"You are lying!" Leng Zimo lightly huffed, "Luo Xiaoqian only arrived in Beijing this March, yet you met her at the beginning of the year."
"I must have remembered wrongly; it was in the spring, anyway, it was still cold then." The youth took off the guitar bag he was carrying and fished out a CD, "This is Luo Xiaoqian’s signed CD, which she gave to me. Everyone should know, only fans who win inside the fan club have a chance to get such a CD. I am not part of the Qianqian Army; it’s only because she gave it to me that I have it!"
Luo Xiaoqian stood up abruptly, "You’re talking nonsense, I don’t know you at all!"
"Now that you’re famous, of course you don’t know me. Haven’t you always liked to use men, whether it’s your ex-boyfriend Lu Hao or me? Once we’re no longer of use, we’re discarded." The youth said coldly.
"Xiao Qian, sit down." Leng Zimo raised his palm and spoke gently.
Making eye contact with him and seeing the emotions conveyed in his eyes, Luo Xiaoqian nodded lightly and sat back down in her chair.
"Second question, you claim that Luo Xiaoqian stole your work. How many songs are there, what are they, and how did you give them to her?" Leng Zimo continued to ask.
"There are four songs in total, including "Destined", "Chance Encounter", "No End", and that "Only You"." The youth sneered, "I gave her the manuscripts for the first three, and for ’Only You’, she wanted to create hype, so she had me record a demo and send it to Emperor View. The media raved about that ’talented fan’, but in reality, it’s just a person she made up, who doesn’t even exist."
"So, you’re saying that the demo of ’Only You’ that was couriered to Emperor View was completed solely by you?" Leng Zimo asked again.
"Yes, it was me." The youth said.
"As far as I know, that CD not only contains the song demos but also a separate recording of the drums." Leng Zimo nodded towards the drum on the stage, "I suspect you wouldn’t mind performing it for everyone!"
"This..." The youth’s tone hesitated, "The drums used there are African drums, not these kinds."
The rapid drum beats immediately emanated from the drum body.
While playing the drum, Leng Zimo started to rap along with the beats.
"People say I’ve changed, in these days I really have changed, to the point where even I feel unreasonable..."
After the drum performance finished, he abruptly stopped his hands and removed the drum from his neck.
"It’s not that you’ve forgotten, but that you never could play it, right? This piece of drumming was adapted from a ritualistic drum pattern of the indigenous people of Africa; the rhythm is extremely intricate. It took me a whole week just to practice this part. I guess you might have practiced too, only, you just couldn’t get it right!" Leng Zimo’s gaze was sharp as he stared at the youth, "I’m right, aren’t I?"

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