Chapter Fifty: Let Me Tell You a Rule

He glanced at the contents of the email.

“Oh? There’s even a completed digital demo. Seems like quite some effort was put in.”

Qian Lun nodded to himself.

Though he had little regard for the Composition Department, he still had to admit his admiration for Wang Mo.

From the ruins of a top-tier idol's fall, not only did Wang Mo avoid succumbing to despair, but he even revealed extraordinary talent in composing.

For this alone, he surpassed ninety-nine percent of celebrities in the entertainment industry.

Of course, what impressed him the most was that in several of Wang Mo’s songs, lyrics, composition, and arrangement were all done by Wang Mo himself. Few in the whole Composition Department could achieve that.

Since there was already a digital demo, Qian Lun didn’t bother to open the sheet music.

He put on his headphones, closed his eyes, and listened.

The melody began.

In the next instant, Qian Lun’s hair stood on end; he abruptly opened his eyes.

He hurriedly opened the sheet music for “Dragon Scales of Heaven and Earth” attached to the email.

Following the synthetic vocals and reading the lyrics on the score, his eyes nearly bulged out.

One minute.

Two minutes.

He maintained the same posture until the song ended.

“This…”

“I…”

“It…”

Qian Lun unconsciously uttered a few words, swallowing hard as his throat went dry.

After a moment.

He took a deep breath and dialed Liu Zhengwen’s number, beaming, “Old Liu, what are you up to?”

Liu Zhengwen was startled; he had never seen Qian Lun in such high spirits. “President Qian, if you want to borrow money, I’ve none to lend. I still owe Wang Mo tens of thousands.”

“What are you saying! I’m not borrowing money!”

Qian Lun chuckled warmly, “Wang Mo just called me. He said he’s looking for a singer to record a song. I immediately agreed, told him our Vocal Department’s singers are at his disposal. Wang Mo is the pride of Yunhai Media. If he wants a singer, of course our Vocal Department will do everything to support him, right? Anyway, if he needs anything in the future, Director Liu, just let me know. If the Composition Department has requests, come to me too—don’t hold back. Our Vocal and Composition Departments have always been one family; regular communication is only natural.”

???

Even after Qian Lun hung up, Liu Zhengwen was still bewildered.

Had he taken the wrong medicine?

Or forgotten to take it?

He actually preferred the old, arrogant Qian Lun. This new Qian Lun was a bit hard to get used to.

…

Inside the recording studio.

Wang Mo met with four singers.

Unlike previous recording sessions, this time, all four singers wore faces of nervous anticipation.

Even the most prominent, Lu Chengxu, waited quietly for Wang Mo to speak, not a hint of impatience.

Wang Mo smiled. “I invited you all today because I have a song I’d like you to audition for. Would you be willing?”

“I’m willing! Absolutely willing!” Lu Chengxu was the first to nod.

The others quickly followed.

“No problem.”

“Of course, it’d be my honor.”

“Brother Mo, what song do you want us to try? I’ll do whatever you say.”

Even last time, when Wang Mo asked the singers to try “Invisible Wings,” singer He Zhi couldn’t quite let go of his pride. But now, with Lu Chengxu’s status even higher than He Zhi’s, he was nonetheless happy to oblige.

This was the power of true ability.

With enough talent, you earned genuine respect and a voice of your own.

As Wang Mo spoke, he also sized up the four singers’ appearances.

Except for Xiao Zixuan, who looked fairly average, the other three were all quite good-looking.

Especially Fu Zhuang—his name and his appearance were a complete mismatch; he appeared to be a delicate young man.

Of course, compared to Wang Mo himself, there was still quite a gap.

Wang Mo paid attention to their looks because he knew the producers at the national broadcaster also had strict requirements for a singer’s image. They didn’t demand handsomeness or beauty, but a dignified, wholesome appearance was a must.

A singer like Hao Mingxing, if not already famous, would have a hard time gaining approval from the “Forbidden City” production team as a newcomer, no matter how well he sang.

From what he saw, the four shouldn’t have a problem in that regard.

While Xiao Zixuan was plain, he was already a third-tier singer with the advantage of some fame.

Once he was sure all four were qualified, Wang Mo spoke again. “Before we start the audition, there’s one thing I need to make clear. If anyone disagrees, you may withdraw—I won’t hold it against you.”

The four exchanged glances.

Lu Chengxu spoke. “Brother Mo, please go on.”

