Huayu: A master director who debuted as a singer

Chapter 114 "Me"

Zheng Hui glanced in the direction of the banquet hall. It was already past 10 p.m., and the noisiest part of the evening had passed.

Many second- and third-tier singers who were just there to make a brief appearance and get some recognition, as well as some peripheral partners, have gradually said goodbye and left.

The champagne tower, which was originally packed with people, is now only occupied by a few scattered individuals talking in hushed tones.

The roast suckling pig in the center of the stage, symbolizing good fortune, had long been cut into pieces, leaving only a shriveled skeleton and a few pieces of cold, untouched meat.

Zheng Hui turned around, looked at Richie Jen who was covered in sweat, and couldn't help but laugh.

"Brother Qi, I think you're really hungry."

Zheng Hui pointed outside: "But you've come at the wrong time. The roast suckling pig outside is probably all gone. It's been cut for so long, the oil has solidified by now, and it won't taste good when it's cold."

"If you really want to eat well, come on! Since we're in Hong Kong, what's the point of this kind of cold buffet in a hotel? I'll take you to get hot pot!"

When Richie Jen heard the words "hot pot," his eyes immediately lit up and his Adam's apple bobbed.

"Hot pot is great! Serinmu, you don't know, the crew has been eating cold roast meat rice every day, my stomach is really craving some hot soup! Let's go, let's go right now!"

Zheng Hui smiled and turned to look at Zheng Donghan sitting on the sofa.

"Mr. Zheng, the celebration banquet is almost over. All that's left are some wrap-up socializing. With President Chen and the others keeping an eye on things outside, nothing will go wrong. How about we go get some hot pot for a late-night snack?" Zheng Hui extended an invitation.

Zheng Donghan waved his hand: "This is a young people's game, I, an old man, will not get involved."

"Those old foxes from Taiwan got me drunk a lot tonight, and now I'm exhausted, my stomach is churning, and all I want to do is go home, take a hot bath, and lie down."

He paused, then added, "However, since you're going, and it's so late at night, and there are so many paparazzi in Hong Kong, if you all get together and go to one of those street food stalls, tomorrow's headlines will probably be 'The Rolling Stones' star drinking contest on the street.'"

Zheng Donghan took out his phone from his pocket and dialed the driver's number.

"I'll have my personal driver take you there. He knows a few restaurants in Kowloon City that offer excellent privacy and top-quality, fresh ingredients."

Zheng Hui didn't insist. Zheng Donghan had indeed drunk quite a bit tonight. In this kind of setting, with the boss present, everyone felt more restrained.

"Okay, thank you, Mr. Zheng."

Zheng Hui turned his head and looked at Leslie Cheung sitting next to him, and Cecilia Cheung who had been obediently playing the role of a background figure.

"Brother, Cecilia, if you're not in a rush to go back and rest, why don't you come along? It's more fun to have hot pot with more people!"

Cecilia Cheung was already getting restless when Richie Jen burst in, and now, upon hearing Zheng Hui's invitation, she immediately nodded repeatedly like a chick pecking at rice: "Great! Great! I just finished filming all day and haven't even had a proper dinner yet. Let's go for a late-night snack!"

Leslie Cheung glanced at the enthusiastic Richie Jen, then at Zheng Hui: "Great! I'm a little hungry too, the more the merrier."

Half an hour later.

The vehicle was parked in a relatively quiet alley in Kowloon City.

The driver got out of the car and walked to a shop without even a prominent sign. He spoke a few words in hushed tones to the shop owner who came out to greet him.

Then, the boss walked over with a big smile and personally opened the door of the nanny van.

"Mr. Zhang! Mr. Zheng! Rare guests! Please come inside."

The boss was clearly a man of the world. When he saw Leslie Cheung, Zheng Hui, and Richie Jen appear together, although his eyes flashed with surprise, he did not lose his composure like an ordinary fan. He led them up to the second floor via a private staircase on the side.

The private room was large, decorated in an antique style, with several ink paintings hanging on the walls and a sliding window inside.

-

"Boss, open the windows to let in some fresh air. It won't be so stuffy tonight," Zheng Hui instructed.

"Alright!" The boss opened the window, and the night breeze immediately rushed in, sweeping away the somewhat stuffy air in the private room.

