This Star Only Wants More Money - Chapter 13
Translator: Diviner
Xu Feng’s account, which he had just registered not long ago, had already gathered nearly 100,000 followers.
Clicking into the comment section, the top comments were mostly GIFs of Xu Feng performing on stage or praises for his song.
“Hey, man, when are you releasing the studio version? The live version doesn’t sound as good with all that noise.”
“The bass isn’t really suited for solos; give us a full version to really enjoy it!”
“Why did you quit the show? Can you give us some hints?”
“The most good-looking mentor paired with the most good-looking contestant… What a pity you withdrew. It’s a bit of a regret.”
“It’s hard to say, but you can see Xu Feng isn’t backed by a management company, get it?”
“It’s okay. My brother Xu Feng is awesome. He can go solo. Just make sure to protect your copyright.”
“This show’s production team has already had quite a few scandals exposed. Xu Feng, we don’t mix with them!”
“I’m on the fence. Many singers reach their peak as soon as they debut. Xu Feng might have started with a bang, but he could end up like others who faded away.”
“On the contrary, I think he has potential. He’s young, full of creative inspiration and energy.”
“Xu Feng, is Sister Huan even more beautiful in real life than in the photos?”
“Is there a fan group? Start a fan group!”
“Hey handsome, are you single? I’m 5’7”, weigh 100 pounds, curvy and feminine, interested in you. Give me a chance. The way you played the guitar was so cool!”
“Sis, is it possible that Xu Feng was playing the bass, not the guitar?”
“Oh, so the handsome guy even gave his guitar a name? How sweet.”
“Hopeless, take her away, next one.”
Xu Feng casually scrolled through the comments on the sofa, feeling indifferent.
He wasn’t in a hurry to release the studio version of “Ugly Monster,” nor did he have any intention of starting a fan group.
The reason was simple: 90% of the copyright income from this song in the first three months would be taken by the system. The longer he delayed the release, the better it would be for him.
Anyway, if he didn’t release an album, someone would surely come looking for him, and he could see if he could snag another commission along the way.
After reading through the first two pages of comments, Xu Feng habitually kept scrolling down.
As he expected, where there were compliments, there were also haters. Especially since Xu Feng had nearly torn up his relationship with the show by announcing his withdrawal, it would be naive to think that the production team wouldn’t retaliate in some way.
Rather than attacking Xu Feng’s demonstrated talent, targeting his looks, criticizing his academic background (which far surpassed most in the entertainment industry), slinging mud, or employing the “step on one to lift another” strategy would be the most effective way to stir up trouble.
“I’m just a passerby, but if you’re going to break up, do it peacefully. Making such a big fuss doesn’t seem right.”
“Does being handsome give you the right to call someone ugly? Where’s the decency in that?”
Below these comments, there were plenty of people defending Xu Feng, and many others joining in the hate, creating a chaotic mess.
To fan the flames and keep the “step on one to lift another” tactic going, some people started dragging others into the conversation and began tagging people in the comments.
“Is his bass playing really as good as the judges said? Can someone who knows their stuff chime in?”
“I think Xu Feng’s bass playing isn’t as good as that female blogger on Douyin, Xia You. A bit overhyped.”
“@BassNoviceXiaYou. Big shot, come take a look.”
“Honestly, I can’t stand this blatant hype. These brainless fans are making it sound like he’s the best bass player in the world… Any bass pros want to bring him down a peg?”
Xu Feng, who had never paid much attention to this throwaway account, watched these comments with great interest, as if he were watching gossip about someone else.
It was quite amusing. The bass, a musical instrument most people couldn’t even name, was suddenly something everyone seemed to know in the comment section.
Clearly, these were just hired trolls and haters.
After scrolling a bit further and seeing that most of the remaining comments were meaningless filler, he casually clicked the refresh button to see if there were any more interesting comments.
Upon refreshing, Xu Feng did see something different.
The most eye-catching comment was from a verified account with a yellow checkmark.
Xia You the Bass Novice, “Glad to see another excellent bass player. Maybe we can jam together sometime!”
Below this comment, there were immediately users fanning the flames with obviously malicious intent. “Sister Xia You, did you see how arrogant he is? Go teach him a lesson!”
“Yeah, he looks so annoying.”
“I’ll immediately transfer 100,000 to whoever can beat Xu Feng. We can sign a contract!”
Being lured into the comment section, Xia You couldn’t possibly be unaware of the context.
She quickly replied to these comments: “Our circle is small. Anyone willing to join is a friend; no need for conflict.”
Actually, Xia You knew many of these people were hired by Tomorrow’s God of Song, and she knew the 100,000-yuan offer was likely not a joke.
To say she wasn’t tempted would be a lie.
For a niche instrument like the bass, there were plenty of jokes. For example, a bassist once saw a beggar with all four limbs intact on the side of the road and angrily said, “You have hands and feet, why are you begging? Let me teach you to become a bassist!”
The beggar hesitated for a moment and asked, “Isn’t that still begging?”
Or, “The bassist is the soul of the band! But do you see souls regularly?” and so on.
These jokes illustrate how obscure this instrument is. Ten thousand yuan was not a small sum for most people in this circle.
But as a genuine bassist, Xia You also knew how good Xu Feng’s technique was!
Even as a top bassist herself, Xia You wasn’t confident she could consistently outperform Xu Feng.
As a renowned senior, winning would be expected; losing would be humiliating and damaging to her reputation.
It wasn’t worth taking the risk for 100,000.
It was better to use their shared identity as bassists to build rapport with Xu Feng—who knows, maybe he’d ask her to join in on his next song!
…
Xu Feng, having enjoyed the spectacle, was about to close Weibo when his eyes caught the comment offering 100,000 yuan to anyone who could defeat him.
A sudden thought struck him.
“Wait, doesn’t this count as a commission?”
Most such grudge matches could only happen online and were hard to organize in real life.
So, was there a chance that Xu Feng could create an alias, put on a disguise, take the job, and then beat himself?
After all, the employer wanted someone to “defeat Xu Feng”—they didn’t specify who that someone had to be.
Defeating himself could also count as a defeat.
Xu Feng couldn’t help but laugh at the thought, ‘Isn’t this a bit too ruthless? I can’t imagine how furious they’ll be when they find out the truth.’
But that 100,000 yuan seemed very tempting.
Moreover, Xu Feng had no fondness for the production team.
So, let’s take the job!
As long as the client paid more, he could handle the business of beating himself!
Having made up his mind, Xu Feng began planning. First, he purchased a high-level streaming account online and bought two sets of completely different outfits.
He even bought two sets of streaming equipment.
As a mercenary, Xu Feng aimed to do things thoroughly, to make sure the employer felt their money was well spent and worth every penny!