Chapter 6: Skill Chest Unlocked! Master of Words and Melody
Chen Mo practically floated out of Qingcheng International.
One million knocked off the debt. A system skill chest waiting to be opened. A meeting with a top-tier pop star scheduled for tomorrow. Life was finally looking up.
He found a quiet corner in a nearby park, sat down on a bench, and focused inward.
The Random Skill Chest sat in his system inventory, glowing faintly. It pulsed with potential, waiting to be cracked open.
"Open it," he whispered.
The chest burst open with a flash of golden light—
[Congratulations, Host! Permanent passive skill acquired: [Lyric & Composition Mastery (Master Level)]!]
Information flooded his brain like a dam breaking.
Music theory. Chord progressions. Melody structures. Lyric writing techniques. Rhythm patterns. Arrangement principles. Centuries of musical knowledge compressed into a single moment of pure understanding.
Chen Mo's fingers twitched, aching to touch a piano keyboard. His lips moved silently, forming words that rhymed and flowed with effortless grace. He could hear entire orchestras in his head, symphonies waiting to be written, songs waiting to be born.
"Holy shit." His voice came out hoarse. "Holy. Shit."
This wasn't just knowing how to write songs. This was understanding music at a cellular level. He could deconstruct any song he'd ever heard, rebuild it better, create something entirely new that would make people stop and listen.
This was exactly what he needed for Su Mengli.
[Ding! New mission issued: Resolve Second Creditor Su Mengli's Creative Crisis.]
[Mission Requirements: Provide one original song that she recognizes as high-quality and commercially viable.]
[Mission Rewards: Debt Reduction ¥3,000,000, System Points +1,000, Special Item [Inspiration Catalyst] x1.]
Three million. A thousand points. And a special item that could probably help with Qin Qing's medical problems later.
Chen Mo's grin widened. Music paid better than corporate espionage. Who knew?
He pulled out his phone and stared at the text from Su Mengli's manager.
"Tomorrow, 2pm, The Velvet Bean."
Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough.
---
The Velvet Bean was the kind of coffee shop that charged fifty yuan for a latte and expected you to thank them for the privilege.
Chen Mo showed up at 1:55, wearing his one good suit and trying not to look like he'd bought it off a clearance rack. The interior was all exposed brick and velvet couches, filled with people who looked like they spent more on haircuts than he spent on rent.
A woman in designer glasses approached him immediately. Forties, sharp features, clipboard in hand. Manager energy radiating off her in waves.
"Mr. Chen? I'm Zhang Wei, Su Mengli's manager. Thank you for coming." Her handshake was firm, her eyes scanning him like she was appraising livestock. "I have to admit, I was skeptical when I heard about your... performance at the business gala. But several industry people have mentioned your name since then."
"I'm just a guy who knows how to write songs." Chen Mo kept it casual. "Your artist needs one, apparently."
"We need more than one." Zhang Wei led him to a private room in the back. "Ms. Su has been working on her new album for eight months. The label has rejected every lead single we've submitted. They're saying if we don't deliver something by the end of the month, they'll push the release to next year. That's not acceptable."
She opened the door.
The private room was smaller than the main space, dimly lit, with a baby grand piano in the corner. A woman sat on the velvet couch, scrolling through her phone.
She looked up.
Su Mengli was even more stunning in person. The camera didn't capture the depth of her eyes, the slight melancholy that lingered at the corners of her mouth. She was thinner than her publicity photos suggested, shadows under her eyes that makeup couldn't hide. The pressure was getting to her.
"Mr. Chen." Her voice was softer than he expected. No pretense. No star attitude. Just... tired. "Thank you for coming."
"You're welcome. But let's be clear about something before we go any further." Chen Mo didn't sit. He stood in the center of the room, meeting her gaze directly. "This is a business transaction. I provide a song. You pay for it. No favors. No charity. Clear?"
Zhang Wei's eyebrows rose. Su Mengli blinked, clearly not used to being spoken to like that.
"Of course," the singer said slowly. "What's your price?"
"Three million yuan. Per song." Chen Mo watched her reaction. "Cash. Or debt reduction. Either works for me."
Three million was steep. For an unknown songwriter? It was insane. Even established hitmakers rarely commanded that price.
Zhang Wei opened her mouth to argue.
Su Mengli held up a hand.
"Three million." She studied him with those dark, tired eyes. "That's a lot for someone who's never written a commercially released song."
"It's not a lot for a song that saves your album." Chen Mo shrugged. "I'm not here to negotiate. Either you want to hear what I can do, or I walk out that door and you find someone else to write your next forgettable single."
Silence stretched between them.
Then Su Mengli stood up, walked to the piano, and gestured at the bench. "Show me."
Chen Mo sat down at the piano. His fingers touched the keys, and something clicked into place. The flood of musical knowledge in his brain found an outlet.
He closed his eyes.
He thought about Su Mengli. The exhaustion behind her beauty. The pressure to perform, to be perfect, to smile for cameras when she wanted to scream. The way she carried herself like a prisoner in a gilded cage.
