Huayu: A master director who debuted as a singer

Chapter 8: A Series of Setbacks

Macau, Avenida Almeida Ribeiro.

Zheng Hui walked into an electronics store and pointed to the Sony WM-EX501 on the counter.

"Um, take it out and try it out."

The shop owner, a middle-aged man, was wiping the glass counter when he looked up at Zheng Hui and reached out to take out the silver-gray Walkman.

"This is a great product. It has a recording function and a stereo microphone, so you can record songs or lectures. It's the new model, and Sony is great—the sound quality is impeccable."

Zheng Hui held it in his hand and weighed it; the metal casing was cool, and the buttons had a crisp, tactile feedback.

He pulled a wad of cash from his pocket: "Take it, and get some blank tapes too."

Back in the cassette room, Zheng Hui drew the curtains and locked the door. He put the blank cassette tape into the cassette player and closed the lid.

Zheng Hui took a sip of warm water to moisten his throat. He lowered his breath and focused his energy in his dantian.

Press the record button with your finger, and the tape starts spinning.

"Since I'm different from the world, then let me be different..."

The voice burst forth from his throat, steady, precise, and clear. Ten songs in just over half an hour.

Zheng Hui didn't pause or re-record. Every song was completed in one take, with perfect pitch, rhythm, and emotion, as precise as a pre-programmed machine.

After recording the last song, "Proud Youth," he pressed the stop button.

Rewind, listen.

Although the sound from the tape was somewhat rough due to the rudimentary equipment, its penetrating power and captivating quality were completely preserved.

Zheng Hui nodded and took out the cassette tape.

He recorded several more tapes and wrote several manuscripts of lyrics and scores.

2 PM, Macao General Post Office.

Zheng Hui put one of the documents into a kraft paper envelope, sealed it with glue, and pressed it firmly. He wrote his name and address in the recipient's section, and also wrote himself as the sender.

Registered mail.

The clerk took the envelope, weighed it, affixed the stamp, and stamped it.

A red postmark was heavily stamped on the seal, clearly marked "1998.07.15".

This is the most basic yet most effective means of copyright protection in this era. As long as the envelope remains unopened, the postmark serves as proof of its authenticity.

After leaving the post office, he turned and went into the Macau Notary Public Office.

At that time, Macau still followed the Portuguese legal system and did not have a dedicated copyright bureau, but the notarized documents from the notary office also had legal effect.

"Get the documents notarized."

Zheng Hui handed over another set of lyrics and sheet music, along with two cassette tapes.

The notary was Portuguese, and a Chinese translator sat next to him. The procedure was very complicated: filling out forms, checking documents, and paying fees.

An hour later, the notary stamped the document with wax, signed his name in Portuguese, and locked it in the notary office's filing cabinet.

Zheng Hui received a notarized document stamped with an official seal.

"All done."

……

The following morning, at Shun Tak Centre in Sheung Wan.

Zheng Hui followed the flow of people out of the checkpoint. The streets were teeming with people, and double-decker buses with "GG" signs roared past.

Zheng Hui hailed a red taxi.

"Where are you going, handsome?"

"Karei Building, PolyGram".

……

At the PolyGram Records reception desk, Zheng Hui gave his name, and the receptionist made a phone call, inviting him in.

The corridor was piled high with cardboard boxes, all sealed with tape. Several employees hurried past, carrying file folders, their faces showing a chaotic anxiety.

The door to Mr. Chen's office, the A&R (Artists and Productions) manager, was open.

The manager, who was nearly forty, was flipping through a thick schedule, and the ashtray on his desk was piled high with cigarette butts.

"sit."

Mr. Chen pointed to the chair opposite him without looking up.

Zheng Hui sat down, placed the cassette tape on the table, and pushed it over.

"Manager Chen, these are my demos, ten original Mandarin songs."

Mr. Chen put down his pen, picked up the tape, and listened to it once.

"The song is good, very energetic."

His gaze lingered on Zheng Hui's face for a few seconds: "His appearance is indeed outstanding, tall and handsome, the type that the market likes now."

Just as Zheng Hui was about to speak, Mr. Chen sighed, leaned back in his chair, and the chair creaked.

"but…"

As soon as those two words were uttered, Zheng Hui knew something was wrong.

"The company is currently being acquired by Universal, and the handover process is in full swing. Everything is in chaos. All new projects, especially the new talent program, have been frozen."

Mr. Chen pointed to the cardboard boxes outside the door: "See those boxes? I don't even know if I'll still be sitting in this seat next month."

