Chapter 108: What Kind of Bizarre Song Is This?

Wang Mo stood in the middle of the office, his expression indifferent.

Liu Zhengwen tilted his head to the left, watching him. Yuan Xiong tilted his head to the right, watching him. The two men, both with their necks crooked, stared at Wang Mo with the exact same look on their faces: "Did we hear that right? Wang Mo actually wants to take this job?"

The two tilted-neck men exchanged a glance, confirming they hadn't misheard. Liu Zhengwen swallowed hard, finally struggling to speak: "Wang Mo, do you... know Cantonese?"

Wang Mo gave a goofy smile: "A little."

"A little," my foot.

Liu Zhengwen shuddered at the mere mention of those two words. He found it increasingly difficult to discern their true meaning. A few days ago, a newcomer joined the composition department. When asked about their level of skill, they said, "A little." Liu Zhengwen had been so excited he nearly jumped, thinking he’d hired a master, only to realize during the assessment that the guy really did only know a little.

Dammit...

But Yuan Xiong was even more devastated. He growled in a low voice: "I sleep with you every day, so how come I didn't know you could speak Cantonese?"

Before Wang Mo could reply, Liu Zhengwen was stunned: "Y-you two, sleep... together... every day?"

Yuan Xiong frowned: "Is there a problem?"

Huh? Is there a problem? Liu Zhengwen was completely thrown by the retort. In that split second, his mind raced through eighteen different scenarios, and he subtly moved a little further away from them: "N-no problem." Of course, he added two words internally: "...not likely."

With the order confirmed, Wang Mo soon left Liu Zhengwen's office, preparing to head home. On the way, Yuan Xiong persisted in his questioning: "Tell me the truth, when did you learn Cantonese?"

Wang Mo did know Cantonese, but it was something he had picked up in his previous life after spending three years in Guangzhou—and even then, it was only enough to manage basic communication, far from fluent. Facing Yuan Xiong's interrogation, Wang Mo replied casually: "Learned it from TV."

Learned it from TV? Yuan Xiong was stunned, but he soon recalled that lately, Wang Mo did enjoy watching original Hong Kong films. It wasn't entirely impossible. Although Yuan Xiong felt that learning Cantonese from just a few movies was absurd, he had witnessed Wang Mo's extraordinary talent before, so he found it believable. After all, one cannot judge a genius by common standards.

At some point, in Yuan Xiong's mind, Wang Mo had evolved from a handsome airhead into a genius youth. He used the "genius" label to comfort himself whenever something unreasonable happened. This, inadvertently, saved Wang Mo a lot of trouble.

...

Back home, Yuan Xiong headed straight for the kitchen. Because Wang Mo had completed the Gao Niu order, tonight's dinner was lavish. Four large crabs, two pounds of mantis shrimp, a rockfish, plus other meats and vegetables—this was the spread Yuan Xiong had bought. It was a visibly luxurious dinner.

While Yuan Xiong was busy in the kitchen, Wang Mo, sitting on the sofa, summoned the system: "System, I want to customize a song."

He then silently recited the requirement for "Cantonese Culture."

System: [Generating the most suitable song for the host... Generating...]

After about a minute, a line of text appeared: [500,000 deducted. Congratulations to the host for obtaining the song "Digital Life."]

"Digital Life?"

Seeing the title, Wang Mo felt a moment of hesitation. In his memory, he had never heard of a song by that name.

"Play song!" he commanded internally.

The next second, the melody of "Digital Life" resounded in his mind, and phantom lyrics appeared before his eyes. It was truly magical. When he first saw the lyrics, Wang Mo’s eyes widened: "There’s a song like this?"

Then, the music flooded his consciousness. One minute. Two minutes. By the time the song ended, Wang Mo had not yet recovered from the shock.

"Incredible, truly incredible. To think such a song could exist..."

After a long while, he shook his head with a sigh, his eyes filled with awe and admiration. But soon, he faced a dilemma. First: Did this song meet the official requirements of "Cantonese Culture"? While "Digital Life" was stunning, he couldn't see how it promoted Cantonese culture. Second: Wang Mo racked his brain, but couldn't think of anyone in the company who could sing this. He even expanded his search to the entire music industry and still couldn't find a suitable artist.

He wasn't too worried about the first point; he trusted that since the system provided it, it must be the most suitable choice, even if he didn't see the reason yet. But the second problem... After thinking for a long time, he still couldn't imagine who in the current music scene could handle "Digital Life."

"No way, can really no one sing this?" That was awkward. He rubbed his temples. If no one could sing it well, what was he supposed to do?

...

"Dinner's ready!" Yuan Xiong’s call pulled Wang Mo out of his thoughts.

Steamed crab, mantis shrimp with garlic vermicelli, braised rockfish, the eternal stir-fried meat with chili, and a side of oilseed greens. Five dishes. Wang Mo ate until his mouth was coated in oil.

Yuan Xiong, gnawing on a crab, asked: "I saw you deep in thought earlier. Were you thinking about the Cantonese song?"

Wang Mo nodded: "Yes."

Yuan Xiong said: "Don't tell me you've already finished it." Last time, for the Gao Niu order, Wang Mo had produced "Sour and Sweet Is Me" in the time it took to eat a meal, which had stunned Yuan Xiong. That’s why he asked.

"No," Wang Mo dared not admit he had actually finished the order; he feared it might kill Yuan Xiong from shock. He just said: "I have some ideas, but not much yet..."

Yuan Xiong nodded, feeling inexplicably relieved. That was normal. If he finished a song in one meal every single time, even a genius wouldn't be that heaven-defying. He finished his crab and reached for the second one, but to his surprise, Wang Mo snatched the last crab from the plate.

