Chapter 136: The Debt of Gratitude (Combined Two Parts)

Outside the door, Hu San pressed the light switch with one hand, her sleepy eyes fixed on him; the bright white light just now had come from her turning on the lamp.

Zhou Miao’s current appearance made Hu San freeze in place—his hair was soaking wet, water droplets trailing down from the tips, drenching his whole body.

Concerned, Hu San asked, “What’s wrong with you?”

Zhou Miao suddenly realized how odd he looked, then casually grabbed a dry towel and began to dry his hair.

“Nothing, I woke up feeling hot, so I came to rinse my head.”

“Woke up hot?” Hu San rubbed her arm; even in her pajamas, she could feel the chill from the air conditioner.

She could tell Zhou Miao had something on his mind, but since he didn’t want to talk, she didn’t press further—everyone has their secrets, after all.

Zhou Miao sat on the toilet while Hu San took out a hairdryer to dry his hair.

Her soft hands moved gently over his head, and gradually, Zhou Miao closed his eyes and buried his head in her arms.

Hu San smiled helplessly, “How am I supposed to dry your hair if you’re like this?”

Ignoring her, Zhou Miao hugged her waist tightly. “Will you leave me?”

Hu San stroked his still-warm hair, “Depends on how you behave.”

“Really? I have to behave?”

Unhappy with that answer, Zhou Miao began to act up, inhaling deeply the fragrance on her, his head moving restlessly against her chest.

Blushing, Hu San pinched him lightly. “Stop it! It’s past three in the morning, and I have classes in the morning!”

“Take the day off, stay home with me tomorrow, and let’s finish the rest of that box,” Zhou Miao said, scooping Hu San up in his arms and striding out of the bathroom.

Why overthink? Life is short—better to seize the moment.

…

At the second-stage driving test hall, Zhou Miao and Hu San found a seat and waited in line.

“Don’t be nervous during the test. Just focus on the points the instructor mentioned. It’s simple,” Hu San advised.

Zhou Miao glanced at her, “Are you lecturing me on driving now?”

Hu San frowned, pinching the soft flesh at his waist. “If you don’t pass, I’ll tease you forever!”

“Ouch, ouch, ouch!”

Half an hour later, it was Zhou Miao’s turn. He removed his mask and handed his documents to the staff for verification.

The young clerk froze upon recognizing the familiar face. “Zhou Miao?”

Zhou Miao quickly put a finger to his lips, but it was too late—several girls nearby began screaming excitedly.

Seeing the commotion, the staff hurriedly ushered Zhou Miao into the exam zone. Outside, candidates crowded the windows, eager to watch him take the test.

Inside the testing area, Zhou Miao paid no attention to the gazes behind him. Taking a deep breath, he thought, “The Akina Speedstars driver is ready to go!”

Humming a tune, he climbed into the exam car.

Five minutes later…

“Test over. Result: fail.”

Everything went smoothly until the hill start section, where he released the clutch too quickly, causing the engine to stall.

He drove the car back to the starting point, got out, scratched his head awkwardly, and stood aside, waiting for the on-site retake.

In the waiting hall, a crowd burst into laughter—Zhou Miao had failed his test on the first try.

Hu San overheard them from afar and couldn’t help but smile. Let’s see if he dares to show off in front of me again!

For the retake, Zhou Miao finally took it seriously. He moved cautiously through every step and passed smoothly.

Escorted by security, Zhou Miao successfully escaped his fans after the test. Hu San had been waiting for him in the car.

Zhou Miao avoided Hu San’s smiling eyes. “What are we having for lunch? Hotpot? Or skewers?”

“Hey, Miao, you’re trending on Weibo,” Yang Xiaoya suddenly interjected from the front seat.

Zhou Miao sensed trouble. “Trending for what?”

“For taking the second-stage test twice.”

Yang Xiaoya and Hu San chuckled quietly.

Zhou Miao was speechless. People these days were really bored. So what if he took the test twice? What was so newsworthy about that?

At that moment, his phone rang. It was Huang Chengxi.

“Hello?”

“Congratulations on passing the second-stage test.”

