Chapter 166: Playing the Game by Taking a Different Path
Lu Zhou's sudden spike in internet popularity caught the attention of a certain individual.
That person was Qiu Mingbo.
Previously, Pan Chengyi had approached Qiu Mingbo at Lu Zhou's request for an in-depth conversation, sincerely inviting him to join Legendary Entertainment as the Executive Strategic President of Artists.
Legendary Entertainment? Qiu Mingbo had a bewildered expression upon hearing the name at the time.
Which newly registered, small-time entertainment agency was this? He had never even heard of it.
And where on earth did they get the audacity and confidence to invite him to be their executive president of artists?
When he asked who the boss was, Pan Chengyi answered: Lu Zhou.
Qiu Mingbo fell silent on the spot.
He didn't deny that the name Lu Zhou had recently created a massive buzz in the entertainment industry, nor did he deny that Lu Zhou possessed decent potential and wouldn't do poorly in the future if he found the right developmental path, but...
Qiu Mingbo still felt somewhat insulted.
That's right. Back in the day, Tanyin Entertainment had gone too far, prompting him to resign in anger and walk out with a group of their top-tier, well-known artists, joining Shixiang Entertainment in a high-profile move that shocked the entire entertainment circle.
Although Shixiang Entertainment became the biggest beneficiary of that incident, they also grew wary of Qiu Mingbo due to the precedent he had set by pulling away artists.
Nowadays, Qiu Mingbo was being suppressed within Shixiang. The management had gradually hollowed out his absolute control over the artists under his command through various tactics.
Falling into such a calculated trap had noticeably dragged Qiu Mingbo's career down compared to his glory days. He was indeed deeply disappointed with Shixiang Entertainment and had already planned to leave.
Yet, even so, that did not mean he had fallen so far as to join a newly registered entertainment agency that only had a single artist under its umbrella...
Wasn't this just a personal celebrity studio?
What difference did this make from striking out on his own to start a business?
If he really wanted to start a business, he would simply go solo. Given his influence, the moment he registered a company, more than just a single artist would apply to join...
At the time, Qiu Mingbo did not believe that the output value of Lu Zhou's individual artist studio could be large enough to whet his appetite.
Therefore, he had flatly refused on the spot.
However, Lu Zhou's confident invitation for him to join Legendary Entertainment also subconsciously made Qiu Mingbo keep an eye on the young man's progress.
Today's sudden surge in entertainment buzz and the hidden implications behind it finally began to make Qiu Mingbo genuinely interested in Lu Zhou.
Taking Elder Qin as his master was a rather fascinating move.
It could be said that Lu Zhou had successfully leveraged Elder Qin's network to officially step into the classical music circle.
Qiu Mingbo had once analyzed Lu Zhou's fame trajectory.
If you dissect how Lu Zhou managed to build up such massive popularity so quickly, you would realize that he had constantly been taking unconventional paths.
His initial wave of popularity stemmed from his first mainstream romantic ballad that catered to popular aesthetics—a track titled "First Love," where people could instinctively hum the melody after listening to it once or twice. He hitched a ride on Ye Fangfei's debut TikTok video to generate a massive wave of initial promotional traction for his launch.
Then, he rolled out promotions step-by-step, gradually expanding the song's reach into the public eye. Finally, he capitalized on the sentimental wave of the graduation season to catapult the track into a massive hit.
Even up to that point, Lu Zhou's personal fame hadn't truly blown up yet.
Wanting a singer to become an overnight sensation with a single song? That was extremely difficult.
There were plenty of songs in the entertainment industry that became hits while the singers remained obscure.
Lu Zhou was actually quite clever. Since the song alone didn't make him famous, he subsequently leveraged the exposure of his ex-girlfriend reality dating show, aggressively riding the couple-shipping wave to rapidly ignite his personal fame.