Before long, a small red clay stove was brought out, burning with the finest smokeless charcoal.

A clay pot sits on the stove, filled with beef bone broth, with a few pieces of corn and white radish bubbling in the bottom.

Immediately afterwards, plates of ingredients were served one after another.

Snowflake beef, fresh prawns, fish slices, geoduck slices, and various handmade meatballs.

The four people sat down around the stove.

When Richie Jen saw the plate of beef, his eyes lit up. He couldn't wait to pick up his chopsticks, grab a large piece of meat, and stuff it into the boiling pot.

Wow! This meat looks delicious!

Leslie Cheung couldn't help but chuckle as he watched Richie Jen wolf down his food. He picked up a hot towel to wipe his hands, poured himself a cup of warm tea, and then looked at Zheng Hui.

"Ah Hui, I was just about to ask you this. You and Xiao Qi—one of you works in mainland China and Hong Kong, and the other is a Taiwanese upstart. You two are thousands of miles apart, and you don't seem to be in the same circle at all. How come you're so close?" Leslie Cheung's eyes were filled with curiosity.

Upon hearing this, Richie Jen, who was stuffing beef into his mouth, immediately slowed down his chewing and mumbled, "Brother, you wouldn't believe it, Ah-hui and I are friends who've been through thick and thin together!"

"Oh? How exactly did you go through this hardship?" Leslie Cheung asked.

Cecilia Cheung also held a glass of juice, looking at them with a gossipy expression.

Zheng Hui used a slotted spoon to scoop up a few shrimp and placed them on Leslie Cheung and Cecilia Cheung's plates respectively. He explained with a smile, "Actually, it's nothing. It's just that at the end of last year, we were both in Beijing participating in CCTV's Spring Festival Gala rehearsals. At that time, we were unfamiliar with Beijing and had to face round after round of program reviews. The pressure was immense."

"It's more than just big!" Richie Jen swallowed the meat in his mouth and took a big gulp of ice-cold beer: "It's practically pushing people to their deaths! My song 'The Girl Across the Way' was almost rejected by the production team halfway through!"

I was all ready to pack up and go back to Taiwan when Ah Hui grabbed me and pulled me back, snatching my wine glass from the store and telling me to wait for their call.

Richie Jen recalled his days in Beijing, a look of emotion flashing in his eyes.

"Back then, we spent every day in Beijing. When we had nothing to do, Ahui would take me for a stroll all over the city."

We went to Qianmen to eat at Baodu Feng's, went to Gulou to drink fried liver, and even wandered aimlessly on the ice of Houhai Lake. For those few months, we ate our way through every hutong (alleyway) in Beijing, big and small, and had a wonderful time!

"So that's how it is. No wonder you two started speaking your hometown dialect as soon as you met."

2

Leslie Cheung said with a smile, "In the entertainment industry, it's truly rare to have a friendship like this, where we used to eat at roadside stalls together."

Cecilia Cheung listened with great interest: "Brother Hui, you can speak Hokkien? I didn't know that."

"My parents are from Fujian, and they've spoken that language at home since I was little. Xiao Qi grew up in Taiwan, so his accent is a little different, but I can understand him basically," Zheng Hui replied casually.

The group ate and chatted about all sorts of things. The fire was burning brightly, and the broth in the pot was bubbling away. With the night breeze blowing in from the window, the atmosphere was indescribably pleasant and relaxing.

After some casual conversation, Richie Jen ate about half his fill and finally turned his attention back to business.

He wiped the red grease from his lips with a tissue, looked at Zheng Hui, and asked suspiciously, "By the way, Hui, I was just about to ask you this at the Peninsula Hotel. Why are you suddenly having a celebration party in Hong Kong? What's going on? Did you release a new song?"

Because he was tormented by both the "Wish Upon a Star" film crew and concert rehearsals during this period, Richie Jen was completely isolated from the world and knew nothing about the news from the outside world.

Before Zheng Hui could speak, Leslie Cheung, sitting opposite him, had already put down his chopsticks and answered for Zheng Hui: "Xiao Qi, you've really been oblivious to what's going on around you lately."

Ah Hui didn't just release a new song; he released a brand new Mandarin album called "Half a Lifetime."

