This Star Only Wants More Money - Chapter 24
Translator: Diviner
“???”
“Mr. Xu… you… I’m at a loss for words to describe you.”
“You’re something else, seriously.”
“What?! Ding Henrun is actually Xu Feng? Xu Feng is Ding Henrun? Am I going crazy, or is this world going crazy? I can’t take it anymore!”
“Hahaha! Where are all those people who were jeering in the chat just moments ago? You were all mocking just ten seconds ago. What happened? Cat got your tongue?”
“Are you even human? Could a human pull something like this off? Seeing two identical faces just broke my brain. You owe me a refund for my sanity!”
“I hereby declare this the most hardcore stunt of 2024! Congratulations on fooling hundreds of thousands of people all at once. Are you interested in becoming the boss of the Zuowang Sect?”
“Mr. Xu, you must have found it exhausting to act out a split personality for so long. Give me your address, and I’ll send a massage therapist over.”
“I surrender.”
“Are you single? Are you single? Are you single? If so, please respond immediately.”
Bass Rookie Xia Yu: “PK-ing oneself with two different styles and two high-quality original songs… Usually, when someone says, ‘The only one who can defeat me is myself,’ I’d laugh at them. But with Xu Feng, I genuinely respect it.”
“…”
No one had imagined that Ding Henrun was actually Xu Feng!
When the same face appeared on both sides of the screen, at least six figures of viewers’ minds collectively crashed.
Originally, everyone thought they were witnessing a showdown between two titans in the music world—a dramatic saga where Xu Feng lost the first round by being overconfident, followed by Ding Henrun bravely challenging Xu Feng’s signature song. In the final battle, both showed incredible skill…
There was even a new high-quality original song bursting onto the scene.
Regardless of the outcome, this had been a thrilling PK match.
Wasn’t this of far higher caliber than the finals of “Tomorrow’s God of Song”?
But in the end, it turned out that Xu Feng was Ding Henrun?!
All the drama, all the tension surrounding the two, was just Xu Feng playing with his audience?
After the initial shock, the onlookers who hadn’t taken sides but were swayed by the bots and online opinion soon regained their senses. They started to scrutinize every detail of this entire PK from beginning to end.
Questions began to emerge one after another.
“Why did you PK yourself?”
“It didn’t feel like you created the public opinion yourself. So many music bloggers were bashing you and supporting Ding Henrun before.”
“I’ve always wanted to say, in terms of listening, both sides sounded top-notch, almost indistinguishable. How did those music bloggers manage to forcefully analyze Ding Henrun as superior? Feels like there’s some force behind it.”
“Remember someone said this PK might be a setup by ‘Tomorrow’s God of Song’? Wouldn’t that mean their plan totally backfired?”
“Hahaha! Spending money to promote the enemy; this production team could definitely fit in with the clowns of Gotham!”
“I don’t care about anything else. The one thing we onlookers are most interested in is the notification about the 80,000 yuan deposit at the end. With your skills, can you spot me 50 yuan for a crazy Thursday?”
Xu Feng originally had no intention of responding to the barrage of comments—he knew most of the people here were misled by the bots and media, so there was no serious love or hatred. But after thinking about it, he decided to give the production team a bit of extra drama.
“You guys have a lot of questions… let me check if there’s a confidentiality clause in the contract,” Xu Feng said casually, scanning the contract through the system to confirm no risks before continuing, “Remember when someone in the comment section offered 100,000 yuan for someone to beat me?”
“No one took the job for so long, so I thought it’d be a waste not to earn that money. They didn’t specify who had to execute the contract, so I just decided to put on a disguise and do it myself.”
Lin Shenghuan, who had been anxiously waiting for the livestream to end, was stunned—was that something you could say?
Do you realize, handsome, that this single sentence is going to dominate the headlines tomorrow?!
Do you understand the weight of those words?
Even Lin Shenghuan herself wasn’t this good at stirring up trouble.
Sure enough, as soon as the conspiracy theory was confirmed, the chat exploded. Many viewers immediately left the livestream to flood “Tomorrow’s God of Song” with angry messages.
So it really was the “Tomorrow’s God of Song” production team!
The entire storyline was now clear—Xu Feng had a falling out with the show, was forced to withdraw, and then the team attempted to suppress him with every tool at their disposal.
First, they tried to crush him with a huge failure and embarrassment, having someone similar absorb all his real fans, and then immediately moving to cold shoulder him so that his buzz would die down fast…
It seems now that the production team’s plan had completely backfired—they had spent all that money essentially giving Xu Feng a major boost, making themselves the ultimate laughingstock…
If Ding Henrun hadn’t been Xu Feng, this plan would have succeeded!
Xu Feng, with his impressive singing, instrumental, and creative talents, would have been crushed in his cradle!
How outrageous is that?
Xu Feng glanced at the barrage, which was now filled with furious messages, then checked the time and quickly said, “If no one has any more questions, I’m logging off to enjoy Crazy Thursday. Just to reiterate, I won’t be doing any more livestreams unless there’s something special.”
As he spoke, Xu Feng moved his mouse to click the close button.
Just then, a low-cost, 50-yuan pinned comment floated by in the chat.
“Wait, Xu Feng! Can you perform your new song in full here on the livestream? The melody sounds great!”
Xu Feng paused his actions and, without missing a beat, replied, “Sure, but you need to pay extra.”
The audience was confused: “Pay what?”
“Pay extra for me to sing. The more money you pay, the better I’ll sing. If you pay enough, I might even recreate today’s show for you, reasonably priced with a 100% satisfaction guarantee and full entertainment value. Feel free to place your orders.”
“If you have other requests, feel free to DM me; prices are negotiable.”
Xu Feng said this with a cheerful tone, realizing he was getting used to this persona.
Audience: “?”
Wait, so our relationship isn’t fan to idol, but boss to employee?
What kind of twisted, deformed relationship is this?
Thinking back to Xu Feng’s minimal engagement and lack of promotion despite his growing fame, a strange feeling emerged in many viewers’ hearts—was Xu Feng genuinely taking on the production team’s job rather than engaging in deliberate revenge?
Breaking out of a talent show, with two original songs, and not immediately seeking fame and fortune but instead staying home taking gigs?
No, they must be overthinking this…
Xu Feng must have his reasons for doing this, right?
Seeing the entire livestream chat fall silent, Xu Feng happily clicked the exit button.
As the computer screen dimmed, Xu Feng finally had the chance to pick up his phone and check the messages, which were almost overwhelming.
There were messages from “Big Bird Spin Spin Spin” in both private messages and comments, congratulations from Dai Mingli and Xia Yu, and a barrage of frantic questions from Lin Shenghuan… and, of course, over 99+ messages from the production team’s Xiao Liu, sent to his alt account.
Clearly, they were very dissatisfied with the post-sale service.
Switching to his alt account, Xu Feng chuckled, “The production team’s already having a meltdown? See, they’re in a rush again.”