To Claire, the initial part of the interview was painfully dull—none of the dramatic scenarios he'd imagined played out.
[Claire Lee, what are your expectations for your future at Manchester United? Has your uncle laid out a career path for you in football?]
Claire glanced up at the scruffy-bearded reporter from The Times sports section and answered without hesitation:
"Well, I don't know if you've heard, but my uncle recently acquired a fifth-tier club in Newcastle. Even before that, he entrusted my sports management contract to Mr. Costa. Mr. Costa respects my choices, so right now, I just want to focus on my role at United. I'm still young, after all."
[Claire Lee, could you share the inspiration behind your song 'One Day'? Did you know it's a huge hit in the U.S.?]
Hearing the gentle, cultured voice, Claire perked up. The elegant woman from The New York Times entertainment section—whose name he didn't catch—had already made him decide: Next time, I'm requesting her for another interview.
"Honestly, when I first found out 'The Nights' wasn't as popular as 'One Day,' I was shocked."
"The only reason I gained attention outside of football was through YouTube, and 'The Nights' already has over 10 million views there."
"After looking into it, I realized Warner Online's main traffic comes from North America. The platform barely markets in the UK, so I'm sure 'The Nights' will catch up eventually."
"As for 'One Day'… the inspiration was personal. My parents died in a terrorist attack when I was young. Ever since, I've wondered—if there were no wars, would they still be here? Would they be cheering for me on the sidelines?"
Claire's voice wavered slightly, his eyes glistening.
"I just want my future children to grow up safely under the sun."
"When I first heard 'Transformers' needed a song, I was nervous. It's Spielberg's film—I'm a fan! I didn't want to mess up. But when I learned the movie had an anti-war theme, the lyrics just poured out of me."
[Many of your songs are tied to your childhood. Off-topic, but did you ever feel inspired to write a song for Megan Fox back then?]
The moment the question left the reporter's mouth, Claire knew—Oh no.
The "bond" had activated again. His body moved on its own.
"Of course. If there's a chance in the future, you'll hear it. After all… she's that girl."
A bitter smile tugged at his lips. The reporters, ever opportunistic with their cameras, snapped away. The female journalist promised not to publish it, but the starstruck look in her eyes told Claire—another celebrity gossip headline incoming.
Costa Mayol shot the woman a warning glance and signaled for the interview to continue. The Daily Telegraph reporter deferred to the NetEase Sports journalist beside them.
NetEase Sports' Big Break
Before 2008, media outside of state-run CCTV had to rely on connections or deep pockets to secure interviews with international stars.
Though NetEase was already listed on NASDAQ and had some U.S. influence, their UK sports division was struggling. Premier League clubs only recognized a handful of familiar faces—unless you were CCTV, you were nobody.
Du Chan's job at NetEase Sports was to chase after athletes in the Premier League or scrape together secondhand gossip for domestic readers. For an ambitious journalist, it was soul-crushing work.
Then, one day, she spotted a Manchester United announcement: [Claire Lee Signs Three-Game Contract].
A quick Google search revealed Claire was of Asian descent.
This is my chance.
After bribing her way in with £100, Du Chan secured a backstage press pass. Her persistence—and perhaps her ethnicity—caught Claire's attention. She even got Lucy Pinder's business card.
Weeks passed. Just as she was losing hope, Claire's team reached out—exclusive interview granted.
She nearly lost her mind.
Claire Lee wasn't just a rising football star at Manchester United—he was a British and American sensation, a musician, a hero.
Excited, she bragged to her NYU classmate: "I'm about to ride this hype train to the top!"
Her friend, unimpressed, replied: **"Congrats. If you make it big, put in a word for me at Vogue ."**
At the hospital, Du Chan was overwhelmed by the swarm of high-profile journalists. But Lucy Pinder greeted her warmly, coaching her on dos and don'ts—**"Claire's chill, don't stress."**
[Hello, I'm Du Chan from NetEase Sports. Uh… um…]
Claire chuckled at her nervousness. "Relax! You can speak Mandarin—I'm from Chengdu, Sichuan!"
Du Chan took a deep breath and steadied herself.
[Are you proud of your heritage?]
Claire paused. The question was sharp—and definitely not on the approved list.
"I'm proud of my roots. I miss my grandfather and father dearly. Though I've never been back, I hope work takes me there someday."
Encouraged by his professionalism, Du Chan pressed on.
[I interviewed your uncle. After acquiring the fifth-tier club 'Castle,' he invested heavily and even brought in Manchester United's youth coaches. He mentioned possibly inviting youth players into their system. What are your thoughts?]
Claire was stunned. She interviewed my uncle?
He'd wanted to collaborate with NetEase—but she'd walked right into his trap.
"Absolutely. Castle may be fifth-tier now, but with United's support and a season-long friendly contract, I believe they'll climb to League Two or even League One quickly. Any player would thrive there."
Just as Du Chan prepared another question, Lucy smoothly cut in—Claire was sweating bullets, worried she'd ask something ban-worthy.
Aftermath
The moment the interview ended, Claire collapsed onto his hospital bed, exhausted.
Lucy adjusted his pillow and whispered, "Should I schedule the NetEase reporter at your place tomorrow?"
"Yeah, my injury's still bad. Can't go to a café."
"Got it."
Before leaving, Lucy dramatically kissed his cheek—right in front of a flustered Jessica Jung.
Costa Mayol, unfazed, pulled out a stack of contracts.
"Congrats. Your singles are selling like crazy. Levi's wants you—$800K deal. Should ease your financial woes."
Claire grinned. "F*ck yeah! That'll do!"
Not bad for a rookie. Cristiano Ronaldo had the Agnelli family backing him—Claire was building his empire one song at a time.
"The Nights" alone had already raked in $2.1 million in licensing fees—TV shows, sports events, festivals. After taxes, Claire pocketed $800K, not even counting streaming royalties.
Costa sighed. Passive income… must be nice.