Chapter 17: The Darkest Star of the Northern Sea

Three days later, Le Xiaotian spent two days finalizing the last version of “Cloud Palace Rapid Sound.” With the help of Sun Yuzhen and six beautiful women cooking for him, he used the remaining day to record ten new pieces of music.

Beihai Blue Mountain International was one of the most prestigious villa complexes in Beihai City. The palace-like building stood within an expansive garden of over eight hundred square meters, where lush green lawns basked in radiant sunlight.

At the center, surrounded by more than twenty men in suits, was a man about two meters tall—Zhang Hao, a renowned figure in Beihai, not yet thirty years old. Removing his sunglasses revealed a pair of cold, snake-like eyes. He looked down and smiled icily at the man clutching his left leg, begging and sobbing. “Heh, I’m offering a hundred thousand for the full rights to your novel ‘How Stars Are Made,’ and you refuse?”

“How Stars Are Made,” a novel on the Swordsite, had become a sensation in the past two years, with over seventy million hits—a classic among light readers. It captured the essence of the celebrity era: fulfilling the star dreams of ordinary people, which explained its popularity. As its author, online subscriptions alone had earned him over a million, not to mention tips and app revenue. He had hoped to profit handsomely from selling the rights, maybe even join the ranks of the wealthy. Then came news of Zhang Hao’s offer—one hundred thousand.

Zhang Hao’s Hundred Thousand was a legend in Beihai: whatever caught his eye, be it music, film, animation, novels, or any work of art—even artists themselves—he always made a single, flat offer: one hundred thousand, no more, no less.

Now, the author of “How Stars Are Made” cried out, “I want it, I want it! Promotion, advertising, audio rights, music production, film production, animation—these are all major expenses. I didn’t know before, but now I do. Brother Hao, a hundred thousand is too much—I should pay you instead. Is fifty thousand enough?”

Looking at the terrified author, Zhang Hao smiled, “Am I that scary? Heh, you may leave.”

The author froze. Zhang Hao’s smile seemed warm. Glancing at the enforcers around him, who made no move, he finally stood up. One step, two, three—still no reaction. At last, he turned and sprinted away with all his might.

Watching the author’s retreating figure, Zhang Hao beckoned to his men. He loosened up, even performed a few finger push-ups—handstands facing the sky. After flexing every muscle, he exhaled slowly and unhurriedly. Taking a sip of premium mineral water handed to him, he examined a bucket of javelins brought by his men.

A dozen nearly identical javelins, their tips gleaming with a cold light, even under the sun. Testing two in his hands, Zhang Hao finally chose one that looked quite ordinary—two meters long. Shielding his eyes from the sunlight with his left hand, he gazed into the distance, “Life is full of miracles. This kid’s constitution is weak, but now he’s running like the wind.”

The author of “How Stars Are Made” had already fled hundreds of meters away. The enforcers nodded and laughed, “Brother Hao is right, deeply philosophical—truly a maxim for the ages.”

As the author escaped from the garden, even into another's yard, Zhang Hao moved. He paced forward, slowly picking up speed, calculating wind direction and other factors. His eyes sharpened, his movements fluid as water, his throwing posture textbook-perfect.

A sharp sound split the air as the javelin flew—a sonic boom echoing through the atmosphere. Like a meteor, it streaked across the sky, hundreds of meters vanishing in a flash. The javelin pierced the figure at the edge of sight, whose body shivered and then fell still.

Applause erupted.

“Brother Hao, you’re unstoppable! Next year’s All-Star Extreme Challenge ‘Thousand-Meter Javelin’ champion will surely be you!”

“World records are nothing! Brother Hao is invincible!”

“Brother Hao is invincible!”

Taking the clothing handed to him, Zhang Hao smiled, “This distance is just past a thousand meters. To win the championship, I’ll need to go further. But the ‘Thousand-Meter Javelin’ title is mine.” As he put on his jacket, he strode toward the villa’s living room, lighting a cigar. “Where’s the song Le Xiaotian wrote for me?”

Hearing his question, all the enforcers shuddered. Then, one man stepped forward to report, “He said he doesn’t want to, but don’t worry, Brother Hao. Tonight is the final deadline.”

Frowning slightly, Zhang Hao exhaled a puff of smoke. “How’s his background check?”

An enforcer replied, “He worked a year as an internet café manager in Beihai. The owner was a woman named Su Yun. A few days ago, two young girls were hired—apparently because Le Xiaotian went to Lotus TV as a singing host. Not long after, Su Yun returned to Hangzhou. She’s the heiress of the Su family, one of Hangzhou’s four great families. She and Le Xiaotian have no connection, though rumor has it he secretly loves her.”

Zhang Hao paused and slapped the enforcer. “Are you stupid, or do you think I am? No connection? If there’s no connection, why would Su Yun let him work as a café manager for a year, seeing him every day?”

Another enforcer stepped up to defend his colleague, “Brother Hao, his parents are said to be ordinary people, their address unknown. Even if Le Xiaotian is interested in Su Yun, and she is interested in him, he’s just a commoner—they’re from entirely different worlds. Rest assured, Brother Hao, tonight he’ll hand over the song obediently.”

Smack! Another slap.

Zhang Hao’s expression darkened. “Ordinary people? An ordinary person can produce over a dozen hit songs in less than a month? Do you think making music is as easy as basic arithmetic? If he’s ordinary, you could become the number one star in Fama!”

Shivering, the bloodied enforcer stammered, “Brother Hao, you’ve seen through it. I’ll re-investigate his background.”

Just then, his trusted lieutenant spoke up. “Brother Hao, we don’t know what his background is. But they say he’s up against Lan Cang from the capital. If we act now, Lotus TV might be displeased. After all, Le Xiaotian is their star host.”

You had to know whom to slap; hearing his trusted aide’s advice, Zhang Hao’s tone softened. “When you go to him tonight, tell the brothers to be cautious. If Le Xiaotian is hiding his identity to deal with Lan Cang, his vision and cunning are frightening.”

A tremor ran through the group; their eyes changed. If Brother Hao praised someone, they could not take him lightly.

Observing his men’s expressions, Zhang Hao reminded them, “But no one dares refuse my sincere offer. Never mind whether Lotus TV is displeased. Just remember—if you fail to get the song from Le Xiaotian, I’ll be more displeased than Lotus TV.”