Chapter Seventy-Five: Praise as Mockery

To promote Huiyuan’s new album, "Romance to Death," Titan Records truly pulled out all the stops, handing out generous red envelopes to several well-known music critics in hopes they’d stir up some buzz online. In the era of digital albums, this had become a thriving business for so-called critics; whenever a singer released new work, they’d inevitably send a few tokens their way—not necessarily to buy praise, but simply to avoid malicious nitpicking and negative spins.

As a leading figure among the new wave of critics, Di Taixiao felt the thickness of the envelope and inspiration gushed forth; his fingers flew across the keyboard, and within ten minutes, a piping-hot review was ready for release.

"The greatest surprise in music this year has arrived. I originally thought Zhou Miao’s ‘Listen’ would stand unchallenged, but after hearing Huiyuan’s ‘Romance to Death,’ I realized I was wrong. The battle for this year’s best album has only just begun!"

"In the past, many criticized Huiyuan’s music for leaning too heavily on Korean influences. Yet with this album, Huiyuan has truly found his own style. I must say, this is a bold and successful experiment. I give ‘Romance to Death’ a perfect ten! Highly recommended!"

As soon as this post hit the web, Huiyuan’s fans treated it like a precious treasure, sharing it madly. It certainly piqued the curiosity of many netizens—after all, Zhou Miao’s "Listen" had already sold nearly six million copies, with both critical and commercial acclaim. Could there really be another album this year to challenge "Listen" for top spot?

So, driven by curiosity and anticipation, countless people purchased "Romance to Death," only to remove their headphones seven minutes later, utterly bewildered. Was that all? Twenty-five yuan for this? Why were there only two songs?

At that moment, the masses realized they’d been played for fools. They flooded Di Taixiao’s post with furious comments. Someone tagged Zhou Miao in the thread, and soon a swarm of people followed suit, as if children running to their parents after being bullied.

At that time, Zhou Miao was working with Ziran on the arrangement for the theme song of "Flying Sword Chasing the Moon" when Yang Xiaoya came running in. "Brother Miao, people are slandering you online!"

Zhou Miao didn’t even look up. "How are they slandering me?"

Zhou Miao had long become numb to online attacks. At first, he’d lose sleep over them, jotting down the names of his detractors in a little notebook. Now, as a seasoned artist, he felt nothing but amusement.

"They’re saying Huiyuan’s ‘Romance to Death’ is a contender for best album of the year, going up against your ‘Listen’!"

With a bang, Zhou Miao slapped the table. "Hand me my phone!"

As soon as he opened it, his notifications exploded with hundreds of unread messages and tags. He glanced at Di Taixiao’s post and snorted derisively before launching into a rapid-fire reply.

"These days, any hack can call themselves a music critic. Honestly, I don't even want to bother with these fools; all they want is attention and drama, hoping I’ll curse them out. If I comment, Di Taixiao will probably laugh himself silly."

"In the past, critics served as a bridge between professionals and the public, translating technical concepts into accessible language. Now, these so-called critics spout nonsense and empty jargon to appear profound."

"People like this are a stain on the profession. They’re no different from clickbait editors peddling sensational headlines—just clowns chasing attention and traffic."

"When you meet people like this, getting angry means you’ve already lost. Don’t argue; just agree with everything they say. ‘You’re absolutely right, you’re amazing!’"

When it came to roasting people, Zhou Miao never let his fans down. Under his comment, countless netizens lined up to echo him.

"You’re absolutely right, you’re amazing!"

"You’re absolutely right, you’re amazing!"

...

Meanwhile, the comment section for Huiyuan’s album underwent a dramatic transformation. Waves of glowing reviews poured in.

"No need to compete anymore. I declare ‘Romance to Death’ as this year’s best album!"

"Huiyuan, the strongest new-generation musician."

"Ten out of ten, highly recommended!"

...

Though all seemingly praise, there was an unmistakable sarcastic undertone to every word.

Huiyuan’s fans were both angry and helpless—what could they do, tell people to stop complimenting him? As for Di Taixiao, just as Zhou Miao predicted, he wasn’t the least bit upset by the backlash. In fact, he was delighted. In this business, the only thing to fear is silence—not criticism.

Zhou Miao enjoyed his roasting session, Di Taixiao relished being roasted; the only one left frustrated was Huiyuan, who could do nothing in the face of such backhanded praise but urge his fans to keep boosting sales. Reputation? Popularity? All illusions. Only sales were real.

But just as Zhou Miao had predicted, Huiyuan’s sales were explosive on the first day, but by the second and third, numbers plummeted, dropping off a cliff. No matter how desperately they mobilized the fans, it was impossible to squeeze out more purchases.

After all, most of his fans were still students—how much pocket money could they possibly have each month?

By the end of the first week, "Romance to Death" had grossed over eighty million yuan, breaking Huiyuan’s personal record. Yet it still trailed Zhou Miao by more than thirty million, and sales had all but stalled. The devoted fans had already bought their copies, and the general public remained unmoved. Overtaking Zhou Miao was nothing but a pipe dream.

At the New Initiatives Office of Penguin Studios, Director Xu Ye opened a PowerPoint presentation, displaying photos of more than a dozen popular artists—Zhou Miao among them.

Xu Ye sat back, fingers interlaced. "Our new show is this year’s flagship project, with a total budget of five hundred million. I hope everyone takes this seriously—our year-end bonuses depend on how many zeros are in that number."

He pointed the laser at Zhou Miao’s photo. "First of all, no matter what it takes or how much it costs, Zhou Miao must be on the show. He’s our biggest draw."

"But he’s a tough nut to crack—money and persuasion don’t work. We’ve invited him to other shows before, and he’s always turned us down as soon as he heard the word ‘variety.’ So, let’s brainstorm: is there any way to get him to agree?"

The room fell silent. Throw money at him? Tried that already. Zhou Miao refused as soon as he heard the show’s name.

After a while, a girl sitting in the corner timidly raised her hand. Xu Ye’s eyes lit up. "Wen, go ahead."

"Um, actually, I’m a fan of Zhou Miao, so I know his personality pretty well. If it’s just a straightforward invitation, whether it’s money or resources, it’s not likely to work. Unless we can invite guests who genuinely interest him."

Xu Ye stroked his chin. "You mean, invite some beautiful female celebrities? That makes sense."

Wen shook her head like a rattle drum. "No, I mean artists from Titan Records like Huiyuan, and some from Wave Entertainment."