I Dominate the Entertainment Industry Through Top-Tier Star-Making - Chapter 10

**What? A social phobia? That’s even better!**

Lin Suyan’s expression turned blank. It wasn’t that the suggestion was entirely absurd; it was just something he had never considered before.

*Me?*

Aren’t I the one who writes songs for others? He had only sung his own songs on Ting Music because he couldn’t afford to pay someone else. It’s not like anyone would want to buy songs from an unknown music producer anyway.

But how can I be a singer? Yes, I’ve studied music, but I’ve never learned how to sing properly. I’ve never performed on a big stage before; I’d definitely freeze.

*I can’t do this. I just can’t.*

Lin Suyan quickly shook his head. “Sister Lan, I really don’t think my personality is suited for this—” His words were cut off when Yu Aolan raised her hand.

She saw great potential in this idea.

After studying Lin Suyan closely, she realized that his facial features were pretty good, with no major flaws. In fact, today, she noticed something unique about him.

Especially when he swept his bangs aside, exposing his well-defined brow bones and a pair of gentle, clear, downturned eyes that gave off a pure and innocent vibe.

Unlike charming, captivating peach blossom eyes or the cold intensity of single eyelids, his soft gaze made him seem approachable, instantly closing the gap between him and others.

His shyness wasn’t a problem; in fact, it could even become an appealing quality when paired with his musical talent.

With a base score of seventy, plus Yu Aolan’s experience in packaging stars, she had countless ways to elevate his charm by another fifteen points.

He might not be the most striking beauty, but he could become a progressively attractive young man.

“I think you can debut as a singer-songwriter. You might even win over fans who love your ‘puppy-like’ looks,” Yu Aolan boldly suggested.

“I can’t, right? Sister, no way.” Lin Suyan’s voice trembled with uncertainty.

The idea of aiming for a future like that terrified him.

“I have social anxiety; I wouldn’t even be able to speak in front of a crowd.”

“It’s okay, you can overcome that.”

*Social anxiety? That’s normal.*

Yu Aolan had seen plenty of socially anxious individuals blossom into social butterflies under her guidance.

Young people need to step out of their comfort zones, after all. Sometimes, that’s when they discover their true, liberated selves.

But there was one thing Yu Aolan didn’t plan to mention yet: stepping on stage as a singer didn’t mean he had to stick to that identity forever.

Only those who experienced the heat of battle could truly understand the nuances of music and stage performance. Comfort zones don’t inspire creativity.

Seeing that Lin Suyan’s hesitation wasn’t too strong, Yu Aolan pressed further. “So, who do you think could truly convey your songs’ meaning?”

Silence.

Lin Suyan pressed his lips together. *No one understands them better than I do.*

Every creative spark, every late-night melody, every carefully thought-out lyric—they were all cherished memories stored deep in his heart.

Would someone else truly understand his story? Would anyone else resonate with it the way he did?

Unlikely.

Yu Aolan’s question made the hidden desires in his heart crack open, like Pandora’s box being pried loose.

People are selfish. Maybe he did want to see his creations take their first steps into the world. Whether they received praise or criticism, he wanted to be there to witness it.

Lin Suyan was visibly wavering.

“Let’s not talk about that for now. Let’s sign the contract first.”

“Oh, okay.”

That was the immediate concern.

“Don’t rush to the last page to sign. Read every term carefully, and if you have any objections, raise them now.”

“Got it.”

Strangely, even though Lin Suyan believed her words, he thought it wouldn’t hurt to scrutinize the details.

He read through each word slowly.

“The contract is stricter than I thought.”

“So, do you still plan to sign?” Yu Aolan observed him carefully, studying every flicker of emotion on his face.

As Aohuang’s first artist, she didn’t want to nurture a future rebel.

Yes, the contract was strict—that was Lin Suyan’s conclusion.

Aohuang Entertainment. A C-grade contract with hefty penalties and numerous restrictions.

Once he signed, there was no going back.

Even if he wanted to play any tricks, he’d have to weigh them against the powerful Yu Group behind Aohuang.

Could he afford to offend them?

“The contract states a term of… two years?” Lin Suyan looked up to confirm.

Two years seemed short. From what he knew, most new artists signed contracts lasting five, ten, or even twenty years.

“Two years is a trial period. If you do well, you’ll move up to a B-grade contract. Of course, both sides have the option to continue or not, so no one wastes time.”

Lin Suyan nodded in understanding. It’s all about putting on a good show.

“Just sign here, right?” He uncapped the pen.

“Don’t you think that’s undervaluing yourself?” Yu Aolan asked, catching him before he could finalize his decision.

“A C-grade contract isn’t great. Your copyrights will belong to Aohuang, with an 80-20 split. Plus, there’s a separate management agreement with me. If you annoy me or the company, not only will you get nothing, but you could be shelved.

Are you sure?”

Most people would hesitate after hearing such conditions, even with the Yu Group backing them.

“I’m a newcomer.”

What’s there to nitpick? It wasn’t like this was a dead end. The path to advancement was clear.

No entry-level worker walks into a company with a CEO contract—it’s not like writing a novel.

Lin Suyan carefully signed his name at the bottom of the contract.

It wasn’t some stylish signature, just standard cursive, somewhat stiff, almost like a child’s handwriting.

It was hard to say if it was because he was taking it seriously or if that was just how he wrote.

Dai Lin, watching from the side, gave a slight nod, inwardly applauding his decision.

The contract had been drafted by her good friend, Xiao Xiong, and being by Yu Aolan’s side, she knew the hidden opportunities behind the seemingly harsh terms.

She just hoped Lin Suyan wouldn’t regret it.

“Very good,” Yu Aolan said, accepting the contract. She extended her hand, flashing a rare, genuine smile of relief.

“Let’s have a fruitful partnership, Aohuang’s first artist.”

“Yes! I’ll be counting on you, Sister Lan!” Lin Suyan stood up, politely grasping the tips of her fingers during the handshake, not overstepping.

“No need to wait. Let’s get started now. Sit back down.” Yu Aolan swiftly shifted into her role as his manager.

Lin Suyan blinked in confusion but obediently sat. He thought today’s meeting would end here, but things were moving faster than he expected.

“Next, I’ll outline the plan. Since you’re not well-known and need a mindset shift, we’ll start by releasing your songs online. I’ll handle promotion. Once the momentum builds, we’ll join some audition competitions.”

This was the quickest way to debut.