"A new album? So soon?!"

Richie Jen remembers that Zheng Hui's second album, "Floating Life," was only released at the end of last year. Less than half a year has passed, and he has already released a new album.

"How are the sales?" Richie Jen subconsciously asked the question that the singer cared about most.

Leslie Cheung held up two fingers: "Only two days after its release."

Then he made a gesture: "Total sales across Asia: 840,000 copies."

Richie Jen stared at Leslie Cheung in disbelief, then abruptly turned to Zheng Hui, his voice trembling with shock: "How many?! Eight hundred and forty thousand tickets?! In just two days?!"

Is this guy even human?!

Richie Jen himself became famous throughout China with his album "Too Softhearted," so he knows all too well what the record market in mainland China, Taiwan, and Hong Kong is like.

His album "Too Softhearted," which is considered a masterpiece, sold millions of copies in the end, but that was the result of several years of sales accumulation.

Did it sell 840,000 copies in the first two days?

What does this mean? It means that the doorsteps of countless record stores across Asia have been worn down, and that the pressing machines in factories are on fire!

"Holy crap—" Richie Jen looked at Zheng Hui as if he were a monster: "What kind of song did you write? How can it be so amazing? Did you invite a deity to descend to earth and perform a ritual for you?"

Seeing Richie Jen's expression, Leslie Cheung also found it quite amusing.

"I also find it amazing."

Leslie Cheung laughed and joked, "Xiao Qi, it's such a pity you didn't hear that."

Ah Hui, since you're here and Xiao Qi hasn't heard of it before, why don't you sing a few lines a cappella and show Xiao Qi what it's like?

"Yes, yes, yes! Sing a few lines! Right now! Immediately!" Richie Jen nodded repeatedly, even putting down his chopsticks, looking like he was all ears.

Cecilia Cheung chimed in, "Brother Hui, sing it! I want to hear 'Sorrow'!"

Seeing the expectant looks in the eyes of the three people, Zheng Hui smiled helplessly.

After thinking about it, he didn't choose "Sorrow" but instead chose another song that would resonate more with people in the industry.

Zheng Hui picked up the chopsticks in front of him and tapped them lightly on his teacup twice to find the right rhythm.

"Ding, ding—"

The private room fell silent.

Zheng Hui deliberately lowered his voice, conveying a sense of calm that comes from having experienced the vicissitudes of life.

"Someone as outstanding as me—"

"He should have lived a brilliant life—"

"How come after more than twenty years—"

Still adrift in the sea of ​​people—

Upon hearing just these four sentences, Richie Jen, who had been full of curiosity and excitement, froze, staring blankly at Zheng Hui.

"People like me who are lost and confused—"

"People like me who are searching—"

"Someone as mediocre as me—"

How many other people have you met?

Zheng Hui's singing is the purest expression of emotion. But in this quiet environment, against the backdrop of the small red clay stove, these lyrics resonated deeply with Richie Jen.

Richie Jen's eyes unconsciously reddened.

Although he is now incredibly famous, before "Too Softhearted," he spent countless dark and hopeless days and nights.

He studied physical education, played in a band, but nobody paid him any attention. He was tricked into signing with a shell record company, which later went bankrupt and was acquired by Rolling Stone Records. At Rolling Stone, he was marginalized and was even on the verge of being laid off several times.

Back then, he thought he was a genius and that he could live a brilliant life, but reality repeatedly woke him up with cold water.

Back then, wasn't he just someone drifting aimlessly in the sea of ​​people, accomplishing nothing?

"Someone as inexplicable as me—"

"Will anyone feel sorry for me?"

When Zheng Hui finished singing the last line and gently put down his chopsticks, the private room fell into dead silence.

Only the sound of the hot pot boiling continued.

After a while, Richie Jen picked up the whole glass of beer in front of him, tilted his head back, and drank it all in one gulp.

With a loud bang, he slammed the wine glass down on the table.

"Damn it—" Richie Jen's eyes glistened with tears as he swore, "Ah Hui, this song of yours, this isn't singing, this is murder! Just this one song, selling 800,000 copies in two days, I'm impressed, completely impressed."

Leslie Cheung also sighed softly, picked up his teacup and took a sip: "So, Ah Fai's head is filled with more things than ours, these old guys."

