ECG -Chapter 199 Qin Ruoyun’s Phone Call

That day, Fan Gang called and told Lin Hao that people from Houlang.com had arrived and asked him to come to the office.

Three young people had come from the website. The attractive female host went by the online name Qingmeng, while the other two young men were cameramen.

Qingmeng went over the interview questions with Lin Hao beforehand. He looked through them carefully and found that they were all very simple. The recording lasted about ten minutes and was completed in a single take.

Just as Lin Hao had expected, after the interview video was released on Houlang.com, it didn’t cause much of a sensation. Three days later, the view count had only reached 100,000. It wasn’t until the fourth day that Qin Ruoyun and Yang Qianyi called him to chat about it.

To the general public, Lin Hao’s piano duel video was entertaining enough to spread quickly. But most viewers were laymen—they were simply watching for fun. Many people couldn’t even remember Lin Hao’s name after finishing the video.

An interview video like this fared even worse. After all, he wasn’t a celebrity. Naturally, not many people watched it. Many of the comments below were simply asking:

“Who is this well-dressed guy supposed to be?”

In the blink of an eye, it was already early June.

Lin Hao had finished all of Phantom’s songs. Han Ying’s 500,000 yuan had long since arrived in his account, while Phantom’s ten million yuan had been paid in two installments. His bank card now held a total of 15.1 million yuan.

The bank even had a customer service representative call him to upgrade his card to some sort of Gold Card, followed by a long explanation about all the premium services and privileges he could now enjoy.

That evening, after finishing his run on the small athletic field, Lin Hao was about to go back, take a shower, and head to the rehearsal room when Qin Ruoyun called.

“Haozi!” Qin Ruoyun’s voice sounded lazy and relaxed.

“Sis,” Lin Hao replied warmly, grabbing the front of his T-shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

“Tan Gang called me.”

“Oh? What did he say?” Lin Hao asked as he walked toward the dormitory.

Back in early May, he and Qin Ruoyun had run into brothers Tan Gang and Tan Qiang at a café in Yanjing. The two brothers had been neighbors of Qin Ruoyun’s in their childhood military compound.

At the time, Qin Ruoyun had talked them into getting interested in the film and television industry and had even proposed that she and Lin Hao become investors. Lin Hao’s condition was that he and Qin Ruoyun would each invest five million yuan in exchange for separate 10% non-dilutable shares. The brothers had said they would discuss it and get back to them.

If Qin Ruoyun hadn’t brought it up now, Lin Hao would have completely forgotten about the matter.

“Tan Gang said he just couldn’t understand what these so-called non-dilutable shares were, so they decided to forget about it.”

“Oh?” Lin Hao was startled. The excuse sounded far too weak. If they didn’t understand, couldn’t they ask friends? Couldn’t they search online? “Looks like they’ve found a partner they think is more suitable than you.”

Lin Hao had surprised Qin Ruoyun countless times before, but she still hadn’t expected him to come so close to the truth from just a single sentence. She couldn’t help thinking to herself:

Monster.

“That’s right. Those two brothers have become more and more slippery. Fine by me—I can’t be bothered with the headache anyway.”

Although Qin Ruoyun said that, she still felt somewhat uncomfortable inside. She had originally thought the brothers would need her support and that the deal was practically guaranteed. She hadn’t expected things to fall through in the end.

“Mm.” Lin Hao didn’t want to continue discussing the topic. Whether he invested or not didn’t really matter. He barely knew the two brothers. If not for Qin Ruoyun’s sake, he never would have considered the investment in the first place.

At that moment, his conviction became even stronger:

Never get involved in an industry you don’t understand.

His vision was nearly twenty years ahead of everyone else’s. On the surface, opportunities seemed endless. Just like in those transmigration novels, wealth appeared to be scattered everywhere like gold on the ground—just bend down and pick it up.

But before his rebirth, he had been nothing more than a struggling musician. He knew nothing about finance, stock markets, business operations, or investment strategies. That road was essentially closed to him.

There were also things like Alibaba, Taobao, online games, and later short-video platforms. But this was only 2004. Smartphones were still in their infancy. The first-generation iPhone 2G wouldn’t be released until January 9, 2007.

In short, high-tech ventures, the internet industry, and similar fields were not Lin Hao’s strengths.

Don’t think that having ideas ahead of your time automatically means you’ll seize the future and reach the pinnacle of life. If you’re an outsider to the industry, then even if you traveled back in time, your advanced ideas would eventually become someone else’s ideas.

Business is a battlefield.

And as for you?

You might not even have any bones left.

