The day of his departure was an afternoon flight.

When Lu Zhixian finished packing his backpack and came out of his room, Song Min was already standing in the entryway.

She was carrying an insulated bag that was stuffed to the brim in her hand.

Lu Zhixian took it and weighed it in his hand; it was quite heavy.

"Mom, this has to be at least four pounds, right?"

"You don't eat properly when you're out on your own, so take more."

"My cooking skills aren't bad."

"What you make isn't the same as what I make."

Lu Zhixian didn't argue further and hung the insulated bag on the side of his backpack.

Song Min stood at the doorway with no intention of changing her shoes.

"Not coming to see me off?"

"Seeing you to the door is enough."

Song Min said.

"You aren't a child anymore."

Lu Zhixian glanced at her and smiled.

"Alright."

"Give home a call when you arrive."

"Got it."

Lu Zhixian put on his shoes and pulled open the security door.

"Mom, I'm leaving."

"Mhm."

He took two steps, then heard Song Min say one more thing from behind him.

"Don't stay up late."

Lu Zhixian didn't turn back, but raised a hand.

Lu Jianguo was already waiting downstairs.

The car was parked at the entrance of the unit.

He was sitting in the driver's seat, and seeing Lu Zhixian come out, he rolled down the window and called out.

"What are you dawdling for? We're going to miss the flight."

Lu Zhixian pulled open the passenger door and sat inside.

"It's not late yet."

Lu Jianguo stepped on the gas and drove out of the residential compound gate.

He didn't stop talking the whole way.

"Zhixian, do you remember your first time on stage?"

"Which time?"

"Fourth grade of elementary school, the school talent show. What was that song you sang…"

"Right, right, right! That one. You were standing on stage, couldn't even hold the microphone steady, shaking like a sieve."

"Dad, you remembered wrong; I wasn't shaking."

"How were you not shaking? Your mom was sitting next to me at the time and said, 'This child's legs are shaking.'"

"...My mom has such sharp eyes?"

"Your mom has been a Chinese teacher her whole life; she can tell at a glance who is nervous on stage."

Lu Zhixian didn't respond.

Lu Jianguo drove for a while, then spoke again.

"After you finished singing, the whole audience applauded, and you stopped shaking. I told your mom right then, this kid will be able to get on the big stage in the future."

"What you actually said back then was, 'It's okay, he didn't sing off-key.'"

"...That was modesty."

Lu Zhixian smiled, shook his head, and looked out the car window.

The street trees along the road retreated, and the streets of the old district were gradually left behind.

When they were almost at the airport, Lu Jianguo suddenly stopped talking.

The car turned into the departure level and pulled over to the side of the road.

Lu Zhixian unbuckled his seatbelt and picked up his backpack.

"Dad, you should head back."

Lu Jianguo sat motionless, his hands still resting on the steering wheel.

"Zhixian."

"Yeah?"

Lu Jianguo looked ahead and paused for two seconds.

Then he turned to the side and reached out to pat Lu Zhixian's shoulder.

"Go on. Dad will be waiting to watch you on New Year's Eve."

Lu Zhixian nodded.

"Don't let your mom worry at home alone."

"Got it. Get out of here."

Lu Zhixian chuckled and pushed the door open to get out.

He walked a few steps, then turned back to look. Lu Jianguo's car was still parked there, not having left.

He turned his head and entered the terminal.

The plane landed at 7:40 PM.

Lu Zhixian sent a message to Old Zhao in the taxi.

"I've arrived. I'm going into the studio tonight."

Old Zhao replied instantly.

"? You aren't going to rest for a night?"

"No need. Is the studio booked?"

"It's booked. The same studio where we recorded 'nocturne'; I've extended it for you until eight tomorrow morning."

"Alright."

"Take it easy, don't record yourself into the ICU."

Lu Zhixian didn't reply and directly asked the driver to change the destination.

At 8:30 PM, he arrived at the recording studio.

The braised beef in the insulated bag was still warm.

He opened it, ate a few pieces, drank half a bottle of water, and then plugged the USB drive into the mixing console's computer.

The arrangement file spread across the screen.

He put on the monitor headphones and listened to it in its entirety first.

Then he took off the headphones and sat in the chair, thinking for about ten minutes.

Lu Zhixian adjusted the microphone and walked into the recording booth.

"wishing you prosperity."

"I wish you brilliance."

"Let the best come over,"

"Let the bad ones walk away."

He recorded over and over, listened over and over, and scrapped his work over and over.

By the ninth take, he stood motionless in the recording booth.

He closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and started over.

This take didn't stop from beginning to end.

After recording the last note, he stood there without coming out.

He glanced at the waveform through the glass.

Then he walked out of the recording booth, sat in front of the mixing console, and began mixing.

Time ticked by minute by minute.

2:11 AM.

Lu Zhixian took off his headphones and leaned back in his chair.

He listened to it from beginning to end three more times.

