Chapter 328: The Musical Feast, Explode, Explode, Explode!

While Wei Ming was inspecting the performance venue's equipment, Melinda and Sarah Brightman finished breakfast as instructed and prepared to leave.

Just as they reached the lobby, Melinda gasped upon seeing tourists with cameras: "I knew I forgot something—I left my camera!"

She'd learned this from Wei Ming: how could you meet important people without proof?

Melinda went upstairs to retrieve the camera, telling Sarah to stay put.

Sarah: "Bring me an orange too."

When Melinda came back down from the guest room, she saw Sarah chatting with a middle-aged man—a foreigner.

Their conversation was nearly over; seeing Melinda approach, Sarah introduced them: one was her friend, the other claimed to be her fan.

He was also the owner of this hotel, Michael Kadoorie, third-generation head of the British-Jewish Hong Kong Kadoorie family.

Melinda had heard of the Kadoorie family—they'd come to China since the Qing Dynasty and were even granted a title by the Queen.

Before parting, Michael smiled at Sarah: "See you at tonight's concert."

"Alright, see you tonight."

After seeing them off, Michael Kadoorie immediately called the Xinhua Bureau, saying the invitation to tonight's charity concert at the Hong Kong Stadium had been lost by staff—could they issue a replacement?

The other side was embarrassed and hurriedly promised to send one immediately.

This was indeed an oversight: the event's purpose was to tightly unite all overseas Chinese, and every invited businessman was Chinese, whether from Hong Kong or not.

Even Malaysian tycoon K. K. Kuok, who happened to be in Hong Kong, had been invited—but the Kadoorie family received no invitation.

The bureau quickly patched the gap: while there was still time, they sent invitations not only to Michael Kadoorie but also to executives of HSBC, Citibank, and other foreign banks.

Yet only Michael intended to attend; the Kadoorie family had always been close to the mainland and was recently seeking cooperation with Guangzhou to build a nuclear power plant.

Moreover, the Kadoorie family had always been deeply involved in charity, never lagging behind.

Also, Michael had heard his father, Lawrence, say how beautiful it was to hear "Only Time" at the Crown Prince's wedding—he wanted to hear it too, and he'd loved Sarah's earlier album "Moonlight Shadow."

So when he learned this newly risen international superstar had checked into his hotel, he immediately approached to introduce himself; upon learning she was here for the charity concert, he went out of his way to secure a ticket.

Wei Ming hadn't considered the Kadoorie family earlier, but his invitation list wasn't entirely devoid of foreigners—the Governor of Hong Kong, Murray MacLehose, was on it, and Wei Ming had specifically requested the bureau invite him.

Although the bureau had sent the invitation, Wei Ming had Sarah personally invite him again to ensure his attendance.

Murray MacLehose, Hong Kong's 25th Governor, was the longest-serving and most accomplished governor, rated highest by Hong Kongers.

His achievements included establishing the ICAC, massively building public housing, promoting free compulsory education, and constructing underground transit—all of which laid the social foundation for modern Hong Kong.

As a governor of immense prestige, if he attended, he might inspire other tycoons to come—and then they'd surely feel obliged to contribute.

The Governor's Residence stood on the mid-slope of Hong Kong Island's Central, on Aberdeen Road, backed by Mount Taiping, overlooking Victoria Harbour, where MacLehose and his wife lived and worked.

The 64-year-old governor had just returned from London and learned from his deputy, David Wilson, about this charity concert raising funds for Sichuan's disaster victims—a topic now dominating the city.

At first, he thought filling a stadium with over twenty thousand people wouldn't be easy.

"Who did they get? Hui Koon-kei?"

Only Hui Koon-kei had ever held a concert at the stadium before—he was the "God of Songs," with enough draw to fill the place, though his shows had been complained about for disturbing the neighborhood.

Then Wilson read out the long list from the newspaper; MacLehose, having lived in Hong Kong nearly a decade, knew the weight of this list—no "God of Songs," but even greater.

"I didn't expect the Chinese government to have such influence in Hong Kong."

Wilson chuckled: "If this were officially launched by the Chinese government, it might not have drawn so many. This was initiated by an individual—a mainland Chinese—who won the music industry's support through personal charisma and extraordinary creative talent."

"An individual? A mainland Chinese? Who?"

"Wei Ming. His English name—he's probably well-known in China too."

MacLehose immediately recalled Princess Diana's interview—it all clicked. So this brilliant artist's fundraising effort was coming to Hong Kong!

Upon learning he'd been invited, MacLehose genuinely wanted to attend with his wife—no matter where the funds went, charity was good, and his wife loved philanthropy.

Moreover, MacLehose and Wilson, who had secretly visited Beijing, both knew Hong Kong would eventually return—it was inevitable.

