Chapter Twenty-Four: Tide Entertainment

In just a few days, Zhou Miao shot to fame with the song “Rice Fragrance.” Although there was no official recording released, snippets from the show “Metamorphosis” had spread everywhere. At first, Zhou Miao didn’t really feel the impact of his newfound fame, not until he noticed his mother scrolling through Douyin—so many videos used his voice as background music.

Internet celebrities and singers everywhere were covering “Rice Fragrance,” chasing the trend. Even the principal of his own school reposted news about Zhou Miao on his social media, adding, “This is a student from our twelfth grade.” Only then did Zhou Miao realize he was genuinely famous.

His father felt it even more keenly; many young women in his company were asking for Zhou Miao’s WeChat and phone number, brimming with enthusiasm, even joking about wanting to be his daughter-in-law.

What a bunch of animals—Zhou Miao was only sixteen!

Hong Xue, his mother, went so far as to update her Weibo bio to “Zhou Miao’s Mom,” gaining hundreds of thousands of followers in days. Every day she’d sit with her phone, posting childhood photos of Zhou Miao, listening to scores of female fans she’d never seen call her “Mother-in-law,” laughing so hard that wrinkles appeared.

But what troubled him most was Li Xueqin, who kept calling to urge him back to school. Zhou Miao tried every excuse to delay, but eventually, he couldn’t avoid it any longer and obediently went to class.

To avoid attention, he wore a baseball cap. On the way, things were fine, but as soon as he entered the classroom, chaos erupted. Even students from neighboring classes came to watch him, phones in hand, snapping photos as if he were a monkey in a zoo.

Fortunately, Li Xueqin arrived in time, helping Zhou Miao escape the swarm of enthusiastic students. He exhaled deeply, reached under Hu San’s desk, and pulled out a still-warm pancake. While Li Xueqin spoke up front, Zhou Miao munched away below.

Hu San rested her chin in her hand, smiling at him. “How does the superstar find time for school today?”

“I wanted to stay home a bit longer, but Li Xueqin kept nagging. I couldn’t stall any more.”

“We’ve started evening self-study lately. School doesn’t end till nine now.”

“Damn!”

By noon, the entire school knew Zhou Miao was back. No matter where he went, people stared. Even in the restroom, those beside him would light up with delight, as if to say, “You came here in person!”

It was enough to drive Zhou Miao crazy. Thankfully, after about a week, everyone got used to him being a celebrity, and his life finally returned to peace.

That evening, riding his bicycle home after school, as he neared his residential complex, a man approached from the roadside and handed him a small card. “Hello, I’m…”

“No need, thank you.” Zhou Miao didn’t stop for a second, riding past and stirring a gentle breeze.

The man stood frozen, staring at the card in his hand in confusion. Did he really look like a salesman?

Unwilling to give up, he followed Zhou Miao, but was stopped at the gate by security. The man pointed at Zhou Miao’s back. “I’m his friend, I need to speak with him.”

The security guard, expressionless but polite, replied, “If you know the resident, please have him call the guard’s office.”

“If I had his number, would I be waiting here?” he thought. With no other option, he slunk away.

The guard snorted coldly. Clearly not someone trustworthy—trying to sneak in?

The next day, the man went straight to Zhou Miao’s school to catch him. As Zhou Miao exited the school gate, the man hurried over, this time grabbing the handlebars of Zhou Miao’s bike.

Zhou Miao frowned. “Who are you? What do you want?”

The man apologized, releasing his grip and handing over a card. “Sorry, we met last night. You left too quickly for introductions. I’m Luo Wei, an artist manager from Wave Entertainment. Here’s my card.”

Zhou Miao glanced at it. “Sorry, not interested.” With that, he rode away.

Luo Wei’s face darkened; the card in his hand was crushed and thrown to the ground. He loosened his tie and lit a cigarette.

As a manager for one of the top ten record companies in the entertainment industry, it had been ages since someone spoke to him like this. If the company didn’t value Zhou Miao so highly, he’d never have come in person.

He barely finished two drags before crushing the cigarette underfoot. He decided to change tactics and go straight to Zhou Miao’s father next—the brat was infuriating.

Early the next morning, Luo Wei entered Zhou Ye’s company. The beautiful receptionist asked, “Hello, how may I help you?”

“I’m an artist manager from Wave Entertainment. I need to speak with your boss.”

She immediately understood his purpose. “Do you have an appointment?”

“Uh, no, but could you call him? I have something important to discuss.”

“Certainly, please wait.” She dialed Zhou Ye’s office, explained the situation, and soon ended the call.

She smiled politely. “I’m sorry, our boss said he’s not interested. Thank you.”

Luo Wei was stunned. Had he misheard? “What did he say?”

“Not interested. Thank you,” she repeated kindly.

Luo Wei laughed bitterly, nodding hard. “Fine!” He turned and left.

In his office, Zhou Ye rubbed his temples in frustration. In recent days, more than a dozen entertainment companies, large and small, had approached him, all wanting to sign Zhou Miao.

The offers were good; Zhou Miao already had fame, and his abilities were exceptional. If they offered him a rookie contract, it would be treating his family as fools.

Yet Zhou Miao had declined them all. Despite generous terms, the contracts offered little freedom. If he signed, he’d be forced to follow the company’s development path: variety shows, magazine shoots, endorsements, commercial performances, acting in dramas—music plans were few and far between.

In this day and age, making money through music was harder than ever, or at least impossible to make serious money, which conflicted with the entertainment companies’ interests.

So Zhou Miao decided not to consider these offers for now. If it came to it, he’d simply start his own studio—much more free that way.

Just then, Zhou Miao received an unexpected call.

Curious, he answered. “Brother Kuan? What made you call today?”

“I’m in Suzhou. Does the superstar have time? Dinner’s on me.” Zhang Liangkuan’s raspy voice came through.

Zhou Miao laughed. “Others ask and I’m busy, but for you, I’ll always make time.”

“Haha, great. Seven tonight at Harmony Sushi, Guanqian Street.”

“Alright.” Hanging up, Zhou Miao rubbed his chin. He had a feeling… Brother Kuan was here specifically to see him.