Chapter 35: The Summer of Generational Transition

“My teacher has already arranged the theater for filming and the performers for ‘Hua Tian Cuo,’ but your company must cover the costs for this period.”

“No problem. You might not know, Warner has everything lacking except for a lack of my money.”

Zhou Yi pointed proudly at the newspaper in the woman’s hands: “This is my capital.”

“So it’s gossip, then?”

“Not exactly. To be honest, Xiao Yaxuan has been eyeing me.”

Zhou Yi unfolded the newspaper and pointed to Xiao Yaxuan’s photo beneath his own portrait, dead serious: “I just thought her sincerity wasn’t enough, so I turned her down—for now.”

Cheng Hao’s eyes curled into a smile as she laughed: “What kind of wording is that? ‘Eyeing you’? You really think you’re Tang Sanzang’s flesh, where every woman wants to take a bite?”

“I’m way handsomer than Tang Sanzang, and besides, the old monk’s demeanor is all solemn and holy—nothing like me.”

“…”

“Demeanor? Sure.”

Cheng Hao, feeling distinctly uneasy, snatched back her own purchased newspaper and gave the man a glare: “Alright, tell me how you want me to help with your MV?”

“If I remember right, your final exams are coming up soon too.”

“The exams aren’t urgent.”

For Zhou Yi, the law department’s final exams were easy to pass—he wasn’t nervous at all. Instead, he pulled a cassette tape with a beautifully packaged cover from his pocket and waved it in front of Cheng Hao: “Before that, let me give you a gift.”

The cover showed Zhou Yi dressed in a style far ahead of his time—beautifully handsome. One glance struck Cheng Hao right in the sweet spot: “Your album cassette is already out?”

“Not yet. This is just a special early compilation I rushed together—many parts still aren’t finished. You helped me out so much; not giving you something would’ve been rude.”

Zhou Yi handed the cassette to Cheng Hao without hesitation: “Money? You don’t need it. A bag or watch? Too cliché. This feels more meaningful as a keepsake.”

“But you can’t leak it—at least not before my album is officially released.”

“Because if I fail, this might be the only unfinished cassette album of my life.”

In the year 2000, cassette albums had not yet been phased out—they were still one of the main ways songs spread.

Compared to CDs, which typically cost 20 to 30 yuan, cassettes cost only around ten yuan—lower price, lower usage cost, far more accessible to the masses.

Of course, pirated ones cost even less.

A cassette sold for seven or eight yuan, nine yuan—common. A CD at fifteen yuan? Also common.

Some unscrupulous pirates even cut CD prices down to ten yuan—didn’t care about quality, as long as you could hear something. It truly made every music company feel like a knife had been shoved up their ass.

“You’ve got some conscience—I didn’t waste my time helping you.”

Hearing it was the only unfinished cassette album, Cheng Hao happily accepted it, her face glowing with satisfaction: “So when’s your album coming out?”

“July 1st. The first day of summer vacation.”

Zhou Yi, full of confidence, waved his hand with the air of a man swallowing the world: “Just watch how I carve my way through this summer—the most fiercely competitive season in the music industry.”

Summer was the golden season for album releases—each year, it brought the highest traffic and the fiercest battles in the music world.

From May to September, if an album could break through this brutal competition, it stood a strong chance of dominating the market, riding its high rankings to rake in massive profits afterward.

He had to prepare for finals in June, so he couldn’t promote the album after release. After discussing with Warner’s general manager, they decided to release it on July 1st.

Although summer vacation start dates varied by region, July was unquestionably the beginning of summer—the perfect time to ignite fans’ purchasing desire.

Summer, after all, meant heat.

“Go for it! Crush Ren Xianqi and Xie Tingfeng!”

Watching the man’s confident expression, Cheng Hao grinned and joined in the chant.

As two generations of superstar kings at the turn of the century, Ren Xianqi and Xie Tingfeng were the iconic faces of Taiwan and Hong Kong respectively.

Ren Xianqi, who had swept Asia with “Xin Tai Ruan,” remained at his peak as he entered the millennium—earlier this year, he released his new album “Wei Ai Zou Tianya,” featuring two hit singles, “Chun Tian Hua Hui Kai” and “Si Bu Liao,” plus the explosive “Tian Ya.”

Xie Tingfeng, who had just appeared on the CCTV New Year’s Gala, had surpassed Ren Xianqi in popularity, replacing the fading Four Heavenly Kings as Hong Kong’s sole rival to him, with his song “Xie Xie Ni De Ai 1999” winning countless fans.

And the mainland? The mainland had nothing.

As these two gods clashed, mainland media could only split into two camps, cheering for one side or the other.

“No problem. Starting July, I’m the number one of the mainland music scene!”

Zhou Yi’s bold declaration before Cheng Hao drew no sneer—instead, he received her gentle, smiling encouragement:

“Good. Starting July, you’re the number one of the mainland music scene. So, Mr. Number One, what are your thoughts on your album going platinum?”

Cheng Hao mimicked an interviewer, fist clenched.

“Thoughts? No thoughts. If I must say something…”

Zhou Yi, acting wildly arrogant—or perhaps childishly so—stopped walking, tilted his head up at a forty-five-degree angle toward the sky: “There’s not a single one who can fight.”

Cheng Hao, playing the audience, clapped loudly and cheered, “Bravo!”

……………………………………………………

Three days later, May had passed; the blazing summer of June had officially arrived.

Zhou Yi returned alone to Peking University and received a message from Zhou Jianhui: the summer release schedules of every major record company.

Zhou Yi’s fading memories sharpened as he scanned the album titles and song names on the list.

The Chinese music scene in the year 2000 had officially entered an era of generational transition—this summer, it would witness a brutal, bloody battle.

In late May, Li Ming of Warner’s Singapore branch released his self-titled album “Li Ming,” with the electronic dance track “Yue Ye Yue You Ji” reaffirming his status as the Prince of Chinese Electronic Music;

On June 2, Sony Music’s ballad prince Zhang Xinzhe released his new album “Xin Yang,” led by the title track “Xin Yang”;

On June 5, Wang Lihong, another rising star under Sony Music alongside Zhang Xinzhe, released his new album “Yong Yuan De Di Yi Tian,” featuring a revamped version of “Long De Chuan Ren.”

To Warner’s marketing analysts, this man—who had won Best Singer and Best Album Producer at the Golden Melody Awards in 1999, becoming the youngest double winner in the award’s history—was unquestionably Zhou Yi’s fiercest rival.

Meanwhile, Warner had received another piece of news.

Xie Tingfeng, currently the most dominant singer in mainland China, had also scheduled his second new album for July 1st.

“Should we delay? Zhou Yi? Xie Tingfeng’s popularity is too high, and this is a Mandarin album.” After carefully analyzing Xie Tingfeng’s current advantages, Warner’s general manager Zhou Jianhui advised.

Even with the hype and Warner’s consistent media presence, Zhou Yi still had no foundation.

The youth market is only so big—if Xie Tingfeng takes more, others get less.

“No need. I have that confidence.”

Zhou Yi refused, determined to carve out his share in the summer release window.

June 9.

On the day Zhou Yi’s “Hua Tian Cuo” MV began filming, Sun Yanzi of Warner Music officially debuted with her self-titled album “Sun Yanzi.”