Chapter 634: Zhou · Bane of Evil · Yi

The reason Sun Yanzi said this was purely because this year's Spring Festival Gala's definition of "lip-syncing" was, to put it mildly, a bit ahead of its time.

In past years, some bold directors had also put up the banner of live singing and used it as a selling point to hype it up, but the final effect... well, let's just say it was passable at best.

Apart from Zhou Yi and a handful of other singers, the other big-name pop singers had all had little mishaps of one kind or another. Quite a few big-name actors and singers even lost their nerve on stage, directly diminishing what should have been a dazzling audio-visual effect.

Therefore, during the preparations for this year's Spring Festival Gala, many reporters wanted to know whether this edition would still adopt the live-singing format, but the staff and publicity people being interviewed didn't dare make any bold promises and could only keep playing it off with vague laughs.

Within CCTV itself, there had always been considerable disagreement over whether to go with live singing.

In the end, in pursuit of the best live effect and also to avoid the various mishaps that had occurred during live singing at previous Spring Festival Galas, this edition's Year of the Monkey Gala's chief director Yuan Dewang, after weighing all factors, ultimately chose lip-syncing.

Of course, being an old fox, he still knew how to cover for himself.

So, three days ago, Yuan Dewang made a rather astonishing remark during a media interview—"There is a qualitative difference between live singing and lip-syncing; this cannot be denied.

"But I believe that performing on a variety show by playing a pre-recorded track and mouthing along is actually live singing. Because the vocals are recorded in advance, the artistic effect of the broadcast will make viewers feel it's better.

"This isn't lip-syncing. The concept of lip-syncing is when someone else sings for you while you provide the visuals—that's what lip-syncing is.

"Concert-style programs don't allow playing pre-recorded tracks and mouthing along, but ours isn't a concert..."

The implication couldn't be clearer: This old man isn't doing any all-mic live singing this year!

The Spring Festival Gala isn't a concert—it's a super-large variety show watched by the entire nation. Who cares whether I mouth along or play a recording?

If I don't mouth along and something goes wrong on air, won't all the preparation and effort of the entire crew be wasted in an instant?

You reporters usually take money to write puff pieces, constantly singing praises—don't tell me you've actually convinced yourselves with all that flattery? Do you really think these big shots in the entertainment circle are that talented?

If they really were that good, so many of them wouldn't have embarrassed themselves at past Spring Festival Galas.

And precisely because of this, Jay Chou (Zhou Jielun)—the man voted into the Spring Festival Gala by online ballots—became the first person confirmed for this edition's Gala to have to lip-sync to a recording—

The reason was none other than that his singing had long been criticized as mumbling, and anti-fans had even taken to calling him a stutterer.

Stuttering normally is no big deal, but stuttering on the Spring Festival Gala stage would be a bit tone-deaf.

And compared with Jay Chou, who would be completely muted on the Gala stage, Sun Yanzi got slightly better treatment—she was only required to do a half-open mic, with backing tracks to be played, though her microphone volume would be turned down just a little bit.

The only one who wasn't restricted at all was Zhou Yi.

As the face of mainland pop music, Zhou Yi, though a latecomer to the industry, had—with his formidable vocal ability and his track record of never falling apart on big occasions—passed the tests of the China-Korea Song Festival and the Spring Festival Gala several times, and had become the production team's bottom line when claiming they pursued live singing.

Don't ask—ask and we'll tell you we do live singing. Don't believe it? Look at Zhou Yi; he sang two songs live.

"It's no wonder the bottom line keeps slipping. Now variety shows are lip-syncing for the sake of effect; in the future, won't even concerts follow Hong Kong and Taiwan in lip-syncing for effect?"

After staying a few more days in Shangrao, letting Zhou Yi spend more time with his parents, relatives, friends, and classmates, and getting through the Laba Festival, Qian Jiang only set off with Zhou Yi on the 31st to return to the capital. Chatting about the Spring Festival Gala on the road, he couldn't help but complain.

Zhou Yi, who was reading a newspaper, laughed: "Don't put it like that—it's not impossible."

Ten-beat E6 high note—salute to the legendary Big Water Buffalo!

In the future, many mainland passersby would get angry about Mayday's concert lip-syncing, but in reality, it was only because the established A-list singers of the mainland music scene still had some of their own principles when it came to concerts.

After all, back then many A-list singers might have news of lip-syncing at variety shows, but the few who could hold concerts—as long as they had a concert or fan meeting—would choose to sing properly, as singers.

