novelraw Chapter 16: The Smiling Tiger Calls to Deliver Resources?
Chapter 16: The Smiling Tiger Calls to Deliver Resources?
Song Ze tapped the edge of the mixing console twice with his index finger.
Press the answer button.
Simultaneously press the speakerphone/hands-free button.
"Hey, Ziliang."
"Little Song, did I disturb your rest?"
His tone carried three parts warmth and seven parts elder's concern.
"After we parted today, I listened to your song 'Sorrow' more than a dozen times. You are incredibly talented and a promising young talent."
Song Ze leaned back in his chair and flicked his fingers lightly in the air a few times.
The opening act was full of praise.
A standard way to start laying the groundwork in the workplace.
Sure enough, Wen Ziliang changed the subject.
"I'm not going to beat around the bush with you. I'm one of the co-producers of 'Eternal Love'. This drama is an S+ project this year, with an investment of 300 million yuan. I can speak to the producers and directors."
He spoke slowly, each word carrying weight.
"I really like your song 'Cool.' I've decided to use my connections to keep it as an OST."
Wen Ziliang continued to offer his chips.
"However, big productions have a very low margin for error, and the investors are extremely demanding of the singers. To ensure everything went smoothly, I personally contacted Sister Na from Huayu Records."
He paused for a second, letting the words "Sister Na" settle in the air.
"Sister Na happens to be free. She'll sing the chorus for you and give you a boost. Xiao Song, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The production team, the diva, and the OST—all three are working together. I've got this comeback all figured out for you."
The control room was so quiet that you could hear the hum of the air conditioning vents.
Song Ze stared at the fluctuating level meter on the mixing console.
Superb acting skills, brought to life.
He suddenly leaned forward, his back hunching dramatically, and brought his face close to the phone microphone.
"Oh my! Teacher Wen! President Wen!"
Zhang Juan trembled in fright at his shout.
Li Guobin's coffee cup wobbled, spilling a few more drops.
Song Ze cupped his hands in the air, his expression sincere.
"Sister Na can sing a duet with me? My worthless, lousy voice is hardly worthy of sharing the stage with a diva! Teacher Wen, you are so kind—"
He took a deep breath and spoke even faster.
"But Teacher Wen! What a coincidence! Didn't we just bump into each other?"
Wen Ziliang's voice trailed off.
Song Ze slapped his thigh hard, his voice filled with heartache and indignation.
"Li Guobin, the music director of 'Three Lives Three Worlds,' is sitting right next to me! He's staying up all night and insists on keeping me here to adjust the sound tracks."
Li Guobin stared wide-eyed, pointed to his nose, and opened his mouth halfway, unable to utter a sound.
"Not only that! Teacher Lin Shishi has also been invited, and she's locked up in a soundproof cabin."
Song Ze's voice was even louder, filled with grief and indignation.
"Director Li made a tough statement: if this duet version isn't recorded tonight, nobody is allowed to leave."
Inside the soundproof cabin, Lin Shishi held a microphone and watched Song Ze outside gesticulating wildly and spouting nonsense through the glass, her face expressionless.
Song Ze sighed heavily and poured out his grievances into the microphone, his tone so sincere it was heartbreaking.
"Teacher Wen, look at the mess this has made! Why don't you call Director Li now and ask him to get rid of Lin Shishi and replace her with your Sister Na?"
There was silence on the other end of the phone.
Li Guobin stood to the side, not daring to even breathe loudly.
He certainly didn't dare to respond to that.
Lin Shishi's backers are deeply entrenched in capital, and no matter how much influence Wen Ziliang has, he cannot openly offend her.
One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.
A full five seconds passed.
Wen Ziliang's dry, forced laughter came from the speaker.
"Haha...I see."
The confident air he had just exuded vanished silently.
"Since Director Li is personally overseeing this, and Shishi is here too... then this setup is top-notch. Xiao Song, you focus on recording. I won't disturb you any longer."
"Keep it up, I believe in you."
beep - beep - beep -
The call was ended cleanly and decisively.
Song Ze sat in an ergonomic chair.
The flattered and obsequious smile that had been on his face vanished completely in an instant.
He casually moved his phone to the corner of the table, straightened his back again, placed his hands on the mixing console, and his facial muscles were cold and hard, without the slightest extra fluctuation.
