Chapter 19

【Jin Jiu has been bound.】

Sheng Quan confirmed Jin Jiu’s queue number once again.

It was indeed 79.

Sheng Quan remembered the number 79 because there was a scene in the book where Jin Jiu, after successfully mastering singing with a husky voice, participated in various small and large programs open for registration to overcome his fear of singing on stage.

As mentioned before, the entertainment industry in “Starlight” was very turbulent. Even someone like Yan Hui, whose appearance could easily rank in the top five in terms of attractiveness in her previous life, was only considered average here.

It wasn’t just the artists; major companies and directors behind the scenes were also quite turbulent. Under such conditions, various talent shows emerged endlessly.

There were many large-scale ones, and even more small-scale ones, covering everything from selecting the best appearance, best voice, most beautiful dance, best acting, to even selecting the best martial artists.

After changing his singing style and practicing for seven years, Jin Jiu, at the age of 23, signed up for a singing talent show produced by a nearly defunct TV station. The usual paid voting process was replaced with “every vote from the audience would be donated to a charity organization.”

This charity organization was genuine. Since its establishment, it had been transparent across the internet, ensuring that every penny would go where it was supposed to.

With such an operation, a small show that had previously been ignored attracted some attention, resulting in relatively good outcomes achieved at low costs.

Jin Jiu broke free from the shadow and shone brightly… of course not.

When it was his turn to go on stage, he still couldn’t sing a single line. He was eliminated in just one minute after going up, but as described in the book, he didn’t feel very disappointed. Instead, after stepping off the stage, he cast 790 votes for a contestant he believed sang very well.

Each vote cost one yuan, so 790 yuan was almost Jin Jiu’s monthly living expenses. After voting, he still told himself in his heart that this time wasn’t in vain. It was more worthwhile for these 790 yuan to be spent on someone else than on himself.

Sheng Quan would elevate Jin Jiu from “casual favorite fictional character” to “very favorite fictional character,” and this storyline was a significant reason for that.

After Jin Jiu’s suicide attempt, Sheng Quan didn’t want to even glance at the previous text. However, some other readers gathered together to analyze his emotional journey.

She accidentally glimpsed a discussion in the group mentioning that after Jin Jiu’s voice was ruined, he went through a period of self-doubt for ten years. If someone had been willing to lend him a hand during this time, there was a high possibility he could have overcome his internal obstacles.

During those ten years in the middle, hope gradually faded, but there was still a glimmer of hope to keep moving forward.

In the final ten years, after enduring decades of fatigue and physical decline, Jin Jiu was likely suffering from depression at that time. Tortured by illness, when his parents passed away while he was struggling, singing on stage became his last obsession.

After fulfilling this obsession, he suddenly received a lot of love, just as intense and sudden as it was in the past.

How could this not make him feel afraid and fearful?

And now, although Jin Jiu’s voice would never recover, and the damage he endured would always remain, he was indeed in the most hopeful third phase of the thirty years.

This situation was somewhat similar to early-stage cancer.

It was terminal, you would die, but if discovered early, there was still hope for a cure.

Sheng Quan searched for news about Jin Jiu and found that it was all negative, mostly focusing on his “terrible singing” and labeling him a “fraud in the music industry.”

Going further back in time, it was all praise, about his voice kissed by angels, his healing voice, capable of making people feel abundant emotions.

The entertainment industry had always been like this, adoring someone to the skies when they were being praised and mercilessly trampling them when they were being criticized.

Almost none of Jin Jiu’s pre-ruined voice recordings remained. He hadn’t even had the chance to release an album back then. Most were videos or audio recordings, but perhaps due to the directive of the company at the time or because of the passage of seven years, Sheng Quan searched around and only found one or two clips.

When she read the novel, she was curious about what the voice that was so enthusiastically praised sounded like. Upon closer listening, she found that those praised reports weren’t exaggerations.

Even though the voice was obviously distorted, and the image was blurry, she still found the singing extremely pleasing.

The sixteen-year-old Jin Jiu was brimming with vitality. With just his talent, he could fully utilize his excellent voice, and the abundant emotions flowing between his singing lines could easily be sensed by those who listened, drawing them into the world brought forth by his song.

Even with flawed recordings like these, it was hard to imagine how comfortable it would be to listen to it live.

And in the novel, Jin Jiu, through thirty years of effort, managed to reshape another “voice of God” with his ruined voice. If he hadn’t committed suicide, he would definitely have had better development internationally. It was such a pity; after working so hard for so long, he was just one step away.

