Chapter 62: Her Own Studio!

The smog swept in with overwhelming force, and in just one night, the capital was completely conquered. Walking in the streets, people could not see each other's faces even when standing face to face. The entire city finally understood what it meant to feel pain with every breath.

Galen first took Chen Yingying to the Central Academy of Drama, then spent nearly two hours on the subway before finally reaching the headquarters of the national television network. Wu Chaoyang was busy today with matters related to “Ghost Blows Out the Light,” and with traffic being so difficult, only Galen came this time.

Arriving at the floor where Channel Two was located, Galen headed straight for the studio in search of Lu Muchen. There weren’t many people working on that floor, as Channel Two only produced two original shows: one variety show called “Joyful Gathering” and another called “Happy Seven Plus One.” All other variety programs were co-produced with television production companies. As long as the production company delivered the edited tapes, the station would broadcast them.

“Dream Starlight Show” had received such favorable conditions precisely because it had been a mainstay of Channel Two for several years. Entering the studio, Galen saw several veteran musicians on stage tuning their instruments. He went straight up, rolled up his sleeves, and started to help.

“Hey, Galen’s here!”

The musicians greeted him warmly.

“Where’s Master Lu?” he asked.

“In the sound control room; he’ll be down soon. Have you eaten?”

“Yes, I have!”

They chatted casually for a few moments before Lu Muchen arrived. Upon seeing Galen, Lu smiled and asked, “So, did you sleep well last night?”

“I slept well,” Galen replied.

“Warm up your voice a bit! If you’re ready, we’ll get started.”

Galen nodded and, while they adjusted the sound equipment, went to a corner and called out a few notes. In fact, he had already practiced at home before coming. The twenty minutes after waking up each morning were the golden time for vocal exercises, and he did this every day.

The rehearsal formally began, and overall, it felt much smoother than the previous day. There were hardly any hiccups, and singing in such a well-equipped studio was far less strenuous than performing in bars or at music festivals. After nearly an hour, Lu Muchen finally gave his approval.

He then called over the program director to arrange for Galen to learn his stage movements. As for stage presence, the company had already hired teachers to coach Galen, so there were no issues. What he needed to pay attention to was that this was a televised program, with cameras following him constantly, so from the moment he left the dressing room, every second was under the gaze of the national audience—there could be no carelessness.

By late morning, all rehearsals were finished. Galen invited Lu Muchen and the musicians to lunch to show his appreciation. Afterward, everyone went their separate ways, and Galen took the subway to the company.

His three demo tracks had not yet begun production. The company’s music director was vacationing in the US, and Li Ronghao was busy with numerous matters, so everything had been postponed. With this free time, Galen thought he might as well ask Liu Xiayu if he could try producing them himself.

Back at the company, he ran into Mai Le, who had just come out of the elevator.

“Galen! I was just about to head to Channel Two to find you. Why are you back?”

“Rehearsal’s done, so I came back,” Galen laughed. “I’m not an employee of national television—what would I do hanging around there?”

“Oh, right—I was looking for you to sign some documents!” Mai Le handed him over a dozen sheets of A4 paper.

“What’s this?” Galen flipped through them and saw they were copyright authorization contracts for “Ghost Blows Out the Light.”

“This is the electronic copyright agreement with Qichuang Net. The online tips for ‘Ghost Blows Out the Light’ have already exceeded five hundred thousand. With this contract, you get half! Future chapters will be released as VIP subscriptions, and you’ll get a share from that, too!”

“Five hundred thousand!” Galen couldn’t help but gasp. He’d always enjoyed reading web novels and was familiar with the market. It wasn’t unheard of for a book to receive over five hundred thousand in tips, but that usually took more than a year. This book had only been online for a month, and without any contract, to have received so much already—was this another record-breaking phenomenon?

Sure enough, Mai Le laughed, “Qichuang Net said your book is a miracle. Lots of readers are tipping you heavily, begging for more chapters, but you never show up. Their customer service gets bombarded daily by readers wanting to know your real identity. But when you registered, you only filled in a name and a CC chat account, and you never accepted anyone’s friend requests!”

“Oh!” Galen remembered his CC account—he’d registered it solely to publish “Ghost Blows Out the Light,” and then never logged in again.

“My fault, all my fault!” He chuckled awkwardly, and as he and Mai Le entered the elevator, he quickly signed the contracts—Wu Chaoyang had already handled the details, like ID number and phone, so all that was left was his signature.

