"15,370,000."

Lu Zhixian stared at the numbers on the system panel.

His finger moved toward [Targeted Draw].

The options expanded.

His gaze locked directly onto [Vocal/Works Category].

"Confirm."

The system panel flickered violently, and the number instantly dropped by five million.

A dark gold treasure chest popped open in the center of his vision. As the light faded, a few lines of small text appeared.

[Acquired Song: "A Song Not Written for Anyone"]

[Bonus: Complete arrangement tracks, harmony arrangement scheme]

A massive stream of information flooded into his mind.

An ordinary singer couldn't fix this song line by line in a recording studio, let alone sing it live with a full mic.

This song wasn't just for showing off skills.

There was a huge sense of inclusivity in its lyrics and melody; it was the relief that comes after experiencing storms.

"A godfather is not an honor, but a responsibility."

The image of Mr. Zhou sitting in the courtyard surfaced once again.

Lu Zhixian smiled.

The haters online said he was a tool created by capital with money, and that all his hits were precisely calculated.

If he issued a statement or a lawyer's letter, he would lose.

This "A Song Not Written for Anyone" was his attitude.

It wasn't meant to respond to any specific hater, nor to cater to any capital. It was simply to set a benchmark for all those who truly love music.

But that wasn't enough.

The Penguin Music Awards was next month, more than twenty days away.

He couldn't really do nothing and let those people jump around online for over half a month.

He had to throw out an appetizer first to sew their mouths shut.

He turned back to the sofa and called up the system panel again.

His finger clicked [Targeted Draw] once more.

This time, he swiped to [Musical Instruments].

"Ten million, throw it all in."

The system panel turned a piercing red.

[Deducted 10 million popularity points]

[Acquired Top-tier Ability: Master-level Guitar Skills]

[Bonus: Parallel world extreme fingerstyle track: "Conny Berghäll" sheet music and muscle memory]

Boom.

This wasn't just an influx of information.

Lu Zhixian felt his hands instantly become hot.

The previous "Professional Instrumentalist" skill allowed him to play various instruments proficiently, reaching recording studio standards.

But now, in terms of guitar alone, he stood at the very top of this world's pyramid.

The heat in his hands gradually faded.

He moved his fingers. His ten fingers felt exceptionally light; as soon as a note flashed in his brain, his fingers instinctively found the correct position. It had completely become a part of his body.

He looked at the acoustic guitar in the corner.

He walked over and took it in his hands.

The texture of the wood pressed against his palm.

He casually plucked the sixth string.

As soon as the sound came out, he raised an eyebrow.

"Bang!"

The office door was pushed open.

Old Zhao rushed in.

His suit jacket was draped over his arm, his tie was crooked, and his forehead was covered in fine sweat.

He clutched a few printed A4 papers and slammed them onto the coffee table as soon as he entered.

"We can't delay any longer!"

Old Zhao picked up the cold water on the table and downed half a cup in one go.

"Xingyao Entertainment has personally stepped in. They found three PR firms and bought twenty thousand bot accounts."

"Now every social platform is spamming that marketing account's article. Shen Yihang's top fan leader has even started organizing a so-called 'solid evidence' timeline. The entire fandom is stepping in to trample you."

Lu Zhixian didn't speak. Holding the guitar, he sat back on the sofa and slowly wiped the strings with a dry cloth.

Old Zhao walked over and looked down at him.

"I found the best PR team in the industry and stayed up all night to draft three statements. Pick one."

Old Zhao picked up the A4 papers and handed them to Lu Zhixian.

"The first one is tough; issue a lawyer's letter directly and sue that marketing account for rumor-mongering."

"The second one..."

Lu Zhixian didn't take them.

He focused on wiping the headstock without even looking up.

"Old Zhao, these strings are a bit old. Have someone send a new set over this afternoon."

Old Zhao was stunned.

He took a deep breath.

"Lu Zhixian, do you even know what the situation is? Your reputation online is in a freefall!"

"Many netizens who were originally favorable are starting to be swayed. Although the brands haven't said anything, they are definitely watching. If you don't speak up now, they'll take it as your admission!"

Lu Zhixian put down the cloth.

He looked up at Old Zhao. There was no trace of anxiety on his face; he even had a slight smile.

"Sit down."

"I can't sit still! My dear Brother Lu."

Old Zhao gritted his teeth and plopped onto the single sofa opposite him.

Lu Zhixian held the guitar in his arms and adjusted his sitting posture.

"What's the rush?"

Old Zhao rubbed his face hard with both hands.

"I'm not in a rush? Your Weibo has already fallen! It's full of people telling you to respond, some are even shouting for you to get out of the entertainment industry."

"This is a premeditated capital trap; they want to roast you dry on the fire!"

"They say I'm a capital trap?" Lu Zhixian chuckled.

