"I'm going to take a shower first. You've got a lot going on with school starting tomorrow, so don't stay up too late. Goodnight~"

A message popped up on the screen.

"Got it. You should rest early too, my little fairy," Yu Chen replied, his eyes softening with warmth.

The girl with the username "Mist Hidden in Azure Breeze" had been the original owner's online girlfriend for three years.

To be precise, she was a leftover connection from the previous occupant of this body.

Yes, Yu Chen had been reborn.

It had been exactly thirty days since he arrived in this strange yet familiar world.

In his past life, he had grown up alone, relying on a voice blessed by the heavens to climb his way up in the entertainment industry.

By the age of twenty-four, he was already standing under the spotlight, the center of everyone's attention.

Yet, behind the glamour lay endless torment.

The adoration of fans and the vitriol of haters were like two sides of the same coin.

As a public figure, even breathing had to be done with caution.

The most outrageous incident was when he woke up in the middle of the night at a hotel to find a stranger—a girl—lying in his bed.

That obsessive fan had somehow gotten hold of a key card and snuck into his room.

The long-suppressed emotions had snowballed over time, eventually crushing him beneath their weight.

On a pitch-black night, he chose to end it all by jumping into the river.

The water was cold—bone-chillingly cold.

But the memories were even icier.

*"Compared to my past life, I'd much rather live like this now."*

Gazing at the simple room before him and savoring the quiet rhythm of an ordinary life, Yu Chen sighed with heartfelt relief.

For the first time, he truly understood the beauty of a mundane existence.

Though this family was far from wealthy, Yu Chen felt a warmth he had never known before. His parents were loving and harmonious, and his online girlfriend was gentle and understanding. Even though he had never seen her face, their month-long conversations had made him feel a rare soul-deep connection.

Life now was plain, yes—but it brought him a peace and contentment he had never experienced before.

Just as he was lost in thought, the door creaked open softly.

His mother, Zhong Yalan, stepped in, holding a steaming bowl of herbal medicine.

"Drink this and get some rest," she said gently. "You have to wake up early tomorrow for school." She paused, then added, "I’ve already packed your things, and I took half a day off to take you there."

"Mom, don’t bother taking leave," Yu Chen replied, accepting the bowl. "Zhong Lin already promised to help me move my stuff. We’ll go together."

He tilted his head back and downed the bowl of slightly bitter herbal medicine in one gulp.

This was a remedy Zhong Yalan had specially sought from an old rural herbalist. After a month of drinking it, he had grown accustomed to the bitterness.

"It's just as well. The noodle shop will be busy tomorrow," Zhong Yalan said as she took the empty bowl from him. She pulled a few pieces of candy from her pocket and placed them on his bedside table. "With Zhong Lin keeping you company, I won’t worry. Here, your favorite sweets—have some later to take the edge off the bitterness."

She gently tucked the blanket around her son before quietly leaving the room.

Zhong Lin, Yu Chen’s childhood friend, had always looked after the frail boy, which gave Zhong Yalan some peace of mind.

Watching his mother’s busy figure retreat, Yu Chen felt a surge of warmth in his chest.

A month of recuperation had slightly improved his health, but more importantly, he had fully assimilated the original host’s memories.

He reached into his pocket and touched the candy—his mother’s unwavering habit.

Every time he finished his medicine, she would give him a piece, as if trying to sweeten away the bitterness of the remedy.

The original host had fair skin, delicate and handsome features, and an air of quiet elegance, though his slender frame betrayed his weak constitution.

His father, Yu Zhi’an, was a sanitation worker, earning barely a thousand yuan a month with his meager salary and subsidies.

His mother, Zhong Yalan, washed dishes at a small noodle shop, bringing home a pitifully small income.

Over the years, the family’s savings had been drained dry by his medical expenses.

Left with no choice, his mother had turned to an old rural herbalist—at least the remedies were cheaper.

A month ago, the original host had collapsed on his way home, and in that moment, Yu Chen had inexplicably found himself in this body.

As for whether the original owner of this body had passed away or somehow ended up in his previous world, that mystery would likely remain unsolved forever.

Yu Chen lay in bed, the memories of the original owner flooding his mind.

