Sometimes, those caught in the thick of things can't see the forest for the trees, while outsiders have a clearer perspective. This is especially true for couples in love.
After hearing Shen Lang's words, Wang Cheng suddenly realized the truth. Only one thought remained in his mind: I need to call her!
Beep... beep... beep...
Well, he just hung up on the radio station.
Shen Lang frowned.
This...
"Seven years of Midnight Melodies, our genuine feelings unchanged. That's all for tonight's show. Join us next Sunday at midnight on Yanjing Music Radio, FM 97.4 MHz or Cable FM 94.6 MHz, for our unwavering rendezvous."
The sign-off.
The end.
Shen Lang removed his monitor headphones, set aside his guitar, and the smile on his face instantly turned serious.
Time to face the music.
He walked out of the broadcasting booth.
Shen Lang looked up and met the astonished gazes of Wu Zhoutong, Zhao Xue, and Zhang Zhong.
Wu Zhoutong had returned just in time to hear the second verse of "Lonely Sandbank Cold."
He'd overheard Zhang Zhong's explanation in the restroom and rushed out, fearing Shen Lang would ruin his show.
Yet...
When Wu Zhoutong pushed open the studio door, he heard a heartfelt song, a deeply moving melody.
Surprise, delight, and astonishment washed over him in equal measure.
Wu Zhoutong had always thought Shen Lang was just an ordinary recent college graduate from the Broadcasting Department, but he turned out to be a deeply hidden musical prodigy.
"Brother Wu, I'm sorry for taking the liberty of performing my own song," Shen Lang said directly, acknowledging his mistake.
"You..." Wu Zhoutong started to speak, then paused. After a few seconds, he slowly approached Shen Lang, placed a hand on his shoulder, and said with a smile, "You did great. No need to apologize. Have you forgotten what I said in the meeting? We want to move listeners with genuine emotion through our songs. Look at them—you had them weeping and deeply moved."
Shen Lang froze, stunned by the praise.
Zhao Xue and Zhang Zhong, who were standing nearby, realized he was right. Although Shen Lang's performance hadn't followed the plan, it hadn't compromised the show's original purpose.
"I never expected you could not only sing but also write songs," Wu Zhoutong chuckled.
"I've loved music since I was a kid. I applied to the wrong university at first, but then I thought the Broadcasting Department's job placement prospects were pretty good, so I didn't switch," Shen Lang replied, half-truthfully.
"..." Wu Zhoutong, Zhao Xue, and Zhang Zhong stared at him.
How could you apply to the wrong department?
But then they reconsidered. It made sense.
There were tens of thousands of Beijing Drifter Singers, but only a handful ever made it big.
Getting a job at a radio or television station meant securing an "iron rice bowl" once you passed probation, provided you weren't completely incompetent.
After all, survival came first. Only by ensuring your own survival could you have the chance to pursue your dreams.
"Alright, everyone's worked hard today. Go home and get some rest," Wu Zhoutong said, not lingering on the matter. It was getting late. "And help brainstorm ideas to boost our show's listenership."
"Roger!"
"Finally, the weekend!"
"Goodbye, Brother Wu, Sister Zhao, Brother Zhang!"
Shen Lang let out a long breath and began packing up his things.
He exited the Broadcasting Building.
Yanjing at dawn was quiet and profound. The starry sky stretched like a deep, dark painting, while the streets glowed under the streetlights.
Compared to the bustling metropolis it would become twenty years later, this Yanjing possessed a tranquil serenity.
At this hour, the buses and subways had stopped running.
Taxis remained the only option, with fares varying from 1.0 to 2.0 yuan per kilometer depending on the model.
For Shen Lang, who wasn't well-off, taking a taxi was a luxury.
He went to the bicycle shed downstairs, pulled out his 28-inch rod brake bicycle—his daily mode of transportation.
The original owner had bought it during college, spending a considerable sum.
Its quality was excellent; after more than four years of riding, it hadn't given him a single problem.
