Chapter Forty-Seven: Chen Wan Wants to Be an Intern

That night, Li Mu listened to Zhang Kexuan’s rambling dreams for half the evening in the lavishly decorated living room of Zhang’s three-bedroom apartment. Zhang Kexuan regarded Li Mu as a beacon in his life, while Li Mu saw Zhang and Simple Plan as his own experimental field.

The ideal outcome would be to use hit songs from the future and the soon-to-be-launched “eting” to catapult Simple Plan to stardom, then leverage Simple Plan’s popularity to drive eting’s success, turning eting into a music portal capable of producing stars online. The potential for future growth would be enormous; thus, he would have two options: join the wave of piracy and await a lucrative buyout by a major platform, or accumulate enough strength to transform and build his own platform.

Each man nursed his own dreams, and it was only in the deep hours of the night that they retired to their rooms.

The following morning, just past nine, Ye Tianming and his two companions arrived. Still groggy from lack of sleep, both men sported panda eyes as they got up. Ye Tianming took out a bank card and handed it to Li Mu.

“Mu, there’s a hundred thousand in here, the password is 123321. Kexuan, I’ve covered your share for you.”

Li Mu nodded, taking the card. “Do any of you have time to drive me somewhere to take care of a few things?”

“I do,” Ye Tianming raised his hand. “I drove here.”

“Alright.” Li Mu smiled. “I’ll need you for most of the day, hope that’s not a problem?”

“No problem,” Ye Tianming replied readily. “If you’re in a hurry, we can leave now.”

“Great.” Li Mu didn’t stand on ceremony. He turned to the others: “Once I’m done, I’ll head back to Haizhou. These next few days, focus on rehearsing ‘Sunflower.’ Remember—no matter who approaches you now, absolutely do not agree to record a single.”

“Why?” Zhang Kexuan asked, intrigued.

He’d been pondering the prospect of recording a single. “Li Bai” had already been performed publicly, but technically, only a live version existed—there was no proper studio recording, and naturally the effect was lacking. A studio version would add other instruments, allow multiple takes, eliminate mistakes, and polish the final result.

Li Mu explained, “If a record company offers to record a single, they’ll insist you sign a contract first. If a regular website, studio, or recording booth offers, they’ll put your song online for promotion in advance. Both scenarios are best avoided for now. When I get the music site up and running, I’ll personally be your producer. Then we’ll collaborate to record the most perfect version.”

“Understood!” On this matter, the group obeyed Li Mu without question.

Later, Li Mu rode with Ye Tianming in his Crown sedan to a company in Jinling specializing in servers. He bought two top-of-the-line servers, then arranged for their hosting at another company, choosing the bandwidth and completing the setup.

For the forum, one server was sufficient; but for eting, future demands would be substantial—number of servers, processing power, storage space, bandwidth—all were crucial. For now, eting hadn’t even been developed, so one server would suffice for the initial launch; more could be added as needed.

While Li Mu was taking care of the servers, Chen Wan called, asking when he would return to Haizhou. They agreed on a time and place to meet, and after finishing his errands, Li Mu left with Ye Tianming to meet her.

In the car, Li Mu asked, “Tianming, I heard your family’s in real estate. Do you have any office buildings available for rent?”

“We do,” Ye Tianming answered immediately. “My dad operates a commercial building: ground floor shops, floors two through sixteen are offices. The occupancy rate is less than eighty percent, so plenty of vacant units. What size do you need?”

“Sixty or seventy square meters is enough,” Li Mu replied with a smile. “Keep an eye out for me. If there’s something suitable, I’ll rent one.”

“You can just use it,” Ye Tianming said cheerfully. “No need to fuss over money.”

“No,” Li Mu said. “It’s not your personal property. Better keep things clear, so your dad doesn’t think your friends take advantage. Just help me find a spot, and I’ll sign the lease with whoever’s in charge.”

