Chapter 51

This circle works this way—the total resources are fixed.

If you don’t fight for it, how do you earn your status? How do you make money? How do you get a voice?

A star who’s truly indifferent wouldn’t have entered the entertainment industry in the first place.

Those who love acting can go into theater; those who love singing can become gala singers who perform only at year-end shows and ceremonies.

These all have dedicated training pipelines.

Seeing Zhou Yi fall silent, Qian Jiang assumed he was intimidated by Sun Nan, the current top male singer on the mainland, and hurriedly added: “Sun Nan himself is proof—he was groomed through this pipeline, which is why his vocal skills are excellent.”

But he wanted fame and big money, so he left and went to Hong Kong. Only then, after Liu Huan gradually stepped back, did he seize Liu’s position and become number one.

He could do it on the first day—why can’t you do it on the fifteenth? Haven’t you ever heard the saying, ‘Are kings and generals born of noble blood?’

Qian Jiang, who had once roamed the peak years of Hong Kong’s entertainment industry, clearly had a fierce edge.

Coming back to himself, Zhou Yi listened to his agent’s rambling pep talk and couldn’t help but smirk: “Uncle Qian, you’re overthinking—I’m not afraid of him. I was just lost in thought for a moment.”

“I have no problem singing the theme and ending songs for ‘Young Bao Qingtian.’ Just notify me when it’s time.”

On their own, the theme and ending songs are merely decent works by mainland standards—but ‘Young Bao Qingtian’ is going to become a massive hit.

The phenomenal ratings of ‘My Fair Princess’ lifted Dong Liang Huoche, who sang ‘Dang.’ Why shouldn’t I use ‘Young Bao Qingtian’s’ future popularity to climb over Sun Nan on the mainland?

After all, having your resources taken means a signal.

Why haven’t any of the mainland’s future male singers been able to dethrone Sun Nan as number one? Isn’t it simply because they can’t compete for resources?

In terms of peak popularity, Sha Baoliang after ‘An Xiang’ wasn’t any less powerful.

“Oh, by the way, there’s one more thing.”

As Zhou Yi was about to get out of the car with Cheng Hao, who had obediently stayed silent throughout, Qian Jiang quickly spoke up.

Zhou Yi, halfway up, sat back down and looked at him in confusion: “What else? You didn’t go and snatch Liu Huan’s entire resource pool for me, did you?”

“...I’d love to, but unfortunately, Liu Huan’s status is still beyond your reach, even if he’s already showing signs of slipping into second-tier status.”

Qian Jiang choked out this helpless reply.

At Liu Huan’s level, where he’s already moving toward an artist’s path, the usual music industry rankings no longer apply to him.

“I just want to discuss with you—should we extend the signing event by a few more days?”

Pulling out today’s signing data from his suit pocket, Qian Jiang excitedly said: “Today’s data shows your album sold 2,835 copies, setting a new single-day sales record for signing events in Beijing.”

“If we add a few more days in every city, with the promotional momentum, I think your mainland sales could surpass the company’s projections—short-term, break 850,000; over its lifecycle, hit 1.2 million isn’t impossible.”

“That many?”

Even Zhou Yi himself was stunned—he’d been running nonstop at signing events and hadn’t paid attention to his album’s mainland sales figures.

This is legitimate sales data—are you kidding?

His album was released on July 1 in mainland China. In its first week, thanks to exceptional song quality, it hit 110,000 sales and climbed the charts. After the second week’s word-of-mouth surge, combined sales zoomed past 400,000.

But this upward momentum was about to stall—two weeks had passed, and rampant piracy had arrived.

The “Happy Worship” and “Can’t Help Falling in Love” playing everywhere Cheng Hao mentioned were the work of pirates.

By the last time he checked sales data on August 23—roughly two months—thanks to his sweep of Taiwan’s music scene and the marketing battle, the ‘Zhou Yi’ album had sold over 720,000 copies on the mainland and over 100,000 in Hong Kong.

Zhou Yi figured this was probably the limit.