He paused, picked up the cigarette pack on the table, took out a cigarette, and tapped it on the table.

"Moreover, we are more cautious about Mandarin songs. The Hong Kong market is still dominated by Cantonese songs."

Even without the acquisition, according to the rules, newcomers would spend half a year performing at commercial events with their seniors to gauge audience reaction and popularity before releasing a single to test the waters.

"You're very sincere in bringing ten songs like this, but for us, the risk is too concentrated. The production and promotion costs of an album are at least several hundred thousand, and we've seen plenty of cases where it's thrown into the water and doesn't even make a sound."

Mr. Chen lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and exhaled a smoke ring.

"Okay, we'll keep the demo for now. We have a few singers currently collecting songs. If they like any of them, the company will buy them outright. As for signing you as a singer... forget about it this year."

Zheng Hui looked at the other party, knowing that further discussion would be pointless. He hadn't even offered to cover the production costs himself. Under these circumstances, even if the product was produced, there would be no promotional resources, making it all in vain.

He stood up and reached for the cassette tape on the table.

"Thank you for your time, Manager Chen, but I only plan to sing this song myself."

Mr. Chen was taken aback; he hadn't expected the young man to refuse so decisively. He flicked his cigarette ash and didn't try to stop him.

"Good luck."

……

After leaving PolyGram, Zheng Hui looked at the map and headed straight for the next stop.

Warner Music.

In contrast to the chaos at PolyGram, Warner's offices appeared orderly, with posters of Aaron Kwok and Sammi Cheng hanging on the walls.

In the reception room, a short-haired female executive pushed a contract in front of Zheng Hui.

"We are very satisfied with your appearance, and we have listened to your songs. You have potential, and Warner Music is willing to sign you."

The female executive spoke with the arrogance typical of large corporations.

Zheng Hui picked up the contract and opened it.

Page 1, full agency contract, eight years.

Zheng Hui raised an eyebrow and continued scrolling down.

In the revenue sharing section: Years 1-3, the company receives 90% and the artist receives 10%.

In the 4th–6th year, 80%/20%.

In the 7th–8th year, 70%/30%.

"One-nine split?" Zheng Hui looked up at the female executive and asked.

The female executive said expressionlessly, "This is the price for new employees. The company has to invest resources in training, packaging, and promotion, all of which are costs. For the first three years, you're basically paying off a debt."

Zheng Hui didn't retort and continued watching.

Copyright: Artists may submit demos, but the album selection rights belong to the company. The first album must include 3 Cantonese love songs designated by the company.

Image management: Company-designated stylist, hairstylist, and clothing. Unauthorized client placements for male celebrities or film/television projects are prohibited.

Budget for the debut album: HK$500,000 (including one music video), but it must be primarily in Cantonese.

Zheng Hui closed the contract and pushed the stack of papers back.

"What? You think the conditions are too harsh?"

The female executive picked up her coffee and took a sip: "Young man, think long-term. So many people want to get into Warner Music, but few can. If you can persevere, what's a little money?"

Zheng Hui stood up: "An eight-year contract of servitude, and I still have to sing songs I don't like. Let someone else have this good fortune."

He turned to leave, but then he heard the female executive's voice behind him: "Once you leave this room, other companies will only offer worse terms."

Zheng Hui didn't stop walking; he opened the door and went out.

……

2 PM, EMI Records.

A&R from EMI is a very stylish woman with short hair, red lips, and a strong perfume.

She kept frowning after listening to Zheng Hui's live a cappella performance.

"stop."

Zheng Hui stopped talking.

The woman shook her head: "It's too dry."

"Dry?"

"Your song is so positive, talking about dreams and perseverance."

The woman curled her lip: "Young people these days don't buy into that. What we want is... something psychedelic, something electronic. Like Kelly Chen, standing on stage, under the lights, she needs to have a sense of distance, a cool and sexy aura."

She stood up and circled around Zheng Hui.

"You have a great physique, with well-defined muscles. How about this, Kelly Chen has a concert next month and needs a few backup dancers. You can go be a backup dancer first, get some exposure. Once you gain popularity, we can talk about releasing an album."

Zheng Hui looked at her and said, "I'm here to be a singer, not to dance."

"Even singers have to start from the bottom." The woman reached out to touch Zheng Hui's arm. "In this industry, being too eager for quick success won't work."

Motivational songs? Those are for students; they don't have the spending power. We're targeting urban white-collar workers, understand?

Zheng Hui took a step back, avoiding her hand: "It seems we have different ideologies."