Shen You'an's room was small. It used to be a storage room for miscellaneous items, with only a tiny skylight, resulting in poor lighting and ventilation.
Against the wall was a small 1.2-meter bed, with the blanket folded neatly into a tofu block and the bedsheet without a single wrinkle. There was a desk, a wardrobe, and besides those, the room was impeccably clean like a showroom model.
Shen You'an took out a backpack, packed two pieces of clothing, and added an English book borrowed from the library. She informed Zhang Jian and left the Zhang family.
In her previous life, at this time, Zhou Qin's lover had racked up a mountain of gambling debt. The debt collectors, unable to locate him, came looking for the Zhang family, and Zhou Qin's five-year affair was exposed.
The incident was a major uproar. Her uncle, for Zhang Tianci's sake, suppressed his anger and refrained from divorcing Zhou Qin. From then on, Zhou Qin became more subdued but still found ways to torment her.
For her uncle's sake, Shen You'an had tried to warn Zhou Qin, but that woman was determined to dig her own grave.
By her calculations, the scandalous event was just about to happen. Shen You'an had no interest in witnessing the drama this time.
This time, she was gifting her uncle a great favor. For a woman as disgraceful as Zhou Qin, it was better to end things decisively.
A sudden ringtone interrupted her thoughts. Shen You'an checked her phone screen.
A voice message from Zhao Heng—"Boss, I found the guy, but he thought I was a scammer and didn't believe me. Talk about biting the hand that feeds you!"
Shen You'an thought for a moment and replied in text: "Leave it, I'll handle it."
Zhao Heng quickly sent another voice message—"When the boss steps in, it's as good as done. Hell yeah!"
——"Oh, by the way, boss, I'm currently in Spring City. Just holla and exploit me all you want."
Shen You'an ignored him, hailed a cab to the airport, and bought a ticket for the next flight to Spring City.
In a Spring City bar, Jiang Han ended his performance. Ignoring the deafening applause from the crowd, he expressionlessly slung his guitar over his back and exited through the back door.
Several young men with tattooed arms and wooden clubs blocked Jiang Han's way.
Jiang Han's face darkened. "Move."
His imposing 1.85-meter frame and intimidating aura made him somewhat menacing.
The leader of the group stubbed out his cigarette onto the ground with a harsh press and spat disdainfully, "Messing around with Brother Jin's woman? Tired of living, huh? Break his legs for me."
Even a strong fist can't fend off multiple attackers, and Jiang Han was soon at a disadvantage. A heavy blow landed mercilessly on his back, causing him to stagger, though he braced himself and didn't collapse.
Spitting out a mouthful of blood, Jiang Han's eyes flashed with a dangerous glint as he lunged at them again.
Knocked down, he stood back up, only to be knocked down again, and stood up again. Tirelessly, he ignored the mocking laughter around him, his eyes filled with sheer determination that refused to give up.
Shen You'an stood in the shadows, watching silently for a long time.
Jiang Han, the future global sensation and superstar, now looked like a stray dog.
As the club swung down towards Jiang Han's legs, Shen You'an could estimate the force—it would cripple him for certain.
With a guttural roar, Jiang Han suddenly sprang up, catching the wooden club barehanded.
Someone kicked him viciously in the back, but Jiang Han gritted his teeth, holding on with both hands as he drove the attacker into a dead corner.
The three men behind caught up and started pounding and kicking his back.
Jiang Han compressed his jaw tightly, fresh blood streaming down his face from his temple. His aura turned ferocious like a wild wolf, sharp and violent, terrifying the blond-headed gang leader across from him.
The strong fear the reckless, and the reckless fear those who don't fear death.
This guy was clearly someone who didn't fear death.
Jiang Han gripped both ends of the wooden club and pressed it relentlessly against the blond's neck.
The blond soon found himself gasping for air, eyes dilating in panic. The fear of suffocation sent shivers down his spine. The wooden clubs of the three other men rained on Jiang Han's back like hail, yet he clenched the club tight and refused to let go.
