Chapter Thirty: The Revelation of Cai Yuehua

Shanghai, 8 p.m.

Garen was watching a movie from another world when a sudden knock came at the door, followed by Maile’s voice, “Alan! Manager Cai wants you in his room for a meeting!”

“Got it!” Garen replied, closed his laptop, and opened the door to step out.

He and Maile were sharing a suite, courtesy of the All Things Cola Group, and their lodgings in Shanghai were a clear step up from before.

When Garen entered Manager Cai’s room, he saw it was already crowded—most of the performance troupe had arrived.

Akai, the lead singer of the Zodiac Band, spotted him and immediately waved, “Alan, sit here!”

Garen nodded and, smiling, took the seat. Over the past days, he’d grown familiar with nearly everyone in the troupe, but apart from Aya, his closest bonds were with the members of Zodiac.

Most of the singers brought their own MP3s for accompaniment, but Garen was the exception; he’d performed solo for the first two shows, and since then, the Zodiac Band had been providing his live backup, deepening their camaraderie.

A few more people arrived, and soon the entire troupe was present.

Only then did Cai Yuehua and Old Wang end their discussion. Cai stood up and announced, “Quick update: originally, we were set to perform in Shanghai tomorrow morning, then Jiangcheng in the afternoon. Plans have changed. Now, the Shanghai show is moved to the afternoon, and the Jiangcheng show is cancelled.”

The moment he finished, the room buzzed with conversation.

“So we get to sleep in tomorrow, huh?”

“Why the change? Did something happen?”

“Maybe… I heard the promo for ‘That Year We Graduated’ is in Shanghai tomorrow too—maybe there’s a conflict?”

“I heard that too. Supposedly, Huang Daming is coming to join our All Things Cola roadshow.”

“What? So it’s their fault?”

“What about our pay? We were promised ten shows—now one’s gone, what happens to our money?”

The fee was on everyone’s mind. This was a commercial gig; everything revolved around money. Even an underground rock band like Zodiac cared about compensation.

Hearing the commotion, Cai Yuehua clapped his hands and grinned, “I know what you’re all thinking. Tomorrow’s fee will be calculated as if you performed two shows, since we’ll be extending the performance by two hours. So, basically, each of you will sing two more songs!”

“Oh…”

Everyone relaxed. They were professionals—singing two extra songs was nothing if the money was right.

“Alright, report your song choices to me later. The setlist will be posted on my door by noon tomorrow—check it yourselves!”

Cai Yuehua clapped again. “Meeting adjourned! Alan, stay a moment.”

Garen was just about to leave, but stopped, puzzled by Cai’s request.

The band members clapped him on the shoulder. Akai said, “We’ll head out. Call us if you need anything!”

“Yeah, don’t be shy with us!” added Ermao, the drummer.

Garen smiled and nodded. “Alright, you guys go on ahead.”

Everyone left, and soon only Garen and Cai Yuehua remained.

Cai Yuehua came over and sat across from Garen. “Alan, you wrote songs for Chang’an and Zhengzhou when we toured there, right? Now we’re in Shanghai, and All Things Cola’s headquarters are here. The bosses want you to write a song for the people of Shanghai too. What do you think?”

Garen realized what this was about and felt a headache coming on. He’d already thought about it in his room earlier, but he didn’t have any songs about Shanghai saved on his laptop.

He’d heard two songs about the city on his old second-hand laptop—“The Bund” and “Shanghai Nights”—but neither fit the modern style he was aiming for, and he could barely recall the melodies.

He stammered, “Well… I’m afraid…”

“Alan! I believe in you! Songwriting is nothing for you!” Cai patted him on the shoulder.

Garen shook his head with a wry smile. “Brother Cai, you know it’s not that simple. Those last two songs were small efforts; this time, writing for Shanghai is a tall order.”

“Is it?” Cai raised his eyebrows. “How about this: if you write it, I’ll give you an extra two hundred thousand on top of the fee for two shows!”

Two hundred thousand?

Garen chuckled, still shaking his head. “Brother Cai, time’s too tight. I really can’t do it—not feeling any inspiration!”

Cai was taken aback, sighed, and opened his mouth to persuade further—when suddenly, a knock came at the door.

Garen, eager to escape the awkwardness, quickly got up to answer. He was thinking of sneaking back to bed, but as soon as he opened the door, he saw a very familiar figure—a woman.

