Wednesday.
September, early autumn.
The ginkgo trees glowed golden, while the Chinese maples blazed like fire.
The spirit of autumn permeated this ancient yet modern city.
Early in the morning, the streets were quiet and deserted, with only a few elderly people doing their morning exercises.
After grabbing soy milk and youtiao from a small stall in the urban village, Shen Lang rode his 28-inch rod brake bicycle to the Beijing Radio and Television Station.
"Good morning."
"Morning."
As he entered the building, he received more enthusiastic greetings than usual. His name, "Shen Lang," had already spread throughout the entire radio station.
Shen Lang was in an excellent mood.
When he arrived at his floor, his colleagues stood up from their workstations and applauded as soon as he walked in.
"Xiao Shen, you're amazing!"
"Well done!"
"You're incredible!"
What's going on?
Shen Lang was bewildered.
Just then, Wu Zhoutong, Zhao Xue, and Zhang Zhong approached him.
Ta-da!
Zhao Xue and Zhang Zhong unfurled silk banners.
One read: "Radio Station Matchmaker."
The other read: "Virtuous and Accomplished in Arts."
Seeing Shen Lang's puzzled expression, Wu Zhoutong immediately explained, "Everyone knows how you saved a life with a song. These banners were sent by Wang Cheng and Qin Jiajia, the people you helped."
Shen Lang finally understood and quickly expressed his gratitude. "Thank you."
Having lived two lifetimes, this was the first time he had ever received a Silk Banner Award.
Unconsciously, a faint smile crept onto his lips.
This felt... good.
At ten o'clock, Director Yang Lin emerged from his office and summoned everyone to the conference room.
No one knew what was happening.
It was rare for the entire station to hold a meeting together.
Such occasions usually meant major news.
Sure enough, all the leaders were present.
"Comrades," the director began, "today, we convene this assembly to commend Shen Lang for his life-saving actions on the September 3rd broadcast of Midnight Melodies. When the people needed help, he stepped forward bravely and dedicated himself..."
All eyes turned to Shen Lang.
Shen Lang sat upright, a smile on his face.
Well, well.
There's another big wave coming.
"On behalf of Beijing Radio and Television Station, I hereby award Shen Lang the honorary title of 'Star of the Radio Station.' We extend our warmest congratulations and deepest respect!"
The station intended to use Shen Lang as a typical example and role model, hoping to "light one lamp to illuminate a vast area."
The reward was a certificate of merit and 200 yuan.
Shen Lang was invited onto the stage. First, he posed for a group photo with the leaders, holding up the certificate. Then, he delivered a speech:
"I thank the leaders for their recognition and encouragement. This honor is truly unexpected. I believe anyone would have stepped in to save a life in that moment. I will continue to work hard and live up to this distinction."
"Let's give Shen Lang another round of applause. Now, I'd like to say a few more words..."
The leader's "few more words" stretched for two hours, right up to lunchtime.
Shen Lang returned the certificate to his workstation before heading to the canteen.
After the commendation, the cafeteria lady's hand no longer trembled as she served him. She piled his bowl high with meat.
In the afternoon, Yang Lin summoned Shen Lang to his office as soon as work resumed.
Today, Yang Lin was beaming, his mood buoyant.
Shen Lang was his subordinate, and his commendable actions, publicly recognized before the entire station, naturally brought pride to his superior.
Moreover, the success of the songs "Lonely Sandbank Cold" and "Angel's Wings," along with the incidents they were associated with, had caused a sharp rise in the listenership rate of "Midnight Melodies." The show was poised to regain its former popularity, potentially even surpassing the station's flagship programs.
These achievements would undoubtedly add a shining mark to his performance record.
How could he not be pleased?
"Xiao Shen," he began, "I won't waste time with formalities. Here's your formal contract. Not only have we increased your salary, but you'll also receive an additional bonus this month. Going forward, work closely with Wu Zhoutong to make 'Midnight Melodies' even bigger and better. You're young, this is the time to strive, and opportunities will abound. Don't let our expectations of you go to waste."
"Rest assured, Director," Shen Lang replied, "I will fulfill my duties diligently."
Trying to mentally overload me?
Impossible!
Yes, Shen Lang had successfully passed his probation and become a permanent employee.
He remained Wu Zhoutong's assistant.
His salary had increased to 1,800 yuan.
The national annual average wage for urban employed workers that year was 9,371 yuan, with a monthly average of 780.9 yuan.
This salary was already quite high.
But if he wanted to release an album, this increase was utterly inadequate.
