Chapter 167: What Exactly Does the Ex-Girlfriend Want?
Lu Zhou’s sustained high-profile activities in the music industry lately have generated massive discussion.
As Lu Zhou basks in his recent limelight, a particular group of people is practically over the moon.
That group is none of the staff members of the variety show *Stellar 1+1*...
Chief Director Chen Xiangxin is especially thrilled. "I knew it! From the very first moment I laid eyes on Lu Zhou, I predicted he was extraordinary! As expected of me! Truly as expected of me! I have such incredible foresight!"
The assistant director’s mouth twitched. "You’ve actually met him in person?"
Chen Xiangxin replied, "I watched his audition tape! The moment I finished watching it, I immediately granted him exemption privileges to join the variety show directly."
The assistant director muttered under his breath, "That was just because you were completely conquered by his talent..."
Still lost in his fantastical daydreams about Lu Zhou, Chen Xiangxin declared, "I have a new premonition: our show is definitely going to go viral!"
This sentiment was met with unanimous nods and agreement from everyone present.
Indeed, ever since certain singers they invited caught wind that Lu Zhou would be participating in *Stellar 1+1*, they completely shed their previous aloofness, and their enthusiasm for signing up surged dramatically. It was hard to tell what kind of mindset they were harboring.
Were they unconvinced and looking to issue a face-to-face challenge?
Or were they simply curious and eager for a direct musical showdown?
Or perhaps they purely wanted a close-up measure of Lu Zhou's true skill level?
The show's crew guessed it was probably a mix of all these things. Regardless, for this, they had Lu Zhou to thank.
***
Just as Lu Zhou finished discussing work matters with Pan Chengyi, his assistant Linda approached with a peculiar expression on her face.
Hesitantly, Linda spoke up, "Boss..."
Lu Zhou looked at her with an expression that conveyed a thousand words. "How many times do I have to tell you, stop calling me 'boss'. It sounds so tacky. Why can't you change that habit?"
Linda immediately grinned and corrected herself, "President Lu!"
In truth, forcing herself to call him "boss" was something she imposed on herself...
Because Brother Pan had mentioned that Lu Zhou did not want his close staff members to be his personal fans, she hadn't dared to affectionately call Lu Zhou "Brother Lu" anymore.
She was terrified that if she got too used to calling him that, she would blur the lines of reality. What if one day she relived her days as a die-hard fan, failed to restrain her fanatical heart, and instinctively called him "Big Brother Lu"? That would practically be the death of her!
It was safer to just call him "boss"—at least it constantly reminded her to keep a clear head!
Lu Zhou raised a hand to massage his temple. "Never mind, you might as well just call me boss..."
Linda smiled and acknowledged, "Got it! Boss!"
Lu Zhou: "..."
This assistant definitely possessed a certain streak of humor.
"What is it? Spit it out," Lu Zhou said, too lazy to correct her form of address any further.
A trace of hesitation flickered across Linda's face once more. She lowered her gaze to glance at her phone screen before slowly handing it over for Lu Zhou to see.
"Boss, your ex-girlfriend posted a Douyin video and deliberately tagged you in it. I originally wanted to handle it directly, but upon second thought, this situation seems a bit special. So I decided to come and ask you first. How would you like this handled..."
She said this while carefully observing his reaction.
Hearing this, Lu Zhou furrowed his brow slightly, took Linda’s phone, and began to read.
It turned out Li Jiayan had posted a piano-playing video on Douyin.
In the video, she wore a black, form-fitting dress, with her hair draped over her shoulders. Her face was made up in a mature, somewhat dark and gothic-leaning style—a complete departure from her usual aesthetic and look.
Her ten fingers flew across the piano keys, and the piece she was playing was none other than Lu Zhou's own recently sensationalized original piano composition—*Starry Night Sonata*.
The video also came with a caption: [#StarryNightSonataChallenge# Practiced for a while and finally played a version I'm personally quite satisfied with. I wonder if the emotional expression is correct? @Lu Zhou]
The comment section of the video was bustling with activity:
[So pretty, and this dark makeup looks gorgeous on you, sis!]
[Hahaha, listening to this version of the *Starry Night Sonata* feels like watching *The Vengeful Ex*.]
[Suddenly want to see you and Brother Lu play a four-hands duet. My CP fan genes are acting up again, what should I do?]
[Why did she @ Lu Zhou? Could this piano piece have been written by him?]
[This piano piece is an original by Lu Zhou! Need I say how awesome that is?]
[Sis, are you dropping hints about something?]
[Will I ever live to see the two of you get back together?]
...
Lu Zhou carefully watched the video several times, remaining silent throughout as if deep in thought.
Linda stood quietly to the side, secretly observing his micro-expressions in an attempt to decipher her boss's current state of mind.
*Why is he watching this video for so long?*
Linda wondered inwardly.
She cautiously probed, "Should we interact with it?"
"If we interact with it, it might draw all sorts of wild speculations from your former CP fans, and inevitably some strange voices will pop up... If we don't interact with it, we might end up facing condemnation for being cold and heartless, unwilling to even acknowledge an ex."