The Yanjing Broadcasting Building stood between the Second and Third Ring Roads, while Shen Lang's rented basement apartment was located in an urban village at the intersection of the Third and Fourth Ring Roads.
The distance was about ten kilometers, a ride that took over half an hour.
"Rushing, hurrying, why is life always like this? Could it be that my ideal is to spend my entire life this way..."
Humming a song, Shen Lang weaved through the streets of Yanjing on his bicycle.
His previous impressions of the capital city had been of the Big Pants Building (CCTV HQ), Sanlitun, and Wudaokou Center of the Universe...
The Xidan Commercial District, the Guomao CBD, and the Zhongguancun IT Hub...
But after moving here, he realized that beneath the city's dazzling facade, hidden behind towering skyscrapers, lay countless urban villages.
Yanjing's six urban districts housed approximately two hundred such urban villages, home to migrant workers from across the country.
"Who says that settling in a foreign land can't make it feel like home?" This was the slogan plastered on the exterior wall of the apartment building in the urban village where Shen Lang lived.
As for the environment, a complex and unpleasant odor greeted visitors upon entering the village.
It was a place of filth, disorder, safety hazards, and illegal constructions.
But it was cheap, and that single advantage overshadowed all its flaws.
This place allowed countless newcomers to shuttle between the city and the village, striving for their dreams and livelihoods.
Shen Lang struggled to carry his 28-inch rod brake bicycle down to the basement.
There was no way to leave it outside.
No number of locks would deter thieves.
"Whew~"
Shen Lang leaned back in his chair, trying to shake off the day's exhaustion.
The basement, which could be surveyed in a single glance, contained only a bed, a table, a cabinet, a guitar, and a recorder.
A poster of the four members of the Beyond Band hung on the wall above the bed.
Wong Ka Kui was Shen Lang's favorite singer. His lifelong passion for music, which led him to become a music teacher in his previous life, had all been inspired by Wong.
After resting for a while, Shen Lang washed up and went to bed.
Since Midnight Melodies aired on Sundays and required Saturday preparations, their days off became Mondays and Tuesdays.
He relished the rare opportunity to sleep in, waking up at nine.
He went for a half-hour run and then practiced lifting his 28-inch rod brake bicycle for fifteen minutes—a routine he'd maintained since transmigrating over a month ago.
A healthy body was the foundation of everything.
On his days off, Shen Lang rarely left the basement.
After breakfast, he retrieved his notebook from the cabinet.
It contained thirty songs from after the year 2000.
His slow progress wasn't due to memory; if he wrote freely, he'd easily have over a hundred songs by now.
The problem was copyright registration. Writing too many songs risked losing the notebook and causing complications.
In other words, all thirty songs had already been successfully copyrighted at the Copyright Bureau.
Shen Lang picked up his fountain pen. First, he wrote down Lonely Sandbank Cold, the song he'd performed the previous night. Then, he added two more to reach three, planning to register them at the Copyright Bureau that afternoon.
At the same time, in the Yanjing Broadcasting Building, the telephone operators handling the hotline for the music radio station were swamped.
"Hello, this is Yanjing Music Radio. How can I help you?"
"Hello, I'd like to ask about the song 'Lonely Sandbank Cold' that the host sang during last night's live broadcast of Midnight Melodies. Where can I listen to it?"
"This issue has already been reported to our superiors. Unfortunately, the song isn't available for listening at the moment."
"Ah? Not available? It was such a beautiful song! Will the program be rebroadcast?"
"No, it won't."
"Sigh..."
Wu Qian hung up the phone.
This was the tenth call she'd received today with the same question.
She wasn't a regular listener of Midnight Melodies, so she didn't know exactly what had happened the previous night.
But after some inquiries, she learned that Wu Zhoutong's assistant, Shen Lang, had sung a song he wrote himself on the show, leaving the listener who requested it in tears.
The song was said to be incredibly beautiful and deeply moving.
It made her want to hear Lonely Sandbank Cold for herself to find out what kind of song it really was.