Chapter 3: The World

Inside the room.

Under dim lighting.

Shen Long slumped over the desk, taking a deep breath.

To make money!

To make money!

He kept silently convincing himself.

But when he opened the screenplay outline and saw “Sun Wukong vs. Superman 2”…

He instantly shut his eyes, feeling his anus tighten as if ten thousand grassy horses were galloping through.

What the fuck is this?!

Much later…

He finally opened his eyes again, thought through every happy moment of his life, then reopened the screenplay page of “Sun Wukong vs. Superman 2.”

With a million yuan investment, if I scrimp and save, maybe I can barely scrape by!

Worst case, I won’t put my name on it—or use a pen name.

But…

The moment he put pen to paper and began crafting that absurd plot, he felt his entire life was over.

………………………………

Nighttime in Yanjing.

Brilliant and noisy.

Zhou Yang, dressed in a crisp suit, arrived calmly at Tianqiao.

Tianqiao was bustling; every few steps, you’d see several long-haired street singers wailing like demons.

Zhou Yang stopped before a long-haired singer in ripped jeans and watched silently.

The singer, lost in his performance, shook his head and swayed wildly after getting hyped, imagining himself on a globally watched concert stage.

But no one nearby was listening, and the guitar case was empty—barely a few bills inside…

This man was Shen Hu, Shen Long’s younger brother.

In 2003, rock music in Hong Kong and Taiwan was still wildly popular, and Yanjing was a holy land for drifting pop stars.

Countless high school dropouts who smoked, fought, and hung out in bars listened to a few rock songs and read a few biographies, then got fired up and sat on Yanjing’s Tianqiao with guitars, singing.

Shen Hu was one of them—and the most typical.

The song ended…

Shen Hu gulped down a bottle of mineral water, glanced at the empty guitar case, couldn’t hide his disappointment, but quickly tilted his head up and played the guitar with proud defiance.

“Next, I’ll bring you an original song: ‘Skipping School at Night’…”

A singer’s compositions usually draw from personal experience.

Meet too many women, and your songs become tales of their hearts.

Break up too often, and you write heartbreak ballads.

Stay a lonely dog too long, and you sing soulful songs about being a dog.

…

Shen Hu hadn’t finished high school, had little education or life experience, but believed he was brimming with artistic cells. He locked himself in his rented room for a week and finally created his prideful masterpiece: “Skipping School at Night.”

“Skipping School at Night” was his daily staple; once he opened his mouth, his voice tore through like he’d lost both parents.

The first time Zhou Yang heard it, he thought Shen Hu was wailing at a funeral—he immediately wondered if he should give money for condolences.

Sure enough, when Shen Hu started singing, he drew the attention of many passersby.

But everyone’s expressions were strange, and whispers spread among them.

“Fuck, that sudden wailing scared the shit out of me!”

“Is this guy mentally ill?”

“Lately, a lot of singers have gone insane—keep your distance…”

“Yeah, right…”

“…”

Zhou Yang watched some people, startled and mumbling, quickly pull their companions away, then looked at Shen Hu, lost in his own world, blissfully self-satisfied.

Zhou Yang found it hilarious.

After Shen Hu finished his wailing and saw everyone had retreated far away, he grew visibly disappointed.

His eyes accidentally landed on Zhou Yang, then lit up with eagerness: “Zhou Zong, how was my singing?”

“Awesome!”

“Can you release an album for me?”

“Absolutely, you can release an album!”

“Really? You mean it?”

“Yes, you can!”

“But those people…”

“Who cares about them? Believe in your talent! Stick to your art!”

Zhou Yang adjusted his glasses, his expression earnest: “Among all the singers I know, you’re by far the most talented.”

“Zhou Ge, you really think so?”

“Why else would I sign you?”

“True, hehe…”

Shen Hu grinned foolishly, offered Zhou Yang a cigarette, but Zhou Yang waved it off: “I don’t smoke—I quit. By the way, I’m planning to make a movie. Revise ‘Skipping School at Night’ according to my instructions—I’ll release an album for you.”

