Chapter 37: Zhou Yi, I

In the summer of 2000, competition among domestic singers intensified due to the struggling record market.

Rock Records, which had once dominated the industry, was on the verge of losing its throne due to the economic crisis, but ironically, at the start of the year, both of its flagship artists, Ren Xianqi and Liu Ruo, released albums that surpassed everyone’s expectations.

Especially Liu Ruo.

If Ren Xianqi’s album at the turn of the century merely maintained his status as a king of pop, Liu Ruo’s album sent shockwaves through the entire music scene—

The reason? Simply because the lead single from Liu Ruo’s album was titled: “Hou Lai.”

Even by June, thanks to the terrifying popularity of “Hou Lai,” Liu Ruo’s album continued to generate massive profits for Rock Records.

On the music charts, buoyed by the power of “Hou Lai,” Liu Ruo claimed the top spot, looking down upon all rivals.

For an entire half-year, countless challengers—men and women alike—came one after another, yet no one could dislodge “Hou Lai,” not even Rock Records’ own top artist, Ren Xianqi.

Precisely because such a giant monster had consumed a large portion of the market share, Warner Music’s expectations for its two new artists were not high.

Sun Yanzi and Zhou Yi—though Zhou Jianhui had high hopes for them—he set relatively pragmatic goals for their debut albums:

Due to Warner’s full control and the involvement of industry elites like Li Sisong and his brothers in tailoring her album, Zhou Jianhui set Sun Yanzi’s sales target for the Taiwan market at 130,000 to 150,000 copies;

As for Zhou Yi’s new album, Zhou Jianhui would lower the target slightly.

After all, this album was entirely his own work; Warner merely acted as a wallet.

Even though over half of Warner’s internal music producers gave positive feedback during the listening session, Zhou Jianhui still cautiously set a target of 100,000 to 120,000 copies—

Selling that many would count as a victory; selling over 150,000 would warrant a celebration.

The current Mandarin music market was nothing like the past; the days of albums selling hundreds of thousands or even millions were gone.

It was common for debut albums to sell only a few thousand or tens of thousands of copies, and even some veteran singers’ albums sold only a pitiful few tens of thousands—still, that was across mainland China, Hong Kong, and Taiwan.

Behind the scenes, record companies weren’t even considering whether they’d break even—they were calculating how much they’d lose.

Now, any album selling tens of thousands of copies was an absolute treasure for any company.

“Zhou Yi, what’s your own sales expectation for this album?”

On the MV set, dressed in ancient costume, Cheng Hao sidled up to the man, glanced around at Warner’s staff, and whispered quietly.

“Me? I don’t know—maybe two or three hundred thousand.”

Just finished shooting his ancient costume scenes and changed back into a white T-shirt and jeans, Zhou Yi gave a number that would shock Warner’s executives to the core.

“That much?”

“Is that a lot? I’m only counting Taiwan sales here.”

Seeing Cheng Hao’s stunned expression, Zhou Yi chuckled: “Add in Hong Kong, Singapore, Malaysia, and other markets—I’d dare to dream of over a million total sales, let alone the mainland market.”

In this era, only a handful of record companies had the capacity to open multiple distribution channels. The decline of the traditional record industry in Taiwan and Hong Kong had drawn major players’ attention to the gradually opening mainland market.

Sure, piracy was rampant on the mainland, but so was the population.

It was just like that famous joke: if every person in the country donated me just a few yuan…

Haven’t you noticed? Even Zhang Xueyou, the last shining star of PolyGram and the final sales face among the Four Kings, now needs the mainland market to reach a million sales.

“So if I’m the female lead in your MV, I’ll get some of that luck?”

Though she thought the number unrealistic, Cheng Hao didn’t say it aloud; instead, she teased with a smile: “Your MV feels almost like a short film—I’ve never worked so hard on a movie set, not even when I filmed with Liu Ye’s crew.”

As an actress who had starred in films, Cheng Hao could easily tell the difference between a well-funded shoot and a shoestring one.

“That’s why I say one album decides your fate. These days, production costs keep rising—if this album flops, I’m out.”

After joking along with Cheng Hao’s words, Zhou Yi nodded toward the crew nearby handling the footage: “But luckily, none of this is my money.”

“...”

Warner Music suddenly gained a “rich kid” image in Cheng Hao’s mind.

Just then, Xu Weifeng and Song Ke, Warner’s mainland representatives, pushed open the door of the set and arrived, watched by everyone.

Xu Weifeng, graduated from Peking University’s English Department, former founder of Longsheng Entertainment, now General Manager of Warner Maitian;

Song Ke, graduate of Tsinghua University’s Environmental Engineering Department, former founder of Maitian Music, now Deputy General Manager and Head of Music Production at Warner Maitian.

“Junior, how’s it going? Has the professional team Warner assigned you been working smoothly? If anything feels off, just tell me.”

Upon meeting, Xu Weifeng, though not familiar, beamed warmly: “Song Ke, come here—I’ll introduce you. This is Zhou Yi, the mainland musical genius Zhou Jianhui told me about last week. He’s my junior, also from Peking University.”

Xu Weifeng, with thinning hair, took on the role of introducer.

As the businessman who brokered the deal between Warner and Maitian Music, he had learned of Zhou Yi’s existence shortly after Warner officially partnered with Maitian Music.

He personally oversaw Zhou Yi’s trip back to the mainland to shoot the “Hua Tian Cuo” MV, and Zhou Yi’s mainland distribution channels for his debut album were inherited from Maitian Music’s existing network.

“Thank you, Senior, for your trouble.”

As Cheng Hao was still flustered, Zhou Yi responded smoothly, extending his hand: “This is Cheng Hao, my good friend and the female lead in this ‘Hua Tian Cuo’ MV.”

“Mr. Xu, Mr. Song, hello.”

Cheng Hao quickly recovered and, without time to change out of her costume, greeted them while still in ancient attire: “Sorry, I just finished filming.”

Her composed demeanor carried a faint echo of an ancient noblewoman.

“No problem, no problem—it’s our fault for showing up uninvited.”

Wearing glasses, Song Ke chuckled: “Brother Zhou, regarding your new album’s mainland release, all distribution channels have been arranged.

“Now it’s about promotion—we can handle radio stations in Beijing and surrounding cities, but TV stations… based on my latest information, it’s very difficult.”

Song Ke paused, then continued: “But after our efforts, we’ve secured permission to submit three songs from your album for chart competition. You need to pick three songs to submit.”

“‘Kuai Le Chong Bai,’ ‘Bu De Bu Ai,’ ‘Gei Wo Yi Shou Ge De Shi Jian.’”

After a brief moment of thought, Zhou Yi named three songs.

Although he had poured the most effort into “Hua Tian Cuo,” it simply wouldn’t work for chart competition.

After all mainland distribution channels were finalized, on June 16, Zhou Yi finished his final exams. He also completed filming the MV with Cheng Hao and handed all footage over to Warner.

At the same time, Warner Music exploded that day—

New singer Sun Yanzi officially debuted, and her self-titled album “Sun Yanzi” became a massive hit!

As Zhou Yi walked out of the exam hall and saw Cheng Hao waiting at the gate to take him to dinner, he received a call from Sun Yanzi—

“Zhou Yi! I’m famous! Do you know how many copies my album sold in one week?! You won’t believe it!”