Huayu: A master director who debuted as a singer

Li Zongming took a notebook out of his briefcase, opened it, and found it contained his schedule.

"I've arranged a newspaper interview for you, and a radio interview... all of this is to help you gain fame after the CCTV broadcast."

"These interviews will remain unchanged. But they must be done tomorrow, and quickly."

Before the Spring Festival Gala announcement, you need to build up your brand awareness. Let people know who you are and what you do.

Zheng Hui nodded: "I'll follow your arrangements."

"And this too." Li Zongming turned to a page, which displayed the names of several brands.

Jeanswest, Yishion, Anta.

This is a clothing brand that recently approached us for an endorsement.

"Jeanswest offered two million a year. That's an astronomical sum for a newcomer. I was originally planning to sign him when I went back to Guangzhou this time."

Li Zongming took the pen, touched the number with the tip, and drew a line with force.

"We can't sign now. Let's take a gamble, I bet you can get on the Spring Festival Gala."

"Your value will double as soon as you appear on the Spring Festival Gala."

"Six million, and that's after tax. Not a penny less, we're not even talking."

Zheng Hui asked with a smile, "Brother Li, aren't you afraid of losing the bet? What if you don't get selected for the Spring Festival Gala and Jeanswest backs out?"

Li Zongming sneered: "Go back on your word? Impossible. Merchants always chase the rise and sell the fall."

With your current momentum, even if you don't make it to the Spring Festival Gala, you'll be a regular on CCTV and an idol for young people. I have plenty of projects worth two or three million yuan ready to go.

"We are now in a seller's market; the initiative is in our hands."

"If we win the bet, we'll be on top of the world, instantly becoming A-list superstars. If we lose, we'll just stay at our current value; we won't lose anything."

"Okay." Zheng Hui nodded: "Then we'll do as you say, stall for time."

"There's something else."

Li Zongming turned to another page of the notebook, which was filled with place names.

"If you actually get into the Spring Festival Gala production team, then your entire December will be wasted. The Spring Festival Gala rehearsals are notoriously strict and demanding; you have to be available at any time, and there's simply no time to take on other jobs."

"Therefore, we only have November left to make money."

Li Zongming's finger traced over those place names.

"Guangzhou, Shenzhen, Dongguan, Chaoshan, Xiamen, Fuzhou, Hangzhou, Nanjing, Shanghai..."

"This is a line that runs along the economically developed coastal areas."

"I'm waiting for your audition news for the Spring Festival Gala. Once you pass, I'll start contacting event promoters. Variety shows, shopping mall openings, real estate ribbon-cutting ceremonies... as long as they pay, we'll take it."

Li Zongming looked at Zheng Hui with a serious expression: "This month will be very tiring for you. Basically, you'll finish performing in one city and then take a bus to the next city overnight. You'll sleep and eat in the bus."

"One game a day is the minimum, but sometimes it might be two or three games a day."

"We want to turn this wave of popularity into real money within this month."

Zheng Hui replied without hesitation: "No problem, that's exactly why I bought the Jinbei Haishi back then."

Li Zongming closed his notebook: "Okay, it's settled then."

"Tomorrow morning, a reporter from the Beijing Youth Daily will arrive at nine o'clock, followed by the Guangming Daily in the afternoon, and there will be a radio interview in the evening."

"Once the news about the Spring Festival Gala comes out, we'll go back to Guangzhou and leave Jeanswest and the others waiting to be seen, to whet our appetites."

"Then, we started our road trip for commercial performances."

The next morning at nine o'clock, in the conference room of the VIP Building Hotel.

The first group to enter were reporters from the Beijing Youth Daily. As soon as one of them sat down, Li Zongming subtly pushed a thick envelope under his notebook. The reporter glanced at it, his smile widening.

"Hello Zheng Hui, this is Xiao Zhao from the Beijing Youth Daily. Your new album has been quite controversial lately. Some people say your lyrics are too arrogant and overbearing. What's your opinion?"

Zheng Hui relaxed: "Arrogant? I think it's confidence."

"It's truly tragic if someone at eighteen years old tries to act profound or pretend to be worldly-wise."

"My songs are written for my peers. We've been suppressed for too long in school, and we need an outlet. When I say I want to fly higher, it's not arrogance, but a yearning for the future. If you don't even dare to dream, what kind of young person are you?"

Xiao Zhao quickly jotted down the notes in his notebook, clearly satisfied with the answer.

"And what about the criticisms from the rock scene? They say you're kitsch."

"Tacky?" Zheng Hui laughed: "If making more people hear and understand is tacky, then I'm willing to be tacky to the end."

Rock and roll isn't just about anger and decadence; it can also be uplifting and positive. I sing about the lives of our generation, not the shadows of others.

After seeing off the Beijing Youth Daily, Yan Song, a veteran reporter from Guangming Daily, arrived on time at 2 p.m.

Li Zongming also handed over an envelope, which Yan Song felt was thick before discreetly putting it into his bag.

"Mr. Zheng, let's talk about your background. As a singer from Macau, next year marks the 1999 handover of Macau to China. Is there any special significance to releasing this album in mainland China at this time?"

This is what the official media is focusing on.

Zheng Hui dropped his relaxed demeanor when facing entertainment reporters: "Teacher Yan, although I grew up in Macau, I spoke Hokkien with my parents since I was a child, but I learned Mandarin and wrote Chinese characters in school. Macau is very close to the motherland, and even closer to it in our hearts."

"This album is actually a homecoming gift for me."

Yan Song stopped writing and looked up at Zheng Hui: "A homecoming gift? That's a novel idea."

"Yes, I want to use music to tell my peers in mainland China that young people in Macau are just like you, with passion, dreams, and confusion. We listen to the same songs and shed the same blood."

Zheng Hui pointed to his chest: "Music is the best bridge. I hope my songs can bridge the gap between young people in both places."

Yan Song nodded, his eyes showing more appreciation: "Well said, music is a bridge, that's a good title."

In the evening, Zheng Hui came to the Beijing People's Broadcasting Station for an interview.

"This is FM97.4BJ Music Radio. Welcome Zheng Hui to our live broadcast studio. Zheng Hui, many listeners have requested your song 'Stubborn.' What's the story behind this song?"

Speaking into the microphone, Zheng Hui said in a steady voice, "It's actually very simple. This song is written for those who refuse to give up in the face of adversity. Whether you're a student who failed an exam or an employee who's experiencing setbacks at work, I hope this song can give you strength."

"Some people say your songs are too straightforward and lack a sense of mystery."

"Life is complicated enough, why do we have to solve riddles when listening to songs?" Zheng Hui retorted. "I like directness, I like the exhilaration of throwing a punch. I want everyone to be able to shout out all their pent-up frustrations when they sing in a karaoke bar."

After a full day of interviews, Zheng Hui returned to his hotel and collapsed onto the sofa, his throat feeling parched.

Li Zongming smiled with satisfaction: "Good job. You were arrogant when you needed to be, composed when you needed to be, and emotional when you needed to be. Once these articles are published, your image will be established."

"He is both a rebellious rock star and a patriotic son of Macau with his heart set on his motherland."

Everything is ready, except for the east wind.

Liu Huan's DAT tape has already been placed on the desk of Meng Xin, the chief director of the Spring Festival Gala.