"You… what condition?"
Chen Xiaoxi's fingertips trembled slightly as she held the sheet music, her nervousness plain for all to see.
"Very simple."
Zhang Yichen leaned forward, fingers tapping rhythmically on the table as his deep, steady gaze locked onto her.
"First, you need to recover your health. Then, your comeback—everything—will be arranged by me."
"You'll arrange it?"
Chen Xiaoxi froze, as if pinned in place by an invisible force.
"Do you even know what a comeback requires? Resources, funding, publicity, connections—"
"Of course I know."
Leaning back against the sofa, Yichen's lips curved into a faint, unreadable smile.
In his previous life, he had risen from a small-time internet celebrity to the King of Singers. That journey had been two parts talent, three parts effort, and five parts luck.
There were countless people with talent. Even more who combined talent with effort. Yet true success was rare.
As Yichen put it—most simply lacked luck.
He, however, had been blessed with it.
Born in the 90s, he graduated university just as short-video platforms were emerging. A classmate had uploaded his graduation performance online—and overnight, he became an internet sensation.
That sudden fanbase soon earned him an invitation to a talent show. With their support, he won the championship and debuted as the undisputed star of the season.
From there, fame snowballed: fans plus company backing made him the youngest King of Singers of his era.
This time around, Yichen had originally planned to enjoy his college years and travel this new world before diving back into the grind.
But now? That luxury was gone.
After all, he had a child to raise.
As for Xiaoxi's comeback—taking the conventional route would be nearly impossible. Her old company would never allow her to rise again so easily. And every top-tier female singer, every reigning queen of music, would see her as a threat and block her path.
So Yichen decided she would walk the same road he had once taken.
The difference was that this world lagged behind Earth by about twenty years—roughly equivalent to Earth in 2010.
Smartphones had only just become common. The internet was still in its early stages. Food delivery apps, ridesharing, short-video platforms… none of them existed yet.
By his estimate, those industries would explode within three to eight years.
Originally, Yichen had intended to wait until after traveling the world to unveil these ideas. Now, he would have to act sooner.
After all, he carried not only over two hundred songs in his memory but also knowledge of computer science and technology—thanks to the neuro-machine chip.
He had already recreated the most popular apps of his previous life. But copying was one thing; launching them was another.
A tech company needed two things above all: traffic and manpower.
Until now, he had everything but talent.
Now, with Chen Xiaoxi by his side, things had changed.
She was already a "Queen of Singing," a star with fame and her own following. That meant instant traffic.
With just a few hires in tech, operations, and maintenance, he could launch a short-video platform.
The benefits would be threefold: no need to waste money on advertising, Xiaoxi would have a stage for her comeback, and the platform itself would skyrocket.
Seeing how confident he was, Chen Xiaoxi couldn't help but ask curiously, "Can you tell me your plan?"
Truthfully, as long as she had funding, she was confident in her comeback. And she knew Yichen had money.
When she had first searched for him, she found an article online with his photo. Sichuan Vocational College had just awarded him five million ron for a breakthrough research project in computer science.
Naturally, she assumed he planned to invest that money into her career.
"I'll show you something first."
Yichen stood, walked to the desk, picked up his laptop, and returned to the coffee table.
"Here, take a look at this."
He sat beside her, pointing to a desktop icon labeled amuse.
"'Amuse'? What's that supposed to mean?"
Xiaoxi blinked in confusion.
"Amuse—as in entertain. 'Mus'—as in music. Open it up. I'll go clear the table."
They had talked happily through dinner, and Yichen had forgotten the dishes were still out.
"Alright."
She clicked on the program, curious what exactly gave him such confidence.
The screen opened to a series of videos—young men playing guitar.
Looking closer, she realized they were all the same person.
He had sharp brows, bright eyes, and finely sculpted features like a piece of art. His skin was smooth, almost porcelain-like—better than most women's.
Looking again… he looked shockingly similar to Yichen.
"What a ridiculously handsome man…"
She murmured without thinking, then glanced at Yichen. Her face immediately flushed crimson.
"Heh."
Returning from the kitchen, Yichen only chuckled.
Those videos had been his test recordings for the software.
His amusement only deepened her embarrassment.
Her composure—where had it gone?
No, she refused to admit she was that shallow.
It had to be the heat. Yes, that was it.
Trying to convince herself, she clicked on one of the videos.
Gentle guitar notes chimed—bright and soothing.
"Huh? This is…?"
The melody sounded familiar. And then, the voice began to sing:
I want to have a home,A place that doesn't need to be luxurious,When I'm tired,I can think of it…
It was one of Yichen's songs.
And the singer in the video…
The clip lasted barely ten seconds, but the emotion and skill in it struck her to the core.
"That person is you?"
"Yes."
His answer was firm and certain.
"But… it doesn't really look like you."
She stole another glance at him, her heart racing. She hadn't expected that charming face to belong to him. Nor had she expected his singing to be so outstanding.
"You know what beautification filters are, right?"
"Beautification? I… think so?"
She wasn't sure if he meant beauty in the literal sense or something else.
"Here, give me the laptop."
Yichen didn't explain. Instead, he closed amuse and opened another program—Cut.
He pulled up a raw video, made a few quick edits, and exported it back to the desktop.
"Watch these two videos. Tell me what's different."
No long explanations, no wasted words.
He simply handed her the laptop.
Facts spoke louder than anything else.
"This… this is…"
Her eyes widened as she compared the two.
The storyline and setting were identical. But the processed version looked more vibrant, the colors richer, and the person more radiant.
She had never imagined software like this could exist.