By then, everyone subconsciously assumed that Lu Zhou's subsequent personal development roadmap would definitely be: strive to release more high-quality pop songs, drive massive album sales, boost existing fan loyalty, and then lay the groundwork for new opportunities to stack his fame.
Yet he didn't do that. Instead, he turned around and stuck a foot into the classical music circle.
By becoming Qin Yi's apprentice, he directly connected with the top-tier networking circle of domestic classical music.
Once you connect with the network of another circle, you have to pull out genuine strength to convince the people within that circle; otherwise, those connections are just empty shells.
Therefore, at his apprenticeship banquet, Lu Zhou showcased an original piano sonata of his own composition, bringing immense prestige to Elder Qin right on the spot. With that, he had basically secured a preliminary foothold in Elder Qin's network entirely through his own strength.
What Lu Zhou was playing wasn't the standard playbook. He was deeply ambitious, launching his conquest directly from the upper echelons.
Of course, without sufficient strength to back it up, this style of play would inevitably collapse in the end.
Qiu Mingbo guessed that Lu Zhou wanted to have the best of both worlds, dominating both the pop music circle and the classical music circle.
Such a developmental roadmap truly differed from mainstream strategies.
However, without sufficient strength, this kind of gameplay was genuinely not recommended.
How many people could mix between two different circles and excel in both simultaneously?
Up until now, he hadn't seen anyone do it.
Wang Yanhua? He had actually only mastered classical music; pop music had no place for him. When he crossed over and gained exposure in the entertainment industry, he was merely living off his accumulated prestige in the classical music sphere, purely following the traffic-driven commercial route rather than carving out any new territory in pop music.
If one insisted on an example of someone who genuinely and seriously played music back and forth between the two circles, Ye Fangfei was the only one in the entertainment industry.
Yet, as Ye Fangfei played this game, her shortcomings had already become glaringly obvious.
Distraction was the biggest problem. She had neither achieved Wang Yanhua's status in the classical music circle nor reached the absolute summit of the pop music circle.
Moreover, Ye Fangfei's situation was quite unique and hard to replicate. She evidently possessed extraordinary financial backing and formidable resources behind her, which was why she could pull off such a play.
On the other hand, choosing to play this game without a powerful background similar to Ye Fangfei's meant that Lu Zhou was taking quite a calculated risk.
Play it well, and he might achieve legendary status.
Play it poorly, and both sides would turn out utterly mediocre.
Yet, looking at the current momentum... Lu Zhou's opening move in the classical music circle had been fiercely impressive. Qiu Mingbo suddenly had a premonition that perhaps Lu Zhou could actually pull this off.
Truly excellent classical music could be passed down through the ages, but how long could a pop song remain popular?
Someone capable of composing an original piece like "Starlight Sonata" should have a pursuit of music that was far from simple.
Before he had even completely secured his footing in the entertainment industry, he decisively chose to step one foot into the classical music circle first. Lu Zhou's entertainment blueprint was truly worth pondering deeply.
However, Qiu Mingbo wasn't a musician; he was merely an agent skilled in helping artists chase fame and fortune. In his eyes, no matter how grand a musician's artistic sentiments were, their commercial monetization capability was far more important.
Lu Zhou's situation still warranted further observation.
Qiu Mingbo dug up Lu Zhou's only three original works, listening to them on repeat, and then tried to deduce how he would plan Lu Zhou's subsequent career path based on the existing body of work if he were Lu Zhou's agent.
Even for him, facing such a scenario felt thorny and tricky.
Lu Zhou's developmental roadmap at this stage possessed an excessively strong sense of autonomy. It would likely be very difficult for any agent to interfere with the path he wanted to take.
That being the case, the question arose: what was Lu Zhou plotting by inviting Qiu Mingbo to become Legendary Entertainment's executive president of artists?
It couldn't possibly just be for a resounding reputation within the industry, could it?
At this moment, Qiu Mingbo still could not fathom Lu Zhou's true intentions.
...
What was the goal in inviting Qiu Mingbo?
