Outside the club, the night air was chilly. Chen Kai stood under a streetlamp, his face grave.
"Teacher Chen! What happened…" Lin Chen was both surprised and delighted, yet also filled with lingering fear.
"I was worried, so I asked a friend to work as a waiter inside, to keep an eye on things." Chen Kai looked at him and sighed. "Judging from your appearance, you've learned a lesson." The female contestant, still shaken, thanked Lin Chen and Chen Kai tearfully before quickly hailing a taxi and leaving.
Sitting in Chen Kai's old, secondhand car, Lin Chen watched the neon lights rushing past the window. For the first time, he felt a deep fear and doubt about this "outside world" he had once so longed for.
The drinking party ordeal had been like a resounding slap, shattering his last shred of unrealistic illusions about the entertainment industry. He clearly saw how deep the darkness and how dirty the deals were hidden behind that glittering starlight.
He knew that his "lack of appreciation" tonight had likely sown the seeds of future trouble.
Back in Chen Kai's studio, filled with instruments and memories, it was late at night. Lin Chen sat on the familiar old sofa, holding a steaming cup of herbal tea, his fingers still trembling slightly from the recent ordeal. Only a dim desk lamp illuminated the studio, casting long shadows of the two men onto the walls covered with record covers.
"How are you feeling?" Chen Kai's voice was low, carrying a weary weariness born of worldly experience.
Lin Chen opened his mouth, but found his throat too dry to speak. He gulped down a large mouthful of warm tea, the bitterness mingling with the sweet aftertaste, before managing to utter, "...like a nightmare." He described the nauseating smell of alcohol in the private room, Mr. Liu's appraising gaze, Producer Zhao's unyielding pressure, and finally, that bottle of foreign liquor, like poison.
Chen Kai listened quietly, without interrupting, until Lin Chen finished speaking. Then he sighed deeply, his eyes sharp as knives: "This is the price. You think standing on stage receiving applause comes without a price? This is one of them. Your talent is your ticket, but to stay at the table, some people think you need to sacrifice something else—dignity, principles, even…your soul."
"But…" Lin Chen looked up, his eyes filled with confusion and struggle, "Does wanting to sing well mean you have to compromise your principles? Does it mean you can't have any bottom line?"
"Good question." Chen Kai stood up, pacing in the small space. "I asked myself this question countless times when I was young. The answer is—not necessarily. But choosing to uphold your bottom line means you have to walk a more difficult, more lonely path. You will anger those who make the rules, you will be isolated, suppressed, and perhaps even…completely buried."
His gaze fell on a faded black-and-white photograph on the wall—a young band with stubborn eyes, standing on a simple stage. "I used to think music could be pure, just like you. Then… the band broke up, some compromised, some left the scene. I chose the latter, staying in this run-down studio, teaching students, taking odd jobs, at least… I can sleep peacefully."
Silence fell in the studio, broken only by the ticking of the old clock. Lin Chen could sense the heavy, weathered helplessness in Chen Kai's words.