【Stop nagging, I'm busy spending money: Full package for 24 hours, double the price.】
Hua Shuangshuang wiped her sweaty palms and gripped her phone tightly, waiting for a response. In her nervousness, she accidentally sent out a sticker that read 【I’m so broke.jpg】. Flustered, she quickly withdrew it before anyone could react.
Hua Shuangshuang was a simple, devoted fan of Luo Yin.
If there was one thing that set her apart from other fans, it was her role as one of the administrators behind the official fan club account 【Protecting the Best Luo Yin in the World】.
It was this very position that led her on an extraordinary journey.
Everything started with an ordinary @ notification she received one day while managing the account…
Just as Hua Shuangshuang was reminiscing, her phone dinged with a new message.
After the big spender’s bold statement, the group chat had fallen into a long silence before someone finally spoke up timidly: “I can try asking my supervisor, but it’s already past nine at night…”
Hua Shuangshuang knew this game all too well—it was just a bargaining tactic. She was just about to jump in and help negotiate when she saw the big spender’s next message pop up.
Short, but shocking.
【Stop nagging, I'm busy spending money: Then triple it.】
Hua Shuangshuang: “……” Oh… oh my… the power of money!
The group chat fell into another stunned silence, everyone clearly too shocked to respond.
【Stop nagging, I'm busy spending money: Are none of the contacts Yu Qianshan gave me any good?】
As an avid follower of the entertainment industry and a longtime fan of Luo Yin, Hua Shuangshuang obviously knew who Yu Qianshan was.
She had known the big spender had a list of LED screen contacts, but it had never crossed her mind that it came from Yu Qianshan—the man behind over a dozen entertainment companies.
Yu Qianshan’s identity was no secret online, and anyone close to him was undoubtedly someone extraordinary.
Ah… must be from a completely different world, no wonder they’re so loaded. Hua Shuangshuang thought enviously.
The mention of Yu Qianshan’s name, paired with the promise of money, instantly made the contacts much more enthusiastic. They eagerly assured they could work overtime.
Without waiting for further instructions, Hua Shuangshuang quickly stepped in to coordinate the arrangements, pulling in a few fellow fan club administrators to help.
As the saying goes, money makes things happen.
When the boss speaks, who dares disobey?
The contacts, who usually responded half-heartedly, were suddenly bending over backward to assist.
Once the group chat quieted down and everyone rushed off to work, Hua Shuangshuang dutifully recorded all the expenses in the future transparency report before finally exhaling, feeling like she was still dreaming.
Out of habit, she highlighted a few numbers and summed them up, then nearly choked when she saw the total.
It wasn’t money being spent—it was water.
As if millions were mere pocket change.
……Wait, no, even pocket change isn’t spent that casually!!!
—Indeed, the struggling fan club had recently been blessed by a big spender who treated money like kindling, casually throwing around phrases like “ten sets each,” “I’ll pay extra,” “double,” and “triple.” Even their WeChat name was blunt: 【Stop nagging, I'm busy spending money】.
Someone who found spending money a hassle? Now that was real wealth.
The Luo Yin fan club, which had always scraped by on crowdfunding, suddenly felt like a bronze player being carried by a pro—the kind of luck that left everyone dazed.
Before Luo Yin’s birthday, the fan club had gone all out preparing gifts and promotions, including a Weibo giveaway with prizes worth six figures.
…And then the mysterious big spender arrived, casually tossing in thirty luxury perfume gift sets worth over 300,000 yuan to sweeten the pot.
There was a world of difference between “having 300,000 yuan to spare” and “throwing away 300,000 yuan like it’s nothing.”
Hua Shuangshuang thought mournfully of her own meager savings and clasped her hands together in prayer toward her phone.
—Please, let me absorb just a fraction of this wealth! Just enough for a down payment would do!!!
As she bowed her head in reverence, her phone dinged again.
【Stop nagging, I'm busy spending money: If there’s nothing else, I’m going to sleep.】
Hua Shuangshuang scrambled to reply: “Big boss, aren’t you staying up till midnight?”
The response was a single indifferent “No.”
“Then remember to check Weibo tomorrow! We’ll post a thank-you list!”
【Stop nagging, I'm busy spending money: Got it.】
Hua Shuangshuang sighed in relief, sending the big spender off with admiration in her eyes. She then clicked on their profile to peek at their Moments.
The big spender’s Moments were surprisingly simple, devoid of the flashy wealth-flaunting common among influencers.
The latest post read: 【Fifteen-yuan milk tea still tastes the best.】, accompanied by a photo of steaming milk tea in an exquisite English tea set—clearly high-end.
Hua Shuangshuang: “……” Guess this is the kind of problem only the rich have. I wouldn’t know.
Silently, she opened a food delivery app and ordered two cups of milk tea to fuel her all-nighter.
Two hectic hours later, at exactly midnight, 【Protecting the Best Luo Yin in the World】 began releasing scheduled posts at one-minute intervals.
The fans who had been camping under the official account were the first to be stunned.
First giveaway post: Signed album.
Fans cheered: I’m in!
Second giveaway post: Meet-and-greet tickets.
Fans went wild: Count me in!!!
Third giveaway post: TF lipstick set (4 shades).
Casual fans joined the fray, and the promotions started trending.
……
Seventh giveaway post: Thanks to sponsor @StillSpendingMoneyToday, we’re giving away 20 Jo Malone £18,888 luxury perfume gift sets.
Top comment: “?!?!?!”