That young man had always blamed himself, believing his illness had become a burden to his parents, holding them back in life. Desperate not to disappoint them, he had pushed himself relentlessly in his studies, hoping to graduate quickly, find work, and improve his family’s financial situation.

That unwavering determination had now imprinted itself deeply in Yu Chen’s heart.

"Your dreams… I’ll carry them forward for you."

Perhaps it was the weight of these thoughts that kept him tossing and turning, unable to sleep. After a moment’s hesitation, he opened a music app.

The painful memories from his past life had made him avoid music altogether for the past month. But through the original owner’s recollections, he had gradually come to understand this parallel world called Blue Star.

It was strikingly similar to Earth, yet its cultural and artistic development far surpassed that of his previous world. Fields like film, music, and painting flourished with astonishing vibrancy.

In such an environment, admissions to art schools were relatively lenient. Even without formal training, outstanding academic performance could secure a spot.

Though frail and often ill, the original owner had been exceptionally diligent in his studies, eventually emerging as the top liberal arts graduate in Jinyun City.

While everyone expected him to choose a prestigious university, Yu Chen had surprised them all by applying to the Composition Department of Jinyun Art Academy—an unconventional and overlooked major.

Through fragmented memories of the original host, Yu Chen gradually came to understand the bizarre state of China's entertainment industry.

In this era where popularity reigns supreme, the original intent of artistic creation has long been obscured by money and data. To chase attention, many willingly abandon their dignity and dreams, becoming slaves to online trends. This twisted value system has trapped the entire entertainment industry in a vicious cycle.

On the surface, it appears prosperous, but in reality, quality is wildly inconsistent. The standards of TV dramas and films are shockingly low—production companies couldn’t care less about the audience, focusing only on profit. So-called "trending celebrities" can endorse terrible movies simply because of their massive fanbases.

Acting skills? Nonexistent.

Line delivery? Just dub it over with a voice actor.

All they need to do is look pretty, and they rake in fortunes.

The music scene is even more absurd, flooded with vulgar tracks like *Learning to Bark Like a Dog*, making one wonder if this is entertainment or an insult to the audience’s intelligence.

Yu Chen, wearing headphones, grew increasingly grim-faced, his expression a mix of exasperation and disgust. He was scrolling through the trending music charts, only to find a song imitating dog barks sitting at number one. As he kept scrolling, the rest weren’t much better.

"What the hell is this..."

Yu Chen couldn't help but grumble inwardly as he listened to one brain-numbingly repetitive tune after another, feeling his head throb.

Some of these songs barely had any musical elements at all—they were just gimmicks designed to grab attention.

Unconsciously, his thoughts drifted back to his past life.

The truly moving melodies of classics echoed in his mind—Pu Shu's "Those Flowers," Xu Wei's "The You I Once Knew," Jay Chou's "Sunny Day"...

Any one of them, if brought into this world, would probably dominate the charts, right?

The idea sparked in his heart like a flame, making him itch to pick up his musical dreams again.

But he quickly suppressed the impulse.

Yu Chen hesitated.

He cherished his current peaceful life and had no desire to return to the glaring spotlight.

Yet, seeing how shallow and chaotic the music industry had become, he—as a musician—found it hard to simply stand by and do nothing.

After some serious thought, he realized that singing was indeed the best way for him to make money.

But he also wanted a way to earn a living while maintaining a low-key lifestyle.

The idea of writing novels flickered through his mind, but he dismissed it just as quickly.

Though he had read plenty of web novels, he didn’t have a photographic memory.

The classic tropes like "Heaven and Earth are ruthless, treating all beings as straw dogs," "A Dou Zong expert is terrifyingly powerful," "My son Wang Teng has the potential to become an Emperor," and "Ah Bin's high school grades were far from ideal"—these were now just vague impressions in Yu Chen's mind, and he couldn't piece together a complete story from them.

Lying on his bed, Yu Chen felt a pang of frustration. He needed to find a plan that would allow him to leverage his strengths without drawing too much attention.

Just as he was lost in thought, a cold, mechanical female voice suddenly echoed in his mind:

**[Ding. Entertainment System binding in progress…]**

The abrupt notification caught Yu Chen off guard, but having read countless web novels, he wasn’t particularly startled.

After all, in fiction, systems like this were nothing new to him.

So he remained lying down, calmly waiting for the system to complete its binding.