Chapter Two: Life's Future

The guest room was not large, seeming only a little bigger than an ordinary business twin room.

There were two beds; one of them was piled high with all kinds of letters and cassette tapes. In the corner stood an office desk and a filing cabinet, and on the desk was a computer with a bulky monitor, with a printer beside it. “This is us, Magic Rock Records! Ha ha! Sit down, please, have a seat!”

Lin Jianlu thanked him and sat down in a chair.

Before long, the three of them were deep in discussion about the demo of The First Tear. From just a few words, especially with Zhang Peiren, one could tell at once that he was an idealist.

Pure, fervent, devoted.

A man of endless speech.

Receiving a submission of the caliber of The First Tear had clearly excited him. “In my personal view, Mr. Lin, your song The First Tear carries an evident commercial sensibility. It leans a little toward pop, but that’s no problem. We at Magic Rock Records do not make only things colored by humanism. We need pure rock like Dou Wei, Zhang Chu, and He Yong, and we also need pop rock like yours, Mr. Lin!”

He grew somewhat animated, not allowing much room for interruption. “These past few years since I came to the mainland, I’ve deeply felt the richness of the mainland’s cultural soil. There are always melodies here that move me, which shows that mainland music is by no means lifeless; on the contrary, it is full of vigorous vitality! Yet, on the other hand, mainland rock does indeed lean more toward the humanistic and somewhat retro, and I think that is also due to a lack of exchange with peers from outside!”

“But your The First Tear is clearly different, Mr. Lin. Although the accompaniment on your demo is only guitar, I can still feel that it is already very mature, and that it has a highly developed style and tone of commercial rock, of pop rock. That is excellent. It is an indispensable part of rock and roll!”

“Do you know Zhao Chuan? I Am Ugly, But I Am Tender is his work. I’ve seen many pirated tapes of it being sold here in the capital, and they sell very well. He belongs to Rolling Stone. He is pop rock!”

“And Wu Bai, too—his album Wanderer’s Love Song, which sold so well last year, was made by us at Magic Rock Records! Don’t look at how plain our place is here; we also have a company in Taiwan, with an office building!”

“Oh, right, Mr. Lin, the demo you sent seems to have rather poor recording quality. Could we ask you to sing The First Tear live for us? Xiao Xue and I would very much like to hear you sing it in person.”

“Ah, I forgot to introduce him. This is Xue Zhongding, the manager of Rolling Stone Records’ branch company here in the capital. Rolling Stone is the parent company of Magic Rock, so we’re colleagues. He was the one who called you yesterday.”

Lin Jianlu stood and very formally shook hands with Manager Xue Zhongding, then said, “Of course. But... you’ve all already heard The First Tear. I’ll switch to another song instead.”

“Oh? It seems you really have prepared quite a few works. Please! Please!”

When you come to sell your wares at someone else’s door, of course you have to show them properly.

So Lin Jianlu pulled the guitar case from behind him, took out the guitar and slung it over his back, tested the strings with a few quick strokes, and immediately began to sing: “If those two words had not trembled, I would never have discovered how hurt I was. However I say it, it is still only a breakup. If tomorrow asks for nothing, then holding hands is like travel, tens of thousands of doorways...”

The moment Lin Jianlu began singing, the two across from him both froze.

Zhang Peiren’s brow knit at once.

This didn’t seem quite right.

But as they listened on, that crease between his brows slowly smoothed away, especially when the chorus came. He turned to exchange a look with Xue Zhongding, and both men showed some surprise in their eyes.

“This is... very typical pop music! A wonderful love song!”

By the time Lin Jianlu finished, the lyrics, melody, and guitar work had all been clearly demonstrated, and to a considerable degree he had also shown off his singing ability and timbre. Instead, Zhang Peiren seemed somewhat conflicted, his words even a little hesitant. “Mr. Lin doesn’t plan to take the rock route? You’re going for pop?”

“Yes, that’s the plan for now.”

Lin Jianlu looked exceptionally calm. “I’d like to sign with Rolling Stone Records and release an album that leans more toward pop.” Otherwise, with so many works to choose from, he would not have deliberately picked a song so obviously pop in flavor, and one that was in fact made by a musician from Taiwan, namely The First Tear.

He was simply testing the waters.

If, for various reasons, the rock-focused Magic Rock didn’t think much of him, then what if Rolling Stone did? Or if Rolling Stone didn’t, but Magic Rock did?

Of course, this was almost the best possible outcome he had imagined!

First, as the parent company, Rolling Stone truly did have a branch office in the capital, and someone in charge there. Second, Manager Xue Zhongding from Rolling Stone and Zhang Peiren from Magic Rock were both clearly interested in him.

So the choice had swiftly come back to him.

