Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen: I’m Numb—Can This Song Even Be Sung?

As soon as White Spirit saw Cold Yan start reaching for something to clobber her with, she wasted no time and took off on her long legs.

Only after she had gone far enough did Cold Yan finally shake his head with a helpless sigh.

"I wonder if my precious daughter, once she grows up, can be anything like that little White Spirit girl. Tch..."

Over forty now, Cold Yan naturally had a family of his own.

He had simply never revealed it, unwilling to let the filthy currents of the entertainment world stain his home.

But to be honest, his quirky little treasure of a daughter really did bear a few resemblances to White Spirit.

If, when she grew up, she could inherit even a fraction of White Spirit's wit and talent, he would be content.

Of course, when Cold Yan looked at White Spirit, he also carried a little of the same feeling one has toward a daughter.

He just had not quite noticed it himself.

After getting into the temporary hired van with Xiangzi and Miaomiao, White Spirit planned to return to the hotel where she was staying and rest properly.

Tomorrow, she would be heading back to the city where "I Am an Actor" was being held, to begin rehearsals with her teammates.

That was the real battlefield. She had to conserve her energy.

"Congratulations to the host for performing well today. You have received one hour of access to the interdimensional karaoke room!"

Just as White Spirit closed her eyes, the system in her mind suddenly chimed in and startled her.

"System, don't just pop out like that and scare people. It's creepy."

"Also, why is the reward only one hour?"

"I didn't do that badly today, did I?" White Spirit asked.

The system replied, "At present, this is only a recording session. The program has not officially launched, so not many people are paying attention. That is why the reward is not especially generous."

"If you want more substantial rewards, please perform well when the program officially goes live. Cooperate with promotion and maximize your fame!"

White Spirit shook her head. "Look at you. Same old habit, never changing. Always trying to tell me what to do."

"I've received my reward. You may withdraw and stand down."

The system: ...

The one hour of interdimensional karaoke practice time she had just received happened to be perfect for solving the song Cold Yan had asked her to write.

Still, she needed to see the exact requirements of his project.

That would let her make the best use of the karaoke time.

White Spirit opened the file and looked it over.

After just one glance, she grew interested.

"The Legend of Qin?"

"It's actually this animated series!"

This parallel world differed greatly from White Spirit's previous life, but there were also many similarities.

Among them, domestic animation was a shared sorrow in both worlds.

The comic and animation industries at home had long remained comparatively underdeveloped. Although there were a few decent works, the visuals were still rough and far from refined.

The Legend of Qin was one of them.

If one looked back now at the series' first season, one would find that, constrained by production conditions, it was almost unimaginably crude.

Still, the version in this world was somewhat better. At the very least, the color screenshots included in the proposal looked decent.

But that did not matter much to White Spirit.

She was a singer and an actress now; animation had little to do with her.

The reason she felt a certain spark of emotion was simply that, since childhood, she had been deeply impressed by The Legend of Qin's theme song.

And now, wasn't this the perfect answer to a sleeping person's pillow?

Without hesitation, White Spirit finalized the new song she would give Cold Yan.

On the way to the hotel, she sent her consciousness directly into the interdimensional karaoke room. Spending more than ten minutes there, she memorized every melody of "Moonlight" so thoroughly that she could recite it backward.

There was no helping it. White Spirit was no longer a clueless novice. Not only could she imitate what she saw, she could do it exceptionally well.

Once she reached the hotel, she got paper and pen from the front desk, then returned to her room and wrote out the staff notation.

She paired it with part of the lyrics and sent it to Cold Yan.

At that moment, Cold Yan had only just returned to the hotel where he was staying.

When he received White Spirit's message, there was still a trace of surprise on his face.

He opened it and froze.

Without hesitation, he sent a voice message.

"White Spirit, stop messing around!"

"Isn't this just something you had lying around already?"

"What I asked for was something that actually fits the animation itself..."

After sending the voice message, Cold Yan, wanting to make sure, carefully looked it over again.

"Moonlight's hue, a woman's fragrance"

"Tears sever the blade, how long does love endure?"

"How much pain, wordless thoughts"

"Forget you~"

"A lonely soul drifts with the wind"

"Who would ever think of a lovesick man"

"This battlefield of mortal dust~"

"Who among ten thousand riders and a thousand armies can claim the throne"

In that instant, Cold Yan felt he may have misunderstood White Spirit somewhat.

He hurried to retract the voice message, but by then two minutes had already passed.

"Young Master Cold, I didn't make a mistake. First take a look and see whether this song can be sung."

"If it can, then we'll settle on it. If not, then we'll consider..."

"Changing the singer..."

Cold Yan: ...

What kind of thing was that supposed to mean? What was that supposed to mean?

What do you mean, "see whether it can be sung"?

What a joke.

He, Young Master Cold, had roamed the music world for so many years. His range was broad, and his style was broad.

His writing ability was excellent, and his singing was outstanding.

Who did White Spirit think she was looking down on?

"This little girl has gotten too full of herself, hasn't she!"

Cold Yan: Nonsense [two blades]

Seeing Cold Yan use an emoji, White Spirit chuckled and sent back one of her own [arms folded].

Cold Yan did not keep bantering with her. He began to study the lyrics and melody carefully.

From the lyrics alone, they were quite good.

One could not call them the work of a top-tier lyricist, but they were at least very impressive.

And if one considered that White Spirit had produced them in just over half an hour, it was truly astonishing.

Of course, what White Spirit had sent was only part of it, not the full song.

Otherwise, Cold Yan would have gone straight to the hotel where White Spirit was staying, pried open her skull, and checked whether it was stuffed with several genius lyricists and composers.

Lyrics mattered, but the melody mattered even more.

Whether a song could succeed depended, above all else, on the tune.

The melody outweighed the lyrics, which outweighed the singer.

That was already close to common consensus.

Cold Yan intended to judge it from the most professional angle possible and see exactly how good White Spirit's song really was.

He had asked White Spirit for a song, yes, but no matter what, he could not afford to lose face himself.

Yet as he kept reading, he fell silent.

He compared it over and over again, and his face gradually darkened.

He put down his phone, shook his head, and sighed. He picked it up again, opened his mouth, then hesitated.

In the end, he called White Spirit in utter helplessness.

"Girl, are you serious?"

"Is that how you write lyrics and melody?"

"That line, 'Who dares cross the pass of love'—six words, and it twists through more than twenty turns. Is that even humanly singable?"

"Can you do it?"

By then, White Spirit had already bathed, scented herself, and was preparing to fall asleep in peace.

She yawned. "I only handle the writing. It's not me singing it."

"Young Master Cold, can you even do it or not? If not, I'll hang up. I'm going to sleep..."

The call ended.

Cold Yan immediately cracked apart.