Chapter Sixty-Four: Journey to Xiangzhou

With the signing ceremony concluded, the company’s own staff stepped forward to liaise with the reporters, presenting them with small gifts—not bribes, but tokens of appreciation for attending the event, and, of course, in the hope that they would speak favorably of the company afterward.

Once the media had filed out, Lin Qihua and his companions made their way to the audience seats, offering their thanks to the fans who had come to support them. To his surprise, amidst the bustle of the staff, he caught sight of Ma Xiaoqian, smiling as she handed out souvenirs to a fan.

“What is she doing here?” Lin Qihua was momentarily stunned, but realizing this wasn’t the time to be distracted, he composed himself to interact with the fans, expressing his gratitude before hastily departing with the others.

Ma Xiaoqian straightened up, watching Lin Qihua’s figure as he left, a faint smile curving her lips: At last, I’ve caught up with your footsteps.

After returning to the company, Lin Qihua found a moment to visit the “Morning Star” office area, seeking out Ma Xiaoqian.

“What brings you here?” he asked.

“Why can’t I be here?” Ma Xiaoqian replied, eyes sparkling with mirth. “I graduated, couldn’t find a job, and they happened to be hiring here, so I came.”

“Uh, you’re a graduate student from a prestigious university. Isn’t this beneath you?” Lin Qihua said, somewhat at a loss.

“For a department you personally oversaw the formation of, that’s not the right thing to say, is it?” Ma Xiaoqian countered. “What’s a master’s degree, really? In the end, we’re all just searching for work. I think it’s great here—decent pay, I get to do what I love, the best of both worlds.”

Lin Qihua could only surrender. “Alright, I can’t win an argument with you. If you need anything, just come to me.”

“No problem,” Ma Xiaoqian replied cheerfully.

Lin Qihua had no choice but to leave, while Ma Xiaoqian found herself surrounded by Chang Yan and the others, all eager to know more about her connection with Lin Qihua, their curiosity piqued by the revelation that the two were former classmates. Gossip and speculation abounded.

Unbeknownst to them, during their conversation, Shen Manni stood at a distance, watching, a sly smile on her lips as if she had just conceived a clever idea.

A few days later, on a flight to Xiangzhou, Lin Qihua was astonished to see Ma Xiaoqian following behind Shen Manni, listening attentively as the latter spoke.

“You’re coming too?” he exclaimed.

Ma Xiaoqian glanced at Shen Manni, unsure how to respond.

“Qihua, let me introduce you,” Shen Manni interjected. “This is my assistant, your deputy agent and personal assistant—Ma Xiaoqian. Since we’re heading to Xiangzhou together, naturally she’s coming along.” She winked at Lin Qihua, as if to say, “Surprised?”

Lin Qihua could only sigh, massaging his forehead in resignation. This was clearly Shen Manni’s doing—his agent was remarkable in every respect, except for her penchant for enjoying his discomfort.

Shen Manni laughed, patting Lin Qihua’s shoulder. “I used to worry about having to run around everywhere for you, wondering who I could trust to take care of you. No one else really put my mind at ease. Who would have thought the perfect candidate would deliver herself to my door? I’ve already arranged for her to start studying for an agent’s license. Once she passes, the two of us will be an invincible pair.”

“Do whatever you like.” Lin Qihua shook his head, somewhat amused yet exasperated. While he was pleased to have Ma Xiaoqian as his assistant, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Shen Manni had tricked him. He settled into his seat, donned his eye mask, and pretended to sleep.

But Shen Manni wasn’t about to cater to his mood. She sat with Ma Xiaoqian, earnestly discussing the tasks at hand. What she valued most in Ma Xiaoqian was her unwavering dedication to Lin Qihua—she knew Ma Xiaoqian would do her utmost, driven by that blind devotion that only love can inspire. As someone who had once walked that path, Sister Manni considered herself quite experienced in such matters.

Ma Xiaoqian, setting aside her anxiety, applied herself diligently to learning everything she could, determined not to be a burden but to prove her value now that she was by his side. Otherwise, what was the point?

She even shared some of He Yanlin’s ideas with Shen Manni, who marveled at their brilliance. “These are golden ideas! The world’s most mature and professional fan culture is found in sports. In Europe, America, and now even here, it’s become a tradition—families donning team jerseys every weekend to support their favorite teams, year after year without fail. To think of transplanting that culture into our world—now that’s genius.”