Yuan Xiong raged: "Four crabs, two for each of us. What's the logic in you eating three?"

Wang Mo happily chewed on the crab roe: "Eating too much of this raises uric acid. You're older, so eat less, or you'll get gout. I'm young and can handle it; let me bear this pain. So, I'm doing this for your own good, you know?"

"..." Yuan Xiong took a deep breath, rendered speechless.

...

Three days later, when Liu Zhengwen asked about the progress of the "Cantonese Culture" order again, Wang Mo felt it was time: "The song is written. I'll send it to your email right now, Director Liu."

"Really finished?" Liu Zhengwen was shaken that Wang Mo had actually completed the order. Soon, a new email arrived. Opening it, he found the song files—sheet music and a demo, as usual.

"The title is 'Digital Life'?" After downloading, Liu Zhengwen prepared to play the demo but glanced at the sheet music. His eyes widened.

What the hell? 30624700? 30624770? 534202 13942? Why are they all just numbers? Did your email get a virus? Did the lyrics get garbled into random digits? He rubbed his eyes and called Wang Mo: "Wang Mo, are you sure the lyrics are correct?"

Wang Mo: "Yes."

Liu Zhengwen: "But... why are they all numbers?"

Wang Mo: "The title says 'Digital Life,' so of course there are only numbers."

"..." Liu Zhengwen paused for a long time: "Brother, are you kidding me? Where is there a song made entirely of numbers? What the hell are you playing at?"

"Don't overthink it. Just listen to the song." Wang Mo hung up.

Liu Zhengwen, full of doubt, clicked on the demo. He was stunned. The seemingly random numbers were indeed the lyrics. And, surprisingly, it sounded pretty good. What shocked him most was that these numbers were sung in Cantonese, so despite how bizarre it looked, it was undeniably a Cantonese song.

He kept listening. When the chorus hit, suddenly, the electronic vocals shifted into a torrential downpour, the numbers firing out like machine-gun rounds: "0434 0434 0232 0232 0646 0646 0878 0878 0515 0515 0242 0242 0696 0696 0272 0272..."

The intense rhythm. The shocking beat. It pierced Liu Zhengwen's body and soul like a hail of bullets, leaving him standing there as if struck by lightning, unable to recover from the tingling sensation for a long time. By the time it ended, Liu Zhengwen touched his forehead to find a thin layer of sweat. Listening to a song and breaking into a sweat was an unprecedented experience.

"This kind of song... this kind of song... Wang Mo isn't just a freak; he's completely insane."

Liu Zhengwen wanted to evaluate the song, but found himself at a loss for words. He listened again. The more he listened, the more charm he found. Although it was composed of simple numbers, it was far beyond the shallow pop songs on the market. He even tried to sing a few lines himself, but nearly died on the spot—the song had an intense sense of rhythm, but the difficulty of singing it was off the charts. He didn't dare try again.

But soon, another doubt arose: Did this song meet the requirements of "Cantonese Culture"? From Liu Zhengwen’s perspective, he still couldn't see how "Digital Life" promoted the culture.

"Whatever, let's just send it over." He had developed a blind faith in Wang Mo. He believed that since Wang Mo wrote "Digital Life," there must be a deeper meaning. If he couldn't see how it promoted the culture, it wasn't the song's fault; it was his own lack of depth.

...

Guangzhou, Guangdong Province. At the official headquarters of "Cantonese Culture," in a conference room, several men in suits were meeting, their faces filled with deep concern.

The man in the gray suit at the head of the table sighed: "Is our offer too low?"

A man in a black suit shook his head: "I’ve checked the industry. 2.8 million for a song is already a top-tier offer."

The man in the gray suit frowned: "Then why have so few people accepted our order? Only a dozen composers have submitted work, and the quality is abysmal."

"This..." The others looked troubled. It was true. Since they opened the call for submissions, they had only received thirteen songs, none of which were acceptable. They were all things like: "Cantonese is good, Cantonese is great, learn Cantonese and you'll be happy," "Let the whole world speak Cantonese," "If you don't learn Cantonese, you'll regret it for life." It was all incredibly tacky.

The man in the gray suit sighed: "We called for these songs so that people would become interested in Cantonese culture after listening. But the reality is cruel. We can't even get decent songs."

Just then, the young man in charge of the submissions brightened: "Chairman, someone else submitted."

The chairman perked up: "Is it reliable?"

The young man replied: "The submitter is Yunhai Media."

"Oh!" The chairman’s expression turned excited. "Yunhai Media is one of the three giants. Their submission should be high quality. Quick! Connect the projector, let's see it."

"Yes, sir." The young man connected his computer, opened the email, and clicked on the sheet music.

A series of dense numbers appeared before them. Everyone in the room stared at the numbers and went blank.

"This..."

"What is this!"

"Are they joking?"

"Isn't this insulting?"

"This is a song written by a composer from Yunhai Media?"

Everyone looked at each other, completely baffled. The chairman, after his initial shock, was furious: "This is outrageous! Do they think that because we are an official body, we don't know music, so they can send us any trash? Do they think we're suckers? Close it!"

"Y-yes, sir." The young man scrambled to close the file, wondering how such an unprofessional work could come from Yunhai Media. Did someone impersonate them? Yes, that must be it!

Due to his nervousness, the young man accidentally clicked the demo file while closing the email. Suddenly, the song began to play. He broke into a cold sweat, trying to force the computer to shut down. But the next second, the chairman stopped him, a strange look on his face: "There's a demo? Don't turn it off, Xiao Dong. Let's listen to it first."

You all probably can't guess why I chose this song... Haha.