However, after clicking it open and seeing the display on the screen, David Foster's face instantly turned pale.

On the screen was a notification for a new song by a composer he followed on this season's newcomer chart: "Hehe, My Dear You," singer Betty Chase, composer John Foster, produced by Silver Wing Media.

Composer... John Foster!

John Foster!

He didn't even pay attention to the song title—those two characters, "John Foster," stung David Foster's eyes. Yet, as if he were torturing himself, he stared at that name for a full minute before, with somewhat stiff fingers, he tapped the preview option. After that, David Foster never left his room. Inside, it was deathly silent.

That afternoon, when David Foster was called to the company, someone tried to approach him for a chat, only to find that David Foster's face was as pale as a ghost—truly frightening.

"What happened to him?" the employees discussed privately.

"No idea. He did pretty well in the rookie competition. All three of his songs made it into the top hundred, and one even broke into the top ten."

"I was worried he might lose his tenth place, but isn't he pretty secure?" said an employee from Neon Light, glancing at the rankings.

No one knew what David Foster was feeling now. Although he didn't have much talent for composing, he could listen. He could always tell which songs would become hits and which wouldn't—his tastes just happened to align with the public's. Precisely because of this, he knew all too well what kind of upheaval John Foster's song might bring. If John Foster were alone, it wouldn't be enough to threaten him, but behind John Foster stood Silver Wing Media—one of the so-called "Big Three"!

As long as Silver Wing opened up its promotional channels for newcomers, John Foster would definitely rise!

Twenty days—neither long nor short, but actually not that short.

How could it be!

How could it be?

It's only been a few days—how could John Foster have something ready already?!

He must have finished it long ago and kept it hidden, that's for sure!

So John Foster was guarding against him all along!

David Foster thought again of the look John Foster gave him when he was moving out of Black Street. At the time, that look felt to David Foster like a hidden threat lurking beneath the deep sea. Now, the threat had surfaced, glaringly obvious before him!

It was June, and the temperature in Yanzhou was already quite high, yet David Foster felt icy cold all over, as if he'd just been dragged out of an ice cellar.

As one of the three major entertainment companies in Yanzhou, even though Silver Wing had weakened in recent years, its promotional channels were still unmatched by many smaller companies. After the new song was uploaded, it was promoted through all the special channels available to newcomers.

Qian Music Academy, campus communication platform.

"It's here! A newly uploaded song for newcomers, pushed by Silver Wing, and the composer is John Foster!"

"Hurry up and download it! At least we're from the same school—let's show some support."

"Brothers and sisters from the composition department, go support senior John Foster!"

"Downloaded and supported!"

"Downloaded +1!"

"I'm an instrumental major, but I'll do my part too."

Many people didn't even listen to the song, but joined in to support the newly graduated seniors. This wasn't a privilege exclusive to John Foster; every outstanding graduate enjoyed this kind of support.

There were also some who had no intention of supporting John Foster—they didn't know him and were rooting for other newcomers. But they couldn't help being curious about John Foster. What kind of work would someone who entered the competition so late in the season submit?

Silver Wing dared to put John Foster in the game at this point, letting him compete on the charts—it couldn't possibly be a shoddy piece of work. Even if John Foster wanted to, Silver Wing couldn't afford to lose face like that.

In a dorm room at a university in Qian City, a third-year student, with no classes that morning, slept in and woke up yawning, planning to check out the day's news.

As usual, he opened his favorite music app, "Dongni Music," and clicked on today's automatically recommended playlist.

These recommendations were based on his previous listening preferences, filtered and selected for him. If he liked a song, he'd add it to his collection; if he really liked it, he'd pay to download it.

He put on his headphones, listening to music while browsing through the day's random entertainment news.

Nothing particularly interesting happened, and the music in his ears didn't leave much of an impression either. Not unpleasant, but not something he liked—maybe one or two songs felt okay while listening, but once they were over, they were forgotten. If you asked him what songs he'd listened to after finishing the day's recommendations, he couldn't recall a thing.

It had always been like this. For people like him, not in the music industry, most of the time they just listened to what they liked, songs they'd collected and downloaded, occasionally checking out the daily recommended new or old tracks.

But just as he was yawning and absentmindedly scrolling through the news, a strange burst of laughter suddenly came through his headphones, turning his half-finished yawn into a sneeze. His body jolted, and whatever drowsiness remained was scared away—he sat there, stunned.

Maintaining that pose for about twenty seconds, the student finally moved, reaching out to swipe the screen, switching from the entertainment news page to the music app, and checked what the song he was listening to was called.