Otaku Translation: My Girlfriend Is a Cello Player C159

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Chapter 159: ’s Work

“Release an album?”

paused, mulling over the idea. Truthfully, this had been part of his original plan—to start working on it after the were over. With the grueling tests behind him and six months until the , he had little academic pressure left. Outside of competing alongside , Lin Tian could focus entirely on earning money. It was the perfect window to formalize their partnership.

Turning to Gan Yanyu, Lin Tian sought her thoughts. But instead of offering input, she simply stared at him blankly before replying, “I don’t have any objections.”

“Huh?”

“It’s your dream, Lin Tian,” Gan Yanyu said earnestly. “Whatever you decide, I’ll support you fully. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll put in my best effort.”

“…”

Yes, that was right.

Lin Tian smiled softly, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders. On that night when they first became partners, they made a pact: Lin Tian would help Gan Yanyu chase her dreams of winning competitions, while Gan Yanyu would collaborate with Lin Tian on creating videos. Their goal was mutual—supporting each other’s ambitions.

For Gan Yanyu, whether it was filming or releasing albums, none of those things mattered as much as excelling in and winning every competition she entered. She poured herself into these collaborations not for fame or profit but because it was Lin Tian’s dream. To her, anything tied to Lin Tian’s aspirations deserved her full commitment.

And yet… was releasing an album truly Lin Tian’s dream?

For the longest time, Lin Tian’s ambition had been simple: to rise above his circumstances by any means necessary—even if it meant becoming the king of foot massages. Music had merely been one path among many. But now, something had shifted.

Slowly, he’d come to realize how profoundly music could change lives—not just his own, but others’ too. Gan Yanyu’s dream of conquering international music competitions no longer belonged solely to her; Lin Tian had embraced it wholeheartedly as his own mission. And similarly, though Gan Yanyu claimed she’d support whatever Lin Tian pursued, her dedication went far beyond mere assistance. Without realizing it, she had intertwined Lin Tian’s dreams with hers, treating them as inseparable.

Her words—that she’d follow wherever Lin Tian led—were less about obligation and more about giving herself permission to trust him completely.

“If releasing an album can help more people hear our music,” Lin Tian said thoughtfully after a long pause, “then I think we should give it a try.”

This was the beautiful intersection of their ideals—the finest consensus they’d reached regarding their shared passion for music.

“…”

At this, He Zhichen nodded, subtly adjusting his glasses. “You don’t need to rush your decision, Mr. Lin. Releasing an album isn’t as straightforward as uploading a TikTok video. It’s not just about recording tracks and waiting for success—it’s complex. Choosing the right music agency to handle everything is also critical.”

He stood up then, offering a polite smile. “Before making any decisions, I’d like to formally invite both of you to visit my company, . Getting a closer look at how professional musicians operate might clarify things.”

“…”

“All right,” Lin Tian agreed. “When?”

“If possible, tomorrow morning. I have a meeting this afternoon, but I’ll pick you two up bright and early.”

---

The next day, Lin Tian took extra care with his appearance before heading out. After all, visiting a music agency for the first time meant there was always the chance of running into celebrities. First impressions mattered.

He styled his hair into a neat 7:3 part and swapped his usual attire for a crisp white long-sleeved shirt. Gan Yanyu, on the other hand, kept her look effortlessly chic—her jet-black hair flowing freely over her shoulders, paired with a sleek black off-the-shoulder dress.

There was something admirable about women who let their hair down daily. It signaled discipline, given how troublesome washing and maintaining long hair could be—a small act of perseverance that spoke volumes. Lin Tian recalled hearing once from a female friend in high school that girls only wore their hair loose after washing it, signaling pride in their appearance. Similarly, he learned, observing whether someone bothered grooming themselves could hint at how invested they were in presenting well during interactions.

“…”

Outside their apartment complex, Lin Tian and Gan Yanyu waited for He Zhichen’s car—a sleek black . Clearly, Gao Zhenyang hadn’t exaggerated; He Zhichen wasn’t just knowledgeable—he had serious financial clout. Anyone driving a car like that was likely at the top tier of their field.

“How long will it take to get to your office?” Lin Tian asked as they hit the road.

“About half an hour.”

“That’s manageable.”

In , a bustling metropolis, thirty minutes was considered close proximity. Watching He Zhichen navigate traffic so smoothly, Lin Tian realized he still knew very little about the man’s work. Curious, he probed further:

“How many artists do you manage?”

“Not many—three.”

“All musicians?”

“No, one pianist, one singer, and one actor.”

“That’s quite a range!” Lin Tian remarked, surprised.

It wasn’t just the diversity of professions under He Zhichen’s wing that intrigued him—it was the breadth of Yueyun Entertainment’s operations. Managing clients across such varied fields required expertise in multiple industries and the ability to communicate effectively with each artist. No wonder He Zhichen earned his keep.

“In reality,” He Zhichen explained while keeping his eyes on the road, his tone softening, “the differences between these roles aren’t as vast as they seem. To me, being a manager feels more like being a parental figure. Beyond arranging schedules and handling logistics, the real job is caring for the artists’ well-being. When they’re lost or anxious, I guide them emotionally. When they’re down, I offer encouragement. Seeing them step onto the stage of their dreams—that sense of accomplishment is unmatched by anything else.”

“…”

Lin Tian hadn’t expected He Zhichen, whose approach seemed so data-driven, to view his role through such a heartfelt lens.

Moments later, the car slowed as He Zhichen rolled down his window.

“We’re almost there.”

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