152 Quietly Setting Sail

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"Twenty-one, surnamed Qiao, her name is Qiao Yan'er!"

"Alright, alright, you don't need to give me such detailed introductions. Let's make it the third of October. Send her to Tokyo, to that private villa where you recuperated last time. One day will be more than enough then."

"My brother, I truly thank you!"

"Don't thank me. The crucial point is, have you thought through how to handle the aftermath?" Yang Tang looked coldly at Wan Hailiu and said, "A girl who suffered severe burns, who underwent multiple plastic surgeries with no improvement, suddenly becomes as good as new overnight—"

"It's fine, I've already thought it through. Yan'er likes fine arts and painting, so I'll send her to the United States for two or three years of advanced studies. Once the matter blows over, she can go wherever she wants." At this point, Wan Hailiu suddenly began to gnash his teeth in hatred. "Of course, as for that fellow who dared to splash gasoline and burn Yan'er, I plan to do nothing else for the next half year except take care of his entire family!"

Yang Tang raised an eyebrow upon hearing this. "What? Your goddaughter's face being burned wasn't an accident?"

"Of course not. It's just that at the time, Yan'er hadn't yet acknowledged me as her godfather, nor did she have anyone backing her up. Otherwise, I would have made sure to wipe out that family—"

"Alright, alright. Anyway, since I've agreed to step in, whatever your goddaughter looked like originally, that is what she will look like in the future!"

"Brother, I really have to thank you!" Wan Hailiu expressed his gratitude once more. "As soon as Yan'er is restored to her original appearance, it will be the old price: three hundred million in old currency, which I will present to you immediately."

Yang Tang waved his hand. "We won't need that much this time. I can see you truly care for your goddaughter Qiao Yan'er even more than your own flesh and blood, so I'll slash the price a bit. Just fifty million US dollars in old currency will do, considered as my welcoming gift to my god-niece!"

"You're the one saying that, brother!"

"Nonsense, of course I'm saying it. But I repeat my condition: you cannot trace any subsequent ripples back to me." Yang Tang said, "Additionally, as for those fifty million US dollars, I want them all in fifty-denomination bills, and you must divide them into one hundred equal portions, packed into one hundred small suitcases."

"That's simple. I'll have people get it sorted out right away, as soon as you return from Tokyo—"

"Don't bring the hundred cases of money to Tokyo. Rent a civilian residence and store them there. Once your goddaughter's appearance is restored, I'll go pick them up!"

"Won't that be terribly inconvenient for you to carry, brother?"

"That's for me to worry about."

Seeing that Yang Tang did not wish to dwell on the matter further, Wan Hailiu hurriedly changed the subject. "By the way, brother, the cars you wanted are all down in the garage! Three in total: a Bugatti Veyron Centenaire Edition, a Maybach Zeppelin 62S, and a pitch-black Lamborghini Murciélago!"

Yang Tang was left speechless upon hearing this. Those three cars were fine for photo shoots, but if one actually wanted to drive them on the road, only the Maybach could barely manage a trip down a rural highway; the other two had chassis that were far too low and completely impractical.

"What's wrong, brother?"

"Help me get another car. A Porsche 911, silver, hardtop, four-seater." Yang Tang recalled the specifications as he spoke. "If there's no silver one—"

"Rest assured, I'll just have the factory spray it silver when they paint it. Besides, I'm still a VIP client of theirs!" Actually, what Wan Hailiu wanted to say was that he had a 911 at home that had only been test-driven twice, but a second thought crossed his mind—Yang Tang disliked second-hand items—so he dropped the thought.

At noon, after warmly treating Yang Tang to a lavish feast, Wan Hailiu finally departed.

Yang Tang planned to drop by the school to take a look. Pulling out his phone to check the time, he saw it was already past two o'clock. Crucially, there were numerous unread text messages, all from his head teacher, Old Shang, whose sole intention was to remind him to attend the class meeting promptly at two-thirty in the afternoon.

"Damn it!"

Yang Tang hastily drove his Mercedes-Benz 5 in a rush to the school, hurrying straight to the classroom belonging to the history department's freshman class.

"Reporting!"

Inside the classroom, the students were taking turns introducing themselves on stage. Hearing Yang Tang's voice, they all turned their heads in unison, and Old Shang was naturally no exception.

"Oh ho, Yang Tang, you're arriving quite early, aren't you? What time is it now? You tell me how many text messages I sent you!"

"It's not that, teacher. The traffic on the road was terrible, plus I got lost after entering the campus, which is why I'm late—"

"Alright, Yang Tang, don't go looking for objective excuses with me. Hurry up and find a seat in the back!" As soon as Old Shang finished speaking, it immediately provoked a ripple of giggles and chirps from the female students.

Only then did Yang Tang notice that the class indeed suffered from an imbalance of yin and yang; the male students could be pitifully counted as just four. Fortunately, Liu Tong that fellow wasn't among them, otherwise Yang Tang would have rolled his eyes straight into the back of his head.

After the self-introductions concluded, the election of class committee members began. Since the female students held a numerical advantage, the committee positions naturally went mostly to the girls. Tao Yufei, who had been ostracized by the other girls before the military training, had somehow pulled off some tricky maneuver and was elected class monitor by twelve of her peers, leaving the four boys powerless to object even if they wanted to.

