced at him. Huang Liang slapped his thigh: “Don’t talk about five minutes—even give him five hours, and if his The Tuner can impress them, I’ll write my surname Huang backward!”

Simayi merely smiled faintly, noncommittal. Chen Xuanzuo paused his rising but glanced impatiently at his phone, hesitating. Another five minutes?

“Act One.”

On stage, Shen Baizhou had already begun.

A low, eerie piano melody drifted through the room. The camera focused on the profile of an elderly man standing still. A young male voice narrated:

“I only perform for special people, like the one before me—I don’t know who he is, nor can I see him. Because I’m blind.”

“Huh?” Fang Kuan, who had already started walking down the aisle, stopped in his tracks.

The camera shifted to the pianist—a young man with a stiff expression. Shen Baizhou’s deep voice continued:

“At this moment, we realize he’s wearing nothing but underwear.”

“Interesting… a naked guy playing piano?” Fang Kuan pondered and sat back down. Might as well hold on a minute longer…

“This is suspenseful,” Mao Yi’s eyes lit up; he liked this opening. Others felt the same. Slowly, the conference room quieted down.

After a pause, the voiceover continued:

“I’m not performing for the man before me, but for the person behind me.”

The camera pulled back, revealing a shadow gently swaying behind the naked pianist…

Shen Baizhou glanced at the audience and suddenly shouted: “Bang!”

The unexpected sound startled everyone. Guo Miao clutched her chest, while Shen Baizhou continued calmly:

“With an explosion, the screen went dark, and the title appeared—The Tuner.”

Chen Xuanzuo looked up from his phone, surprised.

“Good start,” he nodded. “Very gripping!”

Simayi’s face darkened instantly. Huang Liang twitched slightly, feeling an uneasy premonition…

Behind them, the previously chaotic audience gradually sat upright.

“Baizhou’s approach is bold,” Wang Xiaopang was amazed. Shen Baizhou didn’t follow the usual process of introducing the concept, workflow, and highlights—he directly presented the filmed result. Every camera cut had been pre-designed… so straightforward?

“This start is good, very suspenseful,” Zhang Xiaomei commented cautiously. “But the rest won’t collapse, will it? He only had one night. How could he make a tightly structured story?”

“Given Baizhou’s level,” Wang Xiaopang thought, “collapse is inevitable.”

On stage, Shen Baizhou continued:

“Act Two. The camera moves to a lavish concert hall. The formally dressed protagonist bows to the audience, then approaches the piano. His hands tremble in nervousness. The voiceover says:

‘Last year, I was a genius, until that day in the crucial competition where I faltered.’”

The camera showed the protagonist’s face.

Glancing at the audience, Shen Baizhou said:

“Now we realize his eyes are not blind—he’s pretending.”

On the contestants’ seats, the silent Gu Chen crossed his hands—a habit when thinking. Zhao Yishan’s expression soured.

Shen Baizhou continued:

“Voiceover: ‘After that failure, my whole world collapsed.’ The camera cut to a bedroom. The protagonist stares at goldfish in a tank, while a girl packs to leave the room.”

“He got dumped!” Guo Miao covered her mouth, pitying him. “He failed the competition, lost his genius aura, and his girlfriend left him…”

The scene shifted to a restaurant. The protagonist wore blindfold-style sunglasses. Voiceover:

“To survive, I became a tuner. Every day, I visit homes to tune pianos…”

“Oh, a tuner adjusts piano sound for clients…” Many suddenly understood. Most hadn’t studied piano.

Shen Baizhou’s voice was magnetic, steady and deliberate.

“Act Three. In a restaurant, a middle-aged man sits across, furious:

‘Why has your tuning workload doubled?’

‘Isn’t that good?’ the protagonist asks.

‘Clients specifically requested the blind tuner…’ the man points at him. ‘You’re faking blindness!’”

“That’s his boss,” Mao Yi deduced. “He fears the protagonist’s act will ruin his reputation.”

“Got it,” Fang Kuan nodded, forgetting his bathroom break. He was hooked.

Shen Baizhou continued:

“The boss asks why he does this. The protagonist calmly narrates a story:

‘Once, a king in India lost his wife and decided to build an unparalleled monument for her. He hired the best architect, then killed the architect’s wife… You see what type of building I’m describing? The king said, since you also lost your wife…’ The architect built the immortal Taj Mahal.”

“That’s absurd,” the boss said.

“But people believed it,” the protagonist smiled.

“People always believe that only by losing something can a person truly become sensitive…”

He removed his sunglasses, revealing eyes wearing fake blind contacts.

“For instance, they believe a blind man’s ears are more precise…”

He smirked:

“Not only that—they reveal their private selves in front of a blind man.”

Shen Baizhou continued:

“Next, a montage: the protagonist pretends to be blind while tuning, as homeowners engage in strange acts—masking, walking in underwear, a graceful girl dancing to the piano, wearing only lingerie, thinking he cannot see her…”

Voiceover:

“Being blind has many perks. People treat you better, tips increase, and there are unexpected benefits…”

“Wow~” The boys in the audience cheered, imagining the blind protagonist peeking at girls…

“Tch, shameless!” Guo Miao protested. “Clearly not a proper protagonist!”

Yet even she was curious to see how it would be filmed—surely a fascinating visual…

“The structure is complete,” Zhang Xiaomei remarked in surprise. “Did Baizhou write this overnight?”

The screenwriter focused on plot structure.

“Impressive! Did Baizhou open his meridians last night?” Wang Xiaopang looked tense.

“Now let’s see how he ties back to the first scene’s suspense…”

Shen Baizhou was like a chef—ingredients prepared, the outcome depended on the heat and timing of cooking…

“The scene shifts to a door. The protagonist rings the bell repeatedly—no answer. Suspicious, he peeks at a notebook—it’s the right place.”

“Blind looking at a notebook, hahaha…” Everyone laughed at the mental image.

He rang again. A voice of an old woman came from inside: her husband is out, come another day. But he insisted on entering.

“Go away, please,” the old woman said. “I’ll still pay.”

“I’m blind,” he replied. “It’s hard for me to come, please open the door.”

She eventually opened it but still tried to make him leave. A neighbor peeked out suspiciously.

“Then come in…” she suddenly relented.

“Wait, what?” Su Hongdou tapped her cherry-red lips. “Why at first did she refuse even with money, but let him in after a glance from the neighbor?”

She was fully immersed in the story.

“This old lady’s suspicious,” Liu Susu frowned. Could such a gripping story really be written by rookie Shen Baizhou overnight? Last night, did he summon the literary gods?

“The protagonist enters, pretending to use a cane… suddenly, he falls! Struggling to rise, his clothes are stained with blood…”

“Don’t panic! Wrong way!” the old woman shouts, dragging him aside.

He glances at the sofa and freezes:

“A corpse… sitting on the living room couch!”

“Ah?” Everyone gasped, drawing in a sharp breath.

“Momma, is this old lady a murderer?”

“This is… so unexpected…”

“The fake blind man in a real murder scene!”

“No wonder she tried to stop him before,” someone urged. “And then?”

“Yeah, what happened next?” others pressed.

On stage, Shen Baizhou lowered his head and checked his phone.

“Five minutes are up,” he asked the audience. “Do you want to continue listening?”