Chapter 34: In Deep Trouble

In no time, Xu Ze was being painted as an arrogant, self-important man with a bit of talent, someone who would stop at nothing for attention—even to the point of clinging to the fame of ancient poets. Some marketing accounts even began to question Xu Ze's character. Once again, he was thrust into the spotlight of public opinion, only this time, the attention was negative rather than positive.

At that moment, Xu Ze remained oblivious to all of this. He was in his dorm room, uploading his song "Will You Remember" to a music platform. After being featured on the show, there was no doubt the song would see a surge in downloads. He would never let a chance to make money slip by.

Just as he finished uploading the track, the system’s voice echoed in his mind. “Congratulations, host, for passing the second round. You are rewarded with Master-level piano skills and five A-grade Vocal Fruits.”

“A new mission has been issued. Please pass the third round. Completing the mission will earn you a reward.”

Xu Ze’s spirits lifted—finally, the rewards had arrived. Master-level piano skills? That sounded promising, certainly a step up from the guitar skills he’d received before. There were even songs he’d wanted to try performing with piano accompaniment.

He closed his eyes, letting the master-level piano knowledge flow into him. Suddenly, techniques and intricate details about the instrument flooded his mind, and he felt as if he’d been practicing for a decade. His fingers itched, longing to play on an actual piano.

Glancing at the keyboard in front of him, he closed his eyes and imagined it as piano keys, beginning to play in his mind. His slender fingers tapped out a rhythmic melody on the mechanical keyboard, each click resonating with a musical cadence, his head nodding to the imaginary tune. He truly resembled a pianist lost in his art.

“Xu Ze, you’re in big trouble! You—”

At that moment, his roommate, the chubby one, burst through the door, shouting as he entered. But seeing Xu Ze’s pensive figure, fingers dancing across the keyboard, the roommate’s face flickered with alarm.

“I must have opened the door the wrong way,” he muttered, quickly retreating and slamming the door shut. Then, just as suddenly, he swung it open again and shouted, “Xu Ze, you’re in big trouble!”

Xu Ze was now watching a movie on his computer, casually trimming his nails with a clipper.

Hearing his roommate’s exclamation, Xu Ze slowly turned around and asked, “What’s happened to me?”

The roommate, seeing Xu Ze’s calm demeanor, sighed internally. “So it really was just my imagination. Lately, I keep seeing things—maybe I’ve been rewarding myself too much.” But there was no time to dwell on it—this was a serious matter.

With a worried look, he said, “That Li Lianfeng who was mocking you yesterday—the vice president of the Ancient Poetry Society, the same club as our department head—he’s at it again. He just posted on Weibo, attacking you! Now the internet is full of people following his lead, some even questioning your character.”

Xu Ze frowned, but in that instant, he understood. He had overestimated Li Lianfeng’s scholarly integrity. He had thought that after hearing the song, Li might recognize that his lyrics fit perfectly with the style of “Dreaming of the Past.” Clearly, Li Lianfeng did not see it that way. Vice president of the Ancient Poetry Society? That society must not be much.

Xu Ze picked up his phone and saw that many people had messaged him. His phone had been on silent, so he hadn’t noticed. After replying to their concerns, he checked Li Lianfeng’s latest Weibo post.

In one glance, he understood the gist: “The lyrics are good, but Xu Ze as a person is not.”

“Oh, so this vice president does have some skill—he just applies it to the wrong things,” Xu Ze thought. “If he were this sharp academically, he would be president, not vice president.”

Meanwhile, Li Lianfeng was sitting with his legs crossed, gleefully refreshing his Weibo homepage.

“Ninety-two thousand! Ninety-three thousand!” he exclaimed, excitement lighting up his face as his followers surged. The pace had never been this fast before, but for some reason, several media and influencer accounts were desperately sharing his post. The buzz was growing by the second, and his followers were multiplying faster than he’d imagined.

“Maybe what I said really makes sense,” Li Lianfeng thought smugly, continuing to refresh the page.

“Ninety-six thousand! Ninety-eight! Ninety-nine!”

“One hundred thousand!” Li Lianfeng jumped from his chair, pumping his fist in triumph. From now on, he could call himself a ‘million-follower blogger.’ He recalled that line from Meng Jiao, who only passed the imperial exams at forty-six: “In the flush of spring, my horse’s hooves fly, seeing all the blossoms of Chang’an in a single day.” It perfectly captured his mood. After a lifetime of studying poetry, he had neither fame nor fortune; hardly anyone knew him. But now, everything was different. He was famous, and his followers would only grow. More and more people would want to collaborate with him. He’d thought his life would fizzle into obscurity, but unexpectedly, he’d found a new beginning in his later years.

“This Xu Ze really is my lucky star.”

Just then, his phone rang. It was Luo Haisheng, his old rival, calling. Luo was also a vice president of the Ancient Poetry Society, and the two had once quarreled bitterly over whether “Dreaming of the Past” was incomplete.

“What does that old guy want?” Li Lianfeng answered leisurely, “What do you want? I’m busy.”

“Li Lianfeng, don’t you think you’ve gone too far?” Luo Haisheng’s furious voice came through the line.

“Too far? You mean about Xu Ze?” Li Lianfeng knew exactly what Luo meant. Xu Ze was a student in Luo’s department—he hadn’t expected Luo to care so much about his student.

“Li Lianfeng! We’re not talking about anything else. If you want to debate the lyrics, debate the lyrics. Why attack Xu Ze’s character?” Luo demanded loudly.

Li Lianfeng smirked and retorted, “Did I make anything up? Wasn’t it Xu Ze himself who said his lyrics were on par with the original? I never even judged his lyrics—I just repeated his attitude. What’s the problem?”

“You shameless old man, don’t think I don’t see through you. You know full well how good Xu Ze’s lyrics are, but you just won’t admit it, all for the sake of your own pride. If you know what’s good for you, delete your Weibo post before this gets any bigger!” Luo exposed him bluntly.

“Delete my post?” Li Lianfeng raised an eyebrow, mocking him. “Are you jealous of my follower count? Forget it, I’m not deleting anything!”

As if he’d give up his tool for gaining followers—that was unthinkable.

Luo Haisheng warned, “Li Lianfeng, I gave Xu Ze’s lyrics to the president yesterday. The president and the others were very impressed. If you don’t delete your post, just wait for the president to deal with you.”

“The president?” Li Lianfeng replied indifferently, “The president can’t control me. Didn’t he say everyone’s entitled to free speech? Stop worrying—just be a good department director, wait for retirement, and collect your pension.”

With that, he hung up.

“Hmph, trying to use the president to threaten me? As if I’m afraid.” He took a sip of tea and contentedly refreshed his Weibo once more.