Lu Zhixian stared at the system interface for a while.

The growth rate of his popularity points was even faster than he had expected.

He clicked on the lottery draw.

The wheel started spinning.

The cursor jumped for about seven or eight seconds before stopping.

A line of text popped up in the center of the screen:

[Congratulations to the host for obtaining: The classic Chinese song "wishing you prosperity" — complete demo, arrangement files, and a physical USB flash drive]

Lu Zhixian was stunned for two seconds.

Then he smiled.

"wishing you prosperity."

He was too familiar with this song.

In his previous life, it was played on loop in shopping malls and on taxi radios every Spring Festival.

Its brainwashing level was comparable to a virus.

But it was truly good to listen to. Festive, catchy, easy to sing along to, with a strong sense of rhythm—it appealed to all ages.

And the most crucial point:

It and the Spring Festival Gala stage were simply a match made in heaven.

Lu Zhixian looked down at the table.

A USB flash drive was lying there quietly.

He picked it up and twirled it between his fingers twice.

What does the Spring Festival Gala need?

It's not about being high-end or niche.

What the Spring Festival Gala needs is for the people across the country to sit in front of the TV on New Year's Eve and, after listening to it, be able to smile and say, "This song is so festive."

Lu Zhixian rummaged through his backpack, took out his earphones, and plugged them into his phone.

He glanced at the door again, confirmed there were no signs of anyone coming in, and then plugged the USB flash drive into the phone adapter.

Lu Zhixian listened to the whole song carefully.

He took off his earphones, leaned back against the chair, and tapped a rhythm on the table unconsciously.

His mind had already started spinning.

He needed to turn it into an event.

Lu Zhixian thought for about two minutes, picked up his phone, and dialed Lao Zhao's number.

It was answered after two rings.

"What's wrong? Did your dad take you to the vegetable market and get recognized again?"

"No. The track list for the Spring Festival Gala has been decided."

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"...Decided? So fast?"

"Yeah."

"What song? You wouldn't tell me you're using "nocturne", would you? The style of that song isn't really..."

"Not "nocturne". A new song."

"A new song?" Lao Zhao's voice was noticeably higher. "When did you write it?"

"Just decided."

"What's it called?"

""wishing you prosperity"."

There was silence on the other end of the line for about three seconds.

"...wishing you prosperity?"

"Yes."

"This name..." Lao Zhao considered his wording. "Won't it be a bit... too straightforward?"

"So what if it's straightforward?"

"I mean, the Spring Festival Gala stage—it's your first time on it. Won't using a song called "wishing you prosperity" seem a bit... not high-end enough?"

Lu Zhixian leaned back against the chair and let out a laugh.

"Brother Zhao, do you think what the Spring Festival Gala audience wants is 'high-end'?"

Lao Zhao didn't speak.

"On New Year's Eve, a family is sitting in front of the TV, with both the elderly and children present. What do you think they want to hear? A song that requires reading three music reviews to understand, or a song that makes you want to laugh, clap, and say 'Happy New Year' the moment you finish listening to it?"

Lao Zhao sighed on the other end of the line.

"What you're saying makes sense, but..."

"You'll know once you listen to it," Lu Zhixian said. "This song was born for the Spring Festival Gala."

Lao Zhao was silent for a few seconds.

"Alright," Lao Zhao said.

"I believe in you. I'll communicate with the Spring Festival Gala production team about the song registration process immediately. Send me the song title and basic information."

"Okay."

"Also," Lao Zhao paused. "When are you coming back? We need to speed up the recording. The schedule for the Spring Festival Gala rehearsals is very rigid; we need to enter the venue one to two weeks before the New Year."

"I'll stay at home for two more days and return the day after tomorrow."

"Alright, I'll get things moving on this end first."

"Mhm."

"By the way," Lao Zhao added before hanging up. "The name "wishing you prosperity"... are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Alright then. You're the boss anyway."

Lu Zhixian hung up the phone and sent the track title and duration to Lao Zhao.

Then he opened WeChat, found Director Fang's contact information, and composed a text message.

"Director Fang, the track has been decided: original new song "wishing you prosperity". I will return to Beijing next week to coordinate."

Send.

In less than two minutes, Director Fang replied.

"Received. The production team is looking forward to it."

