Huayu: A master director who debuted as a singer

Chapter 64 "Floating Life"

At PolyGram Records, Manager Chen led Zheng Hui to Zheng Donghan's office and knocked on the door.

"Enter."

Manager Chen pushed open the door and stepped aside to let Zheng Hui in.

Inside the office, behind a mahogany desk, sat a middle-aged man.

Zheng Donghan.

A godfather figure in the Hong Kong music scene, a big shot who single-handedly made stars of Sam Hui, Teresa Teng, Leslie Cheung, and Jacky Cheung.

Upon seeing Zheng Hui enter, Zheng Donghan stood up, walked around the desk, and came over.

"Mr. Zheng." Zheng Hui bowed slightly.

Zheng Donghan looked Zheng Hui up and down, a smile spreading across his face.

"No need to be so formal." Zheng Donghan reached out and patted Zheng Hui on the shoulder: "I also have the surname Zheng, and you also have the surname Zheng. We were one family five hundred years ago."

"I'll take the liberty of calling you Hui-zai, you don't mind, do you?"

Zheng Hui smiled and said, "You are an elder and a senior in the music industry. It is my honor to call me Hui Zai."

"Okay." Zheng Donghan pointed to the sofa next to him: "Sit down."

Manager Chen, being very perceptive, went to make tea.

Zheng Donghan sat in the main seat, looking at Zheng Hui: "Have you had a hard time in Guangzhou these past few days?"

"It's not hard work," Zheng Hui replied, sitting up straight. "The happiest thing about this line of work is recording songs."

O

"Well said." Zheng Donghan nodded: "Unlike some young people nowadays, who treat singing as a fashion show, their minds are not on the music."

This statement has a hidden meaning.

The tea was ready, and Manager Chen poured it for the two of them.

Zheng Donghan picked up his teacup: "Manager Chen told me you said you were going to bring me back a big gift?"

Zheng Hui didn't speak, but turned to look at Li Zongming.

Li Zongming immediately stepped forward, placed his briefcase on the coffee table, unlocked it, and took out a reference master tape.

There are only four words on it: Seven-Day Love Song.

When Zheng Donghan saw those four words, he raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

He took the master tape, got up, and walked to the audio equipment.

This equipment is top-of-the-line; the speakers alone are worth a fortune.

Zheng Donghan inserted the master tape, pressed the play button, and the room fell silent.

"Sizzle—"

After the faint sound of the tape spinning, the sound of a guitar suddenly rang out.

The first song is "Thank You for Your Love 1999".

The powerful drumbeats bring a rock-and-roll energy, yet the melody flows incredibly smoothly.

"When saying goodbye, don't say forever, because goodbye won't be forever—"

Zheng Donghan stood in front of the speakers, his back to the crowd.

He didn't turn around, but simply tapped his fingers lightly to the rhythm on the side of his leg.

The song ended.

Without pause, the prelude to the second song immediately followed.

Red Rose.

"A dream within a dream from which I cannot wake, a red thread binding me under house arrest—"

Zheng Donghan stopped tapping his fingers.

He turned around, looked at Zheng Hui, and there was something more in his eyes.

Next came "Ten Years," "King of Karaoke," and "Single Love Song"—

Ten songs, forty minutes.

For those forty minutes, no one spoke in the office.

Only Zheng Hui's singing voice echoed in this space.

Whether it's heart-wrenching, softly humming, or coldly observing.

The final notes of the last song, "Unromantic Crime," faded away.

Zheng Donghan turned off the stereo, picked up the reference master tape, and weighed it in his hand.

"it is good."

There was only one word, but the expression on his face spoke volumes about its weight.

It became.

Zheng Donghan walked back to the sofa and sat down, placing the master tape on the coffee table and looking at Zheng Hui.

"Hui-zai, what are you going to call these ten songs?"

Zheng Hui pointed to the handwritten label on the master tape: "Let's call it 'Seven Days of Love Song'."

Why?

"Because I wrote it in just seven days."

Zheng Hui's voice carried a youthful sharpness: "Didn't they criticize me for lacking depth? Didn't they criticize me for only writing slogans?"

"I want to show them that I can write a song of this quality in seven days, just by writing casually."

"I'm going to use these seven days to slap them in the face."

"I want them to know that their album, which they've meticulously crafted for a year, is no match for my doodles in seven days."

The room was silent for a few seconds.

Zheng Donghan picked up a cigar, trimmed it, lit it, took a puff, and exhaled the smoke.

Through the smoke, he looked at Zheng Hui's young and impetuous face.

"No." Zheng Donghan shook his head.

Zheng Hui was taken aback: "Why?"

"You've certainly made a splash." Zheng Donghan flicked his cigarette ash. "Writing a hit album in seven days is certainly sensational, audacious, and a slap in the face."

"The media will report on it like crazy, you'll be on the front page, you'll become a genius."

"But then, the substance is gone."

Zheng Hui frowned: "The song is here, how could it lack meaning?"

"Because what people will remember is only the five words written in seven days."

Zheng Donghan pointed to the tape: "When you use speed as your selling point, you've already lost."

"People will listen with curiosity, they will count how many chords you used, and they will nitpick the flaws in your recording."

"They'll say, 'Oh, he's definitely a genius, but he's just showing off. And the album title you've chosen is like you're trying to outdo Nicholas Tse.'"

"Once this name is used, this album will be labeled as a counterattack against Nicholas Tse."

"When people talk about this album in the future, they won't think of the emotions in the songs, but rather the war of words between you and Nicholas Tse."

