Chapter 2: A Marvelous Encounter

Brother Bao said, “This really is quite unexpected. No one imagined that guy would have such drawing power. I bet all those viewers just came for the spectacle, to see the excitement and then leave. When our show first invited him, we weren’t thinking about ratings at all—Director Luo only brought him in as a last resort.”

“As a last resort?”

“When the team signed the contract with Li Xuan for this season, they attached a condition: Zhang Qiyang had to be included in the show. Apparently, a high-ranking executive from Oriental Group personally asked our title sponsor to pressure the station, insisting we give Zhang Qiyang a spot. At first, they demanded he join as one of the main contestants. Director Luo endured immense pressure and after a long negotiation, only managed to secure him the role of challenger.”

“With his pathetic skills, he’s not even fit to be a challenger! Can’t he just sing and get lost? Having him perform on our stage is an insult—he’d better not stick around.”

“Oh, he wants to stay, all right. Didn’t you notice how hard the other singers went tonight? Except for Li Xuan, who obviously went easy and didn’t sing her best, the others gave it their all just to kick that trash off the show. None of them want to compete on the same stage as him.”

“Who knows how the audience will vote? There’s so many new faces tonight—if they vote for that trash, it’ll be a disaster.”

“Vote? Please. Those people are just here for the show. Anyone with a brain wouldn’t give him a vote. Everyone’s waiting to see him make a fool of himself. I’d bet anything he’ll come in dead last.”

“That’s right, he’s a total idiot! If his dad weren’t the richest man in the country, he’d have been beaten to death a thousand times by now!” The young staffer’s resentment was so twisted it bordered on a hatred for the wealthy itself.

Inside the stall, Zhang Qiyang listened to their conversation, fuming with rage. If not for his stomach threatening to explode, he would have stormed out to confront them right then and there.

But then, on second thought, he realized they were talking about the old Zhang Qiyang, not the person he was now. There was no need to let himself get worked up over their words.

The old Zhang Qiyang really had been reckless and thoughtless in his actions.

Yet that guy had his moments of innocence and charm; he wasn’t a complete fool through and through.

As the child of the country’s wealthiest man, he’d been a well-mannered boy before his mother’s fatal car accident. He was sent to a British boarding school in middle school, his mother accompanying him the whole time. After high school, he received an acceptance letter from Cambridge—his future was as bright as could be.

But on the eve of entering Cambridge, his mother was killed in a car crash. He witnessed her being struck and thrown by the car—it was a blow he could never get over. She died in his arms.

The pain was unbearable.

From that moment, he lost all direction and spiraled into self-destruction.

It was then that he became obsessed with British rock music.

Only when drunk and lost in the pounding rhythms did he feel any relief from his pain.

He barely lasted two years at Cambridge before being expelled for absenteeism and fighting.

After returning home, he showed no signs of recovery.

His fixation on rock music led him to fall out with his family, declare himself an independent artist, and force his way into the entertainment industry.

In three years, he accomplished nothing but offending people left and right.

Especially in his self-proclaimed field of rock, his efforts were a complete disaster. Rock became his outlet for darkness and bitterness; every song he wrote was steeped in cynicism and despair, as if he wished to bury the world and drag everyone down with him.

To outsiders, the richest man’s son was pure trash—aside from his blunt honesty, there was nothing redeeming about him.

But as Zhang Qiyang absorbed the other’s memories, he discovered traces of humanity beneath the surface.

For one, the guy was tough as nails.

After breaking with his father, he never spent another cent of family money. Every expense in his career was earned on his own.

But honestly, the only reason he could make money in showbiz was thanks to his background. Every opportunity and paycheck was built on the family name.

Saying he earned it himself wasn’t much different from his family handing it to him.

Still, he didn’t squander it all away.

Though he loved to flaunt his wealth and spend recklessly, treating money as dirt, at least half of what he threw around ended up anonymously donated to charity and crowdfunding campaigns.

Those donations saved dozens of lives.

That rare kindness was the only sunlight in his otherwise shadowed life.

But those rays of light never pierced the gloom in his heart.

After drifting aimlessly for so long, he finally ran himself into the ground—literally.

At last, he was free, no longer forced to drag his weary body through a half-lived life.

Now, he could reunite with his mother in another world.

As for the body and mess he left behind, it was up to the new Zhang Qiyang to clean up.

Outside, the two staffers finished up, still mocking him as they washed their hands.

Brother Bao said, “Just wait and see him embarrass himself. I watched his rehearsal this afternoon—what on earth was that? Let’s hope he doesn’t tank our ratings.”

The younger staffer replied, “I just hope that trash is gone soon.”

They left the restroom laughing and chatting.

Inside the stall, Zhang Qiyang gritted his teeth, butt still burning as if scorched, and muttered through clenched teeth, “You want me gone? Dream on!”

After much suffering, his stomach finally settled.

At last, having finished his business, Zhang Qiyang hobbled out of the stall.

He stood before the sink where those two staffers had just been.

Looking into the mirror at the pale, slender young man staring back, Zhang Qiyang felt a sense of disorientation.

In his previous life, Zhang Qiyang had been a 34-year-old web novelist.

Years of writing at home had left his body soft and overweight—a bearded, chubby uncle.

But the youth in the mirror sported a bold pompadour, a lean face, and a trace of lingering sickness and desolation in his expression—a strikingly distinctive young man, undeniably handsome.

Forget the status of being the richest man’s son—just inhabiting a body more than a decade younger than his old one was enough to thrill him.

He’d always written entertainment novels.

He’d majored in directing at university, passionate about the arts, but after years struggling in the industry with no success and no prospects, he’d stumbled into the world of online fiction.

He wrote for five years.

Along the way, he created countless protagonists who strutted through life without limits, basking in their own glory.

He never expected that today, the miracle of transmigration would happen to him.

It was so sudden, so magical, he could hardly believe his own eyes!

“Damn, am I dreaming?”

He bit down hard on the back of his hand.

Ouch! It stung like fire!

But Zhang Qiyang’s heart surged with joy!

He’d plotted countless moments of swagger and triumph for his protagonists, reveling in their imagined victories.

But those were fiction—fantasy, make-believe.

Now, at last, he could experience this exhilarating life for himself.

This time, it was for real!

Taking a deep breath, he pressed a finger to the mirror, pointing at his own reflection, and declared with uncontainable excitement, “This life, I’ll make it more dazzling than any novel!”