The blond, barely able to breathe, waved a hand weakly. Only then did his three companions reluctantly stop their assault.
A long moment passed before Jiang Han loosened his grip.
The blond collapsed in a crumpled heap, his legs trembling as he stared at Jiang Han, visibly shaken.
A tough bastard, indeed.
The blond gritted his teeth. "Guess you got lucky today. We're leaving."
The trio helped him hobble away, defeated and humiliated.
The alley returned to silence. From the bar, the faint thrum of heavy metal rock music could still be heard. Occasionally, a passerby spotted the bloodied, bruised man sitting against the wall and quickened their pace to avoid him.
After steadying his breathing, Jiang Han pushed himself off the ground. Slinging his guitar onto his back, he prepared to leave, only to realize it had been damaged during the fight.
Animosity brewed in Jiang Han's eyes as he carefully packed up his broken guitar and limped out of the alley.
From a distance, Shen You'an followed him. If she hadn't witnessed it with her own eyes, she could never reconcile this man with the music industry's future king of storms and waves.
In her previous life, she only crossed paths with him once—backstage at a fashion event. She had offended "capital" and was suppressed, forced to walk the red carpet in an ill-fitting, outdated gown, making a complete fool of herself.
Jiang Han, meanwhile, was the headlining star.
Backstage, a "mistake" by the staff left her drenched in freezing water during the dead of winter, nearly driving her to hypothermia. Jiang Han had passed by, took pity on her, and draped his coat over her shoulders without saying a word before leaving.
Even after many years, Shen You'an still remembered the warmth from that moment.
After being blacklisted, in her most idle hours hiding in a rental apartment, she would listen to his songs, search for news about him, and even browse through gossip forums for stories about him.
At eighteen, he sang in bars. At twenty-two, he caught the eye of a famous music producer who recognized his talent. He released his debut album under the banner of a musical genius, quickly becoming a sensation across Asia, marking the beginning of the Jiang Han era.
Every one of his albums shattered industry records and swept top music awards. During that age, you'd hear kids as young as three humming his songs on the streets.
One music critic had this to say about him: "Jiang Han is the final dazzling jewel of the declining world of Mandarin music."
He was an era unto himself.
Shen You'an thought absentmindedly, until a wary and cold voice interrupted her, snapping her back to the present. "What do you want?"
Shen You'an calmly raised her eyes. "Jiang Han, I've been watching you for a while now. Are you interested in entering the entertainment industry?"
Jiang Han's pupils narrowed.
Under the dim streetlights, only her silhouette—a tall, slender figure—was visible.
Her voice was crisp, steady, and unhurried, exuding a natural confidence that instinctively drew trust.
Jiang Han scoffed coldly. "Persistent, aren't you?"
"Troubles like tonight's, I imagine, are neither your first nor your last. You're immensely talented, and surely you don't want to waste your time dealing with such petty matters that only drain your body and mind."
She took a few steps closer until she was right in front of him. With a swift motion, she slipped a business card into his chest pocket.
Jiang Han caught sight of those hands—slender and elegant, their porcelain-like sheen glowing faintly under the streetlight.
In the brief moment of distraction, the owner of those hands had already withdrawn them.
"One day, you will become the brightest star in the music industry. Trust me, and more importantly, trust yourself."
——
Jiang Han returned to his rental apartment, tore the overdue bill from the door, and tossed it into the trash.
Collapsing onto his bed, he closed his eyes in exhaustion.
Unbidden, the image of those eyes surfaced in his mind.
Veiled in a faint mist, they were soft yet enigmatic.
"One day, you will become the brightest star in the music industry. Trust me, and trust yourself."
Jiang Han pressed his lips into a thin line and instinctively reached for his chest pocket, pulling out the business card.
Holding it up to the light, he examined it over and over again.
Other Shore Entertainment, Director of the Music Department and Gold Medal Agent—Zhao Heng.