Meanwhile, back at Legendary Entertainment, Pan Chengyi was also chatting with Lu Zhou about the topic of agents, coincidentally touching upon why Lu Zhou was so fixated on Qiu Mingbo.
"Don't look at how Qiu Mingbo is currently being suppressed by Shixiang Entertainment; his resource-mobilization ability is actually still top-notch."
"I want him to come over not just to act as my personal agent. In fact, purely from the perspective of my personal development, I don't need an agent that badly. Anyone else could handle the job just as well."
"Because I don't need anyone else to plan out where I should walk or what kind of jobs I should take."
"I want to take this opportunity to bring him on board because I hope he can fulfill a much larger functional role. This role won't be realized through me, but through other artists who will join Legendary Entertainment in the future."
"Right now, if we only pitch this pie to him, he won't be willing to come. Therefore, I can only rely on myself to attract him over."
These were Lu Zhou's exact words, his gaze resolute as he spoke.
After listening, Pan Chengyi marveled at how far-sighted Lu Zhou's thinking was...
But was this ultimately a good thing or a bad thing?
After all, Lu Zhou's own personal development was still at a stage that gave his team headaches. Before he had even climbed high enough, starting to prepare for the company signing other artists in the future—wasn't that being a bit too overly cautious and premature?
However, upon second thought, no matter what, cooperating with Qiu Mingbo would undoubtedly be for the best if it could actually happen.
Pan Chengyi had now discovered that Lu Zhou had extremely strong opinions regarding his own development direction and didn't seem to need an agent all that much. Having an assistant was roughly enough to handle most of the work.
Therefore, an agent arriving a bit later wouldn't affect much, so he simply let Lu Zhou have his way.
...
The wave of trending searches involving Lu Zhou and Wang Yanhua had sparked a fierce war between their two fanbases, arguing online every day over who was better, seemingly pushing the relationship between the two fanbases to an irreconcilable point.
In the end, Lu Zhou posted a Weibo update that finally quieted down the spit-swapping war between the two camps.
Lu Zhou: [The piano techniques of my two senior brothers are heights I can only look up to. @SongYi @WangYanhua]
The comment section—
Wang Yanhua reposted and replied to Lu Zhou: [Practice diligently under Master's guidance. I believe your technique will catch up to ours before long. I look forward to our junior brother's future performances; right now, I'm actually more envious of junior brother's creative inspiration.]
Song Yi reposted and replied to Wang Yanhua: [Ditto, envious as well.]
After a bout of online farce, the three of them reconciled.
Was it a superficial reconciliation? No, it was a genuine reconciliation.
Wang Yanhua wasn't annoyed by the controversy of being secretly filmed by an unknown person and dragged onto the trending searches, because he had recently been busy studying how to perform "Starlight Sonata" with his own personal style and attempting to surpass Lu Zhou's performance version.
Song Yi was the same.
As a result, the more the two practiced, the more they felt that this piece was extraordinary and that the movements were utterly brilliant! Consequently, their hearts began to fill with admiration for this junior brother of theirs.
Of course, the moment they truly developed a deep sense of admiration for Lu Zhou was when they witnessed with their own eyes their Master playing another of Lu Zhou's grand original masterpieces, "Void," using the pipe organ at home.
When the two of them encountered "Void" once again, it was no longer the simple electronic keyboard version they had casually heard in short video clips.
The arrangement of "Void" had undergone rich transformations, consisting of a total of five suites. Every suite sounded like a different story, yet when played in succession, the musical notes exuded a magnificent sense of narrative immersion. Played out on a pipe organ, it was simply soul-cleansing!
After listening to all five suites, Wang Yanhua and Song Yi were incomparably shaken inside.
The vinyl recording of "Void" was personally handled and performed by Qin Yi to help Lu Zhou record it, resulting in exceptionally high quality.
However, after the record was finished, Lu Zhou was in no rush to release it.
Pan Chengyi asked why they weren't putting it online for sale to start making money.