Many people suspect that Nikola Tesla was actually a modern person who traveled back in time. He was a world-famous inventor, physicist, mechanical engineer, and electrical engineer.

If he truly had been a time traveler, then in his previous life he must have been a scientist—not a businessman.

For example, writing novels.

Many protagonists in transmigration stories can casually reproduce the complete works of Jin Yong or Gu Long. But if Lin Hao were asked to do it, he couldn’t.

Even though he had read Ordinary World, White Deer Plain, To Live, and many other classics multiple times, if someone asked him to write them out now, he could only remember the general plot. The details? No chance.

He didn’t possess a photographic memory. Besides, reading novels and writing novels were two completely different things.

In his previous life, countless veteran readers who had spent twenty years reading online fiction thought modern authors wrote nothing but garbage, so they picked up a pen and tried writing themselves. Yet once they actually entered the industry, they discovered how difficult it was. The overwhelming majority failed miserably.

In any profession, the people who make the big money are always those standing at the very top of the pyramid. And if you want to reach that summit, you must do what you know best and love most.

For Lin Hao, music was his life.

In his previous life, he had started accompanying singers in dance halls before he was even an adult. Later he performed at various gigs, and eventually at all kinds of nightlife venues. It could be said that music had been his constant companion throughout his entire life.

His mastery of countless musical instruments had been forged through years of sweat and dedication.

The reason he could transcribe so many classic songs wasn’t merely because he liked them—it was because music was his profession, the skill he relied on to support himself.

Sure, he occasionally got a lyric wrong, but it never really mattered. In fact, some lyrics became even better after he refined and polished them.

As for melodies, there was no need to worry at all. Music was his specialty; making mistakes in that area was practically impossible.

Lin Hao had thought this through long ago. If he could still reach the pinnacle of success by relying on his professional expertise, then why abandon what he knew best and chase after business, industry, inventions, or the internet?

Movies, however, were his obsession.

They were also the dream he had never fulfilled in his previous life.

The only acting experience he had ever had was when he went to Hengdian as an extra for a period of time to avenge a close female friend.

This time around, he knew that once he became famous as a singer, sooner or later he would enter the film industry. Perhaps he might even become a director one day. So he decided to prepare in advance and start studying now.

He also planned to spend his spare time adapting the scripts of classic films from his previous life.

Movies were very different from novels.

Back then, whenever he encountered a classic domestic or foreign film, he would watch it repeatedly. As a result, he could still remember most of their plots and scenes. The remaining challenge was simply figuring out how to write them into screenplay form.

After studying for some time, he finally understood that novels and screenplays were vastly different.

Novels relied primarily on narration.

Screenplays relied primarily on dialogue.

Characters in novels could be shaped through descriptive prose, while characters in scripts could only be developed through their words and actions. Screenplays also contained subtext, and a character’s emotions were usually indicated through notes rather than direct narration.

Fortunately, he had been studying diligently during this period.

He believed that before long, he would be capable of writing screenplays himself.

Suddenly, he remembered something.

“Sis, I need a favor.”

Qin Ruoyun giggled.

“Tell me what benefits I get first.”

“The next time I come to Yanjing, I’ll treat you to dinner, drinks, karaoke, a bathhouse, and a massage—the full package!” Lin Hao joked.

“Then you’d better massage me your—”

Hearing her lazy, seductive, and teasing voice through the phone, Lin Hao shivered involuntarily. A moment later, a wave of heat rushed through his lower abdomen.

He quickly changed the subject.

“Sis, do you know any radio hosts?”

“Radio?” Qin Ruoyun sounded puzzled. “Do you mean a radio station or a television station?”

“A radio station.”

“Let me think.”

Without hanging up, Qin Ruoyun flipped through her phone contacts. Sure enough, she found someone.

Putting the phone back to her ear, she said, “I actually do know one pretty well.”

Lin Hao then told her about meeting Yu Deshui in Dashilan.

“You want the radio station to record performances at the small theater and then broadcast the crosstalk on air?” Qin Ruoyun sounded astonished. The idea felt strange to her.

Crosstalk seemed completely unrelated to Lin Hao. Why was he suddenly so concerned about it?

“That’s right, Sis. If it can be broadcast on the radio, it’ll help them gain some audience and popularity.”

“Haozi, is this Yu Deshui a friend of yours?”

Although Lin Hao had already explained the situation, Qin Ruoyun still found it hard to believe. If they had only met by chance, why would he care so much?

“Not exactly a friend yet. But I think he’s very talented. Crosstalk is in such decline right now. If I can lend a hand, why not?”