Huayu93: From Selling Magnetic Cards to Entertainment Tycoon

Chapter 44 Selling Songs, Jingwen Records

Before Li Si'an could even figure out what he wanted to do, his uncle called just one day later.

When the phone rang, Li Si'an was squatting at the shop entrance, munching on an old ear of corn. Tang Yun was inside wiping the shelves, with BJ Music Channel playing on the radio.

The June sun was already quite strong, making the asphalt on the road gleam white.

Chen Dong poked his head out and shouted, "Anzi, your uncle's on the phone!"

Li Si'an shoved the corn cob into Tang Yun's hand, wiped his hands on his pants, went inside, and grabbed the microphone.

"Hey, Uncle."

Zhou Weidong's voice came through the receiver, carrying a hint of barely suppressed satisfaction:

"Anzi, Wang Xiaojing called me last night. He played your two songs—'The Kite's Mistake' and 'Half a Pot of Yarn'—for Jiang Shan."

They really liked it and decided on the spot. They want you to come over tomorrow to sign the contract. I'll pick you up first thing tomorrow morning.

Li Si'an gripped the microphone, paused for two seconds, then smiled.

"real?"

"Do you think I'd lie to you? Get ready by eight o'clock tomorrow morning."

"Alright!"

After hanging up the phone, Li Si'an turned around. Tang Yun was standing behind him, still clutching the half-eaten corn on the cob, her eyes sparkling as she stared at him.

"Sold?" she asked.

Li Si'an didn't say anything, but picked her up and spun her around. Tang Yun screamed in fright, almost dropping the corn she was holding.

"Hey—what are you doing!"

"Sold!" Li Si'an put her down and gave her a big kiss on the cheek. "Both! I'll take them both!"

Tang Yun flinched back as he kissed her, her face flushed, and she rolled her eyes at him, saying, "What a jerk."

The next morning, just after seven o'clock, Li Si'an got up.

Tang Yun was still asleep in bed. After washing up, Li Si'an took out the white shirt and dark gray pants from the closet and tidied herself up in front of the mirror.

Tang Yun was awakened by his noise. She leaned against the headboard, rubbing her eyes, and looked at him groggily.

"What are you getting ready for so early in the morning?"

"Let's sign the contract today." Li Si'an glanced at her in the mirror. "How did it go? Did it work out?"

Tang Yun tilted her head and studied him for a while, then smiled: "Okay. You could wear a burlap sack over your face."

A car horn sounded downstairs. Li Si'an slipped on her shoes and hurried downstairs. As she pushed open the door, Tang Yun called out from behind, "Good luck!"

Without turning his head, Li Si'an gestured behind him, opened the car door, and got in.

Zhou Weidong glanced at him and nodded: "Hmm, not bad, you look presentable today."

"What are you saying? When have I ever acted like a non-human being?"

"You usually act like a little thug."

Li Si'an was delighted. The car started and headed towards Jianguomen. Li Si'an leaned back in her seat, looking at the street scene outside the window, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement.

After driving for about half an hour, the car turned onto a street outside Jianguomen and stopped in front of a gray office building.

Star Disc Records is on the third floor. The storefront isn't large. A young woman was sitting at the front desk. When she saw them come in, she stood up and greeted them with a smile, "Teacher Zhou is here? President Wang is waiting inside."

Zhou Weidong nodded, led Li Si'an through the corridor, and pushed open the door to the innermost office.

Wang Xiaojing was sitting behind her desk, holding a teacup. Jiang Shan sat on the sofa next to her, wearing a plain dress and also holding a cup of tea.

Seeing them come in, Wang Xiaojing put down her cup and stood up, and Jiang Shan smiled and nodded.

"You're here? Have a seat."

Li Si'an sat down with Zhou Weidong. On the table were two musical scores he had written, "The Kite's Mistake" and "Half a Pot of Yarn," marked with several lines in red pen and a few words written on them.

Wang Xiaojing leaned back in her chair, picked up her teacup, took a sip, and didn't speak immediately. After a while, she put the cup down and picked up the sheet music for "The Kite's Mistake."

