1991: The Era of Hong Kong Dramas

Which company?

"New Artbo".

It's true what they say, what you fear most is what happens.

Huo Sheng's heart sank, but he didn't show it on his face. He asked with a smile, "Did it sell?"

"no."

Manager Chen flipped through the documents on the table. "You've come at just the right time. They've only made a brief phone call to inquire first, and they'll probably come to discuss things in the next couple of days."

He paused, then added, "If you want to take it, you'd better hurry, because here it's first come, first served."

Huo Sheng breathed a sigh of relief and asked:

"How do I take it?"

Manager Chen opened a document and pushed it over: "There are two ways. One is prepayment plus revenue sharing, which means you pay a prepayment of 20,000, and then we will split the royalties generated by this song in Hong Kong at a 30/70 split, you get 70% and we get 30%."

"What about the other one?"

"A one-time buyout. HK$80,000 for five years of exclusive adaptation rights in Hong Kong. After that, every penny earned by this song in Hong Kong will be yours to keep, no matter what."

This is self-evident; the initial price difference of 60,000 yuan is negligible compared to future profits.

"I choose to buy out the shares."

Huo Sheng said directly, "Eighty thousand, I can give it to you today."

Manager Chen was taken aback: "You're not going to haggle?"

"unnecessary."

Huo Sheng smiled and said, "But I have one condition: the contract must state that I own all the copyrights to this Cantonese adaptation."

Manager Chen frowned: "The copyright of adapted lyrics belongs to the lyricist in principle, and it has nothing to do with whether you buy the adaptation rights or not."

"I know."

Huo Sheng said, "What I mean is that as the authorized party, I have the right to find someone to write the lyrics myself, and the right to use these lyrics belongs to me."

In the future, I will resell the songs to record companies, selling them along with the lyrics, without going through you.

Manager Chen stared at him for a few seconds.

He had met many people who bought adaptation rights, but this was the first time he had seen someone who had broken down the lyrics and music and thought so clearly about how to resell them.

This young man doesn't seem like someone who's here to buy songs for a TV series; he seems more like a shrewd copyright dealer.

But that's none of his business.

Manager Chen thought for a while, then picked up the phone, dialed a number, and said a few words in Japanese.

Huo Sheng couldn't understand, so he could only sit and wait.

Manager Chen hung up the phone and sighed, "Okay. But there's one condition: the original composer Miyuki Nakajima's credit must be preserved, and it cannot be altered. Also, the adapted lyrics cannot distort the original song's theme."

"no problem."

The deal was done, and the contract was printed out—a thick stack of English clauses.

Huo Sheng's English was decent, so he read through the reports one by one. Although he wasn't a law student, he couldn't be careless at a time like this.

Eighty thousand dollars was no small sum; it was his first pot of gold in Hong Kong.

Manager Chen didn't urge him, and sat across from him drinking tea.

After a while, Huo Sheng put down the contract, looked up, and said, "Okay, let's do it this way."

Manager Chen glanced at him, said nothing, opened the contract, and pointed to one line:

"The authorization period is five years, exclusive to Hong Kong. During these five years, any Hong Kong company that wants to use the Cantonese version of this song must obtain your authorization. This includes writing lyrics, recording records, releasing, public performances, KTV streaming, and film and television soundtracks, all of which are included."

You pay 80,000 in one lump sum, and you don't need to pay us a single penny more.

Huo Sheng nodded and then confirmed the copyright terms for the adapted lyrics.

Manager Chen added a line of small print next to it, writing down the conditions that had just been confirmed over the phone.

Huo Sheng signed the last page, took out eight stacks of 1,000-yuan bills and one stack of 10,000-yuan bills from his bag, and arranged them neatly on the table.

Manager Chen checked the documents, locked them in the safe, and handed him a copy of the contract.

"It's a pleasure working with you."

Huo Sheng shook his hand, put the contract in his pocket, and walked out of the building.

The sunlight was blinding, so he squinted.

HK$80,000 is not a small amount these days, but it's worth it to get the exclusive five-year adaptation rights to "Easily Hurt Woman" in Hong Kong.

Moreover, he still holds the copyright to the adapted lyrics. When he sells it to Cinepoly Records in the future, he can ask for more terms by selling both the lyrics and the music together. He has the initiative.

As for Cinepoly, it doesn't matter, since he's not the one in a hurry.

……

18 Canton Road, Tsim Sha Tsui.

Two banyan trees guard this gray office building, sandwiched between a jewelry store and a watch shop. A bronze plaque hangs at the entrance, engraved with "Cinepoly Records".

