Chapter Thirty-Six: Releasing a Song in an Hour? Are You Joking With Me?

Although Sister Ge would certainly maintain strict quality control over the song and would never let Bai Ling embarrass herself, Bai Ling still preferred to keep such a critical matter in her own hands.

Buying songs within the industry was common practice, but it could still be interpreted as a sign of “lack of ability.” While, admittedly, that was indeed the case, Bai Ling had no wish to step straight from one public controversy into another. That would simply be too troublesome.

So, after much consideration, she decided to dip into her own reserves—the system had rewarded her with a classic song.

Of course, another reason she was so willing to use this reward was because the upcoming program she was to participate in, “Celebrate New Year at My Home,” didn’t require her to perform. Therefore, Bai Ling felt no pressure at all. Besides, keeping a song in reserve forever was simply a waste.

After discussing things with Sister Ge, Bai Ling began to wait patiently.

At the same time, Sister Ge was feeling uneasy. Bai Ling had sounded so confident, but to produce a satisfactory song in just one hour? That seemed impossible, no matter how one looked at it. Still, since Bai Ling insisted, all Sister Ge could do was wait.

An hour was nothing, after all. In her mind, Bai Ling was probably working frantically against the clock right now.

In reality, Bai Ling had simply curled up with her phone, scrolling through short videos. When the time was right, she slowly said to the system, “System, I want to use my reward!”

“This time, I choose…”

“Invisible Wings!”

After all, this reward was for a classic song. To Bai Ling, the classics were those true anthems of her childhood. Compared to these, “Underwater” was good, but ultimately just a viral hit.

“Invisible Wings,” however, was a nationwide sensation in Bai Ling’s memory, beloved for its uplifting spirit. At least to her mind, bringing out this song now was a wise choice.

The system didn’t hesitate, and in no time provided the complete lyrics and sheet music, saving them directly onto Bai Ling’s USB drive.

Bai Ling then sent the files over.

Upon receiving the message, Sister Ge acted promptly and went straight to the Music Department.

As an established entertainment agency, Spring and Autumn Entertainment was exceptionally well-equipped, with departments for artists, music, public relations, marketing, operations, and more. The Music Department was particularly notable—only a handful of agencies had the resources to nurture their own in-house music teams to compose and write songs for their artists.

Spring and Autumn wasn’t the absolute best in this area, but it was certainly a step above companies like Starshine. There were a few big names in their Music Department.

Sister Ge was only a manager, not a professional artist, so she couldn’t judge the quality of Bai Ling’s song herself. She needed someone from the Music Department to evaluate it and offer guidance.

“Old Chen, are you free? Could you take a look at something for me?”

When Sister Ge entered the Music Department, she saw only a few people scattered around the office. She immediately understood—most of them were out gathering inspiration under the pretense of fieldwork.

Fortunately, she still managed to catch a familiar face.

The middle-aged man she addressed as Old Chen adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Take a look? At what?”

“What works could those mediocre artists in your care possibly produce? Are you bringing me some song you bought?”

As he spoke, Old Chen’s expression revealed a hint of disdain. Buying songs was commonplace in the industry, but the Music Department never liked it. After all, it felt like a denial of their own hard work and achievements—who could be happy about that?

Sister Ge certainly understood how the Music Department felt, so she chuckled, “Now, Old Chen, what are you saying?”

“How could I possibly insult your eyes with a song we bought? Come on, this is Bai Ling’s new song—she wrote it herself.”

Old Chen paused. “Bai Ling?”

Although Old Chen worked in the Music Department and had little to do with the company’s operations, the recent commotion around Bai Ling was impossible to ignore. Even those on the fringes of the entertainment world had heard about it.

Old Chen was no exception.

He knew Bai Ling’s breakout piece was “Underwater.” That song was indeed impressive—good lyrics, good composition. While Bai Ling’s singing skills weren’t top-tier, her emotional delivery was spot-on. Her personal story added a layer of authenticity, and the song became a hit. It was still topping the new and hot song charts.

In fact, the recent rumors of “unfilial conduct” had only fueled the song’s popularity, nearly pushing it into the top three on the hot songs chart.

For a newcomer with just one representative work, such results were astounding.

Of course, Old Chen didn’t care about popularity. He was a musician—he cared about one thing: purity.

What interested him about Bai Ling was her past. After all, she was getting on in years, with children of her own. He felt genuine sympathy for her difficult experiences.

“So this is Bai Ling’s new song?” he asked. “Let me have a look.”

Though he was in a hurry to pick up his children from school, he was willing to spare a few minutes.

Sister Ge grinned. “That’s more like it.”

She sent the file, and Old Chen opened it on his computer.

Lyrics and sheet music—everything was there except a demo. But as a seasoned professional, Old Chen didn’t need a demo to judge a song’s quality.

After reading the lyrics and examining the music, he fell silent.

“What’s wrong, Old Chen? Why aren’t you saying anything?” Sister Ge was waiting for his response. Even if Old Chen found it merely adequate, she could immediately arrange for Bai Ling to enter the recording studio. After all, a self-written song carried much more weight and influence than one that was bought.

But she hadn’t expected Old Chen to become so absorbed, almost as if he had drifted off into thought.

This made her a little anxious.

Old Chen was thoroughly engrossed, and Sister Ge’s interruption left him a bit displeased.

“Are you sure Bai Ling wrote this herself? Are you sure this isn’t a purchased song?”

Sister Ge nodded. “Absolutely. How could Bai Ling have found someone to sell her a song in just an hour?”

“Besides, even if she tried something sneaky, it wouldn’t escape my notice. I have plenty of connections in the industry.”

“And honestly, there’s no reason for her to deceive me—she’s a smart woman.”

As she spoke, she didn’t notice that Old Chen’s expression was growing more and more peculiar.

“So you’re saying Bai Ling wrote this song herself in just an hour?”

“You’re not pulling my leg, are you?”