"Xiao Li, I spent all night thinking about those two songs of yours yesterday."

He spread out the sheet music and pointed to the intro lines on the first page.

"That's an interesting opening. Besides the main flute melody, you also added a birdsong section, didn't you?"

"Yes." Li Si'an nodded. "I wanted that feeling of early morning, with the sound of a flute drifting from afar and birds chirping in the branches."

"That's a clever idea." Wang Xiaojing tapped her fingers on the sheet music. "You can tell just by looking at the sheet music—the flute and birdsong are combined, one is real and the other is ethereal, and that creates layers."

It's not the kind of dry, lifeless folk music prelude; it evokes vivid imagery. Just reading the score makes you feel like you're standing in a garden in Jiangnan, where the morning mist hasn't yet dissipated, and the sound of a flute drifts from afar, accompanied by birdsong.

This concept holds up well.

He put down the sheet music, leaned back in his chair, and suddenly smiled.

"But your design is good, though it will be troublesome to implement."

Li Si'an was stunned for a moment.

Wang Xiaojing pointed to the bird call marking on the score: "How are you planning to make this bird call? There's no such timbre on the synthesizer, and it might not even be in the existing sound effects library."

We've searched through all those sound effects discs in our warehouse, and we can barely find any usable bird songs. Even if we did, they might not be the sound you're looking for.

He picked up his teacup and took a sip.

"If you really want to make this birdsong sound good, you'd probably have to hire someone to record it. You'd have to take a tape recorder, go to a park or a forest, and squat there waiting for the birds to sing."

It's not just any bird call that will do—it has to match the tone of the flute, it can't be too loud or too shrill, it has to be the kind of bird call that comes in the early morning, from afar, with a bit of mist.

After recording, I still have to pick and choose, edit, and mix it with the flute.

He put down his teacup, smiled, and shook his head.

"That one bird call from you is enough to keep the sound engineer busy for weeks."

He put down the sheet music and glanced at Jiang Shan. Jiang Shan put down her teacup and leaned forward slightly.

"Si'an, I liked your lyrics for 'Puppet Show' last time. I think these two poems are even better than last time."

She picked up the lyrics page of "Half a Pot of Yarn" and pointed to a line of text, "I especially like this line—'The ink has entered the water, crossing a pool of blue and white porcelain.'"

When ink drips into water, the moment it spreads is like a blue flower blooming in the water.

This imagery is wonderful—elegant and serene. In all my years of singing, I've rarely encountered lyrics that evoke such vivid images in me.

Wang Xiaojing gathered the two scores together, aligned them, and placed them on the table. Then she looked up at Li Si'an.

"These two songs of yours are quite different from the songs currently on the market. They're not like Hong Kong and Taiwan pop songs, nor are they like mainland folk songs."

It has the foundation of folk music and the flavor of classical poetry, but the melody and arrangement are structured like pop songs. This kind of thing is almost non-existent in China now.

He picked up his teacup, took a sip, put it down, and said with a smile:

"Alright, I've said all the praise I needed to give. Let's get down to business."

He pulled two contracts out of the drawer and pushed them over.

"Two songs, 'The Kite's Mistake' and 'Half a Pot of Yarn.' Each song costs 30,000, for a total of 60,000. The copyright of the lyrics and music belongs to the company, but the right to be credited belongs to you. If you think it's acceptable, then sign it."

Li Si'an looked down at the contract. Thirty thousand yuan per poem. In 1996, thirty thousand yuan was not a small sum.

Moreover, he had previously asked his uncle, who said that in this day and age, songwriters shouldn't expect to receive any subsequent royalties; everyone deals with a one-time buyout.

He looked up at Zhou Weidong. Zhou Weidong nodded slightly.

He picked up the pen and signed his name at the end of the contract.

Wang Xiaojing took the contract back, stamped it, and handed one copy to Li Si'an. Then she stood up and extended her hand.

"Xiao Li, it's a pleasure doing business with you."

Li Si'an also stood up and grasped that hand.

"Thank you, Mr. Wang."

It was almost noon when we left Star Disc Records. The sun was blazing, making it hard to open our eyes.