Early in the morning, Leung Wing-Chun drove his Bluebird to work. He had just returned from studying in the United States a few years ago and was the youngest record producer at Cinepoly Records.

Good morning, Mr. Liang!

Good morning!

Leung Wing-Chun went up to the fifteenth floor and sat in his office. Cinepoly Records didn't have many people; the production, publicity, and distribution departments combined had fewer than forty people.

He has very few artists under his management, only Beyond and a few minor stars. In theory, he should have plenty of time to produce albums, but he lives a very stressful life every day.

The main reason is that there is a newcomer who has just returned from the United States, and her manager is arranging to make a unique album for her.

This newcomer's name is Wang Jingwen.

Speaking of which, her experiences in the past two years have been quite tortuous. In 91, her record contract was transferred from Cinepoly Records to Lo Ta-yu's "Music Factory" and she went to the United States for further studies.

Later, due to ideological differences with Lo Ta-yu, he terminated his contract at the beginning of this year. Through the introduction of his mentor Dai Sicong, he signed a management contract with Chan Ka-ying, and his record contract returned to Cinepoly Records.

Chan Ka-ying, this woman, used to manage Danny Chan, and she is very shrewd and capable.

The first thing I did after securing the management contract was to have Faye Wong change her English name from Shirley to Faye, because it sounded better.

The second thing was to ask Cinepoly Records to create an album that showcased her unique singer style.

She cared a lot about Faye Wong and would call her every few days to urge her to write a song.

Liang Rongjun rummaged through the company's music library and listened to each song one by one, filtering them one by one. In the end, he listened to no less than a dozen songs and finally picked out four or five that he thought were okay, but not particularly satisfactory.

There's a severe shortage of local songwriting resources; there aren't many good songs.

With no other option, he turned his attention to Europe, America, and Japan, compiling a list of copyrights, including a Japanese fax from Jiayin Records.

"Miyuki Nakajima..."

Leung Wing-Chun flipped through the fax, paused to take a closer look, and of course he knew the name. Many of her songs had been covered in the Hong Kong music scene, and almost every cover became a hit.

He squinted, pulled out the page, and looked at it closely. He traced the list down with his finger, skipping over the famous names at the top, until his gaze fell on the very bottom.

"ルージュ".

"Sigh, it's a song from 1977, I wonder how it is."

He placed the fax paper on the table, reached for the earphones, and pressed the play button.

The melody flowed from the headphones, unhurried and gentle, like someone whispering in your ear. It wasn't the kind of tune that was instantly catchy, but it was easy to listen to, more like a fine aged wine, with a powerful aftertaste.

It's acceptable.

He came to this conclusion, pulled out the fax and put it aside, thinking he would deal with it later. He also had other singers working on their albums, so he put it aside again.

That's how it got put off until now.

He just pulled out that fax again, put on his headphones, and listened to Miyuki Nakajima's original version over and over again.

He thought it was alright the first time he heard it, and he felt it had some charm the second time. When he heard it for the third time, he leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers lightly on the armrest twice.

I absolutely have to get this song.

He picked up the phone, found the number on the fax machine, and dialed Jiayin Records.

"Hello, I am Leung Wing-Chun from Cinepoly."

I'd like to ask, is the copyright still valid for Miyuki Nakajima's song "Luju"?

There was a pause on the other end of the phone.

"Mr. Liang, this song has already been sold."

Liang Rongjun was taken aback: "Sold? Who bought it?"

"A TVB screenwriter, surnamed Fok, said he wrote the theme song for Wai Ka-fai's new drama."

Liang Rongjun didn't reply, but adjusted his glasses.

The screenwriter bought the song? Something doesn't sound right.

"So they signed it?"

"It's signed. It was just signed yesterday. It's a five-year exclusive deal for Hong Kong."

Liang Rongjun was silent for a moment, then asked again, "Did that person say they wanted to resell it?"

Manager Chen smiled and said, "I don't know about that; you'll have to ask him yourself."

After hanging up the phone, Liang Rongjun stared at the fax paper for a long time.

The circle I drew last month is still there, but the ballpoint pen marks have faded a bit. If we had decided on it earlier, this song would have been Cinepoly's.

The feeling of having something you could have had but missing out is incredibly frustrating.

He thought for a moment, then pulled out the page, folded it, and put it in his suit's inner pocket.

"Ah Liang, where are you going?"

My colleague next door poked his head out and asked a question.

"Go out for a bit."

Liang Rongjun grabbed the keys from the table and left without looking back.