Chapter Ten: Hello, Alu!

“Old Xue, I feel like you’re even more nervous than I am.”

The plane made a stopover in Hong Kong. After switching to another aircraft, it soon took off again. The shallow strait passed quickly, and the bustling cityscape of Taipei was already in sight as the plane began its gradual descent.

Lin Jianlu felt nothing special.

Indeed, it was his first time visiting Taiwan, but it did not stir any extraordinary emotions within him.

From afar, looking down at Taipei’s city center, skyscrapers stood densely packed, exuding a sense of prosperity.

Compared to the current state of mainland cities, whether Hong Kong or Taiwan, the sight was striking.

But prosperity was not unfamiliar to him.

At present, no mainland city could truly surpass Taipei, but no matter how much Taiwan was considered one of the Four Asian Tigers, how could it compare to the dazzling splendor of Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou, and Shenzhen three decades from now?

He even had the leisure and interest to observe Xue Zhongding, who accompanied him on this trip to Taiwan.

In fact, there was another person with them, the one who had been running back and forth between Hong Kong and the capital to handle the entry permits for Taiwan. However, that person could only claim reimbursement for economy class seats. Xue Zhongding, the senior manager from Rolling Stone Records tasked with reporting back to Taiwan, was able to accompany Lin Jianlu in first class. Ever since the plane took off again in Hong Kong, Xue had been fidgeting nonstop—adjusting his hair one moment, straightening his suit the next.

“Heh heh, Ah Lu, do you understand what it means to return with honor?”

Heh...

Lin Jianlu suddenly smiled.

Old Xue was actually quite an interesting character.

No matter how busy he was, his hairstyle was always impeccably neat, and most of the time, he wore a suit and tie. But don’t think he was rigid—he was actually quite sharp!

Later, as Lin Jianlu got to know him better, he learned that Xue had only just been assigned to the mainland at the end of November to establish the capital branch of Rolling Stone Records. In other words, whether it was Lin’s demo or him, it was hard to say who arrived at the New Metropolitan Hotel first! And the official seal Xue had used to sign Lin’s contract was reportedly only obtained a couple of days before.

That was Xue’s first trip to the mainland.

Actually, it was considered a tough assignment, Lin Jianlu thought.

The subsidiary, Moyan Records, had made some headway in the capital’s music scene, but it was far from thriving or making much money. The “Moyan Three Heroes” had a big name but only a loud reputation, with modest cassette sales.

Under these circumstances, Xue was sent to the capital mainly to cooperate with Old Zhang from Moyan Records, working on cross-strait record licensing and publishing.

Moyan’s records were authorized to be published by the parent company in Taiwan to sell there. Conversely, Rolling Stone Records, as Asia’s largest independent record company and a dominant force in the Chinese music industry for over a decade, had amassed a vast catalog of records. Although piracy was rampant on the mainland, there was still a market for legitimate copies, so securing publishing licenses to authorize Moyan Records to distribute on the mainland was necessary.

Such an assignment—leaving a familiar environment and home to work in the “backward” mainland, doing tedious work with little chance of achievement—could hardly be called a favorable posting.

Yet, neither Rolling Stone nor Old Xue expected that right after he arrived in the capital and set up the branch office, he would run into Lin Jianlu.

In Old Xue’s words, “The moment you said you wanted to sign with Rolling Stone instead of Moyan, I felt an instant surge of energy!” Indeed, after just one phone call during which the boss of Rolling Stone, Duan Zhongtan, listened to six songs and immediately agreed to sign Lin, Old Xue spun into action like a top.

Recording, shooting music videos—Lin Jianlu was undoubtedly the leader, but Old Xue never rested for a day. While Lin was busy with business, it was Old Xue who ran errands, handled chores, and took care of all the details Lin couldn’t attend to—running back and forth tirelessly every day.

He was a Taiwanese man, yet braving the bitter cold of the capital, shivering often, but never once shirking his duties or causing delays.

When the master tapes were sent to Taiwan for post-production and the music videos were edited, he busied himself running to TV stations and video shops nationwide. No matter how brilliant the marketing strategy, someone had to execute it meticulously; without proper execution and coordination, even the best plan would be in vain.

For this, Old Xue didn’t take a single day off during the New Year holidays to reunite with his family back in Taiwan. Instead, he kept hustling outside, busy as ever.

Lin Jianlu had witnessed all of this.

“This is just the beginning!”

In first class, the seats were spaced far apart. Lin Jianlu originally wanted to put his arm around Old Xue’s shoulder as he said this, but all he could do was lean forward and pat Xue’s shoulder: “Together, brother, we’ll achieve great results!”

He truly beamed with joy, and his pride only grew—

“Seventeen hundred thousand copies in the first week, two hundred sixty thousand the second week—you’ll definitely hit one million sales! Since November 1989, when Miss Shu Hua’s ‘Tell You, Listen to You’ became the first album to sell over a million copies in Taiwan’s history, there have only been eleven such albums in the entire market! Yours, Cold to the End, will be the twelfth!”

“But none of them reached that milestone as quickly as you! Shu Hua’s album took a whole year and two months to cross a million copies. UFO’s Wang Jie’s hottest album in 1987, ‘A Game, A Dream,’ only hit a million in August 1991!”