His fingers moved.
The first notes floated through the room—slow, melancholic, a melody that felt like rain on a window pane. Then his voice joined in, raw and unpolished but charged with emotion:
"Walking through a neon cage,
Every smile a painted page.
No one sees behind the glass—
The girl who's fading, fading fast...
I want to scream into the night,
Tear off the mask, let them see the fight.
Break these chains, let the real me fly—
Even if it means I crash and die..."
The lyrics poured out of him, faster than he could think. Images of breaking free, of shedding expectations, of becoming something real and raw and true. A song about transformation. About liberation. About a caged bird finally finding its wings.
He played through to the final chord, then let his hands fall still.
The silence that followed was absolute.
Chen Mo opened his eyes.
Zhang Wei stood frozen by the door, mouth slightly open. Her clipboard hung forgotten at her side.
Su Mengli hadn't moved from where she stood by the piano. But her eyes were wet.
Tears traced silent paths down her cheeks.
"That's..." Her voice cracked. "That's exactly how I feel. Every word. Every note. It's like you reached inside my head and—" She stopped, pressing a hand to her mouth.
Chen Mo stood up from the piano bench, letting the moment settle. "That's just the verse and chorus. I have the full arrangement in my head. Bridge, second verse, key change for the final chorus. It'll chart. I guarantee it."
Su Mengli looked at her manager. Zhang Wei nodded slowly, her earlier skepticism completely gone.
"Three million," the manager said quietly. "For the exclusive rights to that song. Full buyout."
"Plus production credits." Chen Mo wasn't done negotiating. "I produce it. No one else touches the arrangement."
"That's unusual for an unknown—"
"I don't care." He met Zhang Wei's eyes. "You want this song to save your album? You let me produce it the way it's supposed to sound. Or you find someone else to write you a generic pop track that'll chart for three weeks and disappear."
Su Mengli made the decision before her manager could respond. "Deal. Three million. You produce. And I want you to write me more."
She pulled out her phone, tapped the screen a few times, then showed him the display.
A payment confirmation.
And a debt reduction notification.
[Debt Reduction: ¥3,000,000 applied. Creditor: Su Mengli.]
Chen Mo stared at the number on the screen. Three million. Just like that.
[Ding! Mission "Resolve Second Creditor Su Mengli's Creative Crisis" complete!]
[Rewards: Debt Reduction ¥3,000,000 applied. System Points +1,000. Special Item [Inspiration Catalyst] deposited to inventory.]
[Host's current total debt: ¥95,950,000. Remaining Points: 1,500.]
He pocketed his phone, feeling lighter than he had in months. Almost five million knocked off the debt in less than two weeks. At this rate—
"Mr. Chen." Su Mengli's voice pulled him back. She was looking at him differently now. Not like a business partner. Something else. Something he couldn't quite name.
"Call me Chen Mo."
"Chen Mo." She tested the name on her tongue. "Where did you learn to write like that?"
"Nowhere. Everywhere." He shrugged, not wanting to explain the system. "Just something I can do."
"Something you can do." She smiled—the first real smile he'd seen from her. It transformed her face, chasing away some of the shadows. "That song you just played. It felt like you knew me. Like you'd been inside my head."
"I'm good at reading people."
"Is that all?"
Their eyes met. Something crackled in the space between them. Interest. Curiosity. The beginning of something Chen Mo wasn't sure he wanted to name.
Zhang Wei cleared her throat. "We should discuss the production timeline. The label needs—"
"The label can wait." Su Mengli didn't look away from Chen Mo. "Dinner tonight. My treat. We can talk about the album then."
It wasn't a request.
Chen Mo considered saying no. Considered maintaining professional distance. But three million yuan in his pocket and a pop star looking at him like he was the most interesting person she'd met in years...
"I'm free at eight."
Su Mengli's smile widened. "I'll send you the address."
---
Chen Mo left The Velvet Bean with his head spinning.
A CEO who owed him a million. A pop star who'd just paid him three. And somewhere out there, a genius surgeon whose crisis was counting down like a ticking bomb.
Three goddesses. Three debts. Three paths to freedom.
His phone buzzed with an incoming message. Unknown number.
"Dr. Qin Qing's project is being sabotaged from within. Internal review scheduled for next week. If you have any interest in helping, meet me at the hospital tomorrow. No obligation. Just information."
Chen Mo stared at the message.
Someone was reaching out to him about Qin Qing. Before he'd even made contact. That meant someone knew he was connected to her. Someone was watching.
He typed back: "Time and place."
The reply came immediately: "10 AM. Main hospital lobby. Look for the woman in the white coat who's not supposed to be there."
Chen Mo pocketed his phone and started walking.
Tomorrow, he'd deal with the surgeon. Tomorrow, he'd figure out who was pulling strings behind the scenes.
But tonight?
Tonight he had dinner with a pop star who looked at him like he was the answer to every question she'd ever asked.
He smiled to himself.
Maybe this debt thing wasn't so bad after all.
---
End of Chapter 6