Ye Tianming glanced at Li Mu, seeing he wasn’t joking, and became serious. “I’ll make a call to check about office space. But if you’re renting for the music website, rent should be paid—but the logic is, the four of us pay the rent to my dad’s company. Don’t forget, we agreed: you provide songs and help us build our reputation, and for the music website, the four of us contribute money, effort, and manpower.”

Li Mu nodded, smiling. “In that case, I won’t say more. Thanks for your help.”

“Don’t mention it!” For Ye Tianming and Zhang Kexuan’s group, after yesterday’s stunning performance, they already regarded Li Mu with reverence. Music was their faith; if Li Mu could help them realize this dream, money was the least of their concerns.

Although Simple Plan’s four members would fund eting’s future needs, Li Mu was hardly relaxed. He had to develop eting and a forum. The forum was easy enough—a ready-made template and code, tweak and modify as needed—but eting had to be built from scratch.

Most websites now had no aesthetic appeal; their pages were blocky, lacking layout, beauty, or user experience in mind. Li Mu wanted eting to be the best music streaming and download site, which required forward-thinking concepts.

With such a vast workload, Li Mu couldn’t handle it alone. He needed at least two or three coders, a designer, and an engineer for server and testing, all recruited based on his framework.

Such talent was rare in Haizhou, more likely found in Jinling. So Li Mu asked the four members of Simple Plan to check the talent market over the next few days and find candidates matching his requirements.

...

Upon seeing Chen Wan, Li Mu bid farewell to Ye Tianming and got into the driver’s seat of Chen Wan’s Audi, while she sat beside him.

Driving out of the city, Chen Wan said, “I might have to go to Shanghai in a few days.”

“Oh?” Li Mu asked curiously. “School doesn’t start for a while yet—what are you going to Shanghai for?”

Chen Wan, a little downcast, replied, “My dad’s friend got me an opportunity: a month-long summer internship at Shanghai Satellite TV.”

“That’s great.”

Shanghai Satellite TV—what would become Oriental Satellite TV—was among the top regional stations. Li Mu smiled, “It’s one of the best in the country. If you can work there in the future, your prospects are limitless.”

Chen Wan pouted, “Impossible. It’s too hard to get in, and promotion is tough. My dad wants me to gain some experience at Shanghai Satellite TV, and when I intern in my final year, he’ll send me to Southern Jiangsu Satellite TV. He has a close friend there, apparently quite high-ranking, who can help me with the internship—and get me a staff position after graduation.”

Li Mu thought back; Chen Wan had entered Southern Jiangsu Satellite TV in her previous life, ultimately perishing in an accident. He never knew who her future husband was, but felt if her life’s path didn’t change, she might meet that unknown man again.

“Southern Jiangsu Satellite TV doesn’t seem to offer much for growth,” Li Mu said, not sounding optimistic.

“Really? Aren’t all regional stations pretty much the same now? Only Hunan Satellite TV is better.”

Li Mu replied, “Then try to get into Hunan Satellite TV.”

After all, it would become the dominant Mango TV in the future, with plenty of opportunities. If Chen Wan could develop there, it should be promising.

Chen Wan, lacking confidence, said, “I don’t know anyone there, no connections. Is it that easy to get into a satellite TV station?”

Li Mu was calm. “You still have a year, so why rush?”

“True,” Chen Wan shrugged. “But since I’ll be in Shanghai for a while, you won’t see me.”

Before Li Mu could reply, Chen Wan added, looking forlorn, “And by the end of August, you’ll be starting university too.”

At that time, one in Beijing, one in Shanghai—Chen Wan felt even more despondent.

Li Mu smiled to comfort her. “If we want to meet, we can always meet. Plane tickets aren’t that expensive, are they?”

Chen Wan was already a second-generation rich, and Li Mu now had tens of thousands to his name—a small tycoon. Air tickets, expensive to ordinary people, were nothing to them.

“That’s settled then!” Chen Wan said immediately. “Once you get familiar with Beijing, when I visit, you’ll be my guide and stay with me the whole time.”

Li Mu nodded with a smile. “I guarantee you’ll feel right at home.”