Li Guobin watched from the side, his scalp tingling with unease.
He listened to the entire exchange on the phone just now.
He knew Wen Ziliang better than anyone else—a notorious smiling tiger in the industry, seemingly gentle and refined on the surface, but with a ruthless and cunning nature behind the scenes.
Song Ze's banter on the phone, seemingly obsequious and vulgar, was actually a veiled attack on Wen Ziliang's weaknesses, leaving him powerless to retaliate.
Was that guy's snobbish, vulgar behavior at Yujingtai just an act?
Li Guobin quietly took half a step back, completely clearing out the space for the main control position.
Song Ze pressed the button on the intercom microphone.
"Teacher Lin."
His voice was transmitted into the soundproof cabin through headphones.
"The noise's gone. Time to get to work."
Lin Shishi nodded on the other side of the glass.
She didn't ask who had called, nor did she ask why Song Ze's tone when he answered the phone and his expression after hanging up were completely different.
She simply tightened her headphones and stood in front of the microphone.
Song Ze started the first track.
The prelude to the bamboo flute played out in the monitor speakers.
Cold and clean.
Song Ze pressed the intercom button to call a halt.
"Wait a moment."
Lin Shishi looked up at him through the glass.
"Your pronunciation in the first verse is too tight."
Song Ze stared at the waveform on the screen without looking up.
Don't overemphasize the word "gradually" in "the night grows cooler." Loosen it a little and let your breath carry the last syllable of the word.
Lin Shishi was silent for two seconds.
No one had ever instructed her in this way before.
She was used to the producer standing outside the soundproof booth, giving a thumbs up and saying, "Great, let's do it again," or the recording engineer marking pitch lines on the project file and having her sing again using the corrected curve.
Every word Song Ze spoke was about controlling his emotions.
She moved the microphone half an inch closer to her mouth and started again.
"As night falls and the air grows cooler, fallen petals turn to frost—"
Song Ze's fingers made slight adjustments to the faders on the mixing console.
Lin Shishi's raw vocals, processed through the effects chain he had just rebuilt, produced a clean and transparent sound coming from the monitor speakers, with every detail of the breaths and transitions clearly visible.
He didn't call a stop. Lin Shishi continued singing.
"You gaze into the distance, until all the twilight fades away—"
"stop."
Song Ze called a halt for the second time.
"That line is fine," he said, "but the next verse, 'The cool night sky makes my longing for you flow like a river'—note that the chorus isn't an climax, it's a conclusion."
Lin Shishi frowned.
She had only had the song for less than half an hour, and hadn't even had time to go through the complete score. She was relying entirely on the impression she had built up from the intro that Song Ze had played earlier to find the feeling for it.
The chorus usually pushes the emotions up, but Song Ze wanted her to tone it down.
"What do you mean?" she asked, pressing the intercom button.
"A person who is utterly despondent won't cry their heart out. She doesn't even have the strength to cry," Song Ze said. "The emotion in the chorus doesn't surge upwards, it sinks downwards. You hold your breath on the words 'night,' don't let the last note rise, let it fall."
Lin Shishi took off her headphones and looked at Song Ze through the glass.
She thought of the sycophantic dog in the restaurant who fawned over Wen Ziliang, a person who was completely different from the one in front of her.
She put her headphones back on.
This time, she didn't push the chorus up; instead, she followed Song Ze's advice, holding her breath and letting the final note fall naturally.
In the control room, Zhang Juan covered her mouth.
Li Guobin leaned against the corner of the wall, arms crossed, his expression a mix of shock and resentment.
He'd been an arranger for over a decade and had supervised countless recording sessions, but he'd never seen a producer instruct a singer in this way before.
It's not about pitch, it's not about rhythm, it's about the shape of emotion.
And Lin Shishi actually followed his instructions, adjusting each step one by one.
On the third take, Lin Shishi sang the last word.
The overtones of the final note slowly dissipated in the soundproof cabin.
She didn't take off her headphones, stood there with her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling slightly.
No one spoke in the control room.
Song Ze glanced at the waveform on the screen, then at Lin Shishi inside the soundproof cabin.
He pressed the intercom button.
Zhang Juan suddenly handed her phone to Song Ze.
The screen displays a newly received WeChat message from Wen Ziliang.
"Did the recording go smoothly? I'd like to come to the studio in person tomorrow to listen to it."