Zhou Weidong opened the car door, got in, and started the car. Li Si'an leaned back in the passenger seat, clutching the contract in her hand, and remained silent.

Zhou Weidong didn't speak until the car had driven two blocks.

"What are your plans for this 60,000 yuan?"

Li Si'an folded the contract neatly and stuffed it into her bag. "I'll keep it for now; I don't need the money right now."

Zhou Weidong gripped the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, and didn't reply.

Li Si'an turned to look at him. "Uncle, what do you think about what I told you last time?"

The car was waiting at a red light at the intersection. Zhou Weidong tapped his fingers twice on the steering wheel.

"Are you really planning to do this?"

"I really intend to," Li Si'an said.

"You saw it today too, my songs can make money. Even someone like Wang Xiaojing says my songs are good. That proves I'm not just all talk. You have connections, I have songs. If we work together, we can make this happen."

The red light turned green. Zhou Weidong stepped on the gas, and the car drove forward.

After a long silence, Li Si'an assumed her uncle wasn't going to continue the conversation.

After driving for a while, Zhou Weidong finally spoke, his voice low, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

"Anzi, if you really want to make a living in this industry, your uncle can help you out."

Li Si'an turned her head to look at him.

Zhou Weidong pondered for a moment before continuing, "But we need to sit down and discuss the specifics of how to do it. This can't be rushed."

Li Si'an nodded and didn't press the matter. He knew his uncle's temperament—once he'd said something like that, it meant he'd really taken it to heart.

The car pulled up to Zhou Weidong's building. The two went upstairs. Ma Xiaoqin was busy in the kitchen; she poked her head out to greet them, then quickly retreated back inside. Zhou Yu wasn't home; he'd probably gone to a classmate's.

Zhou Weidong took off his coat and draped it over the back of his chair. He pulled out a cigarette case from under the coffee table, lit one, and took a puff. Li Si'an sat down opposite him and waited.

"You want to start your own company and promote yourself, that's a good idea," Zhou Weidong said slowly, flicking his cigarette ash.

"But there's something I need to tell you upfront—this album of yours can't be produced by our own company."

Li Si'an frowned. "Why?"

"Not enough money." Zhou Weidong put a cigarette in his mouth and counted on his fingers, "Recording, master tape, pressing, printing covers, distribution, advertising - which one doesn't cost money?"

"Making an album, from its initial release to its nationwide distribution, would easily cost hundreds of thousands. Our current capital wouldn't even be enough to cover that."

He paused, took the cigarette out of his mouth, and looked at Li Si'an.

"So we need to find someone to cooperate with. We need to find a record company with distribution channels and promotional resources, and use their resources to go global."

Li Si'an leaned back on the sofa and thought for a moment. "Then... should I look for Wang Xiaojing?"

Zhou Weidong shook his head.

"Wang Xiaojing is a great friend. He's generous, open-minded, and not stingy. You'll feel comfortable drinking and chatting with him."

He flicked the ash from his cigarette. "But doing business with him—it won't work. He's a bit muddle-headed when it comes to money, and he's not good at keeping accounts."

And to be honest, he doesn't put much effort into the record industry anymore. Star Disc's enthusiasm for releasing records has waned significantly in the last two years.

Li Si'an thought for a moment and nodded. He didn't ask any further questions.

My uncle has been in this industry for so many years, he knows everyone's ways and what their methods are.

"So, who are you planning to contact?"

Zhou Weidong stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and leaned back into the sofa.

"Jingwen Records, Xu Zhongming".

Li Si'an was stunned for a moment. He had vaguely heard this name in his previous life, but he couldn't remember it clearly.

"Xu Zhongming?"

Zhou Weidong glanced at him.

"If we produce the album and Xu Zhongming is willing to take it on, I estimate that it will sell over a million copies nationwide, which shouldn't be a problem."

Li Si'an leaned back on the sofa without saying a word.

More than a million copies. In 1996, very few legitimate albums could sell that many copies.

He stared at the extinguished cigarette on the coffee table, his mind racing, and finally couldn't help but look up and ask:

"Uncle, who exactly is this Xu Zhongming? How can he have such power?"