Since there was a choice, of course he would sign with Rolling Stone—rock did not make money! At least in this era, in the mainland, or in Hong Kong, or in Taiwan, it did not make money.

Why, then, did the famous band Beyond, and Wong Ka Kui, who were later commemorated, esteemed, and yearned for by so many, leave behind Hong Kong, where records sold best, and go all the way to Japan to make a living? Plainly put, they had reached the limit of what they could do in Hong Kong. They had taken almost all the market share rock could get, and still they could not earn much.

In the end, he died tragically in a foreign land...

Even, Lin Jianlu still vaguely remembered some information he had learned in his previous life: this Magic Rock Records, Zhang Peiren’s company, had been a subsidiary brand spun off from Rolling Stone, one of the top labels in the Chinese-language music world, specifically for rock. They had even successfully launched the so-called Three Heroes of Magic Rock in Hong Kong, that famed “desert of rock,” yet their albums still never sold particularly well. It must have been not long after the new millennium began that they went completely under.

Plainly put, it still came down to money.

So even if he sang rock, he had to sing pop rock, sing love songs!

Pop music, after all, is the absolutely mainstream music of the masses; the market is large enough that even with piracy rampant, you can still make plenty of money.

Yet in this day and age, the force behind music production in the country was hard to judge, but the legitimate market was certainly pitifully weak. From what Lin Jianlu had seen during half a month in the capital, everywhere except Xinhua Bookstore sold almost nothing but pirated copies. If it was like this in the capital, how much worse must it be in the provinces?

Making music on the mainland was not profitable either.

So if he wanted to make money, he had to do pop, and he had to do pop in Hong Kong and Taiwan.

Then... Rolling Stone.

It was almost the best choice in this era.

Because UFO Records and PolyGram Records had no branches on the mainland...

As a time traveler, Lin Jianlu did not have grand ambitions. Thirty years from now, his homeland would surely be prosperous and powerful; all he needed to do was hurry up and earn a bit of money, then settle down as a comfortable man of means.

Not fleeing, not evading taxes—this alone would be the greatest support he could give his homeland!

...

Once he heard that Lin Jianlu had actually come for Rolling Stone, before Zhang Peiren could even speak, Xue Zhongding unexpectedly took the initiative and cut in, saying, “For works like the one just now, or like The First Tear, how many have you prepared, Mr. Lin?”

Lin Jianlu turned to him. “Ten songs!”

Xue Zhongding could not help clapping his hands, his face alight with excitement.

Zhang Peiren, meanwhile, remained conflicted. “The two works you’ve shown so far, Mr. Lin, already feel quite complete and mature to me... Do you have any other rock songs?”

Then he would simply keep singing.

Back on the train when he first woke up, Lin Jianlu had already considered his future. Everyone has their own specialty; he was only passable at singing, barely counting as half a professional. With the help of his transmigration, he should stand out far more easily than in his previous life, but beyond that, he was unlikely to amount to much at anything else.

Still, if he could make money fairly quickly, he could invest a little in internet companies and earn some founding shares.

That would actually be enough—he had no great ambitions. The sharp edges of life had already been worn smooth by ten years of drifting in Beijing. What remained was only the weariness of life, the desire to become “moderately well-off and content” as soon as possible, so he could tend flowers, grow plants, and go fishing.

In the nineties, earning ten million would be enough to stop.

Even if he never got to drink from the first broth of internet start-ups, there was no regret in that. In the nineties, ten million was enough to buy two or three buildings in the capital—he wouldn’t even need to speculate in real estate, buying and selling back and forth. Wasn’t being a landlord much more appealing?

“I’d rather you be cold all the way through, so I can give up and forget. I’d rather you be heartless all the way through, so I can abandon everything completely. I’d rather hurt only once than hurt day and night. I’d rather you be cold all the way through, so please don’t say...”

Cold All the Way Through.

It fell within the scope of pop rock, but clearly the pop element was even stronger.

In 2025, it would count as a relatively obscure song, but Lin Jianlu had sung it many times before. Only now, performing before professionals, he deliberately held himself back somewhat, striving to sing as standardly and properly as possible.

The lingering beats, the dropped syllables, the howling style favored by street singers—those were great for a live-stream showcase, but not really suitable for an album recording. When singing for professionals, one should use professional technique.

He did not even need to finish the song. Just by looking at the expressions of the two in front of him, one could tell the matter had already been settled.

Only halfway through, though, the look of disappointment on Zhang Peiren’s face had already become obvious. He plainly understood completely now that although Mr. Lin could absolutely write rock and sing rock, he in fact wanted to do pop music more.

After another song ended, both men fell silent for a moment.

Then Xue Zhongding chuckled, seeming about to speak, but before he could, there was suddenly a knock at the door. “Old Xue, Old Zhang, open up quickly—who’s come here?”