Chapter One "Grandpa, your son is calling!"

“Grandpa, your son is calling!”
“Grandpa, your son is calling!”
“Who is it?” A hand stretched out from under the covers, and, relying on muscle memory, answered the phone.
As soon as the call connected, a voice came through: “Zhou Ran, come to my office later.”
“Huh? What?” Before Zhou Ran could react, the call was already cut off.
“Who was that? Must be crazy, calling early in the morning just to scold me and say all sorts of weird things.” Awakened by the call, Zhou Ran couldn’t get back to sleep. He simply opened his eyes and decided to get up.
“What the… Where am I?” Zhou Ran sat up and, upon opening his eyes, was completely stunned. He looked around—this wasn’t his home at all!
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his mind, as if something had been forcibly shoved into his brain.
After nearly a minute, Zhou Ran finally recovered. Now, his head was filled with a host of new memories, revealing that he had crossed over into another version of himself in a parallel world. Whether it was a soul swap or something else, he couldn’t be sure.
The original owner’s name was also Zhou Ran.
Their jobs were quite similar too. On Earth, he was an independent musician. Though “musician” sounded fancy, in reality he was just a bar singer, a total amateur. The Zhou Ran of this world, however, was a trainee—a bit more official, at least.
A year ago, the original Zhou Ran had unexpectedly gone viral after posting a video on a popular short-video app.
Zhou Ran got out of bed, opened the laptop on the table, and planned to search for that video.
But before he could even begin, he saw the video immediately.
It turned out the original Zhou Ran had set his viral video as his dynamic wallpaper—a touch narcissistic, to say the least.
In the video, Zhou Ran simply smiled a few times and made a heart gesture.
From Zhou Ran’s current perspective, the video was hopelessly tacky, greasy even, barely different from the outmoded trends of the past.
Yet, with just this one video, the original Zhou Ran had gained nearly a hundred thousand followers overnight on that app.
His current agency, Yongmei Entertainment, somehow got hold of his contact information.
Young and naïve, the protagonist was quickly wooed by a talent scout, envisioning how glamorous his life would be once he became famous and imagining the fans he’d amass.
He signed a ten-year contract with the entertainment company on the spot.
Only after signing did Li Mu realize what kind of company he’d joined.
There were only four or five trainees in the whole agency—a complete small-time operation. As for debut opportunities, that was out of the question.
After a year of training, the original Zhou Ran still had no hope of debuting and could only survive on the company’s free room and board, plus a meager monthly allowance of a thousand yuan.
He didn’t dare tell his family about his situation and could only grit his teeth and bear it.
Whenever his family called to ask how he was doing, Zhou Ran would lie, claiming he was living well, eating lavishly, and enjoying a comfortable life.
But three months ago, Zhou Ran learned that his mother had fallen seriously ill. The family had scrambled to borrow money wherever they could, and now they were deep in debt.
This world’s history was almost identical to Earth’s, but many films, shows, and celebrities were missing.
After fully digesting the original’s memories, Zhou Ran tidied himself up and took a cab to the company.
When he opened the manager’s office door, he found his manager looking up at him with a serious expression.
“Sister Mi, what’s wrong? Why so serious all of a sudden?” Zhou Ran felt a bit uneasy.
Sister Mi, whose full name was Li Mi, was both Zhou Ran’s manager and the owner of the agency—juggling multiple roles out of necessity. To put it bluntly, the company was just poor.
“Zhou Ran, I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?” she said.
“Um…” Zhou Ran was a little speechless at her suspenseful tone but didn’t show it—after all, she was his boss.
“Sister Mi, let’s get the bad news over with. I’d rather be prepared.” Zhou Ran decided to get the worst out of the way.
“The bad news is, the company is about to go bankrupt. You’re going to be out of a job,” Li Mi said helplessly.
“What?” Zhou Ran was stunned. He often joked with others that, with the company in its sorry state, he was afraid it might go bankrupt someday.
But now that the moment had truly come, he found it hard to accept. He hadn’t expected it to happen so suddenly.
Was he really going to slink back home in defeat? When he first set out, he’d been brimming with youthful arrogance, telling his parents he wouldn’t return unless he’d made something of himself.
Now, he didn’t know how he would face his debt-ridden family and the parents who had worked so hard to raise him.
“So, what’s the good news?” Zhou Ran didn’t hold out much hope, but he figured he might as well hear it.
“The good news is, I’ve secured you a spot on a variety show. You have a chance to debut!”
“I have a chance to debut?” Li Mu was stunned. He’d been waiting for this news for a year; it had come so suddenly.
Li Mi’s words gave Zhou Ran a glimmer of hope. No matter how hard it was, he would seize this rare opportunity.
“But Sister Mi, if you have the connections to get me a debut opportunity, why is the company going bankrupt?” Zhou Ran felt there was some contradiction.
“Sigh, running a company isn’t as easy as it looks.” Li Mi shook her head with resignation. “This opportunity is something I secured for you personally. Make the most of it. From today on, you’re on your own.”
“The show records tomorrow. I’ll pick you up then. Do your best,” she said, patting Zhou Ran on the shoulder before heading out.
“Sister Mi, if I debut, will you still be my manager?” Zhou Ran called after her.
“You should focus on surviving the elimination rounds before you worry about that,” Li Mi replied as she left.
“Nice! Running a talent agency is exhausting—traveling would be so much better. Once I get these kids sorted, I can go globetrotting. You really think debuting is that easy, kid?” Li Mi almost couldn’t help blurting out her excitement as she closed the door.
There was no bankruptcy at all—the boss just thought running an agency wasn’t fun anymore and wanted to go traveling, so she made up an excuse.
Zhou Ran, still in the office, could never have known this. He sat there, feeling a pang of melancholy. After all, he’d spent over a year at this company, and leaving so abruptly was hard to accept.
Many things are like that—you only regret not cherishing them once they’re gone.
After lingering in the company for a while, Zhou Ran took one last look around before hailing a cab back to the company dormitory.
Fortunately, the dorm lease hadn’t expired yet, so Zhou Ran could stay one more night.
Otherwise, he’d be out on the street, which would’ve been embarrassing—a time traveler spending his first night sleeping rough! What a disgrace that would be.