Linda analyzed the situation aloud.
"I think maybe we should respond after all? Just reply in a completely emotionless tone. But that might inflict a certain degree of emotional hurt on her. It really depends on your own preference..."
Hearing this, Lu Zhou snapped back to reality and handed the phone back to Linda.
"Never mind that. I'll handle the reply myself," he said.
Seeing his exceptionally serious expression—which even carried a hint of heaviness?—Linda couldn't help but pause. *Could the boss still have feelings for his ex???*
Unable to guess his thoughts, Linda hastily nodded. "Alright, just let me know if you need me to do anything."
After the assistant left, Lu Zhou sat alone in his office and pondered for a long time.
When Li Jiayan had previously asked him for the original sheet music of *Starry Night Sonata*, he simply assumed it was the natural, passionate enthusiasm a professional pianist would have for piano music. Her coming to him for the score had seemed like a completely normal action.
From the current perspective, however, it seemed everything was not as simple as he had previously imagined.
Judging from the piano-playing technique in the video, she had practiced diligently and incorporated her own stylistic choices into the performance.
There was nothing wrong with this behavior. Encountering a piano piece you love, putting in hard work to practice it, and finding your own style—these were typical actions for any professional pianist.
However, she had recorded the video, posted it online, and specifically tagged him to ask for a critique.
If Li Jiayan had simply wanted to get his genuine critique, she didn't need to post it online; she could have just sent him the video via direct message and asked.
After all, he hadn't blocked her.
Yet Li Jiayan didn't do that. She chose to upload the piano video to the internet and even created a dedicated hashtag: #StarryNightSonataChallenge#...
The intention behind this... was far too thought-provoking.
Lu Zhou retrieved his memories and recalled that in his past life, Li Jiayan had never pulled a stunt like this.
Perhaps back then, it was because he had already announced his relationship with Ye Fangfei that she refrained from doing so.
Lu Zhou deduced that if he hadn't made his relationship with Ye Fangfei public at this stage in his previous life, Li Jiayan very likely would have made the exact same move today.
Therefore... which meant:
Regardless of whether he ultimately ended up with Ye Fangfei or not, and regardless of whether he rejected Li Jiayan's confession with a decisive or tactful attitude... none of it could extinguish Li Jiayan's obsession with him...
Her pride was truly that strong.
Lu Zhou let out a soft sigh.
Thus, Li Jiayan at this stage in this lifetime still hadn't completely given up on him.
Lu Zhou realized that as long as he climbed higher, it would be impossible to prevent her from harboring fantasies about him.
He took out his phone, opened Douyin, and pulled up the video where Li Jiayan had tagged him.
In just a short span of time, the view count had already broken past the next tier, and clicking into the hashtag she created, #StarryNightSonataChallenge#, revealed that quite a few other piano students had already followed suit, posting their own videos using the hashtag.
The trending heat continued to skyrocket.
With this kind of growth rate—absent any behind-the-scenes promoters running ad campaigns—it was unrealistic to rely solely on Li Jiayan's individual popularity to drive a piano piece to such soaring levels of engagement in such a short time.
Li Jiayan's previous presence on Douyin had not been strong; her videos failed to gain traction, and her follower count was low.
The popularity and followers she had accumulated from her stint on the ex-lovers reality show were primarily concentrated on Weibo.
Yet now, she had suddenly posted this video on Douyin. From her makeup design, the emotional arrangement of her playing, the copywriting, to the hashtag strategy—every single aspect reeked of professional operational tactics.
Lu Zhou simply wouldn't believe that Li Jiayan's methods for operating a Douyin account had suddenly undergone such a massive transformation without the guidance of a professional behind the scenes.
Who was guiding her?
Who else could it be...
Lu Zhou leaned back in his office chair and looked up at the ceiling.
"Coming full circle, these two still ended up tangled together. I'm impressed," he muttered to himself.
Lu Zhou had been too busy recently, so his plan to find Xu Junze and have a talk had been temporarily shelved.
It was just shelved for a short while, though. Never did he expect that within such a brief period, the gears of the world would spin right back onto their original tracks...
Lu Zhou pressed his temples. *No, before my mindset shifts completely, I still can't let them run wild. Who knows what kind of unexpected mess they might stir up next?*
However, since things had already transpired, he might as well play along and turn the situation to his advantage.
With that thought in mind, Lu Zhou opened the comment section of Li Jiayan's video and typed out his reply:
[As the saying goes, there are a thousand Hamlets in a thousand people's eyes. Books are like this, and songs are no exception. For the exact same piece of music, everyone will have their own personal understanding after listening to it. Its emotional expression actually has no standard answer.]
Lu Zhou's reply was quickly liked and pushed by netizens to the top of the comment section.
Gossip-loving netizens flooded the replies underneath Lu Zhou's comment:
[Ahhh! You two finally interacted!]
[That critique is so spot-on, but I think the way she plays is lightyears away from your version!]
[Understood, answering like this ensures you don't offend anyone.]
[Translated into plain English, that means: The emotion you're trying to express in this piece is really nothing like what my original song intended, haha.]