Zhou Miao’s face darkened. “What do you want? If nothing, I’m hanging up.”

“No, no, no! I can’t joke with you now—I need a favor.”

“What is it?”

“My album dropped today. Could you help me promote it on Weibo?”

Zhou Miao thought it was no big deal and agreed immediately. They had a good relationship, and Huang Chengxi had helped promote Zhou Miao’s previous album “Time-Space Intersect,” so it was only fair.

Zhou Miao pulled out his phone and posted on Weibo: “Has everyone listened to Huang Chengxi’s new album? The lead track ‘Love Till Death’ is amazing—no wonder I wrote it!”

Unlike Zhou Miao, who invested heavily in promotion, Huang Chengxi had not poured much into marketing; his main audience was his fans. Many netizens only learned about Huang Chengxi’s new album because of Zhou Miao’s post.

The combination of Zhou Miao’s songwriting and Huang Chengxi’s vocal prowess was unbeatable.

Trusting Zhou Miao, many netizens bought Huang Chengxi’s album and streamed the lead song, “Love Till Death.”

Before listeners could brace themselves, Huang Chengxi’s piercing high notes burst forth:

“Love till death!

If it’s not intense, it’s not true!

Only such depth can confess love!

Love till death!

If you don’t cry until you smile, it’s not right!

Even if the universe ends, the heart remains!”

…

First-time listeners were instantly stunned by the soaring vocals, goosebumps rising all over.

Zhou Miao had written such a heart-wrenching rock song for Huang Chengxi; just hearing his screams was exhilarating, making one want to roar along.

“Love till the end!

If it’s not wildly romantic, it’s not right!

Snow will fall, earth will bury,

But yearning will not rot!

Love till the last road!

If it’s not eternal, it’s not right!

No fear of love turning to fire,

Only boiling passion is brilliant!”

After listening to “Love Till Death” in full, the overwhelming feeling was pure exhilaration! Even if the throat couldn’t hit the notes, the soul vented with the music—a perfect stress-relief anthem!

Upon its release, Huang Chengxi’s song instantly dominated KTVs nationwide. In every private room, people screamed hoarsely, unbothered if their voices cracked—just letting it out was what mattered!

Huang Chengxi’s smile was crooked from ear to ear. He finally had a hit that swept the country, and his commercial performance fees soared.

The explosive success of “Love Till Death” made many singers green with envy. Everyone knew Zhou Miao’s songs became hits, but besides artists under Rainbow Entertainment, no other singers had succeeded in getting songs from him—Huang Chengxi was the first.

Anqi, a devoted fan of Zhou Miao, was especially bitter. She had also requested songs but hadn’t received a single reply. Why was Huang Chengxi the chosen one?

When Anqi called Huang Chengxi, he laughed, “Getting Zhou Miao to write for you is simple—just get familiar with him. He’s always generous to friends. Look at how many songs he’s written for Zhao Li.”

At the mention of Zhao Li, Anqi scoffed silently—a woman who rose to fame by clinging to Miao.

“By the way, why haven’t you been in the news lately? Incubating something at home?” Huang Chengxi asked.

As a top female star, Anqi had been unusually quiet for half a year.

“I’m plotting a big news story. You’ll see soon. Remember to support me!” Anqi said mysteriously.

“You’re not pregnant, are you?” Huang Chengxi suspected she was on maternity leave.

“Pfft! You’ve been hanging out with Miao too long—picking up his mouth!” Anqi spat at him.

“Just wait and see!”

After hanging up, Huang Chengxi stared at his phone, bewildered. She hung up halfway through her sentence.

…

Huang Chengxi was good with favors, but Tencent was a different matter.

Tencent had been instrumental in helping Zhou Miao secure the Winter Olympics theme song production rights but now was showing its capitalist face, sending debt collectors to collect today.

In Zhou Miao’s office, a poised middle-aged woman accepted tea from Yang Xiaoya, thanking her politely.

Zhou Miao flipped through a program proposal titled “Southern and Northern Tones,” expressionless.

