[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-the-king-of-2000-a-mandopop-dynasty":3,"chapter-the-king-of-2000-a-mandopop-dynasty-the-king-of-2000-a-mandopop-dynasty-chapter-13":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","The King of 2000: A Mandopop Dynasty",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2301269,4501,"Chapter 13: Chapter Thirteen: Known as the Little Dancing King of Asia","the-king-of-2000-a-mandopop-dynasty-chapter-13",13,"\u003Cp>“I have no objections, thank you, Boss Zhou. You can make the arrangements.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Facing this sudden big opportunity, Zhou Yi couldn’t possibly claim he wasn’t surprised—but he quickly regained his composure and sincerely thanked Zhou Jianhui.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even though he was now with Warner, who was Guo Tianwang?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One of the Four Heavenly Kings of Hong Kong, the Dancing King of Asia—titles so dazzling they could blind passersby.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Passersby didn’t care whether Guo Tianwang originally rose through bundled hype; what mattered was that he at least had the ability to seize the fortune that came with such hype and steadily cement his place among the Four Heavenly Kings.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thus, what the public came to see was that Guo Tianwang was one of Hong Kong’s golden-era Four Heavenly Kings.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To be honest, in 2000, Warner’s entire top-tier male artist roster depended on Guo Tianwang—and Zhou Yi never imagined Zhou Jianhui would reach out to this man to promote himself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But perhaps because he himself had climbed to fame through bundled marketing, Guo Tianwang, while not openly resisting mentoring newcomers, was inwardly reluctant—treating it as nothing more than a chore to be gone through.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhou Yi wasn’t sure how much of Guo Tianwang’s popularity he could actually piggyback on under the company’s arrangement.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Still, Zhou Jianhui calling him directly left him puzzled. If he remembered correctly, artist image packaging and publicity at Warner should have been handled by Vice President Chen Zeshan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When he first heard Zhou Jianhui say this, he assumed it was Vice President Chen Zeshan planning some flashy stunt—but it turned out to be Zhou Jianhui himself taking charge.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It’s no exaggeration to say that Warner’s return to its peak between 2001 and 2005 was largely due to Zhou Jianhui’s contributions.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After all, when it came to publicity and marketing, Zhou Jianhui, as Warner’s general manager, held a philosophy utterly different from that of Chen Zeshan, now Warner’s vice president.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For Zhou Jianhui, when executing publicity campaigns, he always first consulted his artists’ opinions and only proceeded after clearly understanding their boundaries.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Vice President Chen Zeshan, by contrast, would spare no effort to exploit any available resource for publicity, no matter how extreme.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A classic example was Sun Yanzi’s so-called “Egyptian kidnapping” incident in 2007—Chen Zeshan’s most infamous publicity stunt, and the root cause of Sun Yanzi’s rupture with him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The reason this happened was that Zhou Jianhui, then Warner’s Greater China president and Sun Yanzi’s discoverer, had left Warner Music in 2005 amid internal power struggles.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Without Zhou Jianhui’s personal connection, Sun Yanzi left Warner and, at the invitation of Chen Zeshan—who was also one of her mentors—joined EMI Records (Caiyi Bai Dai).\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then, during the filming of her 2007 album “Reverse Light,” Chen Zeshan exploited the Egyptian incident for publicity. When Sun Yanzi returned and said, “It wasn’t that bad,” she chose to retreat again, not releasing another album for four full years…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Rumors claimed that the publicity strategy violated Sun Yanzi’s principles as a musician—and indeed, she never worked with Chen Zeshan again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhou Dong’s public media condemnation of the “chart-buying” scandal directly targeted Chen Zeshan as the mastermind, forcing the latter to publicly apologize and admit fault.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Afterward, Zhou Dong faced a full internet backlash—accusations of stealing instant noodles, being a “little Japanese,” and more…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It’s hard to say Chen Zeshan didn’t contribute to that.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If this kind of person were orchestrating Zhou Yi’s popularity-boosting campaign, he’d seriously reconsider—no telling what bizarre persona Chen Zeshan might invent to launch him, and he’d rather decline outright.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After all, this guy was a master-level architect of artist personas in the Chinese-language music scene—pure girl-next-door, elegant miss; literary youth, shy boy—you name it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Many said Cai Yilin’s style and persona shift was due to Zhou Dong—but in reality, the mastermind behind her 2003 transformation was Chen Zeshan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From her debut, when Chen Zeshan shaped her into a sweet, girl-next-door image following the American Britney Spears model to earn the title “teen heartthrob,” to her post-low-point 2003 shift toward the Asian diva style of Ayumi Hamasaki, Chen Zeshan played a pivotal role.