“Still Wang Jie—his second album, 1988’s ‘Forget You, Forget Me,’ was announced to have sold 400,000 copies in two weeks, but Rolling Stone estimated it was actually about 320,000—110,000 fewer than you! You’re a newcomer, but when Wang Jie released that album, he was already famous throughout the Chinese-speaking world!”

“When did that album reach a million? Haha, March last year!”

“The fastest album to reach a million in Taiwan so far was Zhou Huajian’s ‘Make Me Joyful, Make Me Worry,’ which took eight months after its November 1991 release, followed by Jacky Cheung’s ‘Goodbye Kiss,’ which took nine months after March 1993.”

“How many copies did ‘Make Me Joyful, Make Me Worry’ sell? 2.9 million worldwide! And ‘Goodbye Kiss’? You know—last reported, it had been certified at 4.2 million copies globally! And you, Ah Lu, you’ll reach a million faster than all of them!”

“Because you’re way more handsome! Much more!”

“Great songs, great singing, and you’re a gifted songwriter who handled the entire album’s composition yourself! And you’re so good-looking! Believe me, once this round of promotion kicks off and fans see you live, sales will not decline but rise! You’re a pure newcomer, unlike those albums where the singers were already famous before release. This is just the first wave of sales driven by ‘Cold to the End’ and its music video! Even now, many fans in Taiwan don’t know you yet!”

“Number one on Taiwan’s Golden Melody charts for two weeks, number one on album sales charts, number one on Hong Kong’s music charts for two weeks, sixth and then second on album sales there—this week you might top it! Number one on Singapore’s music charts for two consecutive weeks, and Malaysia… and that’s not enough, far from it!”

“The most conservative estimate is that ‘Cold to the End’ will hit one million sales in Taiwan in six months. Optimistically, you might break that record in under half a year!”

“So now, Ah Lu, you’re already on the same level as Chen Shu Hua, Sandy Lam, Wang Jie, Zhou Huajian, and Jacky Cheung!”

“Oh, right, you still have Japan and Korea! Your music video for ‘Super Cool’ was a huge hit after airing there. Our distribution agents have decided to ramp up promotion! Shipments are quite promising! Getting over 100,000 sales there is completely feasible—maybe even more! The market’s big, and if you really catch on, selling hundreds of thousands won’t be a problem!”

“That’s Japan and Korea! Apart from the legendary Teresa Teng, who personally went to Japan, and Chang Kuoyung selling a bit in Korea, practically no Chinese singer has broken through there!”

“You very well might be the first! Your ‘Super Cool’ video could genuinely open up the market! I hear they love your dancing and the melody!”

“And you have mainland China’s sales too. Others’ albums can’t enter the mainland market, and even if they eventually do, cassette sales are minimal! But you’re different—‘Cold to the End’ is already a smash hit! We’ve distributed over five million copies! Although some will be returned, actual sales surpassing three million is quite likely! Just this alone makes you the first in the entire Chinese music industry!”

“Do you know what this means, Ah Lu? It means that although you’re just debuting, you’re already an Asian artist! A true continental singer! In the entire Chinese music world, only a handful like Jacky Cheung, Chang Kuoyung, Wang Jie, and Zhou Huajian can compare to you! If subsequent sales data confirms our expectations, you might even surpass them!”

“Thinking back, your insistence on finishing recording quickly and squeezing funds to shoot music videos was the best decision. Without those two videos...”

As he spoke, Lin Jianlu smiled.

He could understand.

Who wouldn’t be thrilled when a seemingly unlucky assignment suddenly turned into a tremendous success? Anyone would be dancing with joy.

But—

“Stop! Stop! Stop! Old Xue, you’ve said this a hundred times! I know you’re happy, and so am I, but control yourself! Stay calm and show the demeanor of a great leader!”

Xue Zhongding chuckled.

Then, glancing left and right, he dropped his smile and leaned in to whisper, “Ah Lu, you’re newly famous—mind your image! Toss those two notes!”

“Ahem...”

Lin Jianlu dodged him, turning his head.

He smiled and said, “From the moment we exit the airport, believe me, many paparazzi will be desperate to snap photos even of your underwear color! But we can’t afford any slip-ups!”

Alright, Lin Jianlu thought, and pulled two notes from his pocket, handing them over.

Xue took them and laughed heartily once more.

After the transfer in Hong Kong, they were now on a Taiwanese airline. Several flight attendants immediately recognized Lin Jianlu and, unlike their restrained mainland counterparts, their eyes lit up instantly.

Later, many came to ask for autographs, and two young women boldly slipped notes into Lin’s hand.

This was Lin Jianlu’s first real taste of “being famous.”

In the capital, he had ridden his bicycle bundled in a thick coat, unnoticed by anyone. Mainland flight attendants peeked at him but never asked for autographs.

He hadn’t expected that the two notes he casually pocketed, planning to discard after getting off the plane, would be all seen by Old Xue.

...

The plane landed smoothly.

The three of them reunited and pushed their luggage into the arrival hall. Lin Jianlu’s eyes immediately caught sight of the tall signs emblazoned with traditional Chinese characters—

“Ah Lu, we love you!”

“Welcome, Ah Lu!”

“Hello, Ah Lu!”