Chapter 122: A Survey of Many Idols in the Music Industry

Chapter 122: A Survey of Idols in the Music Industry

Yang Xin'er's presence in the media had gradually begun to fade. It was not that Zhang Le had forgotten about her, but rather that media attention had begun to tilt.

When the two first started dating, there was no doubt that Zhang Le was the one without a presence. Later, with Yang Xin'er’s support, Zhang Le achieved some success, and the media began to focus on them as a pair. But now, it was clear that the media was far more interested in Zhang Le.

It was hard to say who was more popular between Zhang Le and Yang Xin'er, or who had the larger fan base. Yet, the media's focus had undeniably shifted toward Zhang Le.

Zhang Le was well aware that Yang Xin'er did not care about such things. His own frustration stemmed only from the fact that he had previously overlooked the silent sacrifices she had made for him.

Compared to the rest of the world, China’s animation industry was even further behind than its film industry. However, the animation market was gradually developing. It was a massive cake, and whoever took the first bite would hold the advantage.

Of course, Zhang Le’s ambitions were even grander. As a reincarnated soul with an "insider edge," if he only looked at the small patch of land within the country, his vision would be far too narrow. From the moment he decided to enter the animation market, his sights had been set far beyond domestic borders.

However, some things did not need to be handled personally. Being with the one he loved and doing what he enjoyed was the most beautiful thing of all.

Zhang Le was no workaholic. In fact, he had shown little interest in the company’s development, often appearing indifferent rather than dedicated. Thinking back on Yang Xin'er’s contributions to the company, he felt a sting of self-reproach.

To have a bevy of beauties within reach and yet remain oblivious, habitually relying on one’s own hand—it wasn't just being blind; it was being a fool of the highest order. Zhang Le felt that he was exactly that kind of fool.

There was no longer any need to handle everything himself. A simple idea dropped in passing could often be the catalyst for the company’s massive growth. This was no exaggeration. Take, for instance, the concept of "The Voice"—a show from his past life. If he had the company produce it, the sheer profit-generating power of such a show would bring unimaginable benefits to their development.

Unfortunately, just as Zhang Le had set his mind on the program, someone else had already beaten him to the punch.

"'The Voice of China'!" Zhang Le looked at the CCTV producer sitting across from him in surprise and blurted out, "Where are you from?"

The producer looked bewildered and asked with a hint of suspicion, "I’m from CCTV."

Yang Xin'er, sitting beside them, looked at Zhang Le, confused.

"Do you know Sister Na? Have you heard of the 'Little Second Class'?" Zhang Le asked. Seeing the man shake his head, he pressed on, "Have you heard of Jay Chou?"

"Phew!" Zhang Le sighed as the man continued to shake his head. He had hoped, just for a moment, that he might have stumbled upon a fellow traveler from his past life.

"So, you're here to invite Xin'er to be a mentor?" Zhang Le asked.

"Mentor?" The producer looked puzzled. He shook his head and said, "Our show doesn't have mentors, only judges. Contestants sing behind a screen; the judges cannot see them and score them based solely on their voices."

"What?" Zhang Le was dumbfounded. He glanced at Yang Xin'er, finding it hard to believe. Whose brilliant idea was this? It was utterly lacking in vision.

No mentors, only judges. And the contestants weren't even turning their backs; they were standing behind a physical screen. Zhang Le felt a stampede of frustration rushing through his mind.

"Looking at the music industry, there are too many idols. We want to use this program to select people who can actually sing. The current atmosphere of the Chinese music scene is truly worrying," the producer explained.

"The industry currently values appearance over vocals. But to change this, it’s not enough to just pick a group of good singers. You have to ensure that those who sing well but lack conventional beauty can become famous—even wildly popular. To achieve that, your show has to be a massive hit, a cultural phenomenon." Zhang Le nodded, then shook his head. "Forgive my frankness, but with your current concept, that will be very difficult."

"Ideas that make a show an overnight sensation aren't exactly easy to come by," the producer sighed. In truth, he lacked confidence in the project. There were plenty of talent shows, and they were all packed with handsome men and beautiful women. Who would watch a show filled with plain-looking people, regardless of how well they sang?

But this was a directive from above; he was just doing his job. He had come to invite Yang Xin'er simply because of her popularity, especially among the youth, hoping to ensure the show wouldn't be completely ignored.

"There are ways to make a voice-focused talent show a hit, provided CCTV is willing to let go of the reins," Zhang Le said with a smile.

"Director Zhang, what do you mean?" The producer frowned.

"'The Voice of China' could be a joint production between CCTV and Xinle Film & Television. We could handle the planning and even the production. I can't guarantee it will be the most popular variety show, but I have confidence it could be the most successful talent competition," Zhang Le said, sensing that the producer lacked passion for the project and seeing an opening.

The producer treated the show like a hot potato. He felt no resentment at Zhang Le’s interference; in fact, he looked at him with interest. "Are you suggesting a co-production, separating the production from the broadcast? Is Xinle looking to get into variety show production?"

"If CCTV has concerns, we can co-produce," Zhang Le replied.

The producer waved his hand. "I need to see your proposal first to see what kind of vision gives you such confidence. I have to believe in you before we can continue this conversation, right?"

"No problem. Our company will have the proposal ready for you to review as soon as possible," Zhang Le said with a smile, though his heart was racing with excitement. He wasn't worried about being cut out after they saw his plan.

"Then I shall wait and see," the producer said.

After the producer left, Yang Xin'er turned to Zhang Le. "You’re really confident. This is a hot potato. If you do it well, it's fine. If you fail, it won't be good for the company."

She was well-connected and had heard rumors about the show. The cultural authorities were dissatisfied with the current state of the industry—where those who couldn't sing were hogging the spotlight while real talent went unnoticed. They wanted to change the culture, but you couldn't exactly suppress or ban the popular idol singers. After realizing that attacking the existing talent shows was futile, they decided to create a show that focused on voice alone to shift the tide.

Do it well, and you’d have a bright future with the authorities. Fail, and your prospects would dim. But was it really that easy to shift the tide of an entire industry?