My Girlfriend Is a Cello Player-Chapter 80: The First Big Payday

Chapter 80: The First Big Payday
"First off, the two of them never show their faces in the videos and always use pseudonyms. It's pretty simple logic—what kind of composer or musician would hide behind fake names like that? Clearly, ‘Moonlight' and ‘Cat' aren't necessarily people; they're symbols. If someone else takes over tomorrow, no one will even notice."
"You ordinary folks might not know this, but to those of us in the industry, this kind of thing is everywhere on platforms like these. Then there's their performance skills. Moonlight's piano playing is decent enough for a professional level, but Cat's cello? Incredible. According to a cellist friend of mine, if we're talking about domestic talent, this is top-tier—T1 level stuff.
High schoolers? Really?"
"And then there are the compositions themselves. Greeting of Love, Can-Can Dance, and that other one—Symphony in G Minor: Pathétique. Do you really think just anyone can whip up pieces like that? Seriously?"
"Three songs in a month. High schoolers? C'mon. There's no way these two are operating without a team behind them. Think about it—it's obvious. ‘Cat' was hired, probably paid handsomely. And ‘Moonlight'? Just an actor representing a company's composing team."
"They've crafted this whole vibe of 'two pure-hearted high schoolers jamming together' to pull fans in. Honestly, whoever came up with this strategy deserves respect. Finding a cellist as talented as ‘Cat' and hiring a composing team capable of producing music like this? That's not something your average crew could pull off."
"And the everyday authenticity in their videos? Most actors couldn't fake that kind of charm."
Lin Tian stared blankly, his jaw slack.
Damn. What he said made so much sense.
If he weren't personally involved—if he didn't have his own secret stash of pre-written compositions—he'd totally buy into it too.
Then, the fat guy dropped another bombshell.
"Many of you probably missed this detail: every single video description from Moonlight and Cat includes the note, ‘Equipment provided by SYC.'"
"If you don't know what SYC is, go look it up. It's one of the top music agencies in the country. Do you really think two random high school kids have the connections or talent to catch SYC's attention?"
"Sure, you could argue that Moonlight and Cat are amateurs with no backing, that all the music and videos are entirely self-made, and that they're both once-in-a-century geniuses. Fine, I'll concede—that would be impressive. If that's true, I'll kowtow, apologize, delete my video, and beg to apprentice under them."
At the end of the video, the fat guy added one last comment:
"The real reason you lot don't get it is because you don't realize how damn incredible Moonlight's so-called ‘self-composed' pieces actually are."
"Here's the deal: if any of you are in Qingzhou next Wednesday, head over to Qingtian Hall. There's a concert happening, and two young performers—one on cello, one on piano—are set to play Moonlight and Cat's three tracks live. Go see it for yourself."
"Watch how a professional cellist handles the piece, listen to what the music critics say afterward, and then you'll understand just how valuable those compositions really are."
When Lin Tian finished watching the video, his first thought was—
Oh no.
Now he understood why searching for concert-related content had led him here. So this was part of the promotion too, huh? And damn, the video was blowing up.
120,000 likes. Play count? Probably north of a million.
Scrolling through the comments, he spotted a few inquiries about how to buy tickets for the Qingzhou concert. At this rate, the turnout might actually be bigger than expected.
He'd assumed attendance would be light since it was a weekday, but now… Gan Yanyu's stress levels were about to skyrocket.
Not to mention, Lin Tian himself had done a little promoting back when he was at Xingye Conservatory of Music. At the time, he hadn't realized Gan Yanyu would react so strongly later.
With all this buzz building up, Lin Tian had a sinking feeling…
Next week's concert was going to draw more people than anticipated. Maybe… a lot more.
---
Sunday. Three days until the concert.
Early that morning, Lin Tian called Gan Yanyu over to his place.
Today was payday—the day they'd finally see the results of their hard work.
The two sprawled out on the couch, phones in hand, waiting for news from Lucky Music Shop.
After seven days, the final numbers for their video were in: 960,000 likes, 33.49 million views.
An insanely high engagement rate. While it didn't quite reach viral TikTok status like Can-Can Dance, these figures still qualified as a massive hit.
As for how many of those millions would translate into sales of entry-level cellos priced at over ten grand each? Hard to say. But honestly, that wasn't Lin Tian's problem anymore.
Ding-dong.
The phone notification chimed.
Lin Tian immediately opened the message, Gan Yanyu leaning in close to peek.
"Zhonghua Agricultural Bank: Lucky Music Shop Co., Ltd. deposited ¥100,470.85 into your account ending in 4396 at 10:21 AM."
Lin Tian counted the digits again. Six figures.
His breath hitched.
"100,000 yuan."
He turned to Gan Yanyu, trying to keep his voice steady. "Yanyu, we did it. We struck gold."
She nodded quietly. "Yeah."
"It's all thanks to our combined efforts."
"You worked hard," she replied with a soft smile.
"From now on, we won't have to worry about what to eat ever again."
"Mm-hmm."
Finally, unable to contain himself, Lin Tian clenched his fist and pumped it triumphantly in the air.
Hell yeah.
Just a month ago, he'd been pulling shifts at 30 Yuan an hour, stressing over two months' worth of unpaid rent and looming university tuition fees.
Now? He was officially a high schooler sitting on a six-figure bank balance.
No more worrying about money. Ever.
Technically speaking, minus the 10,000-yuan bonus the system had gifted earlier, this 100k marked their very first big payday.
Every step along the way—from negotiating with advertisers to splitting profits and testing products—had been achieved solely through Lin Tian and Gan Yanyu's sweat and determination.
"It feels amazing," Lin Tian murmured.
Watching his joyful expression, Gan Yanyu grinned widely. "C'mon, let's celebrate!"
"Let's go out for dinner!" Lin Tian hopped up enthusiastically.
It was a rare Sunday, and they'd just earned their first windfall. Not celebrating felt downright wrong.
"But wait, the concert's in two days. Shouldn't we spend today practicing?" Gan Yanyu frowned slightly.
"Work hard, play hard," Lin Tian countered gently.
He didn't want her burning herself out. Sometimes rest was just as important as practice—like how teachers often dismissed students early before major exams.
"Fine, I'll change clothes real quick." Gan Yanyu stood up.
"What do you feel like eating? Let's lop off the spare change, and we've got 470 bucks to splurge. Hot pot? Seafood? Steak?"
Lin Tian listed options eagerly. After spending so much time with Gan Yanyu, they'd never treated themselves to anything fancy before.
"Hmm…"
Gan Yanyu pressed her lips together, deep in thought. Then, clasping her hands together, she smiled sweetly.
"I want pudding."