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The strangest part? Cai Yilin had once broken ties with Chen Zeshan over a contract dispute, holding a solo press conference in 2001 with a lawyer to accuse him of deceiving her into signing a contract while at Universal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the time, Chen Zeshan, already transferred to Warner, publicly declared he would never work with Cai Yilin again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Who could have imagined that behind the scenes, they remained in contact and advised Cai Yilin on adopting Ayumi Hamasaki’s look and stage presence during her slump? After her successful transformation, she reconciled with Chen Zeshan and signed a new contract once she became a superstar…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It’s just… hilarious.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No wonder there are no real enemies in the entertainment industry—everyone sees each other every day; isn’t it better to get along and make money?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only Zhou Dong, back then young and impetuous, made Chen Zeshan lose face by naming him publicly—and ended up getting blacklisted himself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sun Yanzi, on the other hand, was more capricious: after the “Reverse Light” publicity scandal, she broke ties with Chen Zeshan and simply stopped releasing albums, retiring for four full years until her contract expired and she returned with a new record.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hey? Zhou Yi? Zhou Yi? What are you thinking about? So spaced out? What kind of spell did Boss Zhou cast on you?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhou Yi had been lost in his wandering thoughts when Sun Yanzi’s voice from across the table snapped him back—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He looked up: Sun Yanzi and Zhang Shaohan were both watching him curiously.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ahem, nothing much. He just asked if I had any objections to piggybacking on Guo Tianwang’s popularity.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He coughed once, fist pressed to his lips, then tossed his Nokia onto the table and smirked: “You two keep this secret—strictly confidential. Don’t let a third person know.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Piggyback… on Guo Tianwang’s popularity?!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sun Yanzi was fine—she’d joined Warner before Zhou Yi and had already met Guo Fucheng and Zheng Xiuwen, Warner’s top male and female artist. But Zhang Shaohan was different.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She was just a nobody from Fuma Records—how could she possibly have the chance to meet someone like Guo Tianwang, perched at the very top of the entertainment pyramid?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her current mindset was identical to that of an ordinary Guo Tianwang fan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“So you’re saying, Brother Yi, you’re going to appear on a show with Guo Tianwang?” As someone who followed the entertainment scene, Zhang Shaohan wasn’t clueless about how senior artists mentored newcomers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She’d once fantasized about a company’s top female artist noticing her and taking her along on shows to build her visibility.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But reality was cruel—at least for now.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Probably, unless something changes. I might have to go to Hong Kong. Being an artist is busy—you’re always on the move.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Since they were already deploying Guo Tianwang as their ace, the promotional campaign wouldn’t be limited to Taiwan alone. Zhou Yi guessed they’d need to hit Hong Kong too—it was Guo Tianwang’s home turf.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for the mainland, while every company was beginning to show interest in that market, none had fully shifted their promotional center there yet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhou Jianhui had seen the mainland’s potential and partnered with Maitian—so Zhou Yi’s album promotion there would rely mainly on Maitian’s channels and connections.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Don’t act like you’re getting a bad deal. The Hong Kong market is strong—sales aren’t worse than Taiwan’s. But I think you should be careful there. Things are too aggressive right now.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing her junior’s smugness, Sun Yanzi, as a senior who’d already visited Hong Kong to pay respects to the top artists, warned him: “Xie Tingfeng is about our age, but he’s insanely popular—he’s crushed the sales space for many young artists.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“And because of the competition, people there aren’t exactly friendly toward us.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Beside them, Zhang Shaohan, transformed into a curious bystander, sat quietly with wide, sparkling eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She was in the industry too and understood the fierce battles between companies in their respective markets—but she knew better than to interfere in this conversation, lest she lose points with these two Warner heavyweights.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I know Xie Tingfeng is popular. But I’m piggybacking on Guo Tianwang’s popularity—if I do appear on a show, I probably won’t even meet him.