Every time Sheng Quan thought about this, she couldn’t help but lament. But as she lamented, she suddenly remembered that she had transmigrated and immediately stopped lamenting.

She glanced at the one billion yuan lying in the system funds and came up with a good idea.

---

The “Road of Life” book fan group was still chatting lively.

As they were chatting fervently, a new message popped up.

【Liked! When will this program be broadcasted?】

Most people didn’t react, but a small group of people were shocked: Sheng Quan is here!

A wealthy book fan! The owner of Hua Xing Tower!

After confirming that it wasn’t someone pretending to be her by changing their nickname, the group became lively.

【Ah! Miss Sheng Quan, you’re back!!!】

【Hello, wealthy lady, do you need a leg pendant? The kind that can go to the bathroom by itself after going to college】

【Rubbing, rubbing, rubbing frantically!!】

【I’m racing over on a motorcycle to watch! Is it really the owner?!!】

【Wuwuwu, big shot, you actually came back! I thought you abandoned the account!】

While the group was frantically messaging, many people immediately went super excitedly to share with their friends and family:

【Sheng Quan has appeared! She’s back!】

【Gather around! I’m going to witness a historic moment!】

【She’s been in the group all this time! Wow, it feels pretty good to be in the same group as the owner. Call me the frontline gossip expert from now on.】

As the group suddenly became ten times more lively, the girl who had been replied to also saw the message and was pleasantly surprised, quickly replying: 【It seems like it will be broadcasted tomorrow, with pre-voting today. I’m not sure about the details; I helped pull votes because my classmate participated.】

Actually, her classmate just went along for the fun. After all, even if it was a small TV station, it was still a TV station. It was quite novel to appear on TV. She also found it quite novel and volunteered to help pull votes.

As a result, she didn’t pull many votes, but she actually managed to pull the well-known Sheng Quan, who had spent ten million to sponsor the show.

This was a celebrity!

At least on various platforms, videos about “How rich people chase novels” and “How ridiculous the reasons are for rich people to buy a building” had been flying all over the place.

Sheng Quan hadn’t debuted, but her account, which hadn’t posted a single Weibo since its inception, now had more fans than many second-tier celebrities.

And those video accounts and big Vs were almost like they had been possessed by a spirit. They even found many artists, directors, or screenwriters who followed Sheng Quan. Among them were also quite a few bosses and directors of small entertainment companies. The list they compiled might not be earth-shattering, but it was definitely densely packed.

Insiders knew that the list didn’t include big companies or big stars, nor would it include big directors or screenwriters. They didn’t have any collaboration with Sheng Quan, so they wouldn’t actively follow her.

The list mostly consisted of third-tier or lower-tier individuals. Even if they had works, they were of the fleeting kind.

But the marketing accounts didn’t care about this.

They always did whatever was hot. Instead of telling the truth, saying “The people following Miss Sheng are all from small companies or nobodies with no money,” they preferred to turn a molehill into a mountain. They first listed out a densely packed list, then blew the individuals or companies in the list that were barely passable.

For example, if a third-tier actor appears in a TV series for just three scenes, they’ll hype it up as if they’ve starred in a blockbuster. If a director has only made one movie with a big investment that barely made any profit, they’ll exaggerate the box office numbers to be in the billions. If it’s a small company, they’ll boast about it being an established company in the entertainment industry for over ten years.

Anyway, they’ll first hype up these people, then imply, “If such people are actively following Sheng Quan, it shows how powerful the capital behind her really is,” and so on.

This video account hypes up another video account, and it continues like this until now, and Sheng Quan’s persona as a super-rich mogul is already firmly established.

Even though she hasn’t been around for long, and she doesn’t even bother to follow anyone back, let alone post on Weibo, everyone is willing to follow her closely with the mentality of “observing the rich up close.”

But when she suddenly appears in person, everyone’s first reaction is still, “Is this real?”

Sheng Quan didn’t reply to those crazy messages flooding her screen (mainly because she couldn’t keep up), but instead searched through the group messages to find the girl who had replied to her earlier and responded: “Looks good, I’ve liked it for your classmate!”

“I’m a bit interested. Where can I buy tickets? I searched but didn’t see the ticket entrance.”

Before the girl could reply, some enthusiastic group members immediately clarified: “Who would buy tickets for such a small production? The audience are usually friends and relatives of the contestants.”

“Yeah, I’ve been a friend or relative before, and for some shows, if there aren’t enough audience members, the production team will even pay people to act as audience members.”

“Isn’t this on Strawberry TV?”