Piracy’s impact was too massive—even Warner had no solution. After all, blocking someone’s livelihood is like killing their family—the pirates would teach you a lesson.

So when Qian Jiang casually dropped that mainland sales might hit 850,000 in the short term, Zhou Yi was genuinely startled.

“You have to thank your fellow provincials. According to the data, the province contributing the most to legitimate album sales is Jiangxi.”

“Then Beijing and Guangdong.”

Qian Jiang spread his hands, gesturing Zhou Yi to look at the numbers: “Let’s be honest—Jiangxi really is populous. Especially now, many Jiangxi people go to big cities like Guangdong and Shanghai to work, and many of them have made money.”

“Their mobility between cities has helped spread your album’s reputation in wealthier provinces.”

“...”

To be fair, apart from everything else, Jiangxi really is a populous province—full of both the poor and the rich.

As a Jiangxi native, Zhou Yi truly owed gratitude to his fellow provincials, whose hometown ties were still strong in this era.

Seeing Jiangxi ranked first by just a 0.3% margin, Zhou Yi immediately decided—

“Add it! Add it all!”

“Risk it all—motorcycle to sports car!”

He handled every aspect of this album himself—lyrics, composition, vocals, producer—taking the highest possible artist share.

All of it was cold hard cash.

This was the final glow of the album era—he had to grab as much as he could.

On August 25, Zhou Yi, who had planned to rest, immediately launched his nationwide fan signing tour.

With Warner’s promotional support, the ‘Zhou Yi’ album’s legitimate sales, despite piracy’s pressure, actually rebounded, selling tens of thousands more than originally projected.

Zhou Yi, with his singing, dancing, and sunny good looks, ignited a personal storm across the mainland promotional period—

Li Yuan, then deputy editor-in-chief of the ‘Beijing Youth Daily,’ published an article titled ‘“Heart Soft” Among the Young Generation’:

“‘Happy Worship,’ echoing through every street and alley, perfectly matches the music tastes of millennials: fresh, fashionable, catchy.”

“Zhou Yi has done what his predecessor Ren Xianqi once did—bringing a whirlwind to the Chinese-language music scene.”

“The status of ‘Happy Worship’ among today’s youth is probably the same as ‘Heart Soft’ once held among our generation.”

“In fact, we may not yet be at the peak of ‘Happy Worship’s’ influence. When the students and young adults who grew up with ‘Happy Worship’ enter society and become its backbone, Zhou Yi’s influence will reach its zenith...”

The ‘Daily News’ went further, describing Zhou Yi’s dual success in mainland and Taiwan markets as a cultural symbol—

“This summer, the Jiangxi-born singer Zhou Yi added a bold stroke to the entire Chinese-language music scene with his unique musical style.”

“He conquered Taiwan, the so-called golden-age holy land of Chinese-language music.”

“On the mainland, his debut album sold more in just two months than another well-known mainland singer Pu Shu sold in an entire year last year.”

“Therefore, I prefer to call Zhou Yi a symbol—a rising musical symbol of the mainland music scene.”

“His emergence signals the vigorous rise of a new force in our country’s music industry...”

Yeah, that last part was pure official rhetoric.

Zhou Yi, still drenched in menthol oil to stay alert, finished reading the newspaper pages and tossed them aside, turning his attention to the documents on the coffee table.

They were materials delivered by his agent, Qian Jiang.

In September, having dominated Taiwan’s charts, he faced a coordinated strike from three artists—

Liang Jingru, a minor artist under Rock Records, released her second solo album ‘Courage.’ The title track ‘Courage,’ backed by Rock’s promotion, climbed into the top five within a month and was now challenging Zhou Yi’s number-one spot.”

Andy Lau, under BMG, released his album ‘A Man’s Love.’ The lead single ‘It’s Not a Crime to Cry’ also broke into the top ten, with both critical acclaim and sales exploding.

Li Wen, the queen, brought her international production team and dropped her new album ‘True Lover YOU&ME.’ The lead single ‘True Lover,’ fiery and Latin-flavored, was charging hard, aiming straight for number one.