Huayu: A master director who debuted as a singer

Chapter 79 First Rehearsal Review

The plane landed at Beijing Capital International Airport. As soon as the terminal doors opened, a blast of cold air hit them. Zheng Hui wrapped his coat tighter around himself and Lin Dashan behind him quickly walked out of the arrival hall.

Li Zongming was already waiting outside. When he saw the two of them come out, he quickly opened the car door.

"Boss, you must be tired from your journey."

Zheng Hui got into the car and said to Lin Dashan, who was in the driver's seat, "Let's go back to the hotel."

The car started and merged into the traffic flow of Beijing.

Li Zongming turned around from the passenger seat and said, "The hotel has been arranged. It's the same VIP building as last time, and the same room as before has been reserved for you."

"We've prepared a humidifier for you in the room. We'll be connecting with the houses in a few days, and we're worried your throat might be sore."

Zheng Hui hummed in response, but didn't say anything more. After more than a month of intense promotion and performances, even with his energy boost, he now just wanted to keep quiet in private after talking and singing so much.

Li Zongming continued, "Boss, I've cleared the next two days for you. There are no plans for you. Take a good rest and get some rest."

"At 9 a.m. on the 23rd, I went to CCTV's Studio One for a rehearsal. This was the first major screening of all the programs together, so it was very important."

Zheng Hui said, "Understood."

This rehearsal was essentially a closed-book exam. All the actors had to be present, and the directing team and judging panel would score them on the spot, potentially eliminating some immediately.

Back at the hotel, Zheng Hui took a shower and lay down on the bed, not wanting to think about anything, and slept soundly for a long time.

When he woke up the next day, he didn't go out; he just stayed in his room reading.

Lin Dashan flipped through the professional books he had bought from Haidian Book City, one by one.

He read through everything from film theory to script structure, not slowly, but very carefully.

He already had this theoretical knowledge in his mind. But in the era before the information explosion of the Internet, he chose to reread and understand these books in the most primitive way, while also killing time.

During this time, Gao Yuanyuan called once, her voice filled with joy.

"Mr. Zheng Hui, you're back in Beijing? I saw the newspaper. Congratulations on your successful concert."

"Yes, thank you." Zheng Hui's reply was polite yet distant.

"Um—are you free? I'd like to treat you to dinner as a way of thanking you for taking care of me during the filming."

"I can't right now. I need to prepare for the Spring Festival Gala rehearsals, and time is very tight," Zheng Hui replied directly.

"Oh—okay then, you go ahead and do your thing, I won't bother you anymore." The voice on the other end of the phone sounded a little disappointed.

After hanging up the phone, Zheng Hui put it aside and continued reading.

Li Zongming's reminder and his own experience made him realize that unnecessary trouble should be nipped in the bud.

After resting for two days, it was January 23rd.

Zheng Hui got up early in the morning, tidied himself up in front of the mirror, and Li Zongming and Lin Dashan were already waiting at the door.

"Boss, the car is ready, let's go."

"Walk."

The atmosphere in the car was somewhat heavy on the way to CCTV.

Li Zongming repeatedly reminded him, "Boss, there are a lot of people around today, all sorts of people are here. We're newcomers, so we should talk less and observe more, be polite to everyone, and avoid causing trouble."

Lin Dashan, while driving, also glanced at Zheng Hui in the rearview mirror.

"Boss, shall I go in with you?"

Zheng Hui shook his head: "You can't go in, and you don't need to. Nothing will happen. You and Zong Ming can wait outside. I'll go in by myself."

The car stopped in front of the CCTV building, and Zheng Hui showed his identification.

The security personnel at the entrance took his ID, carefully checked his face against the photo, and then scanned him with a metal detector before waving him through.

Stepping into the CCTV building, the atmosphere inside is noticeably different.

In the corridor, staff members could be seen rushing around, carrying walkie-talkies or program schedules, shouting as they walked.

"Dance Team B! Hurry to dressing room number three!"

"Lights! Lights, double-check the track of the follow spot!"

No one was chatting; everyone's face was tense and serious.

A young director wearing a headset saw Zheng Hui and jogged over.

"Mr. Zheng Hui, you've arrived. Please come with me."

He led Zheng Hui through several long passages to a large door.

"Please go inside and wait. This is the rest area for the singers and dancers."

The director pushed open the door, revealing a huge, open-plan backstage area, about half the size of a basketball court.

Hundreds of people were crammed inside. Dancers in various costumes were stretching their legs in a corner, folk singers were huddled together whispering to each other, and several acrobats were doing somersaults in the open space.

It was noisy and crowded, yet it possessed a strange sense of order.

