Chapter 3

The midday sun had already shone upon this street, dispelling the cold and darkness of the Black Street.

Shop owner Yue Qing moved a reclining chair to the doorway and lay down to bask in the sun and sleep. Usually, there was little business in his shop during the day. The Black Street was most active at night, so he rarely slept at night and used the daytime to catch up on sleep. This was the routine for most of the major shop owners on the Black Street.

Fang Zhao finished the two compressed cakes in large bites and glanced at the dog lying at his feet. The dog had already finished its compressed cake and was now licking the crumbs on the ground. These animals, with their rich experience of流浪, seemed to know very well what they could and could not eat. Those without survival skills would not have been able to survive on the Black Street until now.

Feeling full, Fang Zhao felt that every moment was a pleasure. Sitting on the street of the Black Street, he looked up at the sky. The sky above seemed like a bright blue ribbon, with dazzling sunlight hanging in the air, looking down at the earth without restraint. There was no trace of the murky and bloody atmosphere of the post-apocalyptic era.

"Really good."

The apocalypse did not truly bring an end.

What they once called the end of the world became the "Destruction Period" in the new era. After a long period of large-scale slaughter and mass extinction, the world welcomed a new beginning, as if reborn from the ashes. Humans still dominated the planet.

The world finally welcomed prosperity once again.

It had been too long since such peace, and the inspiration for creation began to stir uncontrollably.

Fang Zhao's fingers, resting casually on his legs, tapped lightly. Few people would pay special attention to this, and even if they did, they wouldn't understand what it meant.

Yue Qing stared for a long time but couldn't figure it out. As a retired veteran, he had carried out many missions and learned many types of codes, but Fang Zhao's finger movements did not match any of the codes he knew.

After staring in confusion for a while, Yue Qing gave up and continued to lie in the sun at the shop entrance.

Some people would unconsciously tap their fingers when thinking, but only those who knew Fang Zhao well understood that this behavior was actually part of his creative process. When inspiration struck, Fang Zhao would start creating. However, in the post-apocalyptic era, there was no time or space for him to create peacefully, and pens and paper were out of the question. So, Fang Zhao had developed his own method of composing, combined with his exceptional memory, which gave him a unique way of creating. In a sense, it was a kind of code, a musical code that only Fang Zhao understood.

The sun stayed on the Black Street for a very short time, less than an hour, and then gradually retreated.

Without the sun, the temperature on the Black Street dropped a few degrees. However, it was already the end of May, and the weather in Yanzhou was still mild, so some of the elderly did not immediately return home after basking in the sun. They stayed to chat with old acquaintances. This was their most lively time of the day.

Fang Zhao didn't plan to stay any longer and returned the plate, cup, and chair to the shop.

At this moment, the voices on the Black Street suddenly grew louder, and the sound of a flying object approaching could be heard in the air.

Yue Qing looked up and smiled with a deep meaning, pointing at the sky and saying to Fang Zhao, "Your friend has made it big."

Fang Zhao also saw it.

Descending from the sky was a flying car.

For the people living in the lower levels of the Black Street, a flying car was a relatively luxurious item. Not everyone could use a flying car, and the energy it used was even more expensive.

Every time a flying car came, it was either related to a big boss on the Black Street or someone was about to make it big.

The elderly on the Black Street were very interested in this, so when they heard the commotion, they stopped their conversations and all looked at the landing flying car, wondering who was about to make it big and whether they knew the person. If they did, they could brag about it for ten days.

The landing spot was quickly cleared by people who had been sitting there, making room for the car.

The flying car had a flashy and flamboyant seven-color wind icon, which was very famous in Qian'an City and even throughout Yanzhou.

"Is that a Neon Light Culture car?!"

"Someone got signed by Neon Light Culture?"

"Rich, rich, Neon Light Culture is so rich!"

"I remember someone from our street was signed by one of the three big companies before and became a star. What was his name... I can't remember, but he's really rich now!"

The three major entertainment companies in Qian'an City were Silver Wing Media, Neon Light Culture, and Tongshan Shihua. Although the car that arrived was clearly a company car and not a private one, it was the famous Neon Light Culture, one of the three major entertainment companies. Getting signed by Neon Light Culture meant no more worries about money in the future.

The entertainment industry was a golden nest. This was the general impression.

Getting signed by Neon Light Culture = turning a corner = rolling in money. This was the thought of most people on the Black Street.

The original body of this person had been signed as an intern by Silver Wing Media six months before graduation. This childhood friend, who had grown up together, had not been signed due to the inferiority of his school and his lack of outstanding achievements. However, things were different now. People change.

