Chapter 19

At 3 a.m. today, a gas poisoning incident was reported in Taipei’s Dongqu District.

The Sanli News Department arrived on-site immediately and, during exclusive filming, discovered that all three victims hospitalized were well-known entertainers—and all were under Wu Zongxian’s management.

They were Liu Lihong of the duo Du Bi Xiu Bi, the exceptionally talented songwriter Zhou Jielun, and the newcomer Wen Lan, who had recently gained attention last year for duetting with Wu Zongxian on the song “Roof.”

According to reliable hospital sources, the person who called emergency services and saved their lives was another entertainer who had not yet released an album, affiliated with Warner International Music Co., Ltd.…

The next morning, in the break area of Warner’s recording studio.

When Zhou Yi pushed open the door, yawning and late, what he heard first was not a greeting from the two women, but the news report blaring from the television—

“Yi Ge, you’re just in time— isn’t that you with the mosaic over your face in this news report?”

Zhang Shaohan, sitting on a chair and just tearing open a throat lozenge wrapper, lit up the moment she saw him, her unmistakable voice ringing out—leaving Zhou Yi stunned.

“What? How do you know?”

“Obviously from the clothes, body type, and build.” Zhang Shaohan pointed at the screen, where the live footage from early morning still played—Zhou Yi and Zhou Jielun, their faces blurred, stood out sharply amid the crowd.

Since neither had officially debuted as artists, they were not allowed to show their faces in such current events reports as ordinary civilians.

Sun Yanzi, sitting on a chair and chewing an apple, swung her crossed leg gently and offered sincere advice: “What time did you sleep? Can you even record today in this state? Why not just rest? Damaging your voice isn’t worth it.”

“I got home and went to bed around five, so I can’t record today—only Shaohan will come in. I’ll work on new song arrangements and think about the MV.”

He pulled over a chair, sat down, still tired-eyed, and grabbed a pear from the fruit platter, taking a bite.

No sooner had he finished speaking than Sun Yanzi and Zhang Shaohan both froze—

“New song? You already wrote a new song?”

“What’s the problem?”

Facing their collective bewilderment, Zhou Yi grinned smugly: “Writing songs and arranging music? How could that possibly be hard for me?”

Just a little dance track? Easy.

The lead singles for this album are “Happy Worship” and “Can’t Help Falling in Love”—two heavy hitters. The dance track the company wants is just riding Guo Tianwang’s coattails; no need to make it a timeless classic. I’ll just pick one of Luo Zhixiang’s decently popular songs and copy it.

As a dancer, aside from his status as Taiwan’s top athletic idol, Luo Zhixiang’s popularity and the widespread recognition of his hits are undeniable.

Like Pan Weibo, he’s part of the Hanhua group; though he hasn’t reached the so-called “deity level” of the music industry, he’s firmly among the second-tier leaders.

Zhou Yi had listened to several of his signature songs—

Like “Jing Wu Men,” which cemented his title as the “New Generation Asian Dance King”;

And the two ballads “Love at the Corner” and “Gray Space,” which blew up alongside idol dramas, plus the later viral CP duet “Fox Spirit” that resurged on Rui Station for nearly a year.

Just before leaving home that morning, Zhou Yi double-checked the timeline—“Jing Wu Men” hadn’t been released yet, so he decided to copy it outright.

For safety, he also picked another widely known pop dance track from Lin Junjie’s catalog—“It’s Me.”

Two pop dance tracks are more than enough to satisfy the company.

Of course, after finishing the arrangement, he’d still need to take the demo to a dance instructor to have him choreograph the moves to the beat.

Watching Zhou Yi treat songwriting like eating and drinking, both Sun Yanzi and Zhang Shaohan fell into a stunned silence, unable to speak.

As insiders, they understood the difficulty of writing both lyrics and music.

As singers, they’d both tried writing songs themselves.

Sun Yanzi was fine—her songwriting ability wasn’t divine, but it wasn’t nonexistent.

But Zhang Shaohan… compared to her naturally gifted voice, her songwriting was barely passable.

“I get what you’re saying, but this dance track needs Guo Tianwang’s endorsement. Why not write it first and let us hear it?” Sun Yanzi, still worried the dance track might get tossed in the trash, suggested cautiously.

“No problem,” Zhou Yi said, suppressing his mischievous tone and sitting up straight. “You two can be my first listeners. But I have another question for you both.”

“Sister, Shaohan—would you be interested in starring as the female lead in my MV?”

“Female lead in my MV?”

Both women froze at the invitation, then their faces lit up with eager anticipation. Especially Zhang Shaohan—she feared she’d misheard and asked again: “Really? Yi Ge?”

In this era, music videos were one way for newcomers to quickly build fame and recognition.

Zhang Shaohan assumed that with Warner being such a huge company, their MVs would be lavish productions—and someone with zero credentials like her had no chance at all.

Especially since her own label, Fuma Records, was technically a rival to Warner.

“Of course not. I have full creative control over my album.”

Zhou Yi shrugged, then turned to Sun Yanzi, who hadn’t spoken yet: “What about you, Sister?”

“I’d love to—I filmed my own album’s MV and thought it was fun.”

The eagerness faded as reason returned; Sun Yanzi frowned slightly: “But your style is hip-hop or R&B, and now you’re adding dance tracks per company direction—it clashes with my album’s concept. The company won’t approve it.”

“No problem. There’s still space left on the album—I’ll write some more ballads that won’t conflict with your style.”

Knowing her concerns, Zhou Yi waved it off: “That’s not an issue at all.”

Honestly, this idea had just popped into his head yesterday after meeting Xiao Yaxuan.

Back then, even the “music deities” of this era—male or female—hadn’t yet reached the heights they’d achieve in the future. Bringing them in for an MV? When someone digs up his album videos years later, it’ll be one surprise after another.

If possible, he even wanted to invite Xiao Yaxuan, who was currently at her peak, to appear in these two pop dance tracks.

Then, when Xiao Yaxuan and Sun Yanzi battled for supremacy as the two rising “Little Queens” between 2001 and 2003, his debut album would be the one served by two queens.

Just lying down and raking in traffic—what’s a genius at promotion?