Chapter 118: A Silhouette That Sparked Madness

It seemed Xu Mengqi had long been prepared. No wonder, as a reigning film queen, she was usually swamped with work yet had deliberately carved out time to come to Mo City and invite him to dinner.

Wang Mo took the document and glanced over it. It mainly outlined several points:

First, if both parties confirmed the collaboration, Xu Mengqi must unconditionally support Wang Mo’s comeback.

Second, within a year, Wang Mo was to compose at least three songs for Xu Mengqi.

Third, before Wang Mo’s official return, all revenue from the songs he wrote for Xu Mengqi would belong solely to him.

Fourth, if Xu Mengqi reneged, Wang Mo could reclaim all copyrights to the songs at any time.

These four points effectively placed Wang Mo in an invincible position in this collaboration.

This revealed just how eager Xu Mengqi was to break into the music scene.

Yet Wang Mo did not hastily agree. He read through the document carefully before saying, “Sister Qi, from my heart, I’m willing to cooperate with you. However, I don’t have the final say; the company must decide.”

Xu Mengqi smiled. “As long as you agree, there will be no problem.”

Clearly, she was supremely confident about this collaboration.

After dinner, the two left the restaurant silently.

Back home, Wang Mo immediately called Yuan Xiong over, recounted the details of Xu Mengqi’s proposal, and handed him the document.

Yuan Xiong perused it, a look of delight spreading across his face. “There’s no need to hesitate with this kind of deal — just say yes.”

Wang Mo was puzzled. “With terms like these, shouldn’t Xu Mengqi be the one at a loss? Why would she give up such huge benefits just to ask me for three songs?”

Yuan Xiong looked at Wang Mo seriously before replying in a low voice, “It’s all about perspective. From where she stands, she’s not losing at all.”

Wang Mo frowned.

Yuan Xiong explained, “First, given Xu Mengqi’s status, the earnings from two or three songs are negligible to her — giving them all to you doesn’t hurt her. As for supporting your comeback, that’s just a small favor; your return doesn’t violate ethics or official regulations, so it poses no real difficulty for her. Essentially, what she’s truly offering is potential resources if you venture into the film industry later.”

“So, her investment is minimal.”

“Meanwhile, through your ‘silent’ three songs, she can break into the music world. If those songs are good enough and backed by capital operations, she could quickly ascend to become a music queen.”

“Having both the film queen and the music queen titles combined would make Xu Mengqi a true reigning queen of the entertainment industry.”

“If she can really pull this off, imagine the fame and fortune she would gain.”

“Do you still think she’s at a loss in this deal?”

Wang Mo fell silent for a long time. Eventually, he rubbed his head and sighed, “I’m still too naive.”

Yuan Xiong said, “That’s why it’s a win-win partnership. Leave the rest to me; you just focus on writing the songs.”

Wang Mo nodded.

Three songs — that was simple enough.

***

Within Yunhai Media, the collaboration between Wang Mo and Xu Mengqi was classified as top secret. Apart from a handful of executives, no one else knew the details.

Meanwhile, outside, all eyes remained fixated on one matter.

As time passed, “Eternal Fate” grew ever more popular, sparking a nationwide viewing frenzy.

The drama repeatedly shattered its own viewership records this year, shining like no other.

The ending theme song “Peach Blossom Promise,” sung by Xu Mengqi, also soared in popularity, its melody omnipresent online.

Even the theme song “Chasing Dreams of the Nine Heavens,” which had initially received lukewarm feedback, gained traction, at times threatening Ye Yuanhang’s “Against the Current” on the new song charts. Thankfully, Canxing Culture ramped up promotion to secure Ye Yuanhang’s second place.

Otherwise, Ye Yuanhang might have been utterly humiliated this time.

That night, countless “Eternal Fate” fans gathered in front of their TVs, each fervently discussing in their circles.

“Ahhh, tonight’s the big climax!”

“I can’t wait. Let’s start already!”

“Tonight, Lu Qian’s master will finally appear. So excited!”

“So Lu Qian isn’t really without backing — his master is incredibly powerful!”

“Lu Ling is finally saved.”

“Lu Qian has such a formidable master? Why didn’t they say anything before? They just watched Lu Ling get abducted.”

“...”

The audience’s excitement was due to the drama reaching its first major turning point after two weeks of airing.

In the story, the heroine Lu Ling was kidnapped by the villain. The hero Lu Qian was powerless and, in desperation, returned to his immortal sect seeking help. But he could no longer find the path back; having left the sect without permission, he was expelled.