Yang Tang had no initial interest in joining the class committee, but alas, the girls unanimously agreed that the sports commissar position was best suited for a male. Aside from Yang Tang, the other three boys all wore glasses and looked rather sickly; coupled with the fact that Yang Tang was the tallest person in the class, under Tao Yufei's instigation, Yang Tang was "drafted" into becoming the class sports commissar.

One must admit that when facing such a situation, even an older soul like Yang Tang could not muster the iron will to completely veto it in front of a crowd of female students. Of course, had it been a group of guys egging him on to stir up trouble, he certainly would not have taken on the job.

Men and women are different; that is human nature!

At this moment, Old Shang stepped onto the podium and said, "With this, our world history class is officially established. Next, everyone needs to pay their class dues, fifty yuan per person, to be handed over to Tao Yufei by October tenth! Additionally, tomorrow is the thirtieth—the welcome party. Everyone must attend, though we don't need to prepare any performances ourselves; the sophomores and juniors are in charge of that. I heard they've even invited a few celebrities this time!"

"Are there celebrities? Male or female?"

"What tier of celebrity? If they're C-list stars, this young lady won't give them any face!"

"It's best if they bring a few more handsome guys, hee hee—"

The girls in the classroom immediately started gossiping animatedly. Yang Tang and the three bespectacled boys sat in the corner like lowly foot soldiers, entirely devoid of presence.

Seeing this, Old Shang knew he couldn't go on lecturing and grabbed a piece of chalk to write directly on the blackboard: "Ask Tao Yufei for the specific time of the party," before slipping away.

A single woman is equivalent to five hundred ducks; at this, thousands of ducks practically burst into an uproar, leaving Yang Tang and the three other boys with no choice but to tuck their tails between their legs and flee in disarray.

Once out in the hallway, one of the bespectacled boys named Dongfang Jue said, "I realize I was wrong. I shouldn't have majored in history!"

"Right, shouldn't have majored in it."

"I think so too!"

Yang Tang scoffed, "Pity our realization came too late."

Driving out of Peking University, Yang Tang went to a commercial bank to withdraw one hundred thousand yuan in cash, then headed straight for Baishi Audio and Video Company. Unfortunately, upon arrival, he neither bumped into President Qian nor ran into Jiang Zhizhen.

However, President Qian had arranged in advance for a female vice president of the company to receive Yang Tang. It was unclear what instructions President Qian had given her, but upon meeting Yang Tang, this female vice president acted almost ready to grovel in adoration.

Thus, Yang Tang had to speak little and issue more commands. "You're Vice President Tian, right? I agreed with President Qian earlier that I would rent your recording studio and recording staff for a few days. That's not a problem, is it?"

"Of course not a problem at all. Hearing that Young Master Yang was coming, President Qian immediately called and gave me strict instructions to serve you wholeheartedly. As long as you're satisfied, I can do anything!" As she spoke, Vice President Tian, whose appearance was at least an eighty out of a hundred, cast another flirtatious glance at Yang Tang. Regrettably, Yang Tang truly disliked her smoky eye makeup, heavy perfume, and thick foundation, so he could only pretend not to notice her hints.

The only saving grace was that this older woman, Vice President Tian, held considerable authority within Baishi Company. After leading Yang Tang to the recording studio, she merely gave a few instructions to the three people in charge of recording and the accompanying band members waiting nearby, after which those fellows became extremely diligent when executing Yang Tang's directives.

Seeing that Baishi's staff were falling into sync with Yang Tang, Vice President Tian tossed him a flying kiss and wiggled away.

The Baishi personnel present instantly breathed a sigh of relief, even their gazes loosening up. Knowing that music people tended to be naturally bohemian, Yang Tang didn't mind too much. He simply spoke up clearly, "Today I plan to handle the arrangement and accompaniment for five songs. We don't break up until they're finished." Upon hearing this, the eyes of three individuals among the recording crew and the band instantly turned unfriendly. "Therefore, to prevent morale from sagging and the team from falling apart, aside from the rental fees paid to your company, I plan to add an extra two thousand yuan per person for each song. For these five songs, that makes ten thousand!" As he spoke, he unzipped his waist pouch, pulled out a stack of cash as thick as two bricks totaling one hundred thousand, and slapped a neat little stack of bills into the hands of each person one by one.

Once the money was handed out, the recording studio became dead silent—you could hear a pin drop. After a few seconds, the band leader and the chief sound engineer immediately expressed their stance: they would fully cooperate with Yang Tang, and even if it meant pulling an all-nighter, they would get the arrangement and accompaniment for the five songs done!

It had to be said, this was the power of money. To put it simply, if there were no commercial gigs or shows, the entire band couldn't earn this amount of money even if they worked for three months. As for the sound engineers, they had it even worse; while the band could occasionally pick up commercial performances to grease their palms, the engineers drew fixed salaries with only the occasional bonus. Yet the entertainment industry involved a lot of socializing, and every few days of going out for drinks and meals meant their pockets and bank cards were left nearly empty. Ten thousand yuan was enough for three recording engineers to save up for a whole year!

Consequently, the subsequent arrangement and recording proceeded logically and smoothly.

Yang Tang first tackled three relatively simple songs, finishing each in half an hour—quite neatly done. Listening to the demo tracks, backed by his "absolute pitch," they could barely pass muster. Following that, for the two more difficult songs, everyone held their patience, spending an hour on one and an hour and a half on the other, stubbornly pounding out the tracks.

After listening to the demo tracks and finding them barely acceptable, Yang Tang took out three USB flash drives, made several copies, and personally operated the equipment to delete the original tracks from the recording devices before he finally felt at ease.

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