Wang Mo said, “I have a rule: no matter how famous the singer, for songs I write, I insist that singers and the lyricist/composer share equal royalties. The singer, lyricist, and composer each get an equal share. Because for this song, I am both the lyricist and composer, so after the company’s cut, I’ll take two shares, and the singer gets one.”

By now, Wang Mo had established real standing within the company.

He felt it was time to make his standards public.

A month ago, if he had announced this rule, it would have caused an uproar—the entire Vocal Department would have denounced him.

After all, sharing royalties equally between the lyricist/composer and singer was practically unheard of in the industry.

It was a revolutionary idea.

He could have set up private agreements with Hao Mingxing and Su Xueyao and signed contracts, but declaring such standards openly was impossible.

Now, however.

He finally had the confidence to say it out loud.

As expected.

The moment he finished, all four were visibly shocked. Yet none reacted with anger; their expressions shifted from astonishment to contemplation.

After a long pause.

Once again, it was Lu Chengxu who spoke. “No problem for me.”

Then Fu Zhuang: “I agree as well.”

Xiao Zixuan: “I accept.”

As for Zhao Pingyi, being a newcomer, just being chosen to audition by Wang Mo was the greatest honor he could imagine—how could he have the nerve to negotiate terms?

“All right.” Wang Mo nodded. “Since everyone’s on board, let’s begin the audition. First… Zhao Pingyi, you go first.”

“Okay.” Zhao Pingyi nodded, following Wang Mo into the recording booth.

After reviewing the score for a few minutes, he began to sing: “For this land, I set pen to page, the bloodline of our nation stretching for thousands of miles…”

After he sang a few lines.

Wang Mo said, “Try the high notes. Don’t stop unless I say so—just keep singing.”

“All right.”

After agreeing, Zhao Pingyi took a deep breath and sang, “Yet these dragon scales once fell, ringing out as shattered ice. Each scale is an inch of heart, stories adrift I cannot bear to hear…”

At this point, Wang Mo shook his head, stopping him. “Your high notes are decent, but your breathing technique is lacking, and during prolonged high passages, you fall behind the rhythm.”

He was, after all, a newcomer, and faced with such a challenging song, many issues became apparent instantly.

Zhao Pingyi looked embarrassed. “You’re right, Brother Mo—that’s a weakness of mine.”

Wang Mo nodded. “You can go now. Send in Xiao Zixuan.”

Soon, Xiao Zixuan entered.

As a second-tier singer, he was notably better than Zhao Pingyi in all respects.

But he also struggled with the extended high notes. Especially with Wang Mo having the mature example of Wang Lihong’s rendition in mind, the difference was obvious.

That meant Xiao Zixuan still didn’t meet Wang Mo’s standards.

Next up.

The third singer: Fu Zhuang.

What surprised Wang Mo was that, although Fu Zhuang looked delicate, the power he unleashed far exceeded expectations—it was at odds with his appearance.

Especially in the high notes, he sang almost the entire passage in one breath.

Though a bit raw, it was still quite impressive for a first attempt.

He fit the image.

He had the vocal skills.

Fu Zhuang made it into Wang Mo’s shortlist.

Yet Wang Mo still didn’t reveal his decision.

There was still one more singer to audition—and this one was the most renowned.

“All right, that’s enough for now. Wait outside, and send in Lu Chengxu.”

“Okay, Brother Mo.”

As he left, Fu Zhuang sneaked a glance at Wang Mo’s expression but saw nothing.

A faint sense of disappointment crept into his heart.

He wondered if he had failed to impress Wang Mo.

He truly wanted to get this song—especially after auditioning with “Dragon Scales of Heaven and Earth,” he was captivated by its lyrics and melody and fell in love with it instantly.

But his desire meant nothing; only Wang Mo’s approval could secure it for him.

While Fu Zhuang stood outside, regretting he hadn’t performed better—

The studio door opened.

Lu Chengxu emerged, looking at Fu Zhuang with a complex expression. He patted him on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

Then he turned and left.

Fu Zhuang was stunned. Then he saw Wang Mo walk up to him.

“Fu Zhuang, over the next couple of days, go home and familiarize yourself with the song. Try to master the score as soon as possible.”

“Huh?”

Fu Zhuang stared blankly for a long moment before stammering, “Brother Mo, do you mean… I’ve been chosen?”

“Mm.” Wang Mo smiled and nodded.

Just now, after listening to Lu Chengxu’s audition, he realized that Fu Zhuang was the most suitable.

So in the end, he decided to give “Dragon Scales of Heaven and Earth” to Fu Zhuang.

With the singer chosen, all that remained was to wait for a response from the national broadcaster.