Chapter 23: An An, Help Me Record a Song
For several days, Su Chen had been studying how to advance to a Silver-tier composer. His experience from his previous life told him that this was not something to be rushed. He wouldn’t suddenly unveil a slew of songs to climb the charts. Showing off one’s talents too brazenly was never wise. He understood the principle that the tallest tree catches the wind; at times, it was better to keep a low profile. Moreover, for the company, slow and steady progress was preferable. The bait should be fed bit by bit. If you feed the fish too much at once, you lose your original value.
On the company’s internal platform, many projects had been posted after business negotiations with clients; composers could create based on the project backgrounds. As a senior composer, the projects available to him were limited. He skimmed through those he could see. Most were for companies soliciting corporate anthems or tourism promotion songs for certain places, which held little appeal. He had hoped for something like the “Strange Tales” project. But such projects were rare and only came about because Wang Yan used personal connections to secure it—a special case!
After browsing for a while without much gain, he was about to log out when a new event suddenly appeared on the page: a theme song contest for a microfilm.
“Beijing Normal University’s Directing Department Outstanding Graduation Project ‘My Father’ Theme Song Contest:
This is a story of redemption between a father and his daughter...”
The microfilm, told from the daughter’s perspective, narrated little stories from her toddling days to school and then to work. As a child, she cried to her father when she saw classmates enjoying candies while she had none. In middle school, her family’s financial difficulties made her a target for bullying, but she didn’t dare tell her parents. During college, her father visited, but she avoided him for fear that her classmates would find him embarrassing. After starting work, she learned to show respect, but still responded coldly to her father’s concern.
The first half of the story was full of complaints. Until one day, her father fell ill and was rushed to the hospital. Though timely treatment saved his life, he was left bedridden. When she went to tidy up his room, she discovered a diary. In it, her father had chronicled every moment of her growth—from her cries, her joys, her sorrows—all meticulously recorded.
Her father knew everything!
As she leafed through the diary, she felt the restrained, unspoken love—a deep affection for his child, always held back yet never failing. Only then did she realize what her father had endured all along.
Su Chen was deeply moved after reading this. Though he had never experienced such things himself, sometimes human emotions were universal.
Suddenly, a song came to his mind—he had an idea.
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During his lunch break, Su Chen headed to the Artist Department. Trainees usually had a busy schedule, so it wasn’t appropriate to interrupt them during work hours. The training room was nearly empty, most out for lunch, with only a few girls remaining. One was tidying up her training equipment, while the other two were engaging in gentle exercises to relieve fatigue.
They were surprised to see Su Chen. They had seen him before and knew he was the composer behind the “Strange Tales” theme song. However, they didn’t know what the song sounded like, as it hadn’t been released yet. Still, that alone was enough to earn their respect, and they wouldn’t shirk responsibility as they had before.
“Mr. Su, is there something you need?” one of the girls asked.
For composers, the Artist Department—especially the trainees—was required to remember them.
Su Chen smiled, “Have you seen Qu An’an?”
The girls suddenly understood, perhaps Mr. Su had a new demo to record. So soon to have another song—impressive!
One girl didn’t know where Qu An’an was and hesitated, casting a questioning glance at her companion. The other quickly responded, “Qu An’an should be in the break room right now. You can look there!”
“Alright, thank you!” Su Chen thanked them and left, while the girls began gossiping.
“Did you notice how handsome Mr. Su is?”
“Of course. I noticed the first time he came—he’s more attractive than any male artist here.”
“Then why didn’t you step forward and agree to partner with Mr. Su?”
“Pfft! Handsome doesn’t pay the bills—you have to be realistic!”
“Hehe, now that Mr. Su’s song has been chosen, do you regret it?”
The girls whispered animatedly.
Su Chen left the training room and walked down the corridor to the break room. Hm? No one was there. The room was empty except for a single boxed lunch on the T-shaped table.
He glanced around—no one else. He was about to leave when he heard a faint voice from the nearby copy room, sounding like Qu An’an.
“Hello? Dad!”
“Mm, I’m eating now. Did you all have lunch?”
“Yes, yes, I know. I’ll be careful.”
“Oh, Dad, I sent you another five thousand yesterday. Did you receive it?”
“Good, as long as you did. I’m fine, don’t worry!”
“We’re not too busy here. Regular hours every day, don’t worry. Tell Mom to take care of herself, too.”
“......”
Su Chen listened in silence. He knew the trainees’ salaries—roughly three thousand per month, much less than ordinary composers. In Jiangcheng, that income might not even cover rent and food for some. Yet this young woman managed to save five thousand to send home, and it sounded like she did so regularly.
Unbelievable!
He glanced at the boxed lunch on the table—a transparent plastic bowl with tomato scrambled eggs and a few simple vegetables. It was probably homemade and reheated in the microwave at noon.
She was truly hardworking!
Other trainees would eat in the mall’s food court.
As he pondered, the copy room door opened.
Qu An’an saw Su Chen and exclaimed, “Ah! Mr. Su?”
Her expression was awkward, as if her secret had been uncovered.
Seeing Su Chen’s gaze fall on her lunchbox, she seemed at a loss.
“Did you make it yourself?” Su Chen asked casually, smiling.
Qu An’an nodded shyly.
“It looks delicious. Tomato scrambled eggs are my favorite!” Su Chen praised her, and Qu An’an blushed.
“Mr. Su, did you come to see me?”
Su Chen realized he had nearly forgotten his purpose and smiled, “Yes. Are you free this afternoon?”
Qu An’an nodded, “Yes! Is it for recording a song? I just need to ask my training coach for leave.”
Su Chen checked the time and weighed his options.
“Alright, help me record a song this afternoon. How about two o’clock?”
Qu An’an quickly agreed. She didn’t dare ask who the song was written for or what it was for.
Su Chen shook his head and smiled. This young woman was truly a bit shy.