Courtyard House: Drunk and tipsy, the whole courtyard exposed at the start.

"but--"

Zhang Dabiao changed the subject.

They arrived as expected.

Director Wu perked up and started listening intently.

Zhang Dabiao stood up, put his hands behind his back, and paced a few steps under the grape trellis. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting shadows on his face, like the thoughts racing through his mind.

"Director Wu, you can find your own singers to perform the film version of 'Heroic Anthem,' and you can adapt it however you like. After all, movies have their own needs, and actors have their own image requirements. We completely understand that."

Director Wu nodded repeatedly.

"But I have an idea—" Zhang Dabiao turned around, his gaze sweeping over Director Wu, then at Mu Wanqing, before finally settling on the enamel cup on the stone table.

"Don't movies have an end credits?"

Director Wu was taken aback: "Yes, when the cast and crew list was released."

"Have you got the ending theme song yet?"

Director Wu shook his head: "It's not decided yet. Usually, we just play the theme song again."

Zhang Dabiao's lips curled up slightly—that smile was all too familiar to Mu Wanqing and Qin Jingru. Every time he showed that smile, it meant he was plotting something again.

Zhang Dabiao: "I can contact the Music Performance Department of the Beijing Art Academy to produce a choral version of 'Ode to Heroes'."

Director Wu leaned forward slightly, his expression changing from confusion to attentive listening.

Zhang Dabiao continued, "In the chorus version, the actors' faces are not shown; the end credits are displayed on screen. As for the sound—multiple voices, layered and powerful, are more suitable for the ending than a solo. The beginning features a female lead, followed by a large chorus, like a great river flowing, becoming wider and more magnificent."

He gestured with his hands in the air, forming an arc that gradually widened and expanded.

"When the audience finishes watching the movie, their emotions are at their peak. At this moment, a chorus version comes to the rescue, just like—" He thought of an analogy, "like the last movement of a symphony, bringing all the emotions to a close, and then on the highest note—bang, it's over."

Director Wu's pupils slowly dilated. He seemed to truly hear the chorus version of the song, dozens of professionally trained young voices, led by a female voice, rising gradually from a low pitch until they converged into a torrent, impacting the eardrums and hearts of every audience member.

"This..." he murmured, "This is good."

Two versions! The film version's incidental music fulfills the narrative needs, while the chorus version's end credits song provides an emotional conclusion. Moreover, the chorus version doesn't steal the show; its placement at the end actually gives the audience a lingering, resonant feeling. This guy—no, this comrade—not only can he paint and write songs, he also understands film!

The feeling is like groping your way out in a dark room, and suddenly someone turns on the light with a "snap".

"Wanqing must be the lead singer," Zhang Dabiao added, his tone casual but not negotiable. "The other singers can be arranged by the school. The end credits will state: Chorus Version, Department of Music Performance, Beijing Art Academy, Lead Singer: Mu Wanqing, Original Singer: Mu Wanqing, Lyrics and Music: Zhang Dabiao."

Mu Wanqing suddenly raised her head.

Her eyes immediately welled up with tears.

Director Wu's "well-intentioned veto" was like a bucket of cold water poured over her head, while Zhang Dabiao's words were like someone lighting a fire in the cold water—not a fierce fire, but a warm, stable fire that made her feel "with him around, there's nothing to fear."

She didn't speak, but her lips were pressed tightly together, and tears welled up in her eyes, but she stubbornly refused to let them fall.

Qin Jingru peeked halfway out from the kitchen doorway, saw Mu Wanqing's reddened eyes, and then saw Zhang Dabiao's "I've got your back" expression, before silently shrinking back inside.

Director Wu sat up straight on the stone bench, his eyes shining like two lamps.

He turned to look at his colleagues; without a word, they all nodded.

"Comrade Zhang Dabiao," Director Wu slapped his thigh and stood up, "your plan is brilliant!"

He reached out and gripped Zhang Dabiao's hand tightly—this handshake was more than ten times warmer than when they first met.

"Not a loss! Not only not a loss, it's a huge win!" Director Wu's speech quickened noticeably, his passion as an artist fully ignited. "We'll produce the theme songs for the film version ourselves to ensure the narrative rhythm; the choral version of the end credits song will be done by your art academy—this is equivalent to one film, two versions of 'Heroic Hymn,' each with its own merits, complementing each other perfectly!"

Director Wu became increasingly excited as he spoke, his mind already picturing the end credits—the black and white credits slowly scrolling upwards, a chorus of "Heroes' Hymn" playing in the background, dozens of young voices rising from below like a surging undercurrent, then exploding with a deafening roar at the highest point—

He got goosebumps all over his body.

"Where's the contract? Did you bring the contract?" Director Wu asked anxiously to his entourage.

A young man wearing glasses quickly took out a blank contract and a pen from his bag and spread them out on the stone table.

Zhang Dabiao quickly glanced at the contract. "For the authorization fee, write one yuan."

"no problem."

"The format for the end credits should follow what I just described. Original singer, lyricist, composer, chorus, lead singer—not a single one can be omitted."

"no problem!"

Zhang Dabiao nodded in satisfaction, picked up his pen, and quickly signed his name.

Then he handed the pen to Mu Wanqing.

Mu Wanqing's hand trembled slightly as she took the pen. She looked at Zhang Dabiao's flamboyant signature on the contract and took a deep breath. Then she bent down and wrote the three characters "Mu Wanqing" stroke by stroke—she wrote very slowly and carefully, as if she were carving a monument.

After signing her name, Mu Wanqing straightened up and gently exhaled.

She looked at Zhang Dabiao, her lips moved, but in the end she only said one sentence—

"Da Biao, thank you."

The voice was very soft, but everyone present heard it.

A bunch of unripe green grapes swayed gently in the breeze on the grape trellis, as if nodding. The aroma of meat broth wafting from the kitchen grew stronger, mingling with the satisfaction of signing the contract, making life feel exceptionally fulfilling. Outside the courtyard, the three old men had long since stopped playing chess—they had been listening intently for a long time, but through the courtyard wall, they could only catch a few scattered words, making them anxiously scratch their heads.

After the contract was signed, Director Wu was completely satisfied.

He took an exquisitely packaged gift box from his entourage and handed it to Zhang Dabiao with both hands: "A small gift, ginseng from Changbai Mountain, nothing special."

Zhang Dabiao didn't stand on ceremony. He took the chicken, weighed it in his hand, and casually handed it to Qin Jingru next to him: "Keep this, I'll stew it with chicken later."

Qin Jingru's eyes lit up, and she hugged the gift box tightly with both hands: "Great, Brother Da Biao!"

Director Wu shook hands with Mu Wanqing again and said sincerely, "Comrade Mu Wanqing, I'm entrusting the choral version to you and your school. Our post-production will take about two or three more months, which should be enough time before National Day. We'll send someone to coordinate the recording then."

This is settled!