Everyone knew giveaways boosted followers—the more extravagant, the more buzz they generated. But few could afford to throw around this kind of cash. Even a few thousand was considered generous.
A giveaway worth hundreds of thousands instantly drew attention from fans, casual onlookers, and even rival fanbases.
As the post went viral, crowds flocked to the sponsor’s Weibo page to gawk.
Zhong Ziyan’s Weibo was surprisingly bare—default cover, default layout, barely any posts. It looked like an abandoned account.
The first post asked how to spend money. The second post simply picked a method and jumped into fandom life.
—Seriously, normal people don’t sit around wondering, “How can I spend money faster?!”
Zhong Ziyan’s second post was flooded with comments.
【Checking in as a jealous peasant. Hey, rich lady, does your household need a freeloader? I eat a lot, but I can sort trash for you.】
【Where are the photos showing off your wealth? Hurry up and post them!! I need to soak in the aura of a rich lady’s life ahhh!!】
【Just became a fan and immediately splurged—this is way too satisfying. Girl, ever thought about switching idols? Let me introduce you to my ultimate bias!】
【I’m totally not jealous of this kind of life 1551 [lemon.jpg][lemon.jpg][lemon.jpg]】
【Rich lady, love me!! I don’t want to work hard anymore!!!!】
【Speaking of this style, it reminds me of that rich lady who impulsively bought an island earlier this month @LivestreamManiac Second Miss】
【Now that you mention it… That island was later renamed Cloud Island, and Luo Yin’s English name is Cloud, right?! @LivestreamManiac Second Miss】
The hashtag #LuoYin0430HappyBirthday soared straight to the top of trending, followed by several backup hashtags prepared by fan clubs and the eye-catching #LuoYinRichFanBuysIsland.
Late at night, Second Miss’s assistant noticed the sudden surge in an unrelated trending topic that somehow landed on their boss. Puzzled, they reported it to Second Miss.
Though Second Miss strictly kept Zhong Ziyan’s address, name, and contact details confidential, she had memorized them all.
—No one in this world would spend their entire fortune to buy an island. If someone could casually drop over 80 million on a private island, it meant 80 million was nothing to them.
Someone with that kind of background could only be appeased, never crossed. Second Miss wasn’t foolish enough to sell information.
Because she remembered so clearly, when she saw the account 【TodayAlsoTryingToSpendMoney】’s displayed location, she was 80% certain. She swiftly hit follow and joined the repost giveaway.
Second Miss was already among the top tier of streamers, and her repost instantly propelled the trend to its peak, pushing it toward the top three by 1 AM and knocking Yu Qianshan’s hashtag down a spot.
Though Luo Yin had experienced explosive popularity before, he had been lying low lately, with no new works, and hadn’t climbed this high on the trending charts in a long time.
The commotion quickly caught the attention of Luo Yin’s manager, who asked the fan club for details before crossing his arms and marveling at Luo Yin, “A fan this generous is rare—others can’t even dream of it. Their contribution is huge. Shouldn’t you go say hi?”
Luo Yin, sitting cross-legged in the recording studio, glanced at his manager, his voice slightly hoarse. “I’m not going.”
Brother Xu had expected this but still couldn’t help grumbling, “If only you were a little nicer, a little more tactful, a little softer-spoken, you wouldn’t be where you are now… If I had your face and voice, I’d be way more famous than you.”
Luo Yin gave Brother Xu a sidelong glance, unfazed, before turning his attention back to the well-worn sheet music in front of him.
Just as Brother Xu finished his bitter rant, the doorbell rang incessantly, forcing him to turn and answer it.
Not long after, the manager returned with a bag. “Li Ye sent a courier… Let’s see if the genius sent you a birthday gift… A recorder? Oh, there’s a note too—says it’s a delivery on someone else’s behalf.”
Luo Yin looked up, exhaled, and swept his slightly overgrown bangs back. “Give it to me.”
Brother Xu handed it over without suspicion, his mind still occupied by the rich fan’s extravagant spending for Luo Yin’s sake.
He even considered secretly reaching out to this big spender to see if they could secure some resources for Luo Yin.
Luo Yin took the recorder, recognizing it as the expensive model Li Ye favored.
He pressed play, and a slightly distorted but crystal-clear voice sang through the device.
The lyrics weren’t in any language Luo Yin could recognize, yet the ethereal melody seemed to pierce straight through his skull, soothing his nerves like an invisible hand gently combing through his consciousness, leaving him refreshed.
The tune matched the arrangement of his new song—the one he had memorized backward and forward but still couldn’t perfect.
The recording was short, just five or six lines before cutting off abruptly, yet the elusive inspiration that had evaded Luo Yin for days suddenly crystallized in his mind.
Brother Xu, who had just left, rushed back to the door, eyes wide. “Who was that singing? I want to sign her!!”
Luo Yin immediately clenched the recorder in his palm and paused it.
Brother Xu looked dazed. “I think I just hallucinated an elf singing from a tree.”
“You misheard,” Luo Yin said coldly. “Sleep deprivation.”
After ruthlessly shooing Brother Xu away, Luo Yin closed the studio door and listened to the recording several more times, finally breaking free from its inexplicable magic.
Though there was no proof, Luo Yin just knew—this was a recording sent by the composer who went by 【Zhong Hui】, delivered through Li Ye.
“Straight out of Lord of the Rings…” Luo Yin murmured, recalling Li Ye’s earlier comment, before carefully placing the recorder into a storage box on the table.
Someone with such talent had chosen to believe in and help him. No matter what, he would pour everything into ensuring their song wouldn’t be disgraced.
