Chapter 77: Li Qingshan’s Refusal

“When we get there, you don’t need to say a word,” Jiang Yan instructed Su Chen along the way. “Just listen to me. Li Qingshan has a bit of an eccentric temper—if he says anything unpleasant, don’t take it to heart!”

Not long after the press conference, Jiang Yan had been eager to visit Li Qingshan. In truth, things weren’t so urgent, but since Su Chen had mentioned songwriting at the conference, she needed to take precautionary measures.

Why bring Su Chen along? For one, she happened to be with him; for another, he was involved in the matter at hand. Her main purpose was to discuss the song’s authorship. If Li Qingshan insisted on meeting the person named as the writer, she would be prepared. She also understood Su Chen’s personality—he was usually easygoing, but if someone spoke harshly, he would fight back just as fiercely. And Li Qingshan was notoriously unconventional. Jiang Yan worried the two might clash, so she kept repeating her instructions, just to be sure.

Li Qingshan was no small fry, after all. As one of the most accomplished composers of the day, he had created many classics. Compared to the likes of Lao Jie and other gold-label composers, he was in a league of his own. Offending him would make it nearly impossible to get good songs in the future.

“Aren’t you really going to look at the song I wrote for you?” Su Chen asked again.

Jiang Yan was about to refuse, but her tone softened unexpectedly. “Let’s deal with this first. Afterward, I’ll look at it properly.”

Su Chen just shrugged, unconcerned. As you wish. It would be interesting to see what the world’s top composers were really capable of.

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Li Qingshan’s home was in a courtyard house on the outskirts of Beijing. Compared to the city center, it was much more spacious—classic courtyards, elegant pavilions, winding streams, and arched bridges set the scene.

Guided by the assistant, Jiang Yan and Su Chen arrived at the tea room. Li Qingshan was already seated at the head of the table, pouring tea over a clay figurine.

“Jiang Yan, you’re here—come, have a seat,” he greeted, lifting his gaze.

“And this is?”

Jiang Yan hurried to introduce, “This is my friend, Su Chen. We happened to be together, so I brought him along to visit you.”

Li Qingshan nodded without further inquiry. He had little interest in Su Chen; celebrities often brought friends when visiting, and he was used to it by now.

Once everyone was seated, Li Qingshan brewed a pot of tea and poured for them both.

“You know, I already prepared the song for you. I could have just sent it over—no need for a special visit.”

Jiang Yan smiled, flattering him, “That would hardly do justice to your hard work. I had nothing pressing, so I thought I’d come by for a chat. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

Li Qingshan laughed heartily. “Jiang, you’re as good with words as ever!”

After some polite conversation, he gestured to his assistant, who brought out a laptop and placed it on the table.

“The song is here—take a look, see if it suits you.”

Jiang Yan took the mouse and opened a folder with two files. One was a document; she opened it to find a complete song titled “The Cicada Knows Not Snow.” Skimming the lyrics, she was immediately impressed. She tried humming a few lines and couldn’t hide her delight.

“Mr. Li, I really like it!”

Li Qingshan nodded in satisfaction. “Open the other file. I’ve already recorded the accompaniment for you.”

“Ah!” Jiang Yan exclaimed in surprise. “That’s… that’s too much, really.”

Li Qingshan smiled dismissively. “My guys have plenty of spare time—consider it practice for them. Give it a listen.”

He clicked to play the track, and the instrumental began to play. Before even half the song had played, Su Chen had already made his judgment—this was a masterpiece. It was the best song he’d heard in this world, a cut above anything on the current top charts. He’d once thought the music here was only so-so, but clearly, he’d underestimated his peers.

Jiang Yan was equally thrilled, thanking Li Qingshan several times. Seeing her so pleased, Li Qingshan laughed heartily. At his age, nothing was more gratifying than having his songs appreciated.

“As long as you’re happy,” he said.

They chatted amiably for a while. Noticing Li Qingshan’s good mood, Jiang Yan seized the moment to broach her real topic.

“Mr. Li, about this song…” She chose her words carefully.

“What is it?” Li Qingshan’s brows drew together. “Is there something you’re not satisfied with?”

“No, no, not at all!” Jiang Yan hurried to reassure him. “I love the song—I just have one request. I hope you won’t be angry.”

Li Qingshan’s tone cooled slightly. “What is it? Speak your mind. We’re all friends here.”

Jiang Yan watched his expression closely, organizing her thoughts. “Earlier, Ms. Hong discussed having me sing this song. Now, I’m wondering if… if I could also buy the rights to the songwriting credit?”

Li Qingshan looked taken aback. “Oh? You want to put your own name on it?”

In the industry, some singers, after buying a great song, would also purchase the copyright—or at least the credit—so that their name appeared as singer, lyricist, and composer. It made for great publicity. But as far as he knew, Jiang Yan had never done this before. Why the sudden desire to be known as a singer-songwriter?

“No, no!” Jiang Yan stammered. “I want… I want the credit to go to someone else.”

Li Qingshan’s face darkened. “Who do you want to credit?”

Generally, as long as they controlled the copyright, giving the singer the credit wasn’t a big deal. But giving it to someone else—another composer—was a red line for him. What kind of composer would agree to such a thing?

Seeing his expression, Jiang Yan knew things were turning sour. But there was no turning back, so she pressed on.

“I want to credit… Su Chen.” She looked over at Su Chen as she spoke.

Li Qingshan turned to Su Chen, scowling. “Are you a composer as well?”

Su Chen smiled and nodded. “I write songs for a small company.”

At these words, Li Qingshan’s face grew cold. “Hmph! Young people should keep their feet on the ground and take things one step at a time. Don’t always look for shortcuts. Chasing the easy way leads nowhere.”

He changed his attitude in a flash. Jiang Yan quickly tugged at Su Chen’s sleeve, signaling him to stay calm, and then apologized humbly.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Li, he’s not… it’s just…”

Even Jiang Yan struggled to explain her connection with Su Chen.

“What more is there to explain?” Li Qingshan frowned deeply. His impression of Su Chen had plummeted. He’d already decided—he would never let this young man take a shortcut.

Just then, his assistant whispered something in his ear. As he listened, Li Qingshan’s expression grew darker still. When the assistant finished, he stood up abruptly.

“You should go. Jiang, I won’t let you sing this song anymore. I hope you won’t bring people like him to bother me again.”