Returning to Taiwan in 2000 as a patriotic artist

Gu Bei walked out of the temporary studio, walked along the corridor to the end, and pushed open a security door with the words "Casual Studio - Under Renovation" on it.

The space inside was much larger than he had imagined.

The six-bedroom, one-living-room layout, covering more than 360 square meters, was originally a vacant half-floor of the Eagle King office building.

Yang Wanqing rented it to them at an extremely low price...

However, that would cost 60 RMB per year.

Inside is a combined lobby for rest, reception, and simple office work.

The recording studio, control room, instrument room, and composition room are arranged around the perimeter.

The soundproof wall is mostly finished, with black sound-absorbing cotton neatly attached to the wall.

In the adjacent control room, the mixing console had been reserved, and cables ran under the floor, arranged neatly in a dense pattern according to color.

At the end of the corridor are three studios: one for Jay Chou, one for Fang Wenshan, and the other for Gu Bei himself...

Looking at the studio that was still under renovation, he suddenly felt as if he had lived in another world.

In his past life, he struggled alone until he lost all his hair, but the paparazzi and public relations company still went bankrupt.

In this life, he is surrounded by Jay Chou, Fang Wenshan, and Sister Yang...

And... Sister Zhou.

In the future, more and more people will earn a lot of money.

Everyone's future is bright!

"Gu Bei?"

The sound came from the recording studio, and Gu Bei looked in the direction of the sound.

A man in his thirties was squatting on the ground, holding a measuring tape in his hand, measuring the angle of the corner of the wall.

He was wearing a faded plaid shirt and his trousers were covered in dust.

"Yang Junrong?" Gu Bei was somewhat surprised.

He had previously considered poaching people from his company.

Later I got too busy and forgot about it.

Unexpectedly, by a twist of fate, the other party still joined the Casual Studio.

Yang Junrong stood up, brushed the dust off his knees, and asked, equally surprised, "How did you know it was me?"

"I've investigated Alfa," Gu Bei casually made up an excuse, walked over, and extended his hand. "Welcome to the Casual Studio."

"Thank you, Gu Bei." Yang Junrong was very excited. "If it weren't for you, President Yang wouldn't have invited me to be Jielun's agent."

"Jay is really talented. I liked his song 'Lovely Woman' the moment I heard it."

……

at the same time.

JA Recording Studio.

Jay Chou stood alone in front of the microphone, his baseball cap pulled down so low it almost covered his entire face.

In front of him was a Neumann U87 microphone, the same model that Gu Bei used when recording "Yellow Race" in mainland China.

The producer's voice came through the earpiece: "Young man, are you ready?"

Jay Chou took a deep breath and gave an "OK" sign.

The accompaniment began.

He suddenly remembered the hardships he had endured along the way.

Wu Zongxian said that his singing sounded like he was constipated.

The demo was rejected twelve times by Alfa Music Project.

He was secretly cursed by a young woman at Alfa Company, who said, "He's hunchbacked and sleazy, like a shameful clown."

The song "The End of the World" written for S.H.E. was turned into a saccharine R&B.

The song "Sister, Who Are You?" written for Xu Ruoxuan was criticized for its unlucky melody.

Too many!

They all say their songs are garbage.

Fang Wenshan and he were alone, hiding in the studio eating instant noodles.

There is also the mother who raised you with great difficulty.

And... Gu Bei!

Thank you, Gu Bei!

Jay Chou silently added a line in his heart, and even the first line he sang was choked with emotion:

"I'm sad... because I've been holding it in for a long time."

"It's because I've been thinking too much."

"It's all in your head."

You said a bitter smile often accompanied you.

"Being together is a bit of a stretch."

Should I divorce you now?

His voice was very soft, with an uncontrollable tremor, as if he was trying his best to restrain something.

Outside the recording studio, three people were sitting in front of the mixing console.

Ken, the producer and sound engineer.

Xiao Ma, a sound engineer who also serves as an assistant.