Zheng Hui glanced at them and saw that most of them were unfamiliar faces, probably actors drawn from various song and dance troupes.

Around this large communal sleeping area, there were several small rooms temporarily set up with partitions, and the doors were closed.

He saw that one of the doors had the name "Anita Mui" on it, and the other door had "Zhao Benshan and Song Dandan" on it.

Those who have access to a private dressing room are the biggest stars among the biggest stars.

Comedy sketch actors especially need their own space. They need to go over their lines and get into character repeatedly before going on stage, and they cannot be disturbed by the outside world.

Most singers, regardless of their fame, have to wait in this dormitory-style room.

The young director pointed to an empty folding chair: "Mr. Zheng Hui, please sit here for a while. Your program is scheduled for later."

"Okay, thank you."

Zheng Hui found a place to sit down. Since Lin Dashan wasn't there, he could only get a glass of water from the water dispenser in the corner.

He had barely sat down when a voice with a Taiwanese accent came from next to him.

"Zheng Hui? It really is you!"

Zheng Hui turned around and saw Richie Jen looking at him with a surprised expression.

"Brother Qi, you're here too." Zheng Hui stood up.

Richie Jen walked over and joked with Zheng Hui, "You're something else, kid. Your album 'Floating Life' at the end of last year caused quite a stir in Hong Kong and Taiwan."

"I released 'Love is Like the Pacific' in August, and I thought I had it all figured out. But then you came out at the end of the year, and I had my colleagues report your sales figures to me every day, afraid that you would surpass me."

That was a joke, but also a compliment.

Zheng Hui only emerged at the end of last year, and strictly speaking, he is not on the same level as Richie Jen, who has been popular for several years.

However, the explosive popularity of "Floating Life" in Hong Kong and Taiwan did indeed give Zheng Hui the qualifications to compete with top-tier singers.

Zheng Hui said modestly, "Brother Qi, you're joking. I was just lucky; it just so happened that everyone liked listening to that kind of music."

"Luck is also a part of ability." Richie Jen waved his hand: "I've listened to your songs, they're well-written and well-sung."

Zheng Hui didn't press the matter further. He asked, "Brother Qi, when did you arrive in Beijing?"

"I arrived the day before yesterday," Richie Jen sighed. "There are a lot of rules here, so they told me to come early to get used to it. What about you?"

"Me too, the day before yesterday."

"How's it going?" Richie Jen gestured around with his chin. "It's completely different from what we do doing on commercial shows, right?"

Zheng Hui nodded: "The atmosphere is too serious. It feels more like an exam than a performance."

"Who can disagree!" Richie Jen wholeheartedly agreed: "When I first came here, my legs were shaking with nervousness."

Singing here, the audience isn't there; it's all leaders and judges. One wrong look, one off-key note, and your performance might be over.

As the two were chatting, a female singer in a performance outfit walked by, saw Richie Jen, and greeted him with a smile.

"Xiao Qi, you're here."

"Yes, Sister Ye," Richie Jen replied with a smile.

Zheng Hui recognized her; it was Zhang Ye.

He stood up and politely greeted her, "Hello, Teacher Zhang Ye."

Zhang glanced at him and nodded: "Hello, Zheng Hui. I've heard your songs; they're very popular with young people."

Her attitude was gentle, but her eyes showed fatigue and anxiety.

After saying hello, she hurriedly walked towards the stage.

Richie Jen watched her retreating figure and said to Zheng Hui, "See? It's like this for everyone. No matter how big a star they are, they all have to hold their breath here. This rehearsal will have a scoring review, and they'll weed people out."

Zheng Hui understood that in this kind of setting, personal relationships and polite formalities were secondary; everyone's focus was on their own program.

He then saw several familiar faces.

Jiang Dawei, who sang "For Whom," was sitting in a corner with his eyes closed, resting. His brows were slightly furrowed, as if he were singing silently.

There was also a female singer, who was whispering something with someone who looked like a director, her expression serious (understanding is key).

Zheng Hui didn't go forward to disturb them again, but simply nodded to the singers who were looking over from a distance.

When the veteran singers from the mainland music scene saw him, they all nodded politely in response.

Everyone was curious about this suddenly emerging rookie king, but at this critical juncture, no one was in the mood to talk about it.

Everyone is preparing for the big exam that's coming up.

Time passed by, and fewer and fewer people were backstage as most of the actors went to the sides of the stage to prepare.

Zheng Hui's program was scheduled after "The Song of Seven Sons".

He could hear the innocent voices of children coming from the direction of the stage.

"Do you know that Macau is not my real surname—"

The clear voices of the children's choir echoed in the studio, and after the song ended, a brief round of applause broke out.