“Really?” Shen Hu perked up instantly, leaned close to Zhou Yang with a pleading smile: “Zhou Zong, do you think my image works?”

“Sure, your image is great—not much worse than those top stars.”

“Should I cut my hair?”

“No need. It’s perfect. Remember, keep this look—I’ll give you a role in the movie. You’ll shine in both film and music!”

“Thank you, thank you, Zhou Zong, thank you!” Hearing this, Shen Hu’s spirits soared again; his not-too-bright mind flooded with gratitude and longing.

Zhou Yang patted his shoulder, glanced at the guitar case on the ground, and adjusted his glasses seriously: “I’m out of change—I’ll take this money to buy some drinks and pay you back later.”

“Sure, sure, take it… Hey, why pay back? What kind of relationship do we have? No need to repay—Zhou Zong, you doing this makes us distant!” Shen Hu panicked, snatched the money, and shoved it urgently into Zhou Yang’s hand, afraid he’d refuse.

“Hah, fine!” Zhou Yang laughed, adjusted his glasses: “Keep singing. I’ve got to go scout actors for the movie. Oh, and stick to yourself, got it? You’re about to succeed!”

“Got it, got it!” Shen Hu nodded like a chicken pecking rice.

Watching Zhou Yang, in his sharp suit, walk steadily away until he vanished, Shen Hu turned back and hugged his guitar.

Just then…

A thin, small singer beside him hesitated, then finally stepped forward to Shen Hu.

“Shen Hu, haven’t you noticed? He’s been scamming you for money these past few days!”

“Zhou Zong is going to release an album for me!”

“Release an album? Are you crazy? Don’t you know your own worth? You? An album? You mean that ‘Funeral March’?”

“That’s not a funeral—it’s ‘Skipping School at Night’! It’s a tribute to youth, full of deep emotion—it’s art…”

“Stop daydreaming. Do you really think anyone listens to your crap? Wake up! Look at those people—see their faces? They look at you like you’re an idiot or a fool. And wake up—someone who scams a few yuan won’t spend his own money to release your album!”

“…”

Shen Hu’s face flushed crimson. He wanted to argue but had no reply. After a long silence, he picked up his broken guitar and resumed wailing on the bridge.

The thin singer shook his head, thinking this guy had lost his mind.

…………………………

Ten p.m.

The evening breeze blew.

Outside Yanying College, luxury cars lined the street.

Tall girls stepped reluctantly into them.

Zhou Yang wandered to the Yanying security booth and watched the cars silently.

“Fuck!”

“Damn, rich people have it good—they achieve women freedom instantly, and never repeat them daily…”

Security guard Zhang Shun muttered under his breath where the cameras couldn’t reach, then took the cigarette Zhou Yang offered.

“Old Zhang, can I post an ad in your security booth?”

“What kind of ad?” Zhang Shun took a drag, turned, and stared at the handwritten recruitment notice in Zhou Yang’s hand: “Actors Wanted?”

“Yes, I want to make a whole movie.”

“What? You want to make a movie?”

“Yes…”

“Making a movie costs a fortune. Are you sure you have the money?”

“Money isn’t a problem for me…”

Zhang Shun stared at Zhou Yang in disbelief.

A month ago, he’d been walking by the river when he saw Zhou Yang crawling out of the water and nearly jumped out of his skin.

He’d quickly pulled him out, and upon learning Zhou Yang was a company boss, he thought he’d misheard.

Is there a CEO who looks this ragged? And he’s way too young—like a student…

But later, he figured the CEO must have gone bankrupt and tried to commit suicide by jumping into the river, but failed.

Anyway, starting from that day, Zhou Zong began showing up at his security booth every few days—either to skim the day’s new newspaper or to snag a free lunch…

Zhou Yang adjusted his glasses.

Then he straightened his suit, stepped outside the security booth, and posted an actor recruitment poster under Zhang Shun’s bewildered gaze.

The poster bore a bold headline: 【The World’s First Sino-American Blockbuster!】