There was also the recording studio owner, surnamed Huang, in his forties, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, with an unlit cigarette between his fingers.

Ken wore headphones, frowned, and rested his fingers on the volume slider, ready to adjust the volume at any moment.

Little Horse stared calmly at the waveform on the screen.

Boss Huang leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and looked somewhat nonchalant.

The chorus is coming.

"I don't understand your dark humor."

"I figured it out, but then I was stumped again."

"You've been thinking about breaking up for a long time, haven't you?"

"I don't want to expose you...oh."

Jay Chou's voice suddenly rose, from suppressed to released, from low to high.

But that high note...

It's not "pleasant to listen to" in the traditional sense.

Instead, it carries a sense of tearing, like someone shouting with all their might but unable to utter a sound.

This singing style was unprecedented in the Chinese music scene in 2000, which is now the year of its creation.

After the chorus, piano music begins.

Outside the recording studio, Boss Huang dropped the cigarette in his hand.

He paused for a moment, and then...

"Pfft"

He smiled.

It wasn't the kind of appreciative laughter, but rather the kind of mocking laughter that says, "What the hell is this?"

"This...this is singing?" Boss Huang turned to look at Ah Ken. "What is he singing?"

Aken's lips twitched slightly.

Suddenly, he slumped onto the recording console, unable to contain himself, and cursed, "Damn it, singing like a goat bleating, is that what you call singing?"

Xiao Ma took off his headphones, trying not to laugh out loud.

"There's still half a song left, do you want to finish it?" Boss Huang's voice was tinged with helplessness.

In the recording studio, Jay Chou's hands trembled slightly.

He heard it.

Through the headphones, he heard everything happening outside the recording studio.

Those people... every voice was like a needle piercing his ears.

"Keep singing."

Ken's voice came through the earphones.

He just wants to finish recording as soon as possible so he can do other things.

This song is awful, it's absolutely awful to listen to.

Jay Chou took a deep breath, recalling what Gu Bei had said: "When you become famous, you'll find that everyone around you is a good person."

He closed his eyes, and this time his voice became a little more normal.

But only a little bit:

"I don't want to think too much about it."

"I think I must have misheard or made a mistake."

"Please, I think there's something wrong with your head."

"Just say whatever you want..."

"I've already figured it all out and see through everything, so I don't want to say any more. I'm afraid I won't be able to hold back my tears."

Anger and resentment welled up inside me, along with the feeling of "Why do all the people besides Gu Bei, Wen Shan, and my mother think I'm no good?"

When he sang the chorus, his voice rose again.

This time it was more forceful and more tearing than the first time.

It sounds awful!

Outside the recording studio, Boss Huang laughed until tears streamed down his face.

"Haha... I can't take it anymore." He took off his glasses, wiped away his tears, and said, "This young man is really not suited for singing."

"Look at his expression, he looks like a clown."

Ken didn't want to say any more.

Xiao Ma lowered his head, his shoulders trembling.

He carried his water cup out of the control room and went to the water dispenser in the corridor to get some water.

Finally... I couldn't help but laugh.

After laughing, he realized something was wrong and quickly stopped smiling.

"Young man, are you done singing? If you are, hurry up and come out."

Boss Huang put his glasses back on and waved towards the recording studio.

He leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and looked indifferent, as if watching a child misbehaving.

Others look at Jay Chou as if he's a fool who's just throwing money away.

They don't care whether the singing is good or not.

Once the single is fully produced, I'll have NT$10 (approximately RMB 2.5) in my pocket.

Jay Chou took off his headphones, turned around and walked out of the recording studio without saying a word.

As he passed the mixing console, he paused for a moment, glanced at the people there, and quickly walked out of the recording studio.

He walked quickly down the corridor, almost running.

He was afraid that if he stopped, he wouldn't be able to hold back.

Why can't I help it?

Can't help crying, or can't help cursing?

He didn't know that his chest felt tight, as if it was about to explode.

Pushing open the recording studio door, the sunlight was blinding.