Helpless, he knelt at the foot of Thunder Immortal Mountain for seven days and nights, bleeding from all orifices, until his master’s heart softened and agreed to meet him.

Tonight was the night Lu Qian’s master would finally appear.

Only then did many realize how powerful Lu Qian’s sect was, their anticipation mounting.

At eight o’clock, “Eternal Fate” officially aired.

“It’s starting.”

“Here it comes.”

“So thrilling.”

On screen:

Dark night, raging wind and rain.

Lu Qian still knelt beneath Thunder Immortal Mountain, its towering peak striking awe into the heart.

Mist swirled around the summit, with massive bolts of lightning flashing, carrying a terrifying heavenly power. Any mortal touched by it would be instantly reduced to ash.

Under such immense pressure, Lu Qian’s body was battered and bloodied.

Yet his eyes shone with determination.

He knelt repeatedly, bowing his head: “Master, please save Ling’er’s life. I’m willing to exchange my own.”

At last, just as despair was about to overwhelm him, a clear, reluctant voice sounded beside him:

“Since you left the sect without permission, your path as an immortal is severed. Why do you come today? Fine, fine. You are still my disciple — today I will meet you one last time and sever our master-disciple bond completely.”

“Master!” Lu Qian’s eyes brightened as he kowtowed repeatedly.

The storm suddenly ceased. The dark sky rapidly cleared, revealing a vast expanse of stars.

In the midst of the stars hung a giant, bright full moon.

Beneath the moon appeared an ethereal, imposing mountain peak, radiating an overwhelming aura.

This breathtaking scene stirred many hearts.

“So beautiful.”

“Just like a fairyland.”

“This is why I love this drama — every detail surprises me.”

As many marveled at the exquisite visuals, suddenly, high above the heavens, a figure drifted down lightly, silhouetted against the moon, standing proudly atop the peak.

The Immortal at the Peak!

In an instant, millions watching froze.

Almost everyone’s eyes revealed intense shock.

Because to them, this figure on screen did not seem played by an actor — it was a genuine immortal!

Though only a back view, the urge to worship was overwhelming.

Mysterious.

Powerful.

Profound.

Transcendent.

Standing motionless atop the peak, though small and distant, the figure seemed unattainable and otherworldly, inspiring awe.

To them, this was no actor — this was a true immortal.

The aura this one person emitted was even more imposing than the mountain itself, filling the entire scene.

Just standing there, it felt as if the whole universe resided within him.

The formidable energy and pressure seemed to pierce through the screen, causing every heart to tremble.

“Truly… an immortal?”

“Is this for real?”

“Mom, come see the immortal!”

“Oh my god, facing that figure, I feel like kneeling.”

“Same here. There’s an inexplicable pressure that makes me afraid to look directly.”

“I’ve never felt anything like this.”

“Oh my god, unbelievable.”

“I’m stunned.”

“What’s going on?”

“Even though I know it’s fake, why does this silhouette feel so intimidating?”

“It’s the first time I’ve felt such pressure from just a back view.”

“Hallucination, it’s all a hallucination.”

“...”

On screen, after seeing the immortal, Lu Qian’s eyes shone with emotion. Facing the figure’s back, he knelt, bowing repeatedly with tears streaming down his face:

“Master, please save Ling’er. I accept any punishment.”

The actor playing Lu Qian delivered a powerful performance, filled with sincerity, despair, and resolve.

Yet nearly everyone watching instinctively ignored Lu Qian’s acting, their gazes fixed solely on that silhouette.

Shock.

Confusion.

Trembling.

Puzzlement.

The figure remained motionless, yet every viewer felt their chest tighten, as if suffocating.

In the void, a voice thundered in Lu Qian’s ear: “Leave. There is no need to come again.”

Then, the figure atop the peak gradually vanished.

The moon and stars above were quickly shrouded by dark clouds. Thunder roared and torrential rain resumed.

Lu Qian, still kneeling, stared blankly at the disappearing mountain and master, then at his fully healed wounds, and at the faint sparkle that suddenly appeared deep within his heart.

He stood there dazed for a long moment before bowing deeply three times and walking away.

Only then did the viewers feel the inexplicable pressure lift.

Recalling the immortal’s silhouette, it seemed like a dream.

Many sat frozen before their TVs, their minds consumed by that image, unable to recover.

Some couldn’t continue watching, hastily sharing their feelings on social media.

But upon logging on, they discovered every platform — Bilibili, Weibo, Douyin, WeChat — had already descended into chaos.

(Based on this chapter)