After Galen finished signing, Mai Le checked over the papers and was finally satisfied. “Great! I’ll send these off to the logistics department. By the way, your book’s been handed over to our publishing house, so a physical release is likely coming soon. You’ll be busy then!”

Yida was in the culture industry itself, with both publishing and magazine arms. However, with the rise of the internet, these traditional outlets had fallen into decline, especially the publishing house, which now survived only by publishing books from big-name celebrities.

A couple of years ago, in an attempt to save the publisher, several actors under Yida hired ghostwriters to put out books. At first, it worked well, and the publisher made a profit. But eventually, the public saw through it; it was just a money-making game for celebrities and the company, exploiting fans. Even the most devoted supporters eventually grew tired of it and stopped spending.

Arriving at the music company’s floor, Galen got off the elevator while Mai Le continued up to logistics. Galen found Li Ronghao, who was buried in a mountain of paperwork. Galen knocked politely, and when Li Ronghao looked up, he said with a smile, “Director Li, may I come in?”

“Of course! Come on in!” Li Ronghao stood up, beaming. “No need to knock—this is your place, too. I heard you were rehearsing at national TV today. How was the atmosphere?”

“It’s fine,” Galen replied with a smile. “It’s not as intimidating as people say.”

Li Ronghao laughed, “Well, that’s because you went to Channel Two! Back when there weren’t so many channels, I once went to do a voiceover for a documentary. They even frisked me at the door!”

“Really?” Galen was surprised. He’d just passed through a security gate—no frisking at all.

Li Ronghao chuckled, “Times change! Management at the network has become more relaxed. Ever since they split production from broadcasting, it’s much easier to get in. But making a living there is harder than ever. Those who work there now are all incredibly well-connected.”

“I’ve heard that, too,” Galen agreed. It was common knowledge, not just within the industry but among the general public. The national broadcaster was like Zhongnan Lake—not just anyone could get in, no matter how talented; connections were essential.

Fortunately, the network only signed hosts, not artists. Otherwise, only a giant like China Film could compete—no other entertainment company could stand a chance.

After a bit of small talk, Galen got to the point. “Director Li, when will we start on those three songs I submitted?”

Li Ronghao widened his eyes. “You only handed them in a few days ago and you’re already anxious? Have you written anything else?”

“Almost done!” Galen grinned. “I’m not in a hurry, just curious. If production is starting soon, I’d like to observe and learn. If not, could I maybe try producing myself?”

“No need for that,” Li Ronghao said with a wave. “The equipment is all being replaced. We’ve just placed an order with foreign suppliers for new gear, and the old studio is sealed off. Even if you wanted to try, you couldn’t.”

“Why are we changing everything?” Galen was surprised. “Is it really necessary?”

Li Ronghao laughed. “Maybe you and I don’t think so, but Liu Xiayu is extremely demanding when it comes to music. She apparently sold a big chunk of her shares to invest in the new equipment. It’ll arrive next week, and it’ll take another week to install and calibrate everything. So production on your songs won’t start until at least the week after next.”

“What about the old equipment?” Galen’s mind began to turn. If the gear was up for sale, why not keep it for himself? He didn’t have much money, but he could always write an IOU to the company. With that equipment, he could set up his own studio and wouldn’t have to fiddle around in his bedroom anymore.

“There are two sets of gear!” Li Ronghao sighed. “I have no idea what Liu Xiayu intends to do with it all. The equipment at her old studio is even better than ours, and she’s getting rid of that too. I really don’t know what she’s thinking.”

“Um…” Galen rubbed his hands. “Director Li, how about this: could I keep our company’s old set? Maybe ask Liu Xiayu to hold off on selling it?”

“You want our studio’s equipment?” Li Ronghao’s eyes narrowed. “What for?”

“I want to set up my own studio, record some demos and such.”

“Oh?” Li Ronghao was puzzled. “Why not ask for her studio’s gear? It’s better than ours.”

“I can’t afford that much,” Galen replied, spreading his hands. “I just need something simple that works.”

Li Ronghao stroked his chin, then suddenly clapped his hands. “Alright! I’ll mention it to Liu Xiayu. After all, you’re writing songs for her, right? You need your own space. I think it should be fine.”

“Thank you so much!” Galen said, smiling gratefully.

Li Ronghao waved a hand. “No need to thank me. I’m just passing the message along. Now, go write more good songs!”