“This program feels a bit like ‘Singer-Songwriter,’ doesn’t it?” Zhou Miao remarked.

Yang Pan, the director of “Southern and Northern Tones,” nodded. “Yes, to be frank, it’s a variant of ‘Singer-Songwriter,’ but the contestants are divided into Southern and Northern factions competing against each other.”

“Each round has a creative theme. Contestants must compose songs based on the theme, reflecting the cultural traits of their region.”

“For example, if the first theme is ‘cockroach,’ as a Southern representative, you’d write a song about a cockroach that’s distinctly Southern.”

Zhou Miao’s eyes brightened. “Using regional cultural traits and the contrast between North and South as a selling point—that sounds promising.”

“But the quality depends on the contestants’ skills. Aside from me, who else are you inviting?”

For a competition music show to be engaging, there must be real rivalry. If the other creators are amateurs, it’s just a new song showcase. Zhou Miao wouldn’t join such a meaningless contest.

“Rest assured, the creators we’ve invited are very capable,” Yang Pan assured.

“Besides you, the Southern representatives are Tan Yue and Zhao Tianxiang. The Northern trio are Gu Xi, Lu Jinping, and Zhang Tuo.”

Upon hearing the other five names, Zhou Miao’s eyes lit up. These were heavyweight figures in the Chinese music scene—icons from the golden era whose songs Zhou Miao grew up listening to.

Competing alongside his youthful idols sparked his interest.

Closing the proposal, Zhou Miao said, “Alright, I’m in.”

Yang Pan smiled and stood to shake his hand. “Looking forward to a great collaboration!”

As Tencent’s flagship S-tier project this year, “Southern and Northern Tones” received massive promotion. Even before revealing the cast, its marketing focused on the North-South cultural differences, attracting much attention.

After Zhou Miao confirmed participation, the official program account announced the lineup that very night.

The star-studded cast caused a stir. Zhou Miao, being a rising national-level producer and popular top artist, was a given.

The other five were equally esteemed, pillars of the Chinese music industry’s golden age.

Tencent had to work hard to secure their participation because at their status and age, money alone wouldn’t sway them.

They agreed mainly to compete once more against long-time rivals.

As for Zhou Miao, the other five hardly considered him a threat—a top star? Just a junior filling the roster.

Following the announcement, the show launched its first-round theme solicitation nationwide. In just three days, over 40 million people participated.

But after seeing the final results, Zhou Miao knew at least half the voters were male.

The winning theme for the first round: Woman.

It garnered 21.4 million votes.

The voting trend clearly showed that once “Woman” appeared as an option, other themes barely gained any traction.

With the first theme set, the six contestants had a week to prepare their songs before filming began.

Woman. Southern woman…

For a moment, Zhou Miao couldn’t think of a suitable song to match the theme.

It had to fit the theme and showcase Southern characteristics. What defined Southern women? Was being flirtatious part of it?

After racking his brain, he drew a blank and decided to seek help.

“Xiao C?” Zhou Miao called out hoarsely from his bed.

Soon, Hu San, wearing an apron and attempting to make pancakes in the kitchen, came over. “What’s up?”

“I want to ask you something. From a woman’s perspective, what are the traits of Southern women? How are they different from Northern women?” Zhou Miao asked.

Hu San thought for a while, then replied uncertainly, “I think Southern girls are more feminine. In our dorm, we have two Northern girls—they’re pretty tomboyish, carefree.”

Feminine, Zhou Miao nodded. “Anything else?”

Hu San pinched her chin. “Southern girls are clingier, like to act cute. Northern girls feel more independent.”

Zhou Miao knew this well—since they got together, Hu San had become very clingy and often acted coquettishly.

But after all this, Zhou Miao still had no inspiration. He got dressed and went to Rainbow Entertainment, where girls from all over the country worked; maybe that would spark his creativity.

He spent the whole day wandering around rehearsal studios like a voyeur, peering through windows, but nothing stirred.

Until he reached Zuo Qiu’s office and saw her holding a tall wine glass, barefoot, swaying her waist gently to the music.

At that moment, a flash of inspiration struck his mind.

He had it!