Though they couldn't make all Hong Kongers love Britain, they'd cultivated a sense of pride among Hong Kong people—not something mere patriotic propaganda could crush. If the mainland tried red propaganda, it might backfire.

As they spoke, a visitor arrived—it was Sarah Brightman, whom MacLehose had met once in London; her song "Only Time" had deeply impressed him and his wife—her voice sounded as if kissed by angels.

He was puzzled: why was Sarah, who performed "Little Wildcat" in London, now in Hong Kong?

After inviting her in, he learned she'd come specifically to invite him to the charity concert.

It made sense: her first two songs were written by Wei Ming—he was her mentor.

MacLehose asked what she'd sing at the concert: "Will you sing 'Only Time'?"

"Of course."

MacLehose laughed heartily and readily accepted.

Melinda and Sarah exchanged glances—done.

Later, Wei Ming at the stadium learned from Song Duanyou that Governor MacLehose had agreed to attend.

Besides securing MacLehose's attendance, Wei Ming had other moves.

The Xinhua Bureau handled official invitations to tycoons, while Wei Ming invited a group of second-generation heirs and film/TV celebrities, especially female stars.

Unfortunately, he still had few successful films and didn't know if they'd bother showing up.

Cheng Long was hesitating whether to go—he really wanted to hear the concert, with so many popular singers, it would be lively—but he didn't want to donate to charity.

"Big Brother, do you think we'll be laughed at if we go and donate nothing?" Cheng Long asked—this young Ah Long hadn't yet developed deep awareness.

Hong Jinbao, also invited, said: "Then just donate one cent."

"That'll get us laughed to death! Let's just go tonight—after all this publicity, even the Freedom Association hasn't banned attendance."

Since the domineering Freedom Association hadn't issued any ban against this charity event raising funds for the mainland, many invited artists felt tempted.

And like Cheng Long, they wanted to hear the concert for free but didn't want to donate.

The second-generation heirs, however, weren't short on money, and being young, they loved excitement—some were obedient and asked their parents first, others were self-willed and drove off in sports cars.

Rumor had it that this mainland prodigy, who had shocked the British royal family, had written a new song for every performing artist—this was the biggest draw for these playboy heirs.

The concert began at 8 p. ., expected to end before midnight.

Starting at 6 p. ., audiences began arriving steadily.

Volunteers, all young, some even from top schools like HKU and CUHK, guided visitors at every entrance to the Hong Kong Stadium.

At each entrance stood a massive donation box—not mandatory; if you enjoyed the show, you could donate on your way out.

It was like subscribing was your duty, but if you loved it, throw in a monthly subscription or a tip.

At seven, Lao Gui arrived with Zhou Ma and Liu Bin and his wife, accompanied by several shop employees—Haoli Lai had closed early today.

Their seats weren't VIP—they were regular, but near the front; VIP seats were reserved for gouging.

Ah Long and Ah Ying came with the Maniac Comics team, but sat elsewhere.

Zhou Ma stared nervously at the stage—her daughter was performing today.

"What's there to worry about? It's just a choir." Lao Gui shrugged.

"It's a choir for over twenty thousand people!" Zhou Ma emphasized.

At this moment, Zhou Huimin and her classmates had arrived backstage—they were the final act, but had come earliest.

The event had even reached their principal, who'd secured a VIP seat for the students to cheer them on.

Zhou Huimin kept searching for Ah Ming's figure but couldn't find him—he was in the VIP area greeting today's sponsors.

Other performers arrived one by one; unlike the school choir dressed in uniforms, the professional singers wore formal attire.

As she watched, Zhou Huimin suddenly spotted fiery red hair—two foreigners entered, and every eye turned to them.

No foreigners had been present during rehearsals; immediately, the evening's first host, Ah Jie Wang Mingquan, stepped forward to greet them.

"Miss Sarah Brightman, welcome."

Only then did the crowd realize—it was her, the world's hottest female singer, the one who'd achieved godhood with two songs.

But behind her godhood were Wei Ming's two divine compositions—this was Wei Ming's secret weapon tonight!

While everyone's attention focused on Sarah Brightman, only Zhou Huimin stared at the more beautiful red-haired woman beside her.

Melinda? Ah Ming's first love?

The name instantly flashed in Zhou Huimin's mind—she and Ah Ming had shared everything, so she knew every detail of his first love.

She even imagined "First Love" playing as background music for Melinda—felt right, yet felt sour inside; she dared not approach to greet her, only wondering if Ah Ming would introduce them when he came.

Ah Ming: busy, no time.

Wei Ming first shook hands with Jin Yong and Run Run Shaw, inviting them to sit—both had helped immensely with today's event; Ming Pao and TVB were two key promotional platforms.

Then he met a man named Qiu Degen.

