The subway during evening rush hour was like a stuffed steel capsule. Lin Wei was squeezed in the crowd, her fingertips tightly clutching a canvas bag that was almost deformed by the pressure. The air was a mix of leftover coffee aroma, the laundry detergent scent on a stranger's checkered shirt, and the cry of a child from afar—everything heightened the fatigue in her already strained nerves.
She skillfully put on her noise-canceling headphones and tapped precisely on her playlist with her fingertip—Cortis Martin's Silent Dawn flowed out instantly. The piano melody was like dewdrops untouched by the morning light, clear yet gentle in just the right way, completely blocking out the hustle and bustle around her. Lin Wei closed her eyes slightly, leaning against the cold carriage wall, as if she had suddenly fallen into another world.
In this world, there were no endless spreadsheets to process, no boss's peremptory urging. There was only Martin's voice—deep and resonant, like a pair of gentle hands, gently smoothing the wrinkles in her heart.
Becoming a fan of Cortis Martin was the luckiest accident in Lin Wei's life three years ago. Back then, she had just graduated, fumbling her way through this concrete jungle of a big city. Stuck in a meaningless administrative job, she was swamped by trivial tasks every day, even feeling heavy when breathing. Until one late night, she stumbled upon Martin's song on a music platform. The line "There's always a faint light in the dark, waiting for you to reach up and meet it" hit her right to the core.
Since then, Martin's music had become her spiritual salvation. She would loop his albums with headphones on during late-night overtime at the office; she would jog along the riverbank on weekend mornings, letting his songs drift into her ears with the breeze; she would even take a trip to a neighboring city, squeezing into the crowd at his small-scale tour gigs, watching the glowing figure on the stage from a distance, her heart filled with burning longing.
The subway's arrival announcement pulled her back to reality. Lin Wei took off her headphones and walked out of the station with the crowd. The evening wind, carrying the coolness of early autumn, blew against her. She wrapped her thin coat tighter around herself and quickened her pace toward the old residential area where she rented an apartment. Passing the convenience store downstairs, she bought a heated bento box and returned to her tiny rental apartment, which was no more than a dozen square meters.
When she turned on her computer, an industry news alert popped up in the bottom right corner of the screen—and it stopped her in her tracks: "The team of independent musician Cortis Martin is publicly recruiting an artist manager assistant. Requirements include strong communication skills, familiarity with music industry operations, and preference will be given to candidates with in-depth understanding of his works."
Lin Wei's heart skipped a beat, and her fingertips even trembled a little. She read the recruitment information three times repeatedly to make sure she wasn't mistaken. An artist manager assistant—this meant she could get close to Martin, participate in his music career, and become part of his work.
This thought took root and sprouted in her heart in an instant. She looked at the Martin album poster placed on her desk; the man in the poster had gentle eyes and was focusing on plucking the guitar strings. Lin Wei took a deep breath, her gaze gradually hardening with determination.
Maybe this was her chance to break free from her current life; maybe she could get a little closer to the light that had been guiding her.
That night, Lin Wei stayed up late revising her resume. Since she had no industry experience, she wrote in detail her understanding of each of Martin's albums, analyzed his musical style and market positioning, and even put forward several creative ideas for tour promotions. After finishing, she checked it over and over again before carefully clicking the "send" button.
The city outside the window was still brightly lit. Lin Wei leaned on her desk, and the melody of Silent Dawn played again in her headphones. She closed her eyes, as if she could already see herself standing beside Martin, organizing his performance schedule, coordinating his work affairs, and becoming his most reliable backup.
At that moment, even the smallness of the rental apartment no longer felt oppressive—because she knew that an adventure about passion and pursuit was about to begin. And she was already ready to go all out.