Chapter 140: Hong Kong Music and Cinema

Of course, Fang Xing also felt it was a pity to lose an endorsement worth tens of millions. However, since it had already been snatched away, there was no point in dwelling on the negative emotions. It was better to channel that energy into his work and strive to win back even more endorsements.

With this in mind, Fang Xing clapped his hands to encourage his studio staff. Qiao Yinghong joined in, then transitioned to the next meeting topic: "The focus of our upcoming work is the recording of the next episode of *The Voice*. Has the boss decided which song to perform?"

Having just returned from Xiangjiang, Fang Xing hadn't had time to think about it. "I haven't decided yet. My current thought is to sing a Cantonese song."

Qiao Yinghong considered this for a moment and said, "Losing the Baoboli endorsement might not be a bad thing. We can aim for a brand that better aligns with our positioning. However, while we have the traffic, our seniority and industry standing are still relatively thin. To gain recognition from top-tier brands, we need more. So, I suggest we pull out a 'trump card' for the next episode of *The Voice*. At the very least, we cannot let Liu Hongsheng overshadow us.

"The matter of the Baoboli endorsement being snatched might not even be Liu Hongsheng's idea; it's more likely the work of his manager, Hu Changqing. I’ve dealt with that man for many years. He is very cunning, holds grudges, and is notoriously arrogant in the entertainment industry. Based on what I know of him, he definitely intends to snatch the endorsement and then suppress us in *The Voice* to prove the status of their 'Heavenly King.' If he succeeds, he will surely use this to belittle us whenever we meet at future galas."

"I see..." Fang Xing grew thoughtful. A moment later, he replied, "I understand. Then I’ll just play a 'bomb' card."

Qiao Yinghong’s eyes lit up. "If the boss says so, then I’m confident." She paused, then remembered something else. "Oh, by the way, boss, in the last few months, the studio has received countless song requests from singers and record companies—they’re like fish crossing a river. There are also smaller singers sending demos, wanting you to listen to their vocal quality. I haven't bothered you with the unimportant ones, but there are a few requests you should consider.

"The first is from the Diva Zhang Huiying. This goes back to *Star of Tomorrow*. But what was said on the show could be taken as a joke. If you don't want to take her request, just tell me, and I’ll find a way to decline without causing any hard feelings."

Back on *Star of Tomorrow*, Zhang Huiying was a mentor and had requested a song from him multiple times on the show. Fang Xing’s response then had been: "Let's talk after the show ends." Now, three months after the show, Zhang Huiying's manager had indeed formally reached out.

Fang Xing thought for a moment and said, "Cooperation with Zhang Huiying can be considered, but there’s no rush. We can agree to it, but keep the timing flexible. When a suitable song comes along, we will collaborate." After all, it was something he had promised on the show, and Zhang Huiying was a top-tier Diva—collaborating with her wouldn't be a loss. Of course, working with her wouldn't be like treating Li Caiwei as a vocal tool; she was a Diva, and her status commanded respect. As for the request, it didn't mean they had to work together immediately. Music is a matter of fate. Zhang Huiying’s team would understand that, so there was no rush; they would collaborate when the time was right.

Qiao Yinghong nodded. "Understood. Zhang Huiying has great public appeal. A song with her could quickly boost our own public image." Although Fang Xing was talented, he had debuted through a boy band competition show, which, in the eyes of the general public, was often associated with "fan economy," making it hard to gain mainstream appeal. Still, that could change. Since *The Voice* began airing, his public perception had already started to improve. Collaborating with Zhang Huiying would only accelerate that.

***

Having spent the last two days recording, Fang Xing wanted to rest and "be a couch potato" for a couple of days upon returning to Donghai. *Liaozhai: Painted Skin* had been in theaters for over a month, with a total box office of 460 million—a very impressive result. Green Bird Media had already announced the launch of the second installment.

Since the film was nearing the end of its theatrical run, Fang Xing considered going to see it. He took out his phone and sent a WeChat message to Lu Xiang'er: "Do you want to see *Liaozhai*? It’s almost out of theaters."

Not long after, Lu Xiang'er replied: "Are we going to see a movie on a weekday?"

Fang Xing: "Seeing a movie on a weekday means we won't get mobbed."

Lu Xiang'er: "That seems true."

Fang Xing: "So that’s a yes?"

Lu Xiang'er: "I have another movie I want to see. Is it okay if we don't watch *Liaozhai*?"

