Chapter 92: Young Members of the National Team

“What? You’re coming to visit the set?”

March 9, morning, hotel of the Pink Lady production crew.

After receiving Zhou Yi’s call, Chen Hao, who had just woken up and washed her face, exclaimed in surprise: “Really?”

“Of course it’s real—would I lie to you? But it won’t be that soon; probably a month from now. The exact date depends on my agent’s schedule, since I still need to finish two songs and shoot an ad.”

Hua Na (Hong Kong) Company headquarters, recording area.

Zhou Yi, who had just finished part of the arrangement, was eating dates washed by Sun Yanzi, crunching a few bites before mumbling:

“A month from now? Are you sure? By then our crew should be shooting in Japan—what are you coming to visit for?”

After washing up and going through her simple skincare routine, Chen Hao patted her soft, pale cheeks in front of the bathroom mirror: “You can’t seriously fly all the way over just to visit?”

“Japan?”

“Yes, part of Pink Lady’s plot requires shooting in Japan. The director and producers want to take advantage of the current season and weather to finish those scenes in April.”

Back in the hotel room’s living area, Chen Hao double-checked her script—filled with annotations and summaries—to confirm:

“Then we’ll see about that. I just wanted to let you know it’s a possibility.”

Zhou Yi didn’t care much and casually mentioned he’d gradually sell off a few stocks over the next few months to generate cash flow before hanging up.

“Didn’t know you were into investing with someone?”

Sun Yanzi, who had been sitting beside him peeling an orange, smiled as she popped a segment into her mouth after Zhou Yi hung up: “Chen Hao—the female lead from your Hua Tian Cuo MV?”

“That was a long time ago. I met her right after I arrived in Beijing. It was right around the World Cup—I wanted to make a big move, and she was the only one who supported me.”

Zhou Yi spun his chair around, spat out the date pit, leaned back against the chair, and chuckled as he recalled: “After that, we were basically allies—right up to today.”

“Isn’t she an actress? Does she even understand this?”

“I know a bit, and she just trusts me completely—buys whatever I recommend. I can’t betray that trust. Especially since my first big profit doubled entirely thanks to her dipping into her savings—uh oh—”

Zhou Yi had just taken a segment of orange and put it in his mouth when a sudden, intense sourness surged through every nerve in his body, twisting his features in agony—

“Is it that sour?”

Sun Yanzi blinked, startled by his expression, then suspiciously examined the half-eaten orange in her hand.

She didn’t find it that extreme when she ate it.

“The doctor said my teeth are weak—I can’t handle this. You take it. I’m going back to arranging.”

Zhou Yi waved his hands frantically—he wanted to finish “The Lazy Song” and “Sad People Don’t Listen to Slow Songs” as soon as possible.

“Tch. Unappreciative.”

Sun Yanzi chewed the orange segment like nothing had happened, rolled her eyes, and didn’t say another word to disturb him, quietly enjoying this rare week-long vacation.

Nothing to think about, nothing to do—just eat, sleep, wake up, eat again, occasionally help Zhou Yi out so Hua Na Hong Kong wouldn’t think she was truly on holiday.

Life was downright heavenly.

Three days later, after completing the arrangement for “The Lazy Song,” Zhou Yi, seeing her idle state, simply dragged her into the MV he planned to shoot.

“?? What? I can’t dance.”

Sun Yanzi, who hated being assigned things, looked utterly confused.

“You don’t need to dance. Just nod up and down, side to side, to the beat. I’ll have Hua Na bring in a group of dancers wearing monkey masks to copy all my moves.”

Zhou Yi pointed to the sofa, unconcerned: “You know the lyrics—there’s a girl mentioned. You just stand up from the sofa, show your face, pinch your voice, and say ‘Oh my god, this is great.’ That’s it.”

Strictly speaking, the most addictive part of “The Lazy Song” isn’t the melody—it’s the MV.

The original version was remade by Bruno Mars in two days: a single continuous shot of him sitting in front of the camera, singing and twisting, while a group of people in sunglasses and monkey masks mimicked every move he made.

Low cost, no flashy gimmicks—just pure, unadorned simplicity.

Yet the final dance footage, synced with the melody, was strangely hypnotic.

Zhou Yi didn’t want to change this hypnotic, addictive MV style—he just planned to tweak it slightly to suit himself better.

In the original MV, the black guy who squealed “Oh my god, this is great” in a high-pitched voice was followed by the masked monkey dancers chasing him, symbolizing fun and absurdity.

He could replace it with himself singing the lyric: “Tomorrow morning, I’ll work out, do P90X, then meet a hot girl and embrace a better life.” Right after, Sun Yanzi—who had been nodding along on the sofa—would appear as the “hot girl.”

She walks over, says “You’re awesome,” then turns and walks away, prompting the masked monkey dancers to swarm after her.

This way, it ties into the lyrics, echoes the song’s meaning, and symbolizes a better life.

“Are you planning to release an English single? And shoot an MV?”

Intrigued by Zhou Yi’s concept, Sun Yanzi asked curiously.

“I think Jackie Chan’s movie will be a global hit. When Hua Na releases my soundtrack single with this MV, it’ll help establish my name.”

“At the very least, I need audiences to see my face in the MV and recognize me as a singer.”

In front of Sun Yanzi, Zhou Yi made no effort to hide his plans.

“The competition in Europe and America is nothing like the Chinese music scene—it’s far harsher. If I release a hit song without an MV, people might think the song is popular but I’m not.”

“As an Asian artist, to make a strong first impression on Western audiences, this MV setup is perfect.”

“It won’t necessarily blow them away—but at least they’ll remember me after seeing it.”

Hypnotic, addictive, with a strong rhythmic pulse—the entire MV centers on Zhou Yi’s face, constantly in the frame, with only the brief appearance of swaying Sun Yanzi and the group of masked monkey dancers surrounding him like stars around the moon.

Naturally, viewers’ eyes will fix on his face, deepening their impression of him as a singer.

In the music industry, being remembered by the public is crucial.

Just as Zhou Yi was urgently arranging this low-budget yet wildly hypnotic MV, his agent Qian Jiang rushed in with news about his new album’s song “Drifting Northward”—

“Yi, you said the hook needed a female singer with high vocal range and strong technique. Here’s the compiled list and their songs—listen and tell me who fits.”

Qian Jiang arrived with a stack of cassette tapes and handed Zhou Yi the list of female singers.

The list was long, featuring names from both sides of the Taiwan Strait and Hong Kong.

But what surprised Zhou Yi even more was seeing two future titans on the list—with equally bold bios:

Tan Jing: Winner of the Gold Award in the Popular Category at the 9th CCTV Youth Singer Television Grand Prix, 2000;

Zhou Peng: Silver Award winner in the Popular Category at the 9th CCTV Youth Singer Television Grand Prix, 2000.

At first Zhou Yi didn’t recognize who Zhou Peng was—she ranked just below Tan Jing—until he saw her photo—

Isn’t this Sa Dingding?

PS: Bruno Mars’s MV for this song had its bonus scene rejected by the review board for alleged vulgarity…6

(End of Chapter)