Lu Zhou: "Releasing it now won't make much money. Music like 'Void' is something only people in the classical music circle will pay to buy right now."
Pan Chengyi grew even more puzzled.
"You should have been clear when you wrote this type of music in the first place that it targets the money of that small niche in the classical circle, along with performance copyright fees from that crowd. You surely don't expect the general public to buy this record, do you?"
"Such a high-quality record has been recorded. If we don't release it now, when will we? Are we leaving it in a corner to gather dust?"
Lu Zhou smiled and gave a simple response: "Wait a little longer."
Pan Chengyi: "Wait for what?"
Lu Zhou: "Wait for a bigger opportunity."
Pan Chengyi hadn't expected that the "bigger opportunity" Lu Zhou spoke of would arrive so soon.
Through the networking web of Qin Yi's circle in the film scoring industry, Lu Zhou's piece "Void" caught the attention of David North, a renowned director at America's Greify Entertainment Center.
When David North heard that classic three-minute melody of "Void," he froze completely. Recovering his senses a moment later, he abruptly stood up from his seat in excitement.
"Who is the composer?! I want to meet him!"
To hear the full version of "Void," David North flew all the way from America just to meet Lu Zhou in person.
The instant Lu Zhou saw David North, the corners of his lips curved into a satisfied smile.
At David North's request, Lu Zhou personally played the interconnected five suites of "Void" for him on the pipe organ.
David North, an internationally acclaimed director and a tall man standing over six feet, was moved to tears amidst Lu Zhou's piano melodies.
"Good! Excellent!" At the conclusion of the performance, David North practically clapped his hands raw, saying excitedly: "This piece 'Void' of yours was simply born for my movie 'Dialogue with the Stars'!"
"I want to use your song as the score for my new sci-fi film. Are you willing?"
Lu Zhou had been waiting precisely for this opportunity; how could he possibly be unwilling?
In the end, "Void" was sold for over thirty million to the Greify sci-fi blockbuster "Dialogue with the Stars" as its musical score, excluding subsequent copyright revenues from the release of the film's original soundtrack album.
Pan Chengyi was stunned. So this was what Lu Zhou meant by "waiting for a bigger opportunity"! So formidable... Lu Zhou once again left a brilliant, high-profile moment in Pan Chengyi's heart.
The employees of Legendary Entertainment had never truly felt the lucrative charm of the company, but with this single maneuver by Lu Zhou, everyone's hearts suddenly overflowed with an unprecedented level of trust in him!
Lu Zhou's classical-styled piece "Void" selling for over thirty million overnight—excluding future royalty revenues from the music's release when the movie premiered—caused a massive sensation in the entertainment industry the moment the news broke out.
All the heavyweights in the film scoring circle were dumbfounded.
[Terrifying! May I ask which domestic film composer's arrangement could ever sell for this price!]
[The domestic scoring market is in a slump and could never fetch this price, so he sold it overseas and collaborated directly with David North. All I can say is awesome.]
[The key is how did he manage to sell it overseas? I want to sell to foreign films too, but nobody wants mine!]
[It's probably sheer coincidence. Elder Qin probably bridged the connection, and the composition just happened to catch David North's eye, and it worked out. This sort of thing really depends on having the right time, place, and people.]
[It's truly not that simple. David North actually has a fixed roster of renowned composers he collaborates with. To be chosen by him and sell at this price... your skill level has to surpass his go-to composer heavyweights first!]
[Indeed, I suddenly feel like this Lu Zhou is freakishly abnormal. Hiding for ten years and suddenly exploding, what kind of background does he even have?]
[I'll boldly predict: could he be a time-traveling overpowered protagonist, haha?]
[You read too many web novels, right?]
...
When Qiu Mingbo saw this news, he laughed.
To pull off another unexpected move right out of an unexpected gameplay...
Damn it, this kid really has been taking unconventional paths all along!
Interesting, immensely interesting!
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