"Hui, your songs shouldn't just be used as a gimmick for fighting."

Do you know what I just heard?

He didn't wait for Zheng Hui's reply and continued speaking to himself.

"I didn't hear about Seven Days, nor did I hear about Nicholas Tse."

"I heard a person's entire life story."

Zheng Hui was stunned. A lifetime?

When he wrote these ten songs, all he was thinking about was how to become popular, how to make them sound good, and how to copy those later hit songs to block his competitors' path.

He was thinking about retaliating, about feeling good, and about copying whatever was popular.

Zheng Donghan turned around and held up the tape: "Your arrangement of these ten songs is very interesting."

"The first set includes 'Thank You for Your Love 1999' and 'Because of Love, I Love'."

Zheng Donghan looked at Zheng Hui: "This is the love of young people."

"Direct, willful, no reason needed."

"Because of love, that's why I love. How domineering, how unreasonable. Only an eighteen-year-old could say something like that."

"At this time, people feel that love is everything. If they love, they should say it; if they are in pain, they should shout it out. Like fire, it burns and crackles."

"Then came the second set, 'Red Rose' and 'White Rose'."

"This isn't something an eighteen-year-old understands," Zheng Donghan shook his head. "It's something you only understand at forty."

"What you can't have always stirs your heart, and those who are favored are always fearless."

"Between passion and purity, choosing either is a mistake. Because people are greedy; if you choose red, you'll yearn for white; if you choose white, your dreams will be filled with red."

"This is a choice, and also a regret."

He looked at Zheng Hui with a probing gaze: "Hui, you're only eighteen, how can you write lyrics like this?"

Zheng Hui opened his mouth, about to explain that his ideas came from reading Eileen Chang's books.

Zheng Donghan waved his hand, giving his own answer: "I consider you a genius. Wang Bo was only a few years old when he wrote 'Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng.' There have been many great poets throughout history who wrote excellent poems in their teens."

Talent is something that defies logic.

He continued speaking.

"The third group, 'Next Year Today,' and 'Ten Years.'"

These are two sides of time.

T

"Wait a year, then let it sit for ten years."

What happened between one year and ten years? It's not written in the lyrics, but everyone knows.

"This is not an experience, this is an observation."

Zheng Donghan pointed to the crowd of people below the window, who looked like ants: "Standing on the street, I saw people waiting, people crying, and people brushing past me."

"This is written for those who have been separated by time."

"The fourth group, 'Single Love Song' and 'Unromantic Crime'."

"This stage is called self-deprecation."

"Eighteen-year-olds don't know how to laugh at themselves. When young people break up, they blame others, hate their exes, and feel like they are the victims."

"Only those who have truly understood life can laugh at themselves."

"I laugh at myself for not being able to hold onto love, for not understanding romance, for being a sinner."

"The last group, 'King of Karaoke'."

"This is the final stage."

"I've experienced everything: love, hate, choices, waiting, and laughter."

"What's left in the end?"

"The last person is hiding in a karaoke room, holding a microphone, singing other people's songs, and shedding their own tears."

"You want to be the king of karaoke, you want to sing out all your love, but the person who listens is no longer here."

"After singing and crying, I wiped my face dry, and the next morning, I still had to squeeze onto the subway to go to work."

"This is reconciliation."

"Make peace with yourself, make peace with the past, make peace with the world."

Zheng Donghan straightened up and let out a long sigh.

"Youth is about making choices, waiting, letting go, being alone, and reconciling."

"These ten songs, taken together, represent a man's entire life."

In the office, Manager Chen stared wide-eyed at Zheng Donghan, then at Zheng Hui.

When he listened to it, he only thought it sounded good, the melody was catchy, and the lyrics were poignant.

But he never imagined that these ten songs could be interpreted in this way.

Even Zheng Hui himself was stunned; he really had just put them together randomly.

He simply put together the most popular and powerful songs from later generations.

Nicholas Tse's rock and roll, Eason Chan's deep emotions, Dave Wang's wandering spirit, and Terry Lin's soaring vocals.

Is this also a lifetime?

Zheng Donghan smiled when he saw Zheng Hui's blank expression.

"It seems you yourself never intended to write this."

Zheng Hui nodded honestly: "I really hadn't thought of that."

Just because you didn't think of it doesn't mean you didn't write it down.

Zheng Donghan gently placed the mother tape on the table in front of Zheng Hui.

"That's the magic of creation. Sometimes, the author does it unintentionally, but the work comes to life."

"Hui, if you called this album 'Seven Days of Love Songs,' it would be a disaster."

"It will become a fast food, a joke, a tool for spite."

"It deserves a better name."

Zheng Hui looked at the tape and suddenly felt that the tape had become very heavy.

"Then what do you think it should be called?" Zheng Hui asked.

Zheng Donghan did not answer directly. He walked behind his desk, picked up a pen, wrote two words on a piece of paper, turned the paper over, and pushed it in front of Zheng Hui.

Floating Life

"Life is but a dream, how much joy can it hold?" Zheng Donghan murmured.

"This album sings about the myriad aspects of life, a vivid portrayal of the world."

"I want everyone who listens to this album to find a reflection of themselves in it."

"Eighteen-year-olds, listen to 'Because of Love, I Love'."

"A 28-year-old is listening to 'Red Rose'."

"Thirty-eight years old, listening to 'Ten Years'."

"A 48-year-old listens to 'King of Karaoke'."

"I want to sell this album to all the men in Hong Kong, Taiwan, and China."

"Whether they are poor or rich, successful or unsuccessful."

"As long as they have loved, suffered, and lived."

"This is their album."