Fang Zhao looked at the person who got out of the flying car, and the memories in his mind told him everything about this person. Fang Sheng, the original owner's childhood friend, an inseparable companion, and someone the original owner had planned to help after the rookie competition, even if he couldn't become an artist, he would start as an assistant, so he wouldn't be jobless. But in the end, this person stabbed him in the back.

Now, Fang Sheng had changed his cheap clothes, and the flying car that picked him up, though not high-end, was still a flying car, and it belonged to Neon Light Culture, which was enough to attract attention on the Black Street.

Fang Sheng had appropriated the original owner's hard work and used it to gain benefits, successfully signing with Neon Light Culture. It seemed that Neon Light Culture was quite satisfied with the works Fang Sheng submitted, otherwise, they wouldn't have sent a car. He lacked talent but had means, a type of person Fang Zhao had seen many times.

When Fang Sheng got out of the flying car, he enjoyed the envious looks from the crowd. The feeling of being the center of attention made him feel like he had instantly become a star, making his body feel light as he got out of the car. But when he saw Fang Zhao standing at the shop entrance, his elated mood instantly sank.

Fang Sheng was surprised to see Fang Zhao here. Based on his understanding of Fang Zhao and the information he had bought from a small thug on the Black Street yesterday, Fang Zhao should have committed suicide at home today, or at least hidden in his room, thinking about how to solve the rookie competition problem, or given up and lashed out at the world. He never expected that this person would have the mind to come out and bask in the sun!

Did this idiot go crazy from composing?

More surprisingly, Fang Zhao's mental state was not depressed, not self-pitying, not crazy under the pressure of a desperate situation. On the contrary, he looked as if nothing had happened, as if his work had not been stolen and he was not in trouble. This made Fang Sheng uneasy.

What had happened to Fang Zhao?!

Fang Sheng's gaze did not linger for long. He dared not meet Fang Zhao's eyes. Fang Zhao's calm and eerie gaze made him feel like staring into the depths of the ocean, where a monster could emerge at any moment, making him shudder.

But Fang Sheng did not think he had done anything wrong. Who wasn't for themselves? Why not seize the opportunity? The friendship from growing up together was not insignificant, but compared to the huge benefits, it was nothing, at least in his opinion.

"What are you looking at? Hurry up and pack your things and go back to the company. Don't waste time here." The driver, who had gotten out of the car, glanced disdainfully at the people on the Black Street and urged Fang Sheng.

"Okay... okay!" Fang Sheng hurriedly moved towards the elevator, his back looking somewhat embarrassed, as if he were fleeing.

After stealing Fang Zhao's three songs, Fang Sheng submitted them to Neon Light Culture and was noticed by the recruitment team, signing a contract. Neon Light Culture was indeed very satisfied with the scores Fang Sheng submitted, paid him an advance, and arranged accommodation for him. Today, Fang Sheng was here to move out. He lived on the fifth floor, which was slightly better than Fang Zhao's second floor, but still part of the lower levels of the Black Street, with poor conditions. Knowing he could move out, Fang Sheng eagerly borrowed the company's car and people to move.

With his mind preoccupied, Fang Sheng seemed absent-minded. However, when he came out of the building after packing his things, he glanced at the shop again. Not seeing Fang Zhao, he felt relieved, but then thought he was being too timid and didn't need to be afraid of Fang Zhao.

He had been worried that Fang Zhao would expose his theft, but after thinking about it while packing, he decided there was no need to worry. The three songs were uploaded by him first and registered under his name, so the copyright was already his.

Even if Fang Zhao wanted to sue, he wasn't afraid. While Fang Zhao was buried in composing, he had already arranged everything. Fang Zhao had no evidence, so how could he sue?

Moreover, Fang Zhao had no money to sue him. He couldn't even afford food and rent, let alone sue. Borrow from Zeng Huang and Wan Yue?

Pfft—

Fang Sheng sneered inwardly. They were also poor, not worth worrying about. No matter what, as long as he insisted that the three songs were his original work, it would be enough.

Before getting in the car, Fang Sheng glanced at the Black Street again, his gaze sweeping over the second-floor window where Fang Zhao lived. The window was tightly closed, and there was no light inside, making it impossible to tell if anyone was there.

Taking a deep breath, Fang Sheng got into the car. From today, he would finally leave this shabby place. Get rich and become successful! Reach the peak of life!

No more Fang Zhao, no more Black Street! After all, he had already secured a spot in the rookie competition! His future was in the shining list of new stars!