I Became an All-round Artist

Lin Yuan's achievement of securing the January championship track with his new song didn’t just catch the attention of the public. It also caused quite a stir within the composition department at Xingmang.

It wasn't so much that this accomplishment was unprecedented—though Lin Yuan's success was impressive, the top composers on the tenth floor had all claimed seasonal championship titles before. In fact, even some of the non-star composers had managed to achieve this feat, so it wasn’t exactly something to boast about.

What truly deserved praise was Lin Yuan's three consecutive victories!
Most gold-tier composers might take half a year to produce a single hit song, with their quality inevitably fluctuating. Yet, within just three months, Lin Yuan had released three hit songs, each with outstanding results—
This level of consistency was unimaginable for the average composer.

Take Wu Yong, for instance. He had been with the company for about ten years and had only ever won one seasonal championship. And that season, no A-list singers were even competing.
In comparison, Wu Yong realized, with a pang of sorrow, that Lin Yuan’s accomplishments in his first three months nearly matched what he had struggled to achieve in twenty or thirty years.

Old Zhou had been closely watching the December charts for "Big Fish."
Lin Yuan himself had no idea that, on the last day of December, "Big Fish" had actually climbed to the tenth spot on the seasonal chart.
Joining the race halfway through the month and still breaking into the top ten during December, which was notoriously competitive—
The performance of "Big Fish" was nothing short of stunning!

But before Old Zhou could even fully process the success of the last song, Lin Yuan had already topped this month’s chart with "Flammable and Explosive."
And he did it by taking down two A-list singers—
It was a brutally efficient move.
"Am I not giving him enough attention?" Old Zhou wondered, suddenly feeling like he couldn’t keep up with Lin Yuan’s pace.

He realized he needed to be more involved in the growth of this talented newcomer!
So, he quietly appeared on the tenth floor of the composition department.
As soon as he walked in, he saw Lin Yuan deeply engrossed in his computer from a distance.
"Indeed, no one’s success comes by luck," Old Zhou thought, feeling a sense of pride as he walked towards Lin Yuan.

But as he got closer, Old Zhou realized that Lin Yuan wasn’t working hard at all—the kid was actually reading a novel on his computer!
"..."
With so many eyes on him, Old Zhou couldn’t afford to play favorites too blatantly. He couldn’t help but cough to get Lin Yuan’s attention, "Lin Yuan, you’re still on the clock. What exactly are you doing?"

"Looking for inspiration," Lin Yuan responded without missing a beat.
Old Zhou: "..." Here it comes! He’s started!

In the composition department, there was a widespread practice.
Whether it was playing games at work and getting caught by a supervisor, watching movies on the job and getting busted, or slacking off in some other way and being caught red-handed, these composers always had a righteous excuse at the ready:
"Looking for inspiration."

It was much like how the veteran composers would often disappear from the office, their excuse always being that they were "out gathering material."

"Looking for inspiration" had become the go-to line for the composition department to fend off the higher-ups.
So, Old Zhou often felt like these composers were constantly rubbing his intelligence in the dirt.
"I could maybe accept you watching movies to find inspiration..."

Does Battling in Summoner’s Rift Count as Seeking Inspiration?

Does playing an intense shooter game count as seeking inspiration?
And the most outrageous one—does chatting with your girlfriend about hotel plans for the evening count as seeking inspiration?
Well, apparently now reading novels at work counts as seeking inspiration too.
Lin Yuan hasn't been on the job for long, yet he’s already gotten this proficient at the excuses—

It’s definitely the fault of his colleagues!
If it weren’t for this group constantly pulling these tricks, how could Lin Yuan have learned to "go bad" so quickly?

Old Zhou shot a sharp glare at the people around him.
The surrounding colleagues immediately put on innocent faces—
Lin Yuan is clearly self-taught! What does this have to do with us? Nobody’s ever done that in front of him since he started working here!
Besides, even when we do pull that trick, most of us feel guilty about it. Who else can be as bold and self-assured as Lin Yuan?

But no one dared to argue with Old Zhou, so they all quietly took the blame.
Old Zhou turned his attention back to Lin Yuan, his smile returning, "So, have you found your inspiration?"

He was now more protective of Lin Yuan than his own kids—too fond to scold or criticize him. Besides, who knows? Maybe Lin Yuan really was looking for inspiration by reading novels.

Lin Yuan shook his head.
He had only one more song left and didn’t plan to release it just yet.
His colleagues had been discussing his three consecutive victories at work today, which meant he’d been standing out too much recently. It was time to cool things down a bit.

"No worries, take your time."
Old Zhou wasn’t surprised that Lin Yuan didn’t have a new song ready.
After all, producing three consecutive hits was already an incredible feat, even for a seasoned composer. How could someone, especially a newcomer, keep up that pace?

After Old Zhou left, Lin Yuan continued browsing the novel website.
In fact, he wasn’t reading novels—he was submitting his work to Supernova. This morning, Supernova officially opened its submission channels.
He figured, since he had some free time at work, he might as well work on a side project.

Following the submission process, Lin Yuan sent the system-prepared "The Prince of Tennis" to the official email of the Yinlan Library.
After submitting, Lin Yuan suddenly had a question: "System, does 'The Prince of Tennis' contain a lot of technical tennis knowledge just to mislead readers?"

"No," the system responded in Lin Yuan's mind. "The original 'Prince of Tennis' anime does contain a lot of exaggerated and unrealistic tennis techniques, especially in later stages, as the focus was more on making the scenes look cool rather than accurate. The original author wasn’t a professional national tennis player. However, the system is very rigorous, so the novel it has adapted is also highly accurate. The tennis knowledge depicted in the novel is extremely professional. Although many of the techniques may seem fantastical, they are theoretically possible actions that professional tennis players could perform in reality."

"Got it," Lin Yuan said, reassured. He had been worried that the scenes in the book might come across as too fake and could be criticized by tennis experts, which could affect his literary reputation points. But with the system's assurance, he didn’t have to worry about that anymore.

At this moment, the system suddenly chimed in: "Friendly reminder, future novels will be placed in the host’s mind, and the host will need to write them out. Relying on unearned rewards is not a good habit."

"My typing speed is pretty slow," Lin Yuan remarked.

"The system will enhance the host's typing speed," it replied.

Lin Yuan frowned slightly but didn’t resist too much. After all, he was the author of the novels; he couldn’t rely on the system to write for him forever.

However, this would mean sacrificing some of his work hours.
Don’t ask why he’s writing novels during work hours. If anyone asks, just say he’s seeking inspiration.

By this time, the morning shift had ended, and Lin Yuan headed to the cafeteria for lunch.
Today, the company had paid its employees, so Lin Yuan no longer had to worry about meals.
He even planned to contact his sister in the evening.

Lin Yuan hadn’t forgotten his promise—he was determined to buy his sister a new phone and maybe send her some money as well.
As for the rest, he’d keep some for himself and send the rest home.
There were still quite a few debts at home that hadn’t been paid off.
This month, Lin Yuan had made quite a bit of money, including commissions from "Big Fish," which had already been credited. Compared to last month, this was a bumper harvest.