The dormitory arranged for Lin Chen by Xingyao Entertainment was located in a high-end apartment building in the city center. Compared to his previous daily-rate hotel, it was like another world. A spacious living room, bright floor-to-ceiling windows, a separate bedroom and bathroom, and even a small music work corner equipped with basic recording equipment. Everything seemed impeccable, a testament to the company's "high regard" for him.
But Lin Chen's first feeling upon entering wasn't warmth, but a sense of alienation from being monitored. Amy "thoughtfully" told him that for his safety and management convenience, the apartment's property management and security were handled by the company, and for easier work communication, his phone number needed to be changed to a company-issued phone with pre-installed office software.
"This is standard equipment for key artists, and it's also to better protect your privacy," Amy's smile was impeccable.
Protecting privacy? Lin Chen looked at the brand-new, expensive phone he barely knew how to use, and understood that it was more about facilitating the monitoring of his communications and social interactions. He didn't resist, silently accepting the phone as if accepting an invisible chain. The day after moving into the dorm, the intense, standardized "star-making" process began.
At nine o'clock sharp, Amy took him to a huge styling studio at the company headquarters. Several avant-garde-dressed stylists with discerning eyes surrounded him, examining him like a work of art awaiting completion.
"Your skin is okay, just too rough; it needs intensive care."
"Your hair, cut it. The current length is too outdated, it has no memorable features."
"You need to catch up on your physique immediately. You need to lose at least five kilograms to achieve a better silhouette."
"Your style needs a complete overhaul. This student-like, pastoral look won't work. You need to cultivate a 'refined youthful look,' a 'slightly melancholic artistic temperament'..."
They discussed his hair, skin, physique, clothing, even his tone of voice and gait, but no one asked him a single question: "What do you like?" He was like a silent doll, forced into a chair, his naturally curly hair, which had been with him for years, cut off; a stinging face mask was applied; and every dimension of his body was measured.
The afternoon was for media interviews. In an interview room decorated like a cozy living room, facing several influential entertainment media outlets, Amy had already "thoroughly communicated" with the reporters beforehand. The questions were all pre-prepared: about his dreams (packaged as "aspiring to move the world with music since childhood"), about his family (beautified as "poor but full of love and support"), and about his views on the competition ("focused on studies, grateful for the stage").
He only needed to repeat the "reference answers" Amy had prepared for him with a smile. When a reporter tried to follow up with questions about his original music philosophy or the previous competition controversies, Amy would immediately and skillfully interrupt, steer the conversation to a safer direction.
Every word he spoke was carefully crafted, conforming to the "hardworking, grateful, talented yet humble" persona the company had created for him. He felt like he wasn't being interviewed, but rather performing—a performance about "artist Lin Chen."
That evening, as Xingyao Entertainment's newly promoted "key artist," he was taken to a fashion brand's dinner party. Amidst the glitz and glamour of the night, where socialites, celebrities, and business tycoons mingled, Amy skillfully guided him through the crowd, introducing him to faces he had only ever seen on television and financial news.