Lin Feng stood on the rooftop, looking down at all the stars at his company, who were shouting and carrying on like crazy. Gazing up at the sky, he said, "Fan Bingbing, Baby, Liying, Yang Mi... Stop yelling! If you want an autograph, come one at a time, okay?"
Being successful is exhausting. Being a successful second-generation star is even more exhausting.
The God of Song? Don't be ridiculous. His father's company had its artists sing for him. But his new album is great, so I'm going to buy a copy before it sells out.
The Best Actor? Stop bragging. His father's company had its artists act for him. But his movies are really good, so I'm going to see the premiere.
The director? What nonsense. The company's directors made the movies for him. He just put his name on them. Still, this movie is damn good.
A rich man? Bullshit. It's all his father's money.
This novel and its characters are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual people or events is purely coincidental. Do not imitate.