As they chatted, several bottles of wine on the table gradually emptied.

Leslie Cheung was in high spirits tonight and drank several more glasses of ice-cold beer.

The alcohol was slightly intoxicating, causing his cheeks to flush and his eyes to become brighter and more lively than usual.

He lit a cigarette, held it between his fingers, took a deep drag, and exhaled a wisp of smoke.

Amidst the swirling smoke, Leslie Cheung looked at Zheng Hui through the thin mist.

"Ah Hui, I'm a straightforward person. I just asked you about making a demo album in four days, and although you gave me an answer."

Leslie Cheung flicked his cigarette ash: "Four days, eleven masterpieces of this caliber. Even if you were sitting in front of me right now, I would still think it's like listening to a fairy tale."

Richie Jen nodded vigorously in agreement: "Exactly! When I was at Rock Records, it sometimes took Brother Jonathan Lee half a year to come up with a single song. Eleven songs in four days! Is your brain a computer?"

Leslie Cheung looked at Zheng Hui and suddenly had a brilliant idea: "Ah Hui, since you have such good inspiration—" Leslie Cheung stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray: "Recently, a melody has been lingering in my mind."

I composed a piece based on this melody, and it's almost finished.

Leslie Cheung stared at Zheng Hui, as if issuing a challenge, or as if seeking a kindred spirit: "It's better to meet by chance than to invite someone. The atmosphere is so good tonight."

Would you like to hear this piece I composed right now and try writing lyrics for it?

Upon hearing this suggestion, Cecilia Cheung covered her mouth in surprise, while Richie Jen excitedly cheered.

"Great idea! Brother poses the question, Ah-hui takes the challenge! If word gets out, this will definitely be a legendary story in the music industry!"

Richie Jen stood up and looked around: "But there isn't even a piece of paper in this private room, how are we supposed to write? You guys wait here, I'll go find the boss and get some paper and pen!"

After saying that, Richie Jen opened the door to the private room and rushed out.

Zheng Hui looked into Leslie Cheung's eyes and did not back down; instead, curiosity arose in his heart.

Did Leslie Cheung write the music himself in 1999? Couldn't he find satisfactory lyrics?

"Since you're interested, brother, I'm certainly willing to give it a try. But before you write the lyrics, you should at least hum the melody for me to hear first, right?" Zheng Hui smiled and gestured for him to proceed.

Leslie Cheung nodded, closed his eyes, and tapped his fingers lightly on the table, searching for a tune.

Then, a melody slowly hummed from Leslie Cheung's throat.

"Ugh—hmm—humph—"

There are no lyrics, only simple musical notes.

But as soon as the melody of the first verse played in the private room, Zheng Hui recognized it instantly and matched it with a song from his previous life!

"I"!

The song "I," composed by Leslie Cheung and with lyrics by Lin Xi, is considered the most authentic portrayal of Leslie Cheung's life and was the closing song he always sang at every concert afterward!

It turns out that the melody of this song had already taken shape in Leslie Cheung's mind back in 1999!

Before long, the melody was almost finished when the door to the private room was pushed open.

Richie Jen burst in, holding a notebook with an order form and a ballpoint pen.

"Here it comes! The paper and pen are here! The boss said this is all we have, so we'll have to make do!" He slapped the notebook and pen in front of Zheng Hui.

Leslie Cheung also stopped humming, opened his eyes, and looked at Zheng Hui.

"Ahui, did you hear the melody clearly? What did you feel?"

Zheng Hui picked up the ballpoint pen and twirled it between his fingers.

He looked at Leslie Cheung, but instead of writing down his thoughts, he asked, "The melody is beautiful and unique. But, brother, you can't just write lyrics without a clear purpose."

When you wrote this piece, what emotion were you trying to express? Or rather, what core message did you want to use as the basis for the lyrics?

Upon hearing this question, Leslie Cheung's smile gradually faded.

Instead of answering Zheng Hui directly, he suddenly asked a completely unrelated question.

"Ahui, do you watch a lot of movies? Have you seen a French film called *La Cageau*?"

Folles?

Upon hearing the name, Cecilia Cheung looked blank, and Richie Jen also scratched his head, indicating that he had never heard of it.

But Zheng Hui's mind quickly conjured up this movie.

