Chapter 58: The Future of the "Morning Star"

The meeting between both parties was arranged in the reception room on the first floor. When Lin Qihua arrived, Shen Manni was already inside. Seeing her sitting there with such commanding presence, it was clear she was stirring things up again. Someone like Chang Yan would likely be intimidated by her.

As expected, when Lin Qihua entered, Chang Yan visibly relaxed, quickly standing up to greet him. Accompanying her were a girl with glasses named Li Zixuan and another man around thirty.

“Hello, I’m Night Walker,” the middle-aged man introduced himself with a handshake and a friendly smile.

“So it’s you!” Lin Qihua smiled with genuine warmth. After Chang Yan first reached out, he had already received her contact information and later invited her into the original fan group to introduce her to everyone. He hadn’t expected Night Walker would become her assistant.

“How should I address you?” he asked.

“Lin Yu,” Night Walker replied, “just an ordinary office worker from Yanjing.”

“Thank you for taking the time to do all this for me,” Lin Qihua said gratefully. “I didn’t expect you’d join Chang Yan’s team.”

“The kid was actually the most enthusiastic, but she’s too young with heavy schoolwork, so she asked me to represent her. We’re among your earliest and most loyal fans. Being able to help with the fan club is not just our responsibility—it’s what we love. Even though you haven’t officially returned to the scene this year, you’ve stayed active and created so much great work. Everyone is delighted and will always support you wholeheartedly,” Lin Yu said excitedly.

“Thank you, then. I’ll keep working hard,” Lin Qihua replied.

Once everyone sat down, Lin Qihua turned to Chang Yan with a smile. “It’s been months since we last met. Do you still go out to the bars to listen to music?”

“Not as much anymore,” Chang Yan replied with a charming laugh. “It’s not the same without you around, so I go less often. Instead, I’ve been dedicating more time to this fan club.”

“I never imagined you’d actually go through with it. I thought it was just a passing impulse, but you really made it happen, and it moved me deeply,” Lin Qihua said.

“To be your fan means wanting to do something for you,” Chang Yan replied. “And giving your fans a place to gather, to share your music and their lives, is something everyone enjoys. You introduced me to the group, where I made many good friends. They supported my plans enthusiastically and helped us set up the fan club earlier than expected. Thanks to Manni for authorizing us, we are now officially your fan club. ‘Morning Star’ is now our exclusive name. We’ll do our best to organize and cheer for you, to support and protect you.”

“I’m very grateful,” Lin Qihua said again. “I do have a small suggestion for the fan club. I don’t know if it’s practical, but please hear me out. If you think it could work, try it. If not, that’s fine too.”

“Please share,” the three of them said, sitting up straight. Li Zixuan picked up a smart device and began typing rapidly.

Lin Qihua exchanged a glance with Shen Manni, who then spoke. “We’ve looked closely at the current structure and functions of the fan club. A fan club is crucial for supporting an artist, but its potential is far from fully realized.”

“That’s true,” Chang Yan agreed after a moment’s thought. “Most members have jobs and careers of their own, so they can’t devote themselves fully. Plus, fans are scattered everywhere, which makes organization difficult.”

“Exactly,” Shen Manni smiled. “Other fan clubs try to strengthen themselves by having dedicated company departments to liaise and cooperate, which helps, but only to a point.”

“So you mean the company should send someone to guide us?” Chang Yan asked.

“No,” Shen Manni shook her head. “A fan club is formed out of love for an idol. People come together because of shared admiration. If the company sends someone to direct things, it risks diluting that passion, making it feel bureaucratic. I don’t think that would be effective.”

“Then what’s your suggestion?” Chang Yan asked, puzzled.

“Have you ever played online games?” Shen Manni asked with a playful smile. “In the current gaming industry, there are two main components: professional clubs composed of pro players who compete for results, and guilds in the game that support those clubs in various ways. Even if supporters are scattered across the country, under the guild’s organization, they work together to support their club.”

“I understand,” Li Zixuan chimed in. “You mean we should establish a relationship like that between a club and a guild?”

“Yes and no.” Shen Manni smiled. “Our suggestion is to do the reverse: bring the core members of the fan club into our company as employees. Your job would be to organize this fan club professionally, like a guild, planning and executing all kinds of support for Qihua. That way, your work, your passion, and your idol won’t be in conflict. We can guarantee your compensation will be at least as good as now, and you’ll have funding for various activities. As long as it benefits Qihua, you’re free to organize them. If things go well, we plan to let you handle all activity planning in the future. How far you develop is hard to say—perhaps, as Qihua’s career soars, you’ll grow into something enormous.”

The three sat there, stunned—Shen Manni’s proposal was a complete shock.

“The leadership structure of the fan club would be built by you, selected entirely from among the fans,” Shen Manni continued. “All these key members would become company employees. We could also set up regional leaders who don’t need to work in the office but organize local fan activities, enjoying the same benefits as headquarters staff. It’s like a guild with multiple branches: first division, second division, third division—expand as needed.”

“This is mind-blowing,” Lin Yu was the first to react. “To think that being a fan could land you a job—combining passion and career—what could be better?”

“In fact, this is how the current esports industry operates. The core members of gaming guilds are official club staff, working in the same place, earning high salaries, and supporting the clubs and players they love. We think this model can be transplanted to the entertainment world. Letting real fans focus on supporting their idols is our ultimate goal. Whether it works remains to be seen, but we’re willing to try. Are you?”

“Of course,” Chang Yan answered without hesitation. “I’m already tired of my current job—every day is filled with tedious tasks that go against my heart. If I can join Galaxy Entertainment, even as an office clerk, I’d be happy, just to work in the same place as my idol. And now, I can interact with and handle matters related to my idol every day and get a good salary? That’s almost too good to be true. I can hardly believe it.”

Lin Qihua and Shen Manni exchanged a smile. The idea had been suggested by Lin Qihua and perfected by Shen Manni, with the funding plan arranged by Lin Qihua as a studio under the company. When it was submitted, Yun Fengqin immediately revised it so the company would implement it as an official department, fully funding it but filling it only with fan club members nominated by Lin Qihua.

Her reasoning was this: First, she saw limitless potential in the plan. If the company succeeded, other artists could follow suit, greatly benefiting the company’s long-term development. Second, whether the plan succeeded or failed, it showed the company’s support and commitment to Lin Qihua. As long as he needed it, it would be treated as a dedicated team.

With this backing, Shen Manni felt even more confident refining the plan, leading to today’s discussion with Chang Yan and the others.

“Don’t celebrate just yet,” Lin Qihua cautioned. “There are big risks. Before, you were passive participants—wherever the artist went, you’d follow with no real burdens. Now, you’ll have to take on a lot more, requiring tighter organization and greater energy. Can your experience handle it? Can you organize more and more fans? All of this will be a challenge and require everyone to explore and adapt. There’s both risk and opportunity. But I agree with one thing: being able to turn your hobby into your job, to stand side by side with your idol—not just as a fan but as a colleague—must be a fascinating experience. If it were me, I’d never get tired of it.”

“Exactly!” Chang Yan exclaimed. “Our ‘Morning Star’ will become the brightest star in Galaxy Entertainment and the entire entertainment industry. I don’t know about anyone else, but I’ve made up my mind—I’m quitting my job as soon as I get back.”

“It does sound fascinating, and I enjoy a good challenge,” Li Zixuan said with her habitual gesture of pushing up her glasses, her calm tone belying the excitement in her words.