He would need to find another way.
Just as Shen Lang was at his wit's end, a record company approached him directly.
In this era of explosive growth in musical talent, record companies were collapsing one after another.
The millennium had brought a tumultuous upheaval, and the record industry was gripped by a curse of stagnation. The market shrinkage was no less devastating than the stock market crash that had halved share values.
After the dust settled, only the largest record companies remained.
In Treasure Island Province (Taiwan), five giants—Rock Records, Warner Music, Universal Music, Sony Music, and Linfair Records—battled fiercely for dominance.
In Fragrant Harbor (Hong Kong), PolyGram, Capital Artists, and Warner Music formed a three-way power struggle, marking the peak of Cantonese pop culture.
As for Mainland China, most artists still relied on Hong Kong and Taiwan. The reason was simple: great talents were plentiful, but discerning judges of talent were rare.
The first to approach Shen Lang was Warner Music from Treasure Island Province.
Formerly known as UFO Records, Warner Music had once commanded 30% of the entire Chinese-language market at its peak.
However, after being acquired and rebranded by Warner, the company's fortunes had steadily declined, with its market share plummeting to less than 10%.
Warner Music's turning point came with Sun Yanzi.
In its rebuilding phase a few years prior, Warner Music, perhaps grasping at straws, became fixated on signing Sun Yanzi.
After persistent persuasion, Father Sun was deeply moved by Warner's shameless persistence and agreed to let Sun Yanzi sign a contract immediately after completing her studies. Warner waited patiently for two full years.
A record company waiting two years for an artist is exceptionally rare in the entertainment industry.
Back then, Paula Tsui, the "Queen of Cantopop," had been scouted by a record company. Her parents vehemently opposed the contract, also making the company wait two years. But by the time those two years had passed, the company had long forgotten about her.
This demonstrated Sun Yanzi's immense value in Warner's eyes. Just two months after signing her formal contract, Warner released her self-titled debut album, Sun Yanzi.
Though the album title was widely criticized, its sales were remarkably strong, selling 300,000 copies in Taiwan alone.
Sun Yanzi became an overnight sensation, and Warner Music, against the industry's downward trend, finally stopped its decline and began to recover.
Warner Music's strategy was understandable. Sun Yanzi's esteemed teacher, Lee Wei Song, had previously mentored Gigi Leung, and with her similar short hairstyle, Sun Yanzi was poised to replicate Leung's success.
As it turned out, Warner Music's foresight proved correct.
"You're saying he refused?" Zhou Jianhui, then President of Warner Music in Treasure Island Province (Taiwan), received a call from the Deputy Manager responsible for negotiating the contract with Shen Lang.
"Yes."
"What reason did he give?"
In Zhou Jianhui's view, offering Shen Lang the same terms as Sun Yanzi should have made securing his signature a certainty.
An orphan.
Working at a radio station for a meager salary of a few thousand yuan.
How could he possibly resist such a tempting offer?
Yet, against all expectations, the unexpected had occurred.
"He made a condition."
"What condition?"
"He wants to retain all copyright to his original compositions."
Zhou Jianhui frowned.
Typically, the copyright for a song is divided: the lyrics belong to the lyricist, the melody to the composer, and the arrangement to the arranger.
However, when signing with a record company, artists are usually required to sign a Copyright Transfer Agreement, granting the company ownership of the song's copyright.
Since song copyrights are a major source of revenue for record companies, they naturally seek to acquire them by any means necessary.
For a nameless nobody like Shen Lang, signing with any record company would essentially mean bidding farewell to his song copyrights. This could be seen as exchanging his rights for the company's resources.
As for Shen Lang's own ambitions...
He was confident he could make a name for himself in the entertainment industry.
With his enhanced memory from time travel and access to classic works from after 2000, he believed he could "slay the gods and ascend to glory" in this era of fierce competition.
However, having witnessed countless artists battling their companies in court over the past two decades, he had no desire to end up having to sue just to perform his own songs.
Take GEM Tang Tsz kei, for example.
After rising to fame, she was betrayed by her company.
Not only was she forbidden from singing her own compositions, but she was even barred from using her stage name, "GEM Tang Tsz kei."
A penny-wise, pound-foolish decision that cost her dearly.
Still, Shen Lang wasn't completely opposed to signing with a record company.
If the terms were right, he would consider it.
He had already presented his conditions. Now it was up to Warner Music to accept them.
Clearly, they wouldn't.
He valued copyright as if his life depended on it, and Warner Music was no different.