Chapter Thirty-Four: I Rely Solely on My Looks

When Wang Mo was preparing for his livestream, outside, the video of the third-generation Foxman was being propelled by various mysterious forces, causing the topic to ferment even further and sparking intense debate across the entire internet.

"Should composers be treated merely as tools?"
"Do singers really decide everything?"
"How should we view the relationship between singers and composers?"

Such discussions pushed composers into the public eye for the first time, allowing countless netizens—who had never paid attention to composers before—to truly recognize the existence of this group.

At the same time, Wang Mo's reputation soared dramatically.

In less than ten days, his reputation shifted from minus twenty-five million to minus twenty-four million. By conservative estimates, this surge in attention earned him nearly a million reputation points!

Clearly, the power of the masses is truly invincible, Wang Mo reflected inwardly.

This wave of controversy brought him not only a windfall in reputation but also a second benefit: the public's perception of composers as mere tools had begun to waver.

As long as there's doubt, the belief is no longer deeply rooted.

Of course, the vast majority still believed: the singer is the true core, and the composer is just a tool.

"If the singer can't perform, no matter how well the song is written, it's useless."
"Those two songs only became hits because they found good singers."
"If it weren't for Hao Mingxing's unique voice, would 'Whatever' have become popular?"
"I don't deny that Silent is an excellent songwriter, but the fact remains, composers are tools."
"Unless Silent can make a third singer famous."
"Exactly—there's a saying: 'Things happen in threes.' Unless his third song can work wonders."
"If he writes a third great song and brings another singer to the top, then I'll admit the composer truly matters."
"Let's wait and see!"
"Yes, let's wait!"

Such discussions flooded the internet.

Wang Mo was certainly aware of these developments, but he wasn't bothered. Some things can't be rushed—they must be handled step by step.

Moreover, he didn't plan to release a third song anytime soon, because the day of his livestream was approaching.

Three days before the stream, Liu Zhengwen finally received an email from upper management, learning that Wang Mo was going to do a livestream. Reading the email, Liu Zhengwen turned green with frustration.

He had been counting on Wang Mo to continue writing hit songs, hoping to change the public's perception of composers. In his mind, Wang Mo was the sharpest spear in his composing department.

Now, just as the spear was being readied, the company wanted Wang Mo to run a livestream?

"No way!"

Liu Zhengwen dragged both Yuan Xiong and Wang Mo into his office and voiced his protest to Yuan Xiong: "What future is there in Wang Mo doing a livestream? He can't even show his face! His composing talent is obvious to all—not only did he make Hao Mingxing and Su Xueyao famous, but he's also gained huge benefits himself. Songwriting is where he belongs. You say he can't make money composing? That's short-sighted! When the status of composers rises, when they can stand shoulder to shoulder with singers, you'll see if people like Wang Mo make money or not! I'm telling you, by then, he'll be more sought after than any superstar!"

Yuan Xiong, facing Liu Zhengwen's aggressive stance, could only reply helplessly, "Old Liu, having Wang Mo do a livestream is a decision from upper management. It's already settled—no one can change it. As for composers one day being on equal footing with singers, maybe you're right, but that's not the case now, is it? So right now, having Wang Mo do livestreams isn't a problem. From our perspective, livestreaming is the best option for his future development.

"And as for your concern that streaming will distract him from composing, don't worry too much. Even if he streams, it will only take up a small portion of his time. He'll spend most of his time in the composing department. I've already promised him he won't have to give up composing."

Liu Zhengwen glanced at Wang Mo, who nodded to confirm Yuan Xiong's words.

Only then did Liu Zhengwen exhale deeply. "If that's the case, I can accept it. But, Wang Mo, don't let livestreaming make you forget your roots. And I've told you before, I have a daughter—she's really beautiful..."

Wang Mo looked at Liu Zhengwen's shoehorn-shaped face. He had been wavering about the livestream, but now, he made up his mind instantly: he would definitely do it.

After September ended, on the final chart, "Invisible Wings" maintained its position at number one on the New Songs Chart with three times the heat of the second-place song. It crushed the song of the rising star Ye Yuanhang.

On the first day of October, "Invisible Wings" was removed from the New Songs Chart, but immediately appeared at the top of the Hot Songs Chart.

Number one on the Hot Songs Chart!

This meant its popularity was still radiating nationwide.

Experts predicted that this song might dominate the Hot Songs Chart for another one or two months, perhaps even longer.

Especially after it became known in the industry that Su Xueyao had been invited by CCTV and the Spring Festival Gala director had extended an invitation, insiders were certain: the popularity of "Invisible Wings" would continue to rise.

"Unbelievable."
"This song's potential is extraordinary."
"Su Xueyao is likely to break into the A-list with this track."

Of course, the other song, "Whatever," was also doing well—by late September, it had also entered the Hot Songs Chart, ranking eighth.

However, the brilliance of "Invisible Wings" was so dazzling, it overshadowed "Whatever."

Yet everyone in the entertainment industry knew: for a new song to break into the Hot Songs top ten the following month was a sign of legendary potential.

Just look at Hao Mingxing's Weibo followers climbing to two million, his appearance fees rising to one hundred thousand, and the way he's being flooded with invitations to variety shows—all proof enough.

As a result, the composer "Silent," who wrote both songs, was once again the talk of the town.

Even those who firmly believed composers were just tools couldn't deny that Silent's two songs were like towering stories of gold.

Many were eager to know: When would Silent release a third song? Could it work another miracle? Would Silent single-handedly shatter the notion that composers are mere tools?

What they didn't know was that at this very moment, the Silent they so longed for was being led by Yuan Xiong across the street from Yunhai Media headquarters to another building.

Yuan Xiong pointed to a room and said, "This will be your livestream studio from now on."

Wang Mo glanced around: a livestream computer, an office chair, a microphone. Nothing else. The walls were stark white.

All that was missing was the phrase "Leniency to those who confess, severity to those who resist."

Yuan Xiong explained, "Netizens these days are sharp-eyed. To prevent them from deducing your location or identity from any clues in the room, we've made the environment as minimalistic as possible. Unless someone climbs through the internet cable, there's no way they'll figure out where you are."

Wang Mo looked genuinely impressed. Clearly, the company had covered every angle to avoid mishaps.

Yuan Xiong handed him a folder. "Tomorrow night at eight, your livestream officially begins. Inside are the contents for tomorrow's stream. Go ahead and familiarize yourself. Once the stream starts, we'll follow the script step by step to build your persona as a talented streamer."

Wang Mo glanced through the folder—it was indeed a detailed rundown of the next day's stream.

In short: After a brief introduction, he'd demonstrate his cultural knowledge by connecting with viewers online. Those who got through could ask him questions, and Wang Mo would answer.

"All the viewers you'll connect with are our staff," Yuan Xiong explained. "The answers to their questions will appear on a screen behind your computer in real time. You just need to read them aloud."

"This is outright fakery," Wang Mo pointed out.

"It has to be!" Yuan Xiong replied matter-of-factly. "You've been at the top before—don't you know that in showbiz, every celebrity persona is fake? Without fabrication, you can't build hype."

"I'm not like that," Wang Mo retorted. All he ever relied on was his looks—nothing else.

Yuan Xiong was speechless, but after a moment, he muttered resentfully, "That's why your image fell apart."