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhou Yi nodded, grateful for Sun Yanzi’s veteran advice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In this era, Xie Tingfeng’s popularity was unquestionable. And due to his clean-cut background, Hong Kong media were pushing him as the next Emperor of Emperor Entertainment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though Wang Jie still held the title of Emperor Entertainment’s top male artist, his decline was obvious—he was only still relevant because of his age.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Put simply: two years after Ren Xianqi dominated the Chinese-language music scene, the artist Hong Kong promoted to rival him wasn’t Wang Jie—it was Xie Tingfeng.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Around the year 2000, Xie Tingfeng was the undisputed number-one Hong Kong teen king, wildly popular across Taiwan, Hong Kong, and the mainland—his fame exploded after his Spring Festival Gala appearance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His future was clearly bright, visible to all.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hong Kong and mainland media were already calling him “the next Heavenly King,” aiming to counter the dominance of Taiwan’s Zhou Hua, Ren Xianqi, and others.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Was Zhou Dong awesome?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course he was.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But before 2002, his popularity in Hong Kong and the mainland couldn’t match Xie Tingfeng’s.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In fact, before 2002, any young Taiwanese singer—male or female—brought out to compete in popularity would be utterly crushed by Xie Tingfeng.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Not necessarily—you might run into them at private gatherings.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sun Yanzi shook her head and shared some of her own experiences from when she paid her respects: “For example, I once attended a gathering with Zheng Xiuwen—and Wang Jie was there.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“… ”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhou Yi, who had thought this was no big deal, raised an eyebrow, momentarily speechless.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Should he say Wang Jie probably wanted to escape?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This guy was ridiculous—he didn’t even protect his voice, and kept hinting that someone was poisoning him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Worse, he’d given multiple conflicting versions of the poisoning story himself, leaving Hong Kong and Taiwan media, eager to exploit the drama for sales, dumbfounded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His behavior made people wonder whether his voice was damaged by poison—or his brain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Later, when Wang Jie became irrelevant and couldn’t stir up even a ripple, the “poisoned voice” story became a clickbait tool for mainland internet marketing accounts, drained for every last drop of traffic value.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Who knows? We’ll see when the time comes—if what you said is true, maybe I really will run into them…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shaking his head, Zhou Yi pushed those amusing thoughts aside and focused on eating.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After finishing his meal, Zhou Yi was supposed to attend Sun Yanzi’s secret lessons—but as soon as he stepped into the company, he was summoned to the general manager’s office—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pushing open the door, Zhou Jianhui, dressed in a suit with gold-rimmed glasses, sat on the reception sofa, beside him a man in round-framed glasses: Li Sisong.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Boss Zhou, Brother Li, you wanted to see me?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After greeting them, Zhou Yi sat down as gestured, curious: “It seems like something big’s up?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Zhou Yi, I have a question: can you write dance music?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The two men exchanged glances, then Zhou Jianhui adjusted his glasses and asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhou Yi froze: “Dance music?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes. Dance music.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhou Jianhui nodded: “Sisong told me your new compositions are excellent, with great rhythm. Since our company’s biggest star, Guo Fucheng, is known for energetic pop dance tracks, I’m wondering if you’d consider adding a few dance-influenced songs to your upcoming album?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“That way, our initial promotion can focus on this angle, maximizing the popularity you’ll gain from Guo Fucheng’s Yinliu .”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“For example, if Guo Fucheng is the Dancing King of Asia, you could be the Little Dancing King of Asia.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At once, Li Sisong chimed in: “I’ve analyzed your melodies—if you tweak them slightly to incorporate dance elements, they’d work beautifully.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Or, when you wrote these songs, did you already draw inspiration from pop dance music?”\u003C\u002Fp>",2000,"2026-06-20T07:33:41.161Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","2ef36f884162a9894c2c7f7e8b31d600a91e2fe94666713df2ec2b16ce60dff6","the-king-of-2000-a-mandopop-dynasty-chapter-14","the-king-of-2000-a-mandopop-dynasty-chapter-12",883,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthe-king-of-2000-a-mandopop-dynasty-cover.jpg"]