Chapter 25: The Imperial Lyricist

"I've deposited some money into your bank account. Check it and see if you've received it."

After finishing filming for the day, Chen Ping received this WeChat message from Luo Man that evening.

Chen Ping logged into his mobile banking app and was immediately startled.

"Whoa, one million?"

"What's wrong?"

"Well, is the music industry really that lucrative? One million for two sets of lyrics—that's 500,000 per song?"

"In your dreams."

Seeing Chen Ping’s reply, Luo Man rolled her eyes. "For the two sets of lyrics you wrote for me, I'm paying you at the current top-tier rate of 200,000—100,000 per song."

"Then what about the other 800,000?" Chen Ping asked cautiously. "That wouldn't be a fee for keeping me as a kept man, would it?"

"Pfft..."

Luo Man burst into laughter. "Has no one on your film crew told you that your looks are remarkably ordinary?"

"Uh..."

Chen Ping muttered to himself. *Damn this face.*

"The remaining 800,000 is a deposit. From now on, you are my exclusive lyricist."

"Exclusive?" Chen Ping shook his head. "That won't work."

"What, you don't want to write lyrics for me?"

"Of course not."

"Then what's the problem?"

"Does that mean I can't write for anyone else?"

"Heh... looking at your attitude, you’re quite capable, aren't you?"

"It's alright, it's alright."

In his mind, Chen Ping held thousands upon thousands of lyrics from his previous life. After writing those two songs for Luo Man, he had taken the time to research the music scene in this world. While many songs from his past life existed here, there were also many that didn't. Even for those that did exist, the lyrics were often different—much like the song "Clear Stream" that Luo Man had sung earlier.

This was a massive treasure trove; naturally, Chen Ping was unwilling to write for only one person.

"You're overthinking it. If others ask you to write lyrics, you can certainly do so. But if it's for my songs, you cannot refuse."

"That goes without saying."

Even without the deposit, Chen Ping would have agreed. Luo Man was incredibly generous; at 100,000 per song—or even 50,000—Chen Ping would be living very comfortably.

However, having some lingering questions about the pricing of lyrics, Chen Ping asked, "May I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"I'd like to know, what is the standard fee for writing lyrics for others?"

"You don't know?" Luo Man sounded surprised.

"I don't," Chen Ping confirmed with a nod. He had never intended to write for others, and though he had written for Luo Man, the price was set by her. He really had no idea what the market rate was.

"I suppose that makes sense," Luo Man thought for a moment. After all, Chen Ping wasn't a professional lyricist; him writing for her was just a stroke of luck. She then began to enlighten him.

Generally, standard lyrics for someone with minor fame would go for about 1,000. For those with no name recognition, it was a matter of negotiation, ranging anywhere from several tens to a few hundred. Established lyricists might charge 2,000 per song. It was rare for a song to command over 10,000. Only the most renowned lyricists could reach that level. As for 100,000 per song, while not necessarily the absolute ceiling of the industry, it was certainly at the very top of the pyramid.

"I see," Chen Ping nodded. Writing lyrics was like composing music—sometimes it seemed difficult, but when inspiration struck, nothing could stop it. Some lyricists could churn out dozens of songs in a day, which was why the price couldn't be exorbitantly high. Furthermore, songs were prone to becoming dated; once the trend passed, they weren't as popular, keeping the prices in check. Only true classics could command high fees.

"Understood, thank you."

"You're welcome. Actually, I should be thanking you. Because of your lyrics, 'Human World' and 'Years in a Hurry' are being played on repeat in every street and alleyway these past few days."

Speaking of this, Luo Man felt even more optimistic about the future. Despite being a multi-award-winning actress, she hadn't made much headway in the music industry, no matter how much effort her agency put in. Now, thanks to the lyrics Chen Ping wrote for her, she had found a whole new path for development.

"I took your money, didn't I? In the future, I'll have to trouble you, Sister Luo Man, to introduce some business my way."

"Trouble me to introduce business?" Luo Man laughed incessantly. "That’s fine. But you have to maintain the standard of your previous work."

"OK, I'd be too embarrassed to take the money if I didn't."

"You seem quite confident."

"It's alright, it's alright."

"No problem then. If there's any business, I will definitely introduce it to you."

"Thank you." With Luo Man’s backing, Chen Ping didn't need to worry about his future pocket money.

Suddenly, a question occurred to him. "By the way, Sister Luo Man, did you say something to Director Yang?"

"About what?"

"What’s with the 'little brother' thing?"

"If I don't call you 'little brother,' should I call you 'little pecker' instead?" Luo Man sent a mischievous, leering emoji.

"You're so dirty."

"What's dirty about that? If anyone bullies you in the future, just tell them you're being kept by me." Another mischievous emoji followed.

"..."

After chatting with Luo Man for a while, Chen Ping set down his phone. He hadn't expected that Luo Man, a screen legend who appeared so cold and aloof to others, was like this in private. However, it made her feel much more approachable.

...

The next day, it was time for Chen Ping's scenes again.

After leaving the imperial palace, his character, Chao Xiaoshu, headed to the Sword Pavilion to challenge the Sword Saint, Liu Bai, seeking justice for his fallen brothers. Unfortunately, although Chao Xiaoshu’s cultivation had reached the Knowing Destiny realm, he was facing the Sword Saint. He barely caught a glimpse of him—or perhaps he didn't even see him at all. Just by looking through the door crack, he was completely defeated by a single gesture from the Sword Saint.

"Chen Ping, are you alright?"

"Teacher He, I'm fine."

To achieve the desired effect, Chen Ping had been hoisted on wires and then dropped. He Zonghua, who played the Sword Saint, walked over to ask with concern.

Chen Ping held great respect for He Zonghua. "Teacher He, your aura just now was truly overwhelming."

"Don't say that. When it comes to pure acting, I'm not necessarily better than you."

"Teacher He, you're making me blush. Your presence and acting are both incredible. I believe that in *Nightfall*, the name 'Sword Saint Liu Bai' will become another masterpiece in your career."

"Thank you." He Zonghua helped Chen Ping up. He was very fond of the role of Liu Bai—a peerless expert whose martial prowess could rival even Haotian herself, even if he ultimately failed. *Within a foot of his body, that is Liu Bai's world.* He believed that once this role was performed well, it would leave a profound impression on the audience.

"That was a great performance."

"Chen Ping, your scenes for *Nightfall* are officially complete." Director Yang Yang announced to Chen Ping after the scene with He Zonghua ended.

The other actors around them erupted into applause. Although Chen Ping was a newcomer, his acting over the past few days had won them over. At the same time, his stellar performance served as a shot in the arm for the entire cast, showing them that even if they weren't the leads, as long as they put their hearts into it, their roles could shine just as brightly.

Just like Liu Bai—judging by today’s result, he had completely eclipsed Chao Xiaoshu. While that was a matter of character positioning, it proved that if you seized the opportunity, you could do the same.

"Thank you, thank you everyone."

Feeling the goodwill from everyone, Chen Ping thanked them all. He wasn't discouraged by being overshadowed by Liu Bai today. Chen Ping had a healthy mindset; he knew that there were many brilliant characters in *Nightfall* beyond just the Chao Xiaoshu he played.