Lu Zhixian exported the master tape, opened WeChat, and sent it to Old Zhao.

He added a sentence.

"Speak after you've listened to it."

After sending it, he turned off the studio lights and called a car to go home.

When he got home, he took a shower, collapsed onto the bed, and fell asleep within two minutes.

The next morning at 9:17 AM.

The phone rang.

Lu Zhixian squinted, felt for the phone, and took a look. It was Old Zhao.

He answered.

"Hello."

"Lu Zhixian!"

"What time did you record this last night?"

"Probably past two in the morning."

"Let me tell you, after you sent it over last night, I saw it was already 2:30 AM, and I originally planned to listen to it today."

"And then?"

"Then my hands just couldn't help but click on it."

"Mhm."

"I sat straight up in bed."

Lu Zhixian chuckled.

"Then didn't your wife kick you?"

"After she woke up, she asked me what I was listening to. I played it on speaker for her, and guess what she said after she finished listening?"

"What?"

"She said, 'We'll play this song for the New Year.'"

Lu Zhixian didn't speak.

"I looped it seven times before turning it off."

Old Zhao's voice finally came down a little from its excitement, but he still couldn't suppress it.

"Let me tell you, I've been in this business for so many years, and I've heard at least eight or ten thousand songs. Once this song is released, it's going to be the BGM for the New Year."

"Then hurry up and send the encrypted demo to Director Fang for review."

"I know, I know, I'm sending it now."

Old Zhao paused.

"You really are a ruthless person."

"What's wrong?"

"You were on a plane all day, went straight to the studio after landing, recorded until two in the morning, and the stuff you recorded is at this level."

"Standard procedure."

"Standard my foot."

Lu Zhixian hung up, turned over, and slept for another hour and a half.

At 3:00 PM, Old Zhao's call came again.

This time the tone was different.

"Director Fang replied."

Lu Zhixian sat up.

"What did he say?"

"Director Fang listened to it himself, and his feedback was positive; he said it was a pleasant surprise and exceeded expectations."

"But?"

Old Zhao paused.

"But he said that not everyone in the directing team approves."

"Who?"

"There's a senior director, surnamed Zheng, who carries a lot of weight in the group. After listening to it, he felt… the style was too common."

"What's wrong with being common?"

"His exact words were that the Spring Festival Gala's music programs should have a certain level of artistic height, and this song is too straightforward, like background music for a shopping mall. He suggests you change to something with more depth."

Lu Zhixian leaned against the headboard, not speaking.

Old Zhao waited on the other end of the line for a few seconds, feeling a bit nervous.

"What do you think? Should we… compromise a little? Like preparing a backup song?"

"No need," Lu Zhixian said.

"Then what do you plan to do?"

"Let them hear the complete stage presentation plan before making a decision."

Old Zhao was stunned for a moment.

"What complete stage presentation plan?"

"I'll do it tonight."

"...Didn't you just pull an all-nighter last night?"

"I didn't pull an all-nighter; I went to sleep at two."

"Lu Zhixian."

"Yeah."

"Do you not know how to spell the word 'tired'?"

Lu Zhixian chuckled and didn't respond.

After hanging up, he got up, washed his face, made a cup of coffee, and sat at his desk.

He opened his computer and created a new document.

Title: "wishing you prosperity" Spring Festival Gala Stage Presentation Plan.

He started writing.

The live band arrangement composition.

When he finished writing, he added a paragraph at the end of the plan.

"The Spring Festival Gala isn't just for experts to watch. On New Year's Eve, the whole family sits in front of the TV, with both the elderly and children present."

"What everyone needs is happiness. This song has only one goal: to let everyone, after listening, smile and say 'Happy New Year' to the people around them."

He exported the plan to a PDF and sent it to Director Fang.

The time was 11:40 PM.

After sending it, Lu Zhixian didn't wait for a reply and directly shut down the computer.

He went to the kitchen, heated up a box of ribs Song Min had made, ate them at the dining table, washed the bowl, and returned to the bedroom.

The phone lit up next to the pillow.

Director Fang's WeChat.

After reading it, Lu Zhixian put the phone aside, lay down, and stared at the ceiling.

The director surnamed Zheng wasn't mentioned.

But Director Fang didn't say "unanimously approved" either.

This meant the controversy was still there, just temporarily suppressed.

It didn't matter.

When the time comes to go into the studio and run through it, all the doubts will have an answer.

Lu Zhixian turned over, ready to sleep.

Before closing his eyes, he picked up his phone again and opened the system panel.

The popularity points were still rising.

The growth over the past few days was much slower than the few days when "nocturne" first launched, but the numbers never stopped.

He looked at those numbers, and a scene flashed through his mind.

New Year's Eve, one month later.

Hundreds of millions of televisions across the country were on at the same time.

If "wishing you prosperity" really blew up at the Spring Festival Gala, what would this number turn into?