Mandarin pop?

In a world devoid of "divine songs," the phenomenon of a single track sweeping the entire globe had never occurred. This was not merely because the song Li Daniu plagiarized was a true classic—one that had earned an eight-times platinum certification in his previous life in the United States—but also because its singer was hailed as a genuine idol of the common people.

Jule’s image was unlike any other star in this world. Apart from formally trained singers, most contestants selected by talent shows were young, attractive men and women, packaged by their labels. No matter how well they sang, they could never escape the burden of being "idols." Jule, however, was the first middle-aged woman in history to win such a competition. Furthermore, the show itself broke countless records, with its finale drawing over fifty million viewers in the United States.

Logically, a singer emerging from such a massive program and signed to the high-profile TC Entertainment—as their flagship artist—should have been meticulously packaged. Yet, in reality, when Jule appeared on stage for the championship finale, she was dressed simply, wearing almost no makeup, appearing exactly like an ordinary person. While many claimed this was a ploy to garner sympathy, the mainstream view was far less cynical; most believed this was simply her true nature. And that was precisely why she was so beloved. Much like Susan Boyle in his previous life, her life outside of singing was no different from anyone else’s—she still went to the market to buy her own groceries. How could people not love an idol who stood in such stark contrast to those who always appeared distant and superior?

Moreover, Jule’s voice and her newly honed vocal techniques perfectly embodied the concept of "heavenly sounds." With such a voice paired with a song that had swept nearly every major Grammy award in his previous life, how could it not take the world by storm? Even in countries where English was not the primary language, people were moved by the rhythm, the melody, and Jule’s voice after hearing it online. Music transcends borders; not understanding the lyrics did not mean one could not love the song. Especially after searching for Jule’s background and learning her story, people loved her even more. This narrative of an ordinary person becoming a global sensation in just two months was more inspiring than any motivational tale; who could watch it without being moved?

While Jule and the song became massive hits, the biggest beneficiary was not the profit-making TC Entertainment music division, but their boss, Li Daniu. The gain for Li Daniu was not the six or seven million dollars in download fees earned over the past few days, but his fame. Just as Jule’s experience felt like an inspirational movie, the song’s creator, Li Daniu, felt like a legend.

A book might be well-written but ignored by many; a television show might be excellent but disliked by some; a horror movie might be terrifying but avoided by those who dislike the genre. Music, however, could permeate everyone’s life. Every hit song is played repeatedly on the radio, through online players, as background music in malls or restaurants, and even in small grocery stores on every street corner.

"What song is this?" This question had become the most frequently asked in the world over the past few days. And when people learned the title and searched for it to listen at home, they would inevitably discover the story behind it.

Jule’s story was inspirational, but Li Daniu’s story was already being called legendary. He had abandoned his studies at Harvard, the world’s top university, to inherit a nation on the brink of extinction. To save his country, he wrote a book titled *The Lord of the Rings* and exchanged it for sovereignty over an archipelago of over six hundred square kilometers. To improve the standard of living for his people, he provided every citizen with a monthly stipend of three thousand dollars. Comparing this to the previous per capita GDP of Tuvalu and the lack of water and vegetable resources, it was as if he had single-handedly lifted an entire nation from the bottom of the world to the very forefront.

What was most shocking was the way Li Daniu made his money: writing books, producing films, making television shows, and writing songs to launch singers. Most people had heard of *The Lord of the Rings* and its record-breaking sales, even if they hadn't read it. The reputation of *Harry Potter* had also been flooded with praise from middle-schoolers, turning it from a "bad book" into a classic. He had only produced one film, but with a budget of two hundred thousand dollars, it had grossed nearly two hundred million; the film was still in theaters, and a global box office of over two hundred million was highly likely. His show, *The Voice of America*, not only generated two hundred and fifty million dollars in advertising revenue for its first season, but the internet was filled with rumors of people waving astronomical checks to purchase ad space for the second season. Its viewership of over fifty million set the highest record for a non-sports event in American television history.

As for the songs, the most interesting part was Li Daniu’s post on EyeBook: "Been learning to write songs lately. It feels pretty easy, so I wrote a few..."

*A song this good, written casually by someone who just started learning? Then what about the others?*

Songs were different from other works. You might mention a movie or a book to ten people and find several who don't like it. But if you ask ten people about a good song, it is very likely they will all like it. Thus, as Li Daniu’s follower count on EyeBook skyrocketed, countless people left comments on his page.

"Begging for the other songs!"
"Your Majesty, are the others not as good as this one? Is that why you’re afraid to release them?"
"You said you wrote a few, so why only give Jule one? Are you only doing singles and no albums?"
"Your Majesty, you shouldn't favor one over the other. Jule won the championship, but our home-grown geek Jordan won second place! Didn't you sign him too? Can't you give him a song? They’re all your artists, does it matter who sings it?"
"I agree with the person above. Your Majesty, give Jordan a song so he can sing it to the girl he likes."
"Comrade Daniu, your Mandarin is so good, why not write a Mandarin song? Didn't you say you consider us Chinese your fellow countrymen? This isn't very fair, is it?"
"Is the person above from China too? Which VPN do you use to bypass the firewall?"

Li Daniu had always been the type to return kindness with interest. With so many fans commenting, he naturally had to give an answer.

"Writing songs isn't like buying cabbage; they don't just appear that easily. I spent half a month learning to write songs and only managed to write three. However, one of them is a confession song written specifically for Jordan. It’s currently being recorded and should be released today—please help us climb the charts! As for the request from my fellow countrymen, how could I not satisfy it? I’ll write a Mandarin song in the next couple of days, but my company doesn't have any Mandarin-speaking singers. Any recommendations?"

After Li Daniu posted this, instead of receiving countless likes like before, he was hit with a wave of "dislikes." Alongside the dislikes, netizens left comments:

"I have never seen such a shameless person. Dislike!"
"Half a month? May I ask how long you spent learning to write, and how long you spent on the actual creation of these three songs? Dislike!"
"My anticipation for the other two songs has vanished instantly. Dislike!"
"A songwriter is lucky to write one song of *Rolling in the Deep*’s caliber in their entire life. Are you slapping them in the face? Dislike!"
"Your Majesty, do you know how easy it is to offend people like this? Dislike!"
"If Jordan sings your confession song, will he fail his confession? Dislike!"
"If the other two songs are as popular as *Rolling in the Deep*, I’ll livestream myself eating crap. Dislike!"
"Agreed with the person above, dislike!"

Aside from these, the Chinese netizens simply replied with names, listing almost every Chinese singer in existence. EyeBook, being quite cooperative, set up a Mandarin-version poll on Li Daniu’s page, listing the most recommended singers.

The results after three hours were completely unexpected for Li Daniu. The person with the most votes was not a famous Chinese singer, but Li Daniu himself—and his vote count was higher than the sum of all other singers combined.

"Are you sure you want to hear me sing?" After Li Daniu posted this, he once again enjoyed the treatment of receiving countless likes instantly.

The netizens replied:
"You’re already writing books, making movies, and producing shows, so what’s wrong with singing? If writing songs is that easy, wouldn't singing be even easier?"
"I am willing to sacrifice my ears just to hear you sing."