[Ever since ancient times, trying to surpass the original creator is a terribly difficult feat. There's no need for everyone to mock or tear her down; I think her version sounds quite nice.]
[Brother Lu, do you and Yanyan still keep in touch privately?]
[You actually responded! Is there still a chance the two of you will get back together?]
[Ship-sinking faction, stop daydreaming. The current Li is truly not good enough for Lu anymore.]
...
Lu Zhou's response to Li Jiayan once again injected a fresh wave of trending discussion into the video.
The view count on the video continuously climbed to new heights, and fueled by this momentum, the hashtag's popularity grew hotter and hotter.
After several days of fermentation, the desire to rise to the challenge was ignited among many netizen piano learners. One after another, they purchased the original piano sheet music, practiced bitterly at home, and then filmed videos to post under the hashtag, tagging Lu Zhou for a critique and asking him to personally grade their homework.
This wave effectively drove up the sales of the sheet music for *Starry Night Sonata*.
Shortly after, Lu Zhou posted a Douyin video of his own, specifically picking out a few representative videos of netizens playing the piano and offering brief responses to them.
Receiving a response from Lu Zhou himself sent everyone into an even greater frenzy. The hashtag grew increasingly active, with more and more people joining in to "turn in their homework."
In no time at all, #StarryNightSonataChallenge# became the most popular piano-themed topic event, even breaking out of its niche and going mainstream.
The Douyin Music Department contacted Legend Entertainment to purchase the copyright for the original *Starry Night Sonata* track, adding it to the Douyin platform's background music library for users to utilize.
The piano piece *Starry Night Sonata* gradually became known to the general public, and its popularity blew wide open overnight.
Still, it was ultimately a relatively complex piece of classical music, and the majority of the general public wouldn't be able to appreciate this genre of music for long stretches of time.
Therefore, no matter how hot it became in the short term, it wouldn't reach the level of a phenomenon-class pop song. Most people who didn't understand the piano would listen for the novelty, and their enthusiasm would eventually fade.
Even so, both Lu Zhou and Li Jiayan reaped a massive wave of new followers thanks to this wave of Douyin traffic.
Li Jiayan had achieved the exact outcome she anticipated.
She expressed her gratitude to Xu Junze, thanking him for selflessly providing her with his traffic-building strategy, which had proven exceptionally effective.
Through this experience, Li Jiayan arrived at a conclusion: when it comes to professional matters, you truly have to leave them to the professionals.
For this video operation, she had specifically consulted Xu Junze.
In fact, back on the ex-lovers reality show, Li Jiayan could sense the affection Xu Junze was directing toward her. But was that kind of affection love? She didn't think so.
She vaguely felt that Xu Junze probably wanted to develop her into one of the contracted internet celebrities under his MCN agency. Combined with a slight liking for her, that was why he deliberately got close to her during the latter half of the show.
The impression Xu Junze gave her was that of a rational man who valued emotions, but valued interests even more.
After the show ended, Li Jiayan and a friend had run into Xu Junze by chance at a shopping mall. The two had a brief chat, during which Xu Junze showed a keen interest in the current state of her career.
Because of this, Li Jiayan became increasingly convinced that Xu Junze wanted to sign her to his company for development.
After the show, the popularity Li Jiayan garnered hadn't been properly operated or maintained. Lacking experience in traffic management, her ability to monetize that traffic was merely average.
If she wanted to transform and achieve greater breakthroughs, she had to understand how to play the traffic game.
Nothing helps you progress faster than learning from someone more professional.
Thus, Li Jiayan proactively sought out Xu Junze and very sincerely confessed her thoughts.
Xu Junze was indeed interested in signing Li Jiayan, but seeing that she held deep skepticism toward his company's capabilities, he didn't display an overwhelming desire to cooperate at the time. Instead, adopting a wait-and-see attitude, he offered her a free trial strategy.
The idea for this traffic-testing stunt had been provided by Xu Junze.
The results were exceptionally obvious. Li Jiayan was extremely satisfied, and Xu Junze was equally pleased with her surging traffic data metrics.
With both parties satisfied and mutually inclined to forge a partnership, as they were preparing to discuss the formal signing, Xu Junze received a phone call from Lu Zhou.
"Got time? Let me treat you to a meal," were Lu Zhou's exact words over the phone.
Why would Lu Zhou—the rising star of the music scene whose market value was vastly different from what it used to be—suddenly have the time to invite him to dinner?
Why???
Could it be that he found out Xu Junze was the one who orchestrated Li Jiayan's recent video stunt?
Was this a call to hold him accountable?
That didn't make sense. In that operation, Li Jiayan wasn't the only beneficiary; it had brought massive benefits to Lu Zhou as well.
Sending someone money and then holding them accountable? That made no sense. Unless Lu Zhou personally detested earning money through public opinion manipulation.
Yet Lu Zhou himself had risen from the bottom by exploiting this very mechanism... Logically speaking, he shouldn't be that repulsed by it.
Xu Junze simply couldn't fathom why Lu Zhou was inviting him to dinner, but in the end, he agreed to attend.