Chapter Seventeen: The System's Peculiarity

His mind had been flooded with so many words and images that Su Tong’s head was spinning. The next day, he overslept again and didn’t wake until a phone call roused him from his hazy dreams.

He glanced at the screen—it was Fang Zhangxin calling.

“Hello?” Su Tong answered, still half-asleep.

As soon as the call connected, a mature, alluring woman’s voice came through: “Hello, Nian Nujiao. Do you have time now? I’ve already arrived in Seaside City. Would it be convenient to have lunch together?”

Su Tong snapped awake. Was it almost noon already? He checked the time—indeed, it was nearly twelve o’clock.

And this Zhangxin really moved fast; she said she’d come, and here she was.

“Ah, Ms. Zhang, you got here so quickly! I’m afraid lunch might be a bit rushed. Are you in the city center? My home is in Jinzhou District, not one of those central areas—it’s a bit far,” Su Tong replied, feeling somewhat embarrassed by her enthusiasm. He wasn’t sure he could handle it.

“Jinzhou District?” Zhangxin paused, then said, “That’s fine. Even if you eat lunch an hour late, there’s still time. I’ll be there soon.”

Su Tong was taken aback. Zhangxin seemed awfully eager—something felt off.

What he didn’t know was that, in the past few days, Nian Nujiao had started to gain traction within the industry.

Zhangxin was worried that KuKu had already caught on and might have made a deal with Su Tong. The sooner she could meet with him, the better. Even if he had already agreed to something with KuKu, she intended to disrupt it.

Su Tong could only agree to meet Zhangxin as soon as possible, but suggested they skip lunch and just have tea or coffee instead. They barely knew each other, and having a meal together on their first meeting felt awkward to him.

Zhangxin understood, but her urgency outweighed everything else. In fact, she’d flown into Seaside City at dawn and sent Su Tong two messages, but he hadn’t replied.

He simply couldn’t—he’d been sleeping.

After waiting anxiously all morning, Zhangxin couldn’t hold back any longer and called him, regardless of whether she might be disturbing him.

Jinzhou District, a coffee shop near the station.

A mature woman in professional attire and a slightly youthful, student-like young man sat across from each other at a table.

Zhangxin wore a professional smile, sweet and charming, even with a touch of warmth.

The young man before her looked even more boyish than he did on his livestreams, and more handsome as well. There was something special about him—at times he seemed to have the manners of someone raised in aristocratic circles, at others he was carefree and unrestrained, like a child from the countryside.

Zhangxin’s gaze made Su Tong feel uneasy. In his previous life, he had spent several years with wealthy adoptive parents, and the air of poverty from his birth family had long since been smoothed away.

But now, merged with the memories of this world’s Su Tong, those old insecurities and the aura of a nobody would seep out from time to time, no matter how hard he tried to hide them.

“Young heroes always amaze; no reputation can compare to meeting in person. Su Tong, you’re making me feel the pressure,” Zhangxin said, though she tried to sound lighthearted. She did, in fact, feel a bit intimidated by Su Tong’s quiet presence, which reminded her of the royal family of Great Qin.

In this democratic society, the Great Qin royals had no real power, but they were genuine aristocrats, with a lineage stretching back millennia—ordinary people couldn’t compare.

Su Tong didn’t yet realize that, though he had spent years with his adoptive family in his previous life, their influence had only given him a faint trace of noble bearing.

What made even someone as distinguished as Zhangxin feel pressured was the fact that, just last night, he’d merged with the history of the Three Kingdoms, and had unwittingly absorbed the aura of royalty from nearly two thousand years ago.

“With a beauty like you, Ms. Zhang, I’m the one who feels pressured. I can barely get a word out. It’s just as the ancients said—one can love both kingdoms and beauties, but the allure of a beautiful woman is truly overwhelming,” Su Tong replied, bashfully.

Zhangxin was no longer a young girl, but for some reason, her face grew warm at his words, even flushing slightly.

Su Tong remarked, surprised, “Ms. Zhang, do you also like handsome guys? Is that why you blush when you see one? We’re kindred spirits, then—I blush around beautiful women too. You can see for yourself, my face isn’t usually this red.”

Zhangxin was speechless. The moment Su Tong opened his mouth, all that aristocratic air vanished; he was nothing but a cheeky rascal, thick-skinned and incorrigible. She pouted, “Su Tong, if you’d just keep quiet, you’d be a national idol—everyone would love you, flowers would bloom at your feet…”

Their conversation wandered off-topic, and they bantered back and forth for some time.

After a while, Su Tong sighed, “Meeting you feels like seeing an old friend—how I wish we’d met sooner.” Then, changing the subject, he added, “It’s a shame, though. I’d love to be a national idol, not just some grassroots streamer or show host. No matter how famous or popular, it’s still a shadowy world, never quite in the limelight.”

Zhangxin’s face shifted; before they’d even touched on the main topic, was Su Tong turning her down, albeit gently?

“Su Tong, you must know that of all the streamers who made it big from the platforms, only four or five could really be called stars—and those few all came from…” Zhangxin usually took the lead when negotiating with outside streamers, but with Su Tong, she felt powerless.

She couldn’t outplay him at feigned ignorance, nor outdo him in charisma; her usual professional and negotiating edge simply evaporated, leaving her with no upper hand.

“The truth is, without a backing entertainment company, there’s no future,” Su Tong said bluntly.

Zhangxin had nothing left to retort. It was much like the feudal era; if a prince wasn’t the designated heir, no matter how wise or virtuous he was, people would still accuse him of usurping power and committing treason.

The platform’s weakness was clear: without an entertainment company, their so-called stars were ultimately just making a wedding dress for someone else, paving the way for the entertainment companies behind other platforms.

“Su Tong,” Zhangxin said, having finally made up her mind. She spoke frankly, “You know those few stars who left our platform? Do you know how their first few years after signing with an entertainment company went?”

Su Tong was surprised; he hadn’t really paid attention to that. “How so?”

“The entertainment industry is more complicated than you could ever imagine. You’re only eighteen. As Eileen Chang once said, ‘One must become famous early.’ I don’t want someone as talented as you to spend years being buried before you shine, nor do I want you to create for stars who bask in the limelight while you remain in the shadows. Signing with an entertainment company isn’t necessarily a good thing for you,” Zhangxin said seriously, looking at Su Tong with a gaze full of concern, almost like a caring elder.

Su Tong frowned slightly. He’d heard countless stories about how tough the entertainment industry was, and his own analysis agreed—it was treacherous waters. Zhangxin’s words only confirmed it. Anyone who looked into those grassroots streamers would find the same thing about their first few years after signing.

“Stars have to depend on entertainment companies to survive. Without a contract, how can I ever become a national idol?” Su Tong confessed, making no secret of his ambition to be a major star.

Zhangxin smiled. Here, she finally saw his youthful side—this would make things easier.

“If you’re gold, you’ll shine wherever you are. If you keep going as you are, I’m willing to go crazy with you—become an independent musician. With some capital, you could set up your own studio, even expand into film and television. I may not be much, but I do have some connections. I think I could just about manage as your agent,” Zhangxin said, her eyes shining, her cheeks seemingly flushed with excitement. Her heart was pounding; she hadn’t felt this alive in ages. She was born for grand ambitions, not for a quiet life as a wife and mother.

Su Tong was stunned. Was this really something a stranger would say to another stranger?

Just then, a cheerful ringtone broke the moment.

“La la, la la la, la la la la la…”