Volume One: Soaring from the Start Chapter Eight: I Wasn’t Lying—It Really Was Self-Taught

Chen Jing stepped out of the recording studio and looked at Lin Xi and the others, asking, “How was it? Was it okay?”

Lin Xi nodded. “No issues.”

Guo Xiaohui beamed at Chen Jing. “Young man, you sang very well.”

Chen Jing extended his hand to Guo Xiaohui. “Master Guo, you flatter me. I’m Chen Jing, but you can just call me Jing.”

He hadn't had a chance to introduce himself before this.

Guo Xiaohui chuckled. “Then Jing it is. No need to call me Master Guo; I really don't deserve that. Just call me Old Guo.” He shook Chen Jing’s hand with a friendly smile.

Everyone nearby watched the two of them in surprise. It felt odd to see Guo Xiaohui being so genial to Chen Jing, especially since Guo was known for being strict and serious, particularly with newcomers like Chen Jing.

Guo Xiaohui, however, couldn’t care less about what others thought. He simply felt that Chen Jing was worth treating this way. Having navigated the complexities of society for over a decade, he knew how to read people and act accordingly.

Lin Xi, on the other hand, wasn’t surprised at Guo Xiaohui’s behavior. She knew exactly how these seasoned veterans operated. They were like stock investors—if they spotted potential, they’d make a small investment, just in case it paid off.

Lin Xi said to Chen Jing, “Focus on practicing now. Try to finish recording this song within the next two days.”

Chen Jing nodded. “I just need to get the feel for it, then I can officially start recording.”

After that, Lin Xi didn’t watch him record any further. Instead, she went to contact music teachers to arrange his upcoming training sessions.

Before five o’clock, Chen Jing returned to Lin Xi’s office. He didn’t have his own studio yet—he wasn’t prominent enough—so he had to tag along with Lin Xi.

“You’re just in time,” Lin Xi said, picking up the plan in her hand. “Let’s discuss your next steps. From now on, you’ll come to the company every morning for lessons and training. In the afternoon, you’ll practice dance and work out.”

“Uh, I’m fine with dance lessons, but I don’t think I need to work out,” Chen Jing said, rolling up his sleeve to show his biceps.

Lin Xi glanced at him. “You’re in good shape, but we should strive for perfection. A handsome face paired with a perfect physique is lethally attractive to women.”

“Alright.” Chen Jing actually wanted to say his body was already perfect and didn’t need to be sculpted.

“You’re tall and broad,” Lin Xi continued, “so you shouldn’t go for an overly androgynous image. Shaping your physique won’t hurt. I won’t schedule your evenings, but I will say this: no one achieves success easily. If you want to make it, to become popular, you’ll have to put in several times, maybe even ten times, the effort others do.” She paused for a moment and added, “Even if you’re very talented.”

Chen Jing understood exactly what she meant. He’d learned that lesson thoroughly in his previous life, and he had no intention of going down the effeminate, delicate route.

“That’s your daily routine for now. Next, let’s talk about your development path.” Lin Xi brought out another plan. “As we discussed, ‘The Voice of Huaxia’ is a great stage for your debut. Try to get a good ranking. By then, your exposure and popularity will be up, and we can prepare your first album. Once the first album is out, we’ll see how the market reacts and plan your future accordingly.”

Chen Jing took the plan and began to read. As expected of a major company, they’d put together a comprehensive plan in just half a day. The roadmap for his career was clear and detailed.

After reading, he found no significant issues and nodded. “Alright, I’m fine with this.”

“By the way, what song are you planning to use for next Tuesday’s ‘Voice of Huaxia’ competition?”

Chen Jing thought for a moment. “How about ‘Birch Forest’? I’ll be releasing that single anyway, so I might as well use this chance for some promotion.”

Lin Xi nodded. “That works. I was thinking the same. Since you’ve decided on ‘Birch Forest,’ you need to finish recording it before next Tuesday. As soon as the show airs, we’ll release the single immediately. We need to prepare in advance—”

Chen Jing interrupted her. “It’s already done.”

“What? ‘Birch Forest’ is already recorded?” Lin Xi asked, surprised.

“Yep.”

“That fast?”

“Fast? That’s not fast, that’s efficient,” Chen Jing retorted. Honestly, how could she call him fast? A man should never be called fast.

Lin Xi rolled her eyes. Did he really think she didn’t get the innuendo?

“Alright, then focus on preparing. It’s your first time performing on the big screen—give it your best,” Lin Xi encouraged.

The next day, Chen Jing arrived at the company early. He had already gotten his employee ID yesterday, so he could have breakfast in the company cafeteria. Just as he finished eating, he ran into Lin Xi and Lin Zitan, who had also come for breakfast.