Lu Zhixian placed his phone face down on the table and stretched.

He sat for a while, then got up and walked out of the room.

In the living room, Lu Jianguo had already changed the TV to a variety show, but he clearly wasn't watching it; his eyes kept glancing toward Lu Zhixian's room.

Lu Zhixian walked to the sofa and sat down.

"Dad, why do you keep staring at my room door?"

"I'm not." Lu Jianguo turned his face back to the TV. "I'm watching TV."

"You're watching a variety show?"

"What's wrong with that? Can't your dad watch a variety show?"

"Last time you said variety shows were all nonsense."

Lu Jianguo cleared his throat and decided not to dwell on this issue.

"Were you making a phone call in your room just now?"

"Yeah."

"Work stuff?"

"You could say that."

Lu Jianguo asked tentatively, "About the Spring Festival Gala?"

Lu Zhixian glanced at him.

"The song has been chosen."

Lu Jianguo's eyes lit up instantly, and he leaned forward half his body.

"Really? What song? Can you let me listen to it first?"

"No."

"Why not? I'm your dad!"

"Listen to it with the rest of the country on New Year's Eve."

Lu Jianguo's expression froze.

"You mean your own dad doesn't even make the cut?"

"It's not a question of making the cut."

Lu Zhixian said with a smile.

"If you listen to it in advance, it won't be a surprise."

"I don't want a surprise; I want to hear it in advance."

At this moment, Song Min walked out of the bedroom; she had probably just woken up from her nap.

She glanced at the standoff between the father and son and asked indifferently.

"What is it this time?"

"Your son has chosen his song for the Spring Festival Gala, and he won't let me listen to it," Lu Jianguo complained.

Song Min walked to the dining table, poured a glass of warm water, and took a sip unhurriedly.

"Then just wait. You'll be sitting in front of the TV on New Year's Eve anyway."

"Is that the same thing? If I listen to it in advance, it'll feel better when I watch the Spring Festival Gala."

"If you listen to it in advance and then show off to others in the living room saying, 'I've already heard this song,' that would be boring."

Lu Jianguo opened his mouth, realized he had been accurately predicted, and leaned back on the sofa gloomily.

"Fine."

Lu Zhixian looked at his dad's expression—unconvinced yet helpless—and smiled.

"Dad, don't worry. You'll definitely be satisfied when the time comes."

"That's not necessarily true. I have high standards."

"Last time you sang at the KTV, you went off-key eight times."

"That was the microphone's fault!"

Song Min sat down nearby with her water glass, watching the father and son bicker without saying a word.

Her gaze lingered on Lu Zhixian's face for a moment.

His expression was very relaxed.

Much more relaxed than when he first arrived home yesterday.

The dinner tasted really good.

Halfway through the meal, Lu Jianguo started fishing for information again.

"Zhixian, what is the name of that song? Surely you can tell us that much?"

"I can."

Lu Jianguo's eyes lit up again.

"It's called "wishing you prosperity"."

Lu Jianguo's chopsticks stopped in mid-air.

"wishing you prosperity?"

"Yes."

Lu Jianguo smacked his lips, his expression a bit complicated.

"This name... is quite down-to-earth."

"It was meant to be a down-to-earth song."

"Are you sure this song will be okay for the Spring Festival Gala? Don't let it..."

"Don't let it what?"

Lu Jianguo was stared at by his son and swallowed the second half of his sentence.

"Nothing. As long as you know what you're doing."

Song Min picked up a piece of fish belly and put it into Lu Zhixian's bowl, not even looking at Lu Jianguo.

"When has a decision he made ever gone wrong?"

Lu Jianguo wanted to refute this, but after thinking it over, he realized he couldn't find any counterexamples.

"That's true."

He muttered and continued to lower his head to shovel rice.

After dinner, Lu Zhixian helped wash the dishes and sat with his parents in the living room for a while.

After nine o'clock, Lu Jianguo went back to the bedroom first. Before leaving, he didn't forget to turn back and say, "wishing you prosperity, at least let me hear the intro."

"No."

"You son..."

The bedroom door closed.

The living room quieted down.

Song Min was knitting a sweater nearby. Lu Zhixian didn't know when she started knitting; he didn't seem to recall her ever doing that before.

He didn't ask.

"Get some rest early," Song Min said.