Immediately afterwards, he heard the announcer's voice.

"Next, please welcome Zheng Hui, a young singer from Macao, to perform the song 'Me and My Motherland' for us."

The young director ran up to him and said, "Mr. Zheng Hui, it's your turn."

Zheng Hui stood up, straightened his clothes, and walked towards the entrance of the stage.

In the dimly lit side stage, he saw the group of young choir members who had just finished their performance, and Rong Yunlin.

Dressed in matching little suits, their faces still flushed from the performance, they were being led by their teacher, quietly preparing to leave the stage.

The children stared wide-eyed with curiosity when they saw him.

Zheng Huichong smiled at them and gave them a thumbs-up.

He walked onto the stage, and the spotlight instantly shone on him.

The light was so bright that he could barely see what was happening below the stage.

Only a dozen or so people could be vaguely seen sitting in the front row of the audience seats directly facing the stage.

In front of them was a small table, and each person held paper and pen, their faces serious, as if waiting for something.

These must be the judges Richie Jen mentioned.

The scene was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

A few seconds later, the piano prelude flowed out slowly through the speakers, like a mountain stream.

Zheng Hui grasped the microphone and began to sing: "My country and I are inseparable—"

There was no grand bel canto, no impassioned shouts.

His voice was like a whisper in a lover's ear, or like a traveler returning from a long journey, pouring out his heart to his homeland.

The dozen or so judges below the stage almost simultaneously stopped writing and looked up.

A look of surprise appeared on their faces.

On the Spring Festival Gala stage, when singing such grand songs, everyone is used to performing them with the most intense and passionate emotions.

This personalized, pop-style performance was something they were hearing for the first time.

In the control room, the chief director Liu Tiemin and several assistant directors were staring at the monitor screen.

On the screen is a close-up of Zheng Hui's face.

"Wherever I go, a hymn flows forth—"

When he sang the chorus, his voice didn't rise, but his emotions were filled with more attachment and affection.

He is like the wave, and the motherland is the ocean.

The waves cannot be separated from the embrace of the sea; that feeling of being connected by blood was sung out in the gentlest way.

The song is very short, only a little over three minutes long.

As the last note faded, Zheng Hui bowed to the audience.

Several seconds later, the director's voice came through the loudspeaker.

"That's enough, Mr. Zheng Hui. You can leave now. Thank you for your hard work."

Zheng Hui bowed again, then turned and walked off the stage.

As he met the shadows of the side stage, he vaguely heard conversations coming from the direction crew.

A voice he recognized, seemingly that of Assistant Director Huang Haitao, was speaking to the review panel: "...I personally think he's very good...He was exactly the same when he auditioned last time...his singing is excellent, and his mental fortitude is also great..."

Zheng Hui didn't hear what was said next; he had already walked into the backstage corridor.

Back in the noisy backstage area of ​​the dormitory, Zheng Hui returned to his seat.

He sat there, watching one actor after another go on stage and then leave.

Some people came down beaming with joy, while others came down dejected.

The myriad aspects of human life are vividly displayed in this small backstage space.

I stayed until noon, when a staff member came to inform me that I could leave.

Zheng Hui said goodbye to Richie Jen. They exchanged contact information. If they passed this time, they would both prepare for the next few rehearsals in Beijing. They also made a promise to go to Beijing together for a delicious meal after the rehearsals.

Zheng Hui followed the crowd out of the studio and got into Li Zongming's car parked on the side of the road.

"Boss, how's it going?"

"They've finished singing. Tell them to wait for further notice."

No one can guarantee anything about the Spring Festival Gala; we can only do our best and leave the rest to fate.

Back at the hotel, Zheng Hui took a shower and then picked up some books about movies to read.

For him, the Spring Festival Gala was a major test, but not his entire life.

With the exam over, it's time to prepare for the next subject.

Two days passed like this. On the afternoon of the third day, Zheng Hui was reading in his room when his cell phone rang.

It was that young director from CCTV who called.

"Hello Mr. Zheng Hui, I'm sorry to bother you." The other party's tone was very polite.

"It's alright, please go ahead."

"Just so you know, the directing team just had a meeting and decided that you and your program, 'Me and My Motherland,' have passed the review."

Zheng Hui's heart skipped a beat.

"The production team is very satisfied with your performance, and the program will be retained. Please prepare to attend the next rehearsal; we will notify you of the specific time later."

"Okay, thank you, director."

"You're welcome, please go ahead with your work."

The phone hangs up.

Zheng Hui sat in the chair, remained silent for a few seconds, and then let out a long sigh.

He picked up the phone in his hotel room and dialed Li Zongming's room number.

"Zongming, the review has been approved."

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