Shen Manni shook her head in wonder, amazed that Chang Yan and the others had brought her such a surprise so soon. She explained to Ma Xiaoqian, “In modern management, there’s a saying: leaders employ people, mid-levels use their brains, and workers use their bodies. The key to success lies in your position—if you’re at the top, you must know how to make the most of your people. This applies everywhere, from families to nations. Good governance is all about employing the right people in the right roles—a true test of a manager’s skill. If we’d put other employees in this position, they might have just followed the company’s instructions, without striving to innovate.”

“But Chang Yan and the others are different. First, they’re new to their roles and eager to prove themselves, which pushes them to think creatively. Second, before they were employees, they were fans of Qihua. Their passion and willingness to give without reservation means they’ll do anything to help their idol, placing special importance on the role of fans. And now, we’re already seeing results. I can’t wait to see what they’ll achieve next.”

“The one who came up with this plan is the true genius. Such a simple idea, yet it transforms the ordinary into the extraordinary.” Ma Xiaoqian gazed at Shen Manni with genuine admiration.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Shen Manni whispered conspiratorially. “Let me tell you a secret—I’m just the mouthpiece for the real mastermind up ahead. All these ideas are his; I just help refine the plans. My role is really only that of a secretary. Creativity is the real key. Your classmate has a mind that works in the most brilliant ways—he’s a genius, through and through.”

“Yes, he’s always been dazzling like that,” Ma Xiaoqian murmured dreamily, gazing at the back of Lin Qihua’s head.

Shen Manni smiled, lips pressed together, and left her to her thoughts. She herself lowered her head, pondering the upcoming trip to Xiangzhou. During her earlier contact with the "Singing King" production team at Xiangzhou TV, their response had been ambiguous, without giving any clear commitment, making her uncertain about what they would face. Still, that was to be expected—if they’d agreed immediately, it would have been odd. As the nation’s premier stage, they had the right to keep people guessing. Although Lin Qihua had recently gained some fame, the show likely didn’t think much of it. Over the years, “Singing King” had never lacked for top singers, A-list stars, even superstars. For a relatively unknown artist like Lin Qihua, just securing a meeting was already an achievement.

“This is a hell-level challenge—just opening the door is a major hurdle,” she thought, her enchanting features tinged with resignation.

As Shen Manni pondered this, the plane landed in Xiangzhou. The moment they stepped out of the airport, a wave of heat swept over them.

“It’s so hot,” Lin Qihua muttered, wearing oversized sunglasses as he followed the others from the terminal. They hailed a cab and headed straight for the hotel. The meeting was scheduled for the next morning, so the three of them needed some time to rest.

“No one recognized you,” Shen Manni teased her little artist.

“Please, do you know where we are? This is the epicenter of the nation’s entertainment industry, with artists coming and going all the time. Blending in is easy—no one cares who you are,” Lin Qihua replied with a laugh.

“Then why all the secrecy?”

“It’s necessary,” Lin Qihua explained. “Our target is ‘Singing King.’ Given our intent, we have to avoid any possible leaks. You should know that besides its influence, the show’s greatest selling point is its air of mystery.”

“Mystery?” Shen Manni suddenly understood. “Isn’t it a bit much to start worrying about that already?”

“Not at all,” Lin Qihua replied seriously. “If we want to participate, we have to play by their rules. If the media guesses we’re here for the show, even if the producers want us, they might have to say no.”

“Alright,” Shen Manni nodded. “I’ll handle everything from here.”

Lin Qihua nodded in satisfaction. What he had referred to as “Singing King’s” greatest attraction was the annual nationwide guessing game that preceded the show’s launch. Every year, as the show approached, the entertainment media and netizens would become obsessed with speculating about which singers would appear. Each day brought new rumors and confident predictions—a perfect way to build anticipation for the grand event.

The production team played along, shrouding everything in secrecy. Except for a select few, no one knew who the performers would be before the broadcast began. Even as the show aired, the singers were kept from seeing each other; on camera, they wore special costumes and spoke through voice modulators, ensuring their identities remained concealed. Only when a singer walked from backstage onto the stage did the audience discover, “Oh, it’s him!” This small trick brought immense delight and surprise to viewers, and the cat-and-mouse game of guessing and hiding identities became part of the fun. After the show was renamed, revived, and switched to live broadcast, this approach was adopted from similar formats elsewhere, restoring the original style and significantly boosting the show’s profile. That was the main difference between live and pre-recorded formats: with pre-recorded shows, the list of contestants would inevitably leak the same night as filming, spoiling any surprise. But with live broadcasts, the identity of each performer is revealed to the entire nation at the same time. This little game adds an extra layer of excitement, keeping the audience guessing and eager to see who will appear next—the true charm of live television.