Fang Xing: "Sure, what do you want to see?"

Lu Xiang'er: "*Memory of Time*."

Fang Xing had seen this title while checking box office figures on his phone. The film told a story about the changing times in Xiangjiang. Come to think of it, the narrative structure was somewhat similar to *Echoes of the Rainbow* from his previous world, though *Memory of Time* was set in post-millennial Xiangjiang, focusing on the changes after the new millennium, whereas the other was set in the 1960s. Both were stories recording the passage of time, just in different eras. Fang Xing just wanted to watch a movie during his break, so the specific title didn't matter much.

Fang Xing: "Aren't girls supposed to like sweet romance films? Why do you want to watch a movie with such deep themes?"

Lu Xiang'er: "So what? I’m in a different class, can't I? (Akimbo and pouting.jpg)"

Fang Xing: "Of course you can. Tonight then, 5:00 PM or 8:00 PM?"

Lu Xiang'er: "Can't we do 7:00 PM?"

Fang Xing: "At 5:00, we can make it in time for dinner. At 8:00, we can eat first. 7:00 is a bit awkward."

Lu Xiang'er: "Then let's do 8:00. But it’ll be very late when it finishes."

Fang Xing: "Do you have classes this afternoon? At school or home?"

Lu Xiang'er: "Yes, at school."

Fang Xing: "Then I’ll see you at the school gate at 5:30."

***

At 5:30 PM, Fang Xing drove to the entrance of the Donghai Conservatory of Music. Not long after, Lu Xiang'er walked out with Ning Xiaoyun. Seeing Fang Xing, she waved from a distance and hurried over.

Ning Xiaoyun greeted them with a grin: "Already going to movies? You two have things going on."

Lu Xiang'er quickly shook her head to deny it: "No, no, we were just planning to catch *Liaozhai* before it left theaters, but there are no night screenings left."

Ning Xiaoyun teased, "Then I want to go too."

Fang Xing didn't mind. "Sure, come along."

Ning Xiaoyun pouted: "I'm just teasing you. I don't want to watch such a boring movie. Remember to call me when you go see a big-budget special effects film."

Lu Xiang'er argued: "*Memory of Time* has excellent reviews."

Ning Xiaoyun shook her head: "I don't care, I'm not watching such a boring movie. I'm leaving to find someone for skewers." She waved and walked away.

Fang Xing opened the car door for Lu Xiang'er. Once inside, she asked curiously, "When did you get your driver's license?"

Fang Xing thought for a moment. "The month before last."

Lu Xiang'er widened her eyes, holding up two fingers. "Only two months? Are you sure you're okay?"

Fang Xing smiled without answering. He reminded her to buckle her seatbelt, shifted gears, signaled, and merged onto the main road, pressing down on the accelerator. Lu Xiang'er was startled and quickly grabbed the handle above the window.

They arrived at the Donghai World Trade Plaza and headed straight to the underground parking garage. After parking, Fang Xing walked to the other side and opened the passenger door. "Get out."

As she stepped out, Lu Xiang'er breathed a sigh of relief. "Actually, we weren't in a rush."

Fang Xing replied casually, "We weren't, but that's just how I drive."

Lu Xiang'er glared at him. "Then I’m never getting in your car again."

"Did you only ride in turtle-cars before? I wasn't speeding." Fang Xing found her reaction amusing.

"I don't care, I felt like you were speeding," she pouted.

"Let's go. Dinner first, then the cinema. Have you decided what to eat?" Fang Xing took her hand and walked toward the elevator.

Lu Xiang'er took a few steps, then pulled her hand back, tucking it behind her back awkwardly. Fang Xing looked back and teased, "It's not like we haven't held hands before."

"We have not!" she pouted.

"At the Tuojiang jumping rocks, you were the one who insisted on grabbing my hand and wouldn't let go," Fang Xing laughed.

"No, I don't remember that. You have no proof." She turned her face away, refusing to admit it.

"Let's go, let's go get the steak buffet. If we're any later, we might miss the start of the movie." Fang Xing reached behind her, grabbed her hand, and pulled her along. This time, he used a bit more force, holding it firmly.

Lu Xiang'er struggled a bit, but couldn't break free, so she stopped resisting, allowing herself to be pulled along awkwardly. Because he was holding on firmly and the weather was warm, coupled with her nervousness, her palms were quite sweaty by the time they reached the elevator. Fang Xing didn't let go, and they went upstairs in that awkward state, arriving at the steak buffet.