Wei Ming had a history with him: earlier, to promote a film, he had organized an elephant tug-of-war at Lai Yuen Zoo—Lai Yuen Amusement Park and Song City were his properties. Watching Qiu Degen and Run Run Shaw enter, Wei Ming thought their ties ran deeper—when Qiu Degen took over Rediffusion and renamed it ATV, it marked the most intense period of rivalry between the two.

Next came another man deeply tied to television: Lin Pak-hing of Lai Sun Group, Qiu Degen's successor as ATV's owner.

Wei Ming had also invited Lin's son, Lin Jianyue, but Wang Chuxian hadn't debuted yet—if she had, he'd have invited her too.

He'd invited Liu Luanxiong too, but at thirty, Big Liu was still insignificant—a small boss running a fan factory; Wei Ming told him to sit with the kids.

Then came the real big names: Sir Yue-Kong Pao, the world's top shipowner, arrived with one of his daughters—he had four daughters, pity that his shipping empire wouldn't bear his family name.

The 63-year-old Pao was very enthusiastic about tonight's charity concert; in July, he'd taken his family to Beijing, donating libraries and funding hotel construction, cozying up to the mainland.

Recently, foreign media ranked the world's seven top shipowners by tonnage, like the Seven Martial Lords—Sir Yue-Kong Pao ranked first with 13 million tons; the second, also from Hong Kong, was Tung Chao-yung, 2 million tons behind.

Old Tung was too elderly to come, but his eldest son arrived—he was still young then.

Hong Kong's shipping conditions naturally produced many shipowners; there was also the Hsu family—the late Republic-era shipowner Hsu Ai-chou—but that was an older story; his grandson, Hsu Jinheng, was only nineteen, and Wei Ming had sent him an invitation.

In another VIP section, young people had already taken seats—some were merchant heirs, some were popular stars, and Liu Luanxiong, the young businessman, sat in a corner like a lackey.

In front of Liu Luanxiong sat Ma Qingwei, his brother-in-law, younger and wealthier—his father had once been one of Hong Kong's five richest men, now slightly diminished.

He'd brought a woman—not his mistress, but his sister, Ma Jingyi, who'd played Niang Zhenzhu in "A Zhu and A Zi," still elegant.

In front of them sat Hsu Jinheng, studying at the University of California, Pacific, who'd returned to Hong Kong for summer vacation and received an invitation—this man, now famous in the Western world, he had to come see what was going on.

Unexpectedly, he met an old acquaintance here.

"Chaoqiong!" Xu Jinheng exclaimed with delight, greeting He Chaoqiong, the sister of his family's longtime friend.

He Chaoqiong had been smiling all along, but when she saw Xu Jinheng, her smile vanished.

"Oh, Mr. Xu."

"You're being formal—you can call me by my English name, Julian."

Behind the scenes, singers Tan Yonglin, Zhang Guorong, and Kwan Cheng-kit saw their boss Zheng Donghan arrive, accompanied by his ten-year-old son Zhongji, who had always had small eyes.

Yet he was deeply passionate about music and wouldn't miss such an occasion; as soon as little Zhongji arrived, he was immediately surrounded by stars.

With the show's start drawing nearer, Tan Yonglin found Zhang Mingmin, who was still calmly sipping tea to soothe his throat, and asked: "Why aren't you worried? Aren't you going on first?"

Zhang Mingmin said: "No, I'm second."

"What? You're second? Then who's first?" During rehearsals, Zhang Mingmin had always opened the show.

At that moment, Tan Yonglin suddenly noticed several more people beside Zheng Donghan.

Teddy Robin, along with his brothers Kwan Wai-lun and Kwan Wai, had arrived—and their clothes had become wildly flashy.

This… this is the Flower Boys Band!

Zheng Donghan laughed: "That's right—the opening act is the long-absent Flower Boys Band! Brothers, are you ready?"

Old Zheng enthusiastically raised his hand; the other four members placed theirs on top and shouted: "For our dreams, no more hesitation!"

At 7: 0, Huang Baiming and Xu Ke's wife, Nan Sheng, had already taken their seats. Though Wei Ming had sent them invitations, they declined the VIP seats and bought scalped tickets themselves.

First, to avoid being pressured into donations; second, to avoid being forced to pick sides; third, to avoid sitting too close and being spotted by Mak Ka.

Mak Ka was probably watching the broadcast at home—both TV stations were airing this program, no choice.

Huang Zhan, one of Hong Kong's Four Talents, also declined the invitation; he chose to watch at his girlfriend's house, where he could also do something… intimate.

Just as he wrapped his arms around her, someone knocked on the door—it was Lin Yanni's younger brother, Lin Zhenqiang.

"Sis, Brother Zhan."

Huang Zhan snapped: "What are you doing here?"

