Love Variety Show: The despised me exploded in popularity

The only downside, Lin Wanzhou showed up at Xinghai.

The lyricist and composer I had my eye on seems about to get poached, and it's happening right in front of me. It's really quite unbearable. But there's nothing I can say, after all, he's not my private property.

Just yesterday he said he was going to write songs for me, until I became famous, but now he's already forgotten.

Backstabber!! Jerk!

Pei Muchan cursed under her breath, while Xu Qingyan was still working on the score for "Partiality," so there was no need to stay cooped up in the composing studio.

At the moment, he didn't know who to sell this song to, as Pei Muchan wasn't quite suitable for this kind of song. He wanted to write it first and then find an opportunity to sell it to a fantasy TV drama production.

Although Pei Muchan often talks about releasing a new album, in reality, the studio is far too busy now. She's the boss, so she gets to take it a bit easier.

"Qing Tian," the song's potential hasn't been fully tapped yet, and it needs more time. But we can't wait too long either; once the hype dies down, releasing a new song risks a cold reception.

It's the same old saying, you've got to keep your presence in the public eye.

Either release songs more frequently, or increase visibility through other means, like making appearances on variety shows to round up some fans. As long as these fans convert into music fans, there's a positive feedback loop.

In the afternoon, Xu Qingyan finally logged into his Weibo main account.

He had over 99+ unread backstage messages which he didn't bother to look at. Nobody would start respecting him because he wrote "Qing Tian" well. Most of them are doubts, or backhanded compliments.

No worries, Xu Qingyan by nature was quite shameless, better at being sardonic and mischievous than the netizens.

Typing away, he also attached a video of Pei Muchan playing the guitar, and directly posted.

"Music industry newbie, just getting started, knows a bit about songwriting."

"To respond, yes, I really can't play the guitar, and yes, in the video I'm fake playing, but who do you think is playing the guitar for me?"

During his school days, he knew the "Lisao" by heart, but growing up, he forgot all about it, yet somehow became more flirtatious.

The third post, ding dong, was successfully published, flirty, shameless, and arrogant.

The air conditioning hummed, and Xu Qingyan fondled the score for "Partiality" in his hand, filled with mixed emotions. He had checked, and right now, all the fantasy dramas were centered around romance.

Their requirements were clear, they wanted sweet love songs.

Five hundred years without seeing the immortal, one look with the lantern and the eyes blur. All kinds of red-eyed immortals, temporary thrills in tormenting their wives, and crematorium scenes when chasing them back in the lower realms dominate. It has been too long since he last saw this circle, even more rotten now.

Who the hell keeps falling in love while cultivating immortality.

Although the path of immortality is arduous, there's nothing wrong with snuggling for warmth, but you can't just romance through the whole narrative. An entire romantic brain as an immortal master, it's a wonder how they even ascended.

And even worse, heirs of immortals?

These days even immortal cultivation has its elite, residing atop the peach blossoms. Though he's male immortal, he's got the delicate looks of a peach blossom face, that without knowing, one might mistake for a feminine man.

Based on the current situation, "Partiality" seems almost impossible to place with a fantasy drama.

There is a suitable script in the film and television repository, which happens to relate to "Partiality," and not only that, it's even tied to several decent songs.

But you can't just make a special batch of dumplings for a plate of vinegar, that obviously isn't realistic.

The sunset breeze was intense.

In the office, only Xu Qingyan was left, the air conditioner was off, and the windows on the second floor of the studio were wide open. The orange sunset filled the entire room, dreamlike and illusory.

He lay on the desk and wrote down the lyrics for a few songs.

He kept at it until the sunset faded, and Pei Muchan hadn't returned, probably delayed by something. He thought about it and decided to go out for dinner on his own.

He left the sheets of paper at the edge of the computer desk, covered by a mouse, after all, only Pei Muchan could enter the office.

He had just stepped out when, coincidentally, Pei Muchan rushed back.

She glanced at the empty office, sighed, and thought about checking the data first before asking where he had gone.