“Damn, Sister Rich just said it, and I took a look. This talent show is insane. It’s broadcasted at one in the morning. Who does a talent show at this time?”

“They probably don’t have money. Just look at their layout; even on a channel as obscure as Strawberry TV, they still have such a cold broadcast time. It’s utterly chilling.”

Sheng Quan continued typing: “Ah, one in the morning? That’s a pity. I need to sleep early.”

“I was planning to go to the venue, but forget it. Skin care is more important.”

She chatted with her group friends for a while, had some fun, then left the group, and immediately called the marketing team.

“Now there are screenshots online. Just slightly expand on this matter; no need to make it too big. We have other activities lined up later.”

After the marketing team received the task and started working on it, she called Mr. Wang again, asking if he knew anyone from Strawberry TV.

Mr. Wang had been in the industry for many years. Even if he didn’t know anyone from Strawberry TV, he had friends in several other top-ranking stations. Of course, whether those friends would be willing to help was another matter.

Sheng Quan casually mentioned, “It’s nothing much, just that they have a show I’m quite interested in, and I want to ask you to get me a ticket.”

Was it necessary to ask someone of his caliber for a small thing like getting a ticket?

But if Sheng Quan wanted him to intervene, he’d be crazy to refuse. He immediately said, “You can rest assured; there’s absolutely no problem with this. Who am I doing this for?” Then he immediately called Strawberry TV.

His friend at Strawberry TV wasn’t just anybody; he was a vice director. When Mr. Wang asked him for tickets, he readily agreed, but he was also puzzled: “The crew for this show is not very reliable. Our station doesn’t pay much attention to them. Who are you asking for?”

He didn’t need to ask Mr. Wang; Sheng Quan could easily get tickets from anyone. Wasn’t she just asking him to mention her name to his friend at Strawberry TV?

The vice director’s expression changed slightly when Sheng Quan’s name was mentioned: “Isn’t she the one who’s been trending recently?”

Big TV stations might not care much about Sheng Quan, after all, her wealth had nothing to do with them, but for precarious little stations like Strawberry TV, it was different.

Mr. Wang exaggeratedly praised Sheng Quan, of course, also boasting about how friendly his relationship with Sheng Quan was, and Sheng Quan even gave him a discounted floor in her building.

Finally, he concluded: “Perhaps Miss Sheng is still young and likes to watch shows that young people like. Since she’s asked me for this, you should give me face and give Miss Sheng the best seats.”

The vice director was more than happy to oblige. Of course, he readily agreed.

After hanging up the phone, he thought for a moment, still feeling that such a big client shouldn’t be missed. He took out his phone and searched for the name of the obscure talent show and Sheng Quan’s name. Sure enough, there was a topic.

He sat there, looking at the screenshots on his phone, lost in thought.

A few minutes later, he switched to his contacts and dialed a number: “Director, it’s me…”

That night, the hashtag #ShengQuanLateAgain, [#YourVoiceWithMe airs five hours early#] trended.

Attached below was a screenshot of Strawberry TV’s official account, with the staff saying: “If Miss Sheng thinks 8 p.m. is still too late, we can continue to air it earlier.”

Looking at the rising trend, Sheng Quan said to Gu Zhao, who no longer needed intravenous drips and could use both hands to work: “Strawberry TV knows how to seize the opportunity.”

Gu Zhao wasn’t surprised: “If they don’t make an effort now, they’re really going to collapse.”

Sheng Quan: “I guessed they would cooperate with me, but I didn’t expect them to be so thorough, sacrificing themselves to become my foil. They’re all quite shrewd.”

“Now that they’re cooperating, they naturally have to do it thoroughly. Even if you said you liked someone in the station, they would immediately put that person in a box, tie it with a ribbon, and present it to you.”

Gu Zhao still had that machine-like AI tone, calmly saying something quite absurd:

“Of course, if you have such thoughts, I’ll help you realize them.”

Sheng Quan choked. Did everyone in this line of work have this problem? Yu Xiangwan was like this, and Gu Zhao was like this too.

She even suspected that based on their personalities, if she said she liked them, the ones who would box themselves up and tie ribbons would be these two.

Gu Zhao might not, but Yu Xiangwan definitely would, and that guy might even tie a bow on the box.

Luckily, she had a strong will; otherwise, wouldn’t she fall into depravity?

Sheng Quan composed herself for a moment, stood up and stretched lazily. “I’ll go watch the talent show tomorrow. I’m leaving the company to you.”

“People have been saying I’m rich. It’s about time I showed them just how rich I am.”