"I've seen it." Zheng Hui looked at Leslie Cheung, his tone becoming very solemn: "A great movie, about courage, about truth."

Upon hearing that Zheng Hui had actually read it and given such a review, Leslie Cheung's eyes lit up instantly.

"Since you've seen it, you must remember the most classic line in it."

I am what I am.

""

(I am who I am)

When those English words came out of Leslie Cheung's mouth, Zheng Hui looked at Leslie Cheung in front of him.

At this time, Leslie Cheung was going through a sensitive period.

Hong Kong paparazzi are watching him like leeches, trying to dig out enough scandals to destroy him.

Under such pressure, he composed this piece. He wanted to use it to declare his stance to the world.

I am what I am.

Zheng Hui completely understood what Leslie Cheung wanted to say: he didn't need worldly approval, he didn't need hypocritical pretense, and he didn't need to compromise himself in the eyes of others.

"I see."

Zheng Hui lowered his head, looking at the menu in front of him, and pressed the ballpoint pen in his hand onto the paper.

"Be yourself, right?"

Iamwhatlam

I am who I am.

Zheng Hui quickly sketched out the approximate melody of the song that Leslie Cheung had just hummed on a piece of paper.

Zheng Hui hummed the tune he had just heard, and his pen began to move across the paper.

"amwhatIam——" He wrote this sentence in English on the first line.

Then, he paused for a moment, and wrote the first Chinese sentence below the English.

"I am me—how special I am—"

As Zheng Hui wrote, he deliberately scribbled over, crossed out, and rewrote certain words to match the process of writing lyrics on the spot.

Leslie Cheung sat opposite Zheng Hui, watching his focused expression and listening to the occasional snippets of conversation he uttered, his hands unconsciously clenching tightly on his knees.

Time passed by, second by second.

Ten minutes to fifteen minutes.

The broth in the hot pot has already reduced by more than half.

Finally, Zheng Hui put down his pen.

He picked up the order form, which was covered in scribbles and even had some messy handwriting, and handed it to Leslie Cheung.

"Brother, look at this, does this phrase match your 'I am what I am'?"

Leslie Cheung reached out and took the paper, his gaze falling on its surface.

After glancing at the first verse, Leslie Cheung found himself unconsciously humming along to the lyrics on the paper, softly using the melody he had just written.

I am what I am——

"I will always love myself just the way I am—"

Leslie Cheung's voice trembled slightly.

"Happiness is—there's more than one way to be happy—"

"The greatest honor is that everyone is a glory of the Creator."

Leslie Cheung's breathing became rapid. He then looked at the chorus and sang it out: "No need to hide, live the life I love!"

"No need for makeup, just stand in the light!"

"I am who I am."

Leslie Cheung raised his head, his eyes now brimming with tears. He looked at Zheng Hui as if he were looking at a confidant who understood all the secrets of his soul.

He lowered his head and continued singing the rest of the lyrics: "Fireworks of a different color!"

"The sky is vast and the sea is wide; be the strongest bubble—"

"I like myself, and I let the roses bloom to a certain result—"

"In the lonely desert—the nakedness blooms just as brightly—"

The song ended.

Richie Jen's mouth was agape, and goosebumps rose all over his body. Although he couldn't fully comprehend Leslie Cheung's struggle, he could understand the aloofness and beauty in the lyrics.

Cecilia Cheung was so moved by the song's imagery that she was speechless.

"Clatter".

A tear slid down Leslie Cheung's cheek. The amplified emotions from drinking, coupled with the lyrics that perfectly captured his innermost feelings, caused this superstar, who was always elegant and composed in public, to break down.

"Ah Hui————"

Leslie Cheung raised his hand and gently wiped away his tears with his fingers, but his eyes were shining as he looked at Zheng Hui.

"A different kind of fireworks—"

"Thank you." Leslie Cheung looked at Zheng Hui with relief and gratitude.

Zheng Hui felt a mix of emotions as he looked at Leslie Cheung, who was shedding tears.

He raised the teacup in front of him and gave Leslie Cheung a slight toast: "Brother, you don't need to thank me."

This song was meant for you. In this world, no one can truly define you.

"You just need to be that rose, blooming nakedly in the lonely desert."