“Morning, Sister Lin Xi, Zitan,” Chen Jing greeted them.

“Morning, Jing,” Lin Zitan replied with a smile.

“Morning,” Lin Xi nodded. “Since you’ve finished breakfast, I’ll take you to your teacher for class.”

Chen Jing was surprised. “Wait, shouldn’t you finish breakfast first?”

Lin Xi shook her head. “No need. I’ll take you over first. Management can eat breakfast whenever they want.”

What else could Chen Jing say? There were class privileges everywhere.

They arrived at the training room for Jingrun Artists, where a female teacher was already waiting.

“Professor Yuan, this is Chen Jing, our company’s new signee,” Lin Xi introduced. “I’ll leave his coursework in your hands.”

Yuan Mengru was a doctoral advisor from the Huaxia Conservatory. After graduating, she became a professor at her alma mater and, after more than a decade in education, was specially invited by Jingrun Entertainment to teach artists. Her professional credentials were beyond question.

“Don’t worry, Director Lin,” Yuan Mengru said with a smile. “As long as he’s diligent, he’ll master the basics in no time.” She had always liked the youngest general manager in the company—maybe she saw a bit of her younger self in her. No, not just a shadow; Lin Xi might actually be more outstanding.

“Thank you, Professor Yuan. I’ll be in your care,” Chen Jing said respectfully.

Lin Xi tossed a parting shot at Chen Jing: “Study hard.” Then she left.

Yuan Mengru led Chen Jing into a classroom and handed him some study materials.

“Did Director Lin tell you what she expects from you?” Yuan Mengru asked, glancing at Chen Jing’s file. It was a standard artist’s profile, nothing special.

Chen Jing shook his head.

“Then let’s start from the basics,” Yuan Mengru assumed he was a complete novice.

“Uh…” Chen Jing hesitated, then said, “Actually, I’ve taught myself this music theory before.”

“Self-taught?” Yuan Mengru narrowed her eyes at him.

Chen Jing nodded. It counted as self-taught in his previous life, after all.

If he dared mention it, it meant he wasn’t just dabbling. He really knew his stuff—after all, he’d earned a PhD in composition in his past life.

Yuan Mengru looked at his honest expression and thought for a moment. “How about a test?”

“Alright.” Chen Jing was also curious to see if the music theory here matched his previous life’s knowledge.

Yuan Mengru casually picked up a test she’d written herself—one meant for the final exam after artist training, to see who had truly applied themselves. She reported every grade to the company for evaluation.

“Answer what you can; skip what you can’t,” she said, handing the test to Chen Jing.

He nodded and began working through it earnestly.

Seeing him so focused, Yuan Mengru decided not to disturb him and left the room to work on a paper she was about to publish. The test was supposed to take an hour and a half—she figured she’d come back in half an hour.

But Yuan Mengru got so engrossed in her work that when she looked at the clock, most of the half hour had already passed. “Ah, getting old—my memory’s slipping,” she muttered, quickly gathering her things and heading back to the classroom.

Entering, she saw that Chen Jing was no longer working on the test, but reading a book on composition and arranging that she’d brought in that morning and left on the table.

“You’re done already?” she asked, puzzled.

Chen Jing put down the book and nodded. “Yes, I’ve finished.”

Yuan Mengru didn’t catch his implication; she assumed the test had been too hard for him. To spare him embarrassment, she said encouragingly, “This test is meant for artists who’ve finished training. It’s difficult, so don’t worry if you couldn’t answer everything. No need to feel discouraged.”

Chen Jing was speechless at that, seeing her encouraging smile. Helplessly, he reminded her, “Professor Yuan, I really did finish the entire test.”

Yuan Mengru nodded absently. “Yes, you finished—wait, you mean you answered everything?”

Seeing him nod again, Yuan Mengru said nothing, but started reviewing the test carefully. She knew every answer by heart, having written it herself.

“All the multiple choice questions are correct. Good. The true/false questions too. Very good. The fill-in-the-blanks…”

At first, she wasn’t too surprised—those were basic questions anyone with some knowledge could get right. But as she read on, her astonishment grew. By the end, she was utterly stunned. After reviewing the whole test, she shook her head in disbelief and looked at Chen Jing with a complicated expression. After hesitating, she asked, “How did you do it?”

Chen Jing replied calmly, “Self-study?”

What else could he say? Tell her he hadn’t drunk the Waters of Forgetfulness, so he remembered his past life?

“Self-study?” Yuan Mengru echoed incredulously.

Chen Jing nodded firmly, emphasizing, “Self-study!”

Yuan Mengru: …

Are you kidding me??!!