"Then let them see what kind of thing capital can't create no matter how much money they throw at it."

Old Zhao looked up, full of confusion.

Lu Zhixian didn't explain.

He took a phone stand from the shelf nearby, placed it on the coffee table, and clipped his phone in.

He adjusted the angle.

The light hit his face, half in light and half in shadow.

Old Zhao was completely bewildered.

"What are you doing? A live stream clarification?"

"Listen to a little tune."

Lu Zhixian clicked the video recording button on his phone.

Lu Zhixian's right thumb suddenly struck the guitar body, making a bang.

Immediately after, a series of dense melodies poured out.

Old Zhao's eyes widened instantly.

His left hand slid frantically up and down the fretboard, not only pressing chords but also forcefully striking the strings from time to time to make sound.

The right hand was even more exaggerated, strumming while using different parts of the palm to hit various parts of the guitar.

The speed was breathtaking.

Lu Zhixian lowered his head and closed his eyes.

The fingerstyle track "Conny Berghäll" was recreated in his hands.

For the final outro, Lu Zhixian's right hand slapped the strings suddenly, producing a beautiful harmonic, while his left hand slid down for a long glissando.

Old Zhao maintained his leaning forward posture, his mouth slightly open, and the PR statements he was clutching had already crumpled into scrap paper.

He didn't understand guitar.

But just now, his scalp felt numb listening to it.

Lu Zhixian opened his eyes.

He reached out for his phone and clicked to end the recording.

His fingers tapped quickly on the screen.

Only then did Old Zhao suddenly snap out of it and swallow. "You... what was that you just played? When did you practice this?"

Lu Zhixian ignored him and opened Weibo directly.

He clicked to post a Weibo.

He selected the video he just recorded.

"Don't just post randomly!" Old Zhao hurriedly lunged over.

"If you post a video now without any caption, those haters will use it against you. They'll say you're being deliberately mysterious!"

Lu Zhixian's finger had already clicked the send button.

Sent successfully.

This fresh Weibo post only had a two-minute pure enjoyment video.

No title.

No explanation.

In the caption area, there was only a clean guitar emoji.

Old Zhao covered his face in despair and slumped back onto the sofa.

"It's over. Brother, my dear Brother. The fire is singeing your eyebrows, and you post a video of yourself 'plucking cotton'."

"Believe it or not, within ten minutes, your comment section will be completely drowned in spit."

"These people are in a fit of rage; you're just handing them your head on a silver platter!"

Lu Zhixian put down the guitar, stood up, and stretched.

"Wait ten minutes," he said.

The sky outside had completely darkened. In the reflection of the floor-to-ceiling window, Lu Zhixian's eyes were as calm as water.

Old Zhao sat on the sofa, his whole being radiating deep despair.

He felt he could already foresee the tragic scene of Weibo crashing and the entire internet mocking them.

Five minutes passed.

Old Zhao didn't dare look at his phone.

Eight minutes passed.

Lu Zhixian took a cup to the water dispenser to get some water.

The ninth minute.

Old Zhao's phone on the coffee table suddenly vibrated.

Then.

"Buzz— Buzz— Buzz— Buzz—"

The phone began to light up, go out, and light up again quickly.

Old Zhao was startled and quickly grabbed the phone.

He had set up several special follows.

As long as a real big shot in the industry made a move, the phone would make a specific notification sound.

At this moment, the special notification sound representing the "highest authority in the Chinese music scene" rang.

With trembling hands, Old Zhao opened Weibo.

The top position on the hot search list was changing at a speed visible to the naked eye.

The original #Lu Zhixian Capital Trap# was forcibly pushed down.

A new hashtag landed directly and went viral.

#Li Zhong Reposts Lu Zhixian's Video#

Old Zhao's eyes almost popped out.

Li Zhong.

A living fossil of the Chinese guitar world.

The guitarists of those top domestic bands have to bow and call him "Grandmaster" when they see him.

Old Zhao hurriedly clicked into Li Zhong's Weibo homepage.

The latest post was made a minute ago.

The reposted content was exactly Lu Zhixian's pure fingerstyle video with no caption and only a guitar emoji.

Li Zhong's accompanying text was even more minimalist than Lu Zhixian's.

Only three punctuation marks.

"!!!"

Three exclamation marks in a row.

These three exclamation marks, coming from the name Li Zhong, were more deafening than a ten-thousand-word PR statement.

Old Zhao's hand shook, and the phone dropped onto the coffee table with a thud.

He suddenly looked up at Lu Zhixian, who was leaning against the water dispenser drinking water.

Lu Zhixian swallowed the last sip of water, threw the paper cup accurately into the trash can, and turned to look at the dumbfounded Old Zhao.

"Old Zhao, what's wrong with you?"