Xue Zhiqian, when too sick with a high fever to sing, would not only refund tickets but even refund flights and hotels; Xu Song, Wang Sulong, and others made a point of admitting their vocals weren't great, but at their concerts they sang live—if you want to curse, go ahead—and if they forgot lyrics, they'd improvise on the spot.

Zhang Jie's concert prowess needs no further discussion; even Da Zhang Wei, a professional variety-show lip-syncer, would choose to sing live when guesting at concerts or fan meetings; and the eternal god of Chinese-language pop spared no expense on his concerts;

By comparison, Mayday's ticket-buying casual fans did come off a bit like suckers.

As for those many colonial-minded fans who keep harping on about Hong Kong, Taiwan, Japanese, and American singers—

In fact, the trend of singers lip-syncing blew in from Japan and the US to Hong Kong and Taiwan back in the seventies and eighties of the last century, and then from Hong Kong and Taiwan into the mainland.

Yes, that's right—the very same Japanese music scene that Japan-fans claim never lip-syncs and where lip-syncing is illegal.

As for the American music scene that America-fans hail as the world's number one, the big names who lip-sync are heavyweight after heavyweight.

"This topic is too sensitive. If a reporter asks, just pretend you didn't hear it. Given your current status, it's best not to touch it. As long as you sing live, that's enough."

After listing out all the latest sensitive entertainment-circle topics he had categorized and handing them to Zhou Yi, Qian Jiang instructed: "Right now the outside focus is all on your new song. I have to say, the ratings of Happy Camp are truly terrifying—those few lines of folk song you improvised have already spread everywhere."

His popularity had already exploded because of the crying-in-tears grievance incident, and after last Saturday's Happy Camp aired, the "Gardenia Bloom" that Zhou Yi had improvised live on the spot attracted plenty of eyeballs.

Many people even contacted Qian Jiang right away, trying to buy that song—which couldn't even be called a half-finished product—accurately speaking, they wanted Zhou Yi to finish writing it and then sell it to them.

Many folk-music fans were also thrilled after this song came out, immediately recalling the leaks from insiders who had watched the taping before Happy Camp aired.

As everyone knows, the last man who boasted of being a promoter of folk music had been roasted by Zhou Yi into fleeing the country to lay low, and still hasn't come back.

If Zhou Yi steps in, then our folk music might just be able to get a new head honcho.

The boss can always be replaced—it's just a matter of handing over the dragon-head staff.

"Folk music? How should I put it—I don't have any plans for that at the moment."

After arriving in the capital, Zhou Yi—who had been chased down by reporters lying in wait until he had no choice but to accept the interview—joked with a smile: "As everyone knows, I will never live up to my fans' expectations."

"..."

"..."

"..."

Qian Jiang nearly lost control of his expression, looking like he'd seen a ghost, while the reporters' eyes all lit up—

"What do you mean by that? You don't have any plans to release a folk song?"

"Schrödinger's intention."

"... Then Zhou Yi, what's your view on the widely circulated claim outside that you feel you've been wronged?"

"Wronged? I never suffer any grievance. If I have a grudge, I settle it on the spot."

"Jiang Wen said you're not human. Have the two of you had a falling out?"

"Oh, it's nothing—he just deserves to be hit. I'll drive a Ferrari over to his place later."

"???"

January 1, 2004, New Year's Day—a very auspicious date.

On his first day back in the capital, Zhou Yi didn't go to the Warner building first, nor did he report to CCTV—instead, he showed up at the courthouse with great fanfare—

He was there to appear as a witness.

Former Xinhua News Agency reporter Yuan Li was found with evidence of collusion with The Wall Street Journal, having taken money to smear Zhou Yi's reputation, and was also discovered to have already changed nationality;

Xu Qingliang, a well-known editor at Southern Weekly, although he had not taken money, was similarly sued by Warner; with a massive legal team in command, the court was still Zhou Yi's home ground—

The judge was an elder senior graduate of Peking University's Law Department.

In this patch of the Imperial Capital, when Zhou Yi was both in the right and wealthy, and also had connections, the public intellectuals who had been rampant online for two or three years were truly panicked this time.

The eloquence they prided themselves on had absolutely no effect on Zhou Yi; the so-called banner of freedom of speech could not even be raised before Zhou Yi—

"They have their freedom of speech, and I have the freedom to exercise my personal rights. I have not restricted them; I am simply teaching them a lesson..."

At the court entrance, facing the gathered reporters waiting for him, Zhou Yi, who had deliberately put on a wine-red trench coat, tilted his head, grinned, and said with flair: "I share no common ground with evil."