At the sight of her, Garen froze, but immediately realized why she was here and had to greet her with a smile. “Ms. Fu, what brings you here?”

“I’ve come to get my song from you!”

It was none other than Fu Chunli from All Things Cola Group.

She squeezed her hefty figure into the room, beaming at Cai Yuehua. “Old Cai, is Garen’s song ready?”

“Uh…” Cai looked at Garen, embarrassed. “Well, it’s almost done!”

“Good!” Fu Chunli clapped her hands, laughing. “Garen, write this song and I’ll pay you half a million! Make sure it’s a good one!”

“Half a million?” Garen blurted out, nearly biting his tongue.

He looked back at Cai Yuehua, only to see Cai’s face had turned ashen, his eyes flickering. Under Garen’s gaze, Cai’s breathing grew rapid, his pupils contracted and dilated, and his face flushed crimson.

In that instant, something flashed through Garen’s mind, and he abruptly understood: the deal must have always been half a million, and Cai had planned to skim three hundred thousand for himself.

Garen stared at him, his expression shifting from surprise to disappointment, then to anger.

For a moment, he truly wanted to grab Cai by the collar and give him a slap, demanding to know why.

But in the next instant, he saw through it all. Heh, after all this time, he thought he and Cai could be considered friends—but it turned out, he was just being used.

In the end, it was always about the money.

Garen gave a soft, bitter laugh and his emotions gradually calmed. In the end, his gaze was icy and indifferent.

Cai Yuehua clearly felt the change in Garen’s attitude and could only keep up a forced smile, not daring to meet his eyes.

Garen turned to Fu Chunli. “Ms. Fu, rest assured! I’ll have the song ready for tomorrow.”

Fu Chunli’s face blossomed with delight. “Perfect! By the way, I wanted to ask if you could make the song a bit more pop?”

“More pop?” Garen considered it. His previous songs were folk, a style not to everyone’s taste. Fu’s request was clear: she wanted an accessible, commercial pop hit.

“Of course! Don’t worry, you’ll love it,” Garen replied with a smile.

Fu Chunli laughed. “Just so you know, our company is still searching for this year’s ad jingle. I’ll put your name forward; if your song is chosen, you could even be our brand ambassador!”

“Thank you so much, Ms. Fu!” Garen smiled, then asked, “By the way, you said you’d pay me half a million. When will that be settled? If I’m going to write it tonight, I’ll need to book a studio straight away. You know, commercial pop isn’t like folk—you can’t just grab a guitar, there’s a lot more to it.”

“I understand!” Fu Chunli said cheerfully. “I’ve already given the money to Old Cai—just ask him for it!”

“Oh, I see!” Garen turned to Cai Yuehua. “Manager Cai, could you give it to me now?”

“Ah! Heh, of course, of course!” Cai stammered, now deeply embarrassed. Returning the money felt like cutting out his own heart, but he could only grit his teeth, take a checkbook from his briefcase, and hand Garen a check.

Garen examined it, then showed it to Fu Chunli for confirmation. “Ms. Fu, is this the right one?”

“That’s it!” Fu Chunli nodded, though she couldn’t help but feel something was off between the two men.

Garen pocketed the check. “Ms. Fu, let’s go. We shouldn’t bother Manager Cai any longer. We can talk on the way.”

“Oh! Alright!” Fu Chunli glanced at Cai Yuehua. “Old Cai, we’re off!”

Cai hurried forward to see them out. “Take care, Ms. Fu! Let me walk you out!”

“No need, no need!” Fu Chunli waved him off. “Get some rest—you’ve got a busy day tomorrow!”

Once the door closed, Cai Yuehua stomped his feet in frustration, cursing Garen for his ingratitude and Fu Chunli for her terrible timing.

But in the end, there was nothing he could do. After stewing in anger for a while, he could only collapse on the bed in misery.

Meanwhile, after seeing Fu Chunli off, Garen returned to his room and called Wu Zhaoyang, recounting everything that had happened, with Maile listening in.

After a moment of silence, Wu Zhaoyang replied, “Don’t worry about the show. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Okay,” Garen said. “By the way, Brother Wu, who set my performance fee in the first place? The agency or All Things Cola?”

“The agency!” Wu Zhaoyang answered, then sounded surprised. “Wait—you mean…”

Garen smiled. “Brother Wu, there are some things I can’t deal with myself. I’ll leave it to you.”

“Alright! Just get some rest. Leave it to me,” Wu Zhaoyang said.