Chapter 87: Ah! What a Coincidence

At six o’clock in the evening, the show was about to begin recording.

The previously empty audience seats were gradually filling up, and among the crowd, one group stood out conspicuously. They sat together in a designated area, all wearing matching outfits emblazoned with a person’s portrait. In the first row, they held placards that would be raised in unison during the recording to form a complete sentence, while the second row waved blue support sticks. Over a hundred people sat there, perfectly aligned, their presence striking and memorable.

“Whose fans are those? That’s interesting,” other audience members whispered, curious.

“This production team is so stingy, only a hundred spots for us,” Chang Yan complained to He Yanlin, sitting in the front row.

“It can’t be helped,” He Yanlin replied with a smile. “There are only so many seats, and all the artists’ fans have to share. It’s impossible to give them all to us.” Working at “Morning Star” now, the company entrusted her and her colleagues with full autonomy. With ample funding and freedom, she could bring many of her own ideas to life, and it was truly exhilarating. More importantly, as a fan of Lin Qihua—though not as fervent as Chang Yan—being able to stay close to her idol, support him, and grow together with him was a wonderful feeling.

“The scene isn’t grand enough. I’d love to see the whole audience singing our team’s anthem together!” Chang Yan murmured. “Qihua promised to compose it, but he’s been busy lately, so who knows when it’ll be ready.”

“Don’t worry, everything is just beginning,” He Yanlin comforted her.

Xiangzhou TV was indeed a top-tier national media outlet, and the waiting area prepared for the artists pleasantly surprised Lin Qihua. After preparing backstage, he arrived at the holding area—a stylish lounge bar setting, with small round tables and sofas scattered about. On either side stood massive bookshelves filled with an array of books. By the window, a girl in traditional dress played the zither, her fingers dancing and filling the room with beautiful music.

“It’s really unexpected,” Lin Qihua remarked, scanning the scene. Still, since the early 21st century, there had been a revival of classical culture, so such attire was not unusual, though seeing it at Xiangzhou TV felt a little odd.

Shen Manni and Ma Xiaoqian entered briefly before leaving for another resting area. Most of those seated here were staff or artists preparing for tonight’s show. Among them, a group dressed in eye-catching dance costumes could only be Xiangzhou TV’s renowned dance troupe—active across many programs, popular, and a launchpad for many artists.

Lin Qihua found a book on the shelf and sat down. A waiter immediately approached to ask what drink he’d like. He ordered a cup of green tea and, immersed in the gentle music, savored his book. It felt as though he’d returned to the days when his father accompanied him in the study, practicing calligraphy and reading—a familiar comfort.

Lost in reverie, he was suddenly interrupted by a familiar voice at his ear. “Qihua.”

Lin Qihua felt as if struck by lightning. He looked up to see a face he knew so well—one that often appeared in his dreams—Zhao Wanting.

Gazing at her radiant features, Lin Qihua felt his throat go dry, unsure what to say. Rising awkwardly, he managed to squeeze out, “Ah? What a coincidence. Long time no see.”

“Yes, it’s been a while,” Zhao Wanting replied softly, tucking a stray lock behind her ear—a gesture Lin Qihua recognized. She always did this when she was nervous or uneasy.

Feeling suddenly at ease, Lin Qihua smiled. “Are you here for tonight’s recording too?”

“Yes.” Zhao Wanting saw his tense expression relax and felt a surge of emotion she could not quite name. She forced a smile. “It’s for the film’s promotion.”

“Oh,” Lin Qihua nodded. Zhao Wanting’s main focus was film and television, and she was highly talented. Tonight must be for her project’s promotion.

Coincidence? Lin Qihua didn’t believe the production team was entirely innocent in their arrangements.

“By the way, congratulations on your successful comeback,” Zhao Wanting smiled. “The Singer show was excellent—I watched it too.”

“Thank you, it was just luck,” Lin Qihua replied with a laugh. “And I should congratulate you as well. You moved up to the second tier much earlier and faster than the rest of us.”

Zhao Wanting’s debut brought her several roles, mostly supporting, but they gave her enough screen time and exposure. Last year she successfully played the second lead in a drama, propelling her into the ranks of second-tier actors—far ahead of her peers. That’s why artists need backing, Lin Qihua thought, and perhaps why she’d entrusted herself to Guo Shaohuai. Suddenly, everything became clear. Looking at her now, her beauty seemed gentler, and the things that once troubled him became mere memories.

Zhao Wanting sensed the shift in Lin Qihua’s mood, about to speak, but another voice suddenly cut in.

“Lin Qihua, stay away from my artist.”

Startled by the angry tone, Lin Qihua turned to see a short-haired middle-aged woman approaching, her face full of fury.

“Fen, it’s not like that,” Zhao Wanting’s face flashed with embarrassment and unease as she stepped forward to speak softly.

“Hmph,” Fen was unmoved. She strode up to Lin Qihua, glaring fiercely. “Don’t think that just because you’ve had a little success and made a comeback you can come back and pester Wanting. You’re really something—knowing she’s here for the recording and finding an opportunity to approach her.”

Lin Qihua turned to Zhao Wanting. “Is this your agent?”

Zhao Wanting nodded awkwardly, trying to calm Fen.

“Don’t pull me,” Fen said loudly. “I’m your agent, I’m responsible for you. This kind of person—so what if he’s achieved a little? He’s still a minor artist. You must remember, you’re not him. You have boundless prospects, about to soar. How could you let him entangle you? What if a scandal breaks out?”

Turning on Lin Qihua, she scolded, “I don’t care how you got this information, but I’m telling you, don’t think you can cling to Wanting. She’s a phoenix soaring high, you have nothing to do with her—never have, never will. If you dare step out of line, I won’t let you off, nor will Guo Shao, and Huayi won’t treat you kindly either.”

“Damn.” Lu Zhixuan suddenly appeared, slinging an arm around Lin Qihua’s shoulders. “Where did this shrew come from, yelling in here?”

“Who are you?” Fen, caught up in her tirade, didn’t bother to look closely, retorting rudely and missing the anxious look on Zhao Wanting’s face as she greeted the newcomer.

“I—” Lu Zhixuan’s expression shifted, about to explode.

“Move aside.” At that moment, a heavenly voice sounded from behind Fen.

Instantly, Fen’s aggression melted away like snow.