Lin Zhenqiang said sheepishly: "Our TV's broken, and I couldn't get concert tickets, so I came over to borrow yours."

Huang Zhan pulled a ticket straight from his bag: "Here, take it—go watch live."

Lin Zhenqiang checked the time: "Why didn't you say sooner? The show's about to start!"

The time was 7: 8.

The Hong Kong Stadium.

The stage lights, which had been glowing, suddenly went dark—only the audience seats retained faint illumination.

In the darkness, Wang Mingquan's voice rang out: "Tomorrow Will Be Better—heart to heart, all Chinese people worldwide. Welcome, twenty-five thousand live audience members!"

Li Xiaotian said: "Many of you are last-minute additions—thank you for your passion for charity."

Cheng Yu-ling: "We also thank TVB and Rediffusion for their strong support of this event."

After the three unseen hosts finished, the prelude music began.

The audience paused—huh? It started already?

As the lights flared, Teddy Robin's voice rose.

"Bored, I see hesitation / Achieving ideals isn't easy / Even with confidence, ambition is suppressed…"

Then Zheng Donghan sang: "Who decides if I go or stay? / Who defines my universe? / I only want to wave toward my dreams with these two hands / Ask the sky—how high is it?"

Then came a chorus.

Before the TV, Huang Zhan no longer shooed away Lin Zhenqiang; he listened intently and nodded: "New song. Really good."

Lin Zhenqiang, though not yet in the music industry, had good taste: "The melody is upbeat, the lyrics inspiring—must be his work."

Lin Yanni, Hong Kong's famed female talent, exclaimed: "I told you! A genius born of heaven—I'm reading his novels right now!"

Huang Zhan adjusted his glasses, sourly: "He's a mainlander. He barely manages Cantonese songs—maybe this one's decent, that's all."

At Mak Ka's house, he watched Teddy Robin bouncing energetically on screen, furious—he wanted to smash something. That little brat had gone to cheer for them—and for free!

But Huang Baiming, Xu Ke, and others felt this free appearance was worth it.

The Flower Boys Band had seniority, but few breakout hits—less than later acts like Wynners. Now, after years apart, they finally had a successful signature song.

Behind the scenes, Tan Yonglin, Chung Kam-tau, and Chen You—the Three Tigers of Wynners—heard the song for the first time and shook their heads in envy.

Wei Ming had promised that if Wynners reunited, he'd write them a band song—he probably already wrote it. Too bad the other two refused. This "No More Hesitation" was likely meant for Wynners.

Tan Yonglin shook his head: "What a pity."

Chung Kam-tau said: "Yes, such a great song."

"I love the lyrics—'I only want to wave toward my dreams with these two hands / Ask the sky—how high is it? / My ambition soars higher than the sky…'" Chen You sang aloud.

The first song was a huge success—the live audience responded warmly, and all of Hong Kong watched TV intently, setting aside their tasks. This was a song that inspired everyone striving for their dreams.

Even the entrepreneurs in the crowd were moved; 74-year-old Shaw Yat-fung recalled his early days with his third brother, expanding the film market in Southeast Asia.

If all songs were this quality, Wei Ming's sincerity was undeniable—fine, he'd donate a little.

After the performance ended, the three hosts took the stage. Zheng Donghan announced that PolyGram would produce a record of the concert, donating all profits to the disaster area.

His statement immediately won widespread goodwill—applause erupted.

Shaw Yat-fung, owner of Capital Records and a rival, snorted. Clearly, donating a little wouldn't be enough.

Next, the hosts invited Governor MacLehose to speak.

This beloved Hong Kong governor declared the government would provide the stadium free of charge for the charity concert—Wei Ming saved a fortune in rent.

He then donated a month's salary—he'd genuinely been moved by the passion of those middle-aged men's music.

Many wealthy Hong Kong businessmen who hadn't come to the venue, seeing the governor donate, immediately ordered their drivers to take them there—it was still early enough.

Host Wang Mingquan said: "Our charity initiator, Mr. Wei Ming, has composed many outstanding songs for this concert. Next is a fresh new song. But to encourage our bosses to open their wallets—how about a bidding game?"

Cheng Yu-ling: "Oh? How?"

Wang Mingquan: "Simple. After the singer finishes, we bid to make him sing another—any song he chooses."

Li Xiaotian: "Wow, that's great."

He pulled out a small wooden hammer: "I've already prepared it."

The rules were set: the key was whether the singer could move the tycoons.

And the key to the key was Zhang Mingmin's first official appearance.

On tonight's lineup, his fame ranked near the bottom—Mandarin songs were fading in Hong Kong; his influence couldn't match Tan Yonglin's group.

But tonight, he wasn't singing Mandarin—he was singing Minnan, even more niche than Mandarin…

…

(Daily minimum—this section nearly made me vomit from research!)

(End of Chapter)