Once inside the restaurant, Lu Xiang'er perked up. There was so much to eat, and she could eat whatever she wanted. She quickly became immersed in the joy of mixing her fruit salad. While she was mixing, Fang Xing stole some fruit from her plate with his fork.

"Hey! It's not mixed yet, wait a minute!" she tried to stop him, but couldn't.

"The joy of stealing food isn't something you can get from a formal meal," Fang Xing said, continuing to eat.

"I haven't even finished mixing it and you've already eaten half!" She shielded the large plate with both hands, pretending to be very angry.

However, she understood the joy of stealing food. When she was a child, she loved to sneak into the kitchen and steal food with her fingers before it was served. She would be scolded every time, and every time she would apologize, but she never changed her habit.

Once she was sure Fang Xing wouldn't reach out again, she began to eat, saying, "Actually, I loved stealing food in the kitchen when I was little. But I wasn't in Donghai then, I was in Xiangjiang."

Fang Xing asked with a frown, "You grew up in Xiangjiang?"

Lu Xiang'er thought for a moment. "I don't know if you'd call it that. When I was very young, my parents went to Xiangjiang for business. Before elementary school, I was raised by my grandparents. Later, when it was time for elementary school, my parents brought me to the Wan Chai area. In the third grade, my parents moved back to Donghai, and I followed."

As she spoke, she rested her chin on her hand and looked out the window, a nostalgic expression on her face. "Back then, Xiangjiang was crowded, and the streets were very interesting. But when I went back to visit later, the streets had been rebuilt, and it didn't feel like it did when I was a child."

Hearing her reminiscence, Fang Xing finally understood why she wanted to see the movie. "Is that why you wanted to see *Memory of Time*?"

Lu Xiang'er nodded. "Yeah, this movie records the changes of an era in Xiangjiang. Watching it helps me understand those times. Many of the old streets in Xiangjiang have been rebuilt now; you can't find that feeling anymore."

Fang Xing nodded in agreement. "True, times change too fast. The old streets of Xiangjiang, much like Cantonese music, have become a microcosm of an era."

He had been planning to sing a Cantonese song for the next episode of *The Voice*. Watching this movie could provide a side perspective on the evolution of Cantonese music. Actually, he had been interested in the film himself, but initially thought it wasn't the kind of movie to take a girl to, so he had planned to watch it alone. He hadn't expected Lu Xiang'er to suggest it herself, so it worked out perfectly.

After dinner, Fang Xing went to the cinema's self-service kiosk to pick up the tickets. Lu Xiang'er volunteered to buy drinks. "What do you want to drink? I'll go get it."

"Anything is fine, maybe a lemon tea." Fang Xing wasn't picky.

"Alright, let's split up. You get the tickets, I'll get the drinks, and we'll meet at the entrance." She turned and headed toward the milk tea shop.

When they returned, there were only five minutes left before the screening. As they entered the theater, trailers for other films were playing. Since the movie had been out for ten days and wasn't a blockbuster, the audience was sparse. Fang Xing had bought seats in the back; he guided Lu Xiang'er to their spots.

The movie started. The color grading was excellent, and the opening shot captured the scenery of an old Xiangjiang street—bustling pedestrians, shops covered in signs. Lu Xiang'er leaned over and whispered behind her hand, "The cinematography is great. It really looks like the old streets of Xiangjiang."

Fang Xing, who had often performed in Xiangjiang, knew the local atmosphere well. The music scene of that era was inseparable from Cantonese pop. The film had a high rating on Doujia, and the ending was quite moving. As the end credits rolled, Lu Xiang'er turned her head away. Fang Xing guessed her eyes were wet, so he handed her a tissue. She took it and wiped the corners of her eyes.

There were only a dozen or so people in the theater, and they left one by one. Fang Xing sat there, waiting for her to compose herself. "Don't cry. Keep crying and the cleaning lady is going to come over."

"I'm not!" she retorted indignantly.

"Alright, you don't have to turn your head away. I know you're a crybaby," Fang Xing teased.

"I am not!" she argued, turning back and glaring with her black-gem-like eyes.

"The first time we met, you were crying, and it even made the Weibo hot search," he remarked.

"That was because my violin was broken! Isn't it normal to cry?" she puffed out her cheeks in defense.

"Emotionally recovered? Let's go then. Don't get in the cleaning lady's way."

Fang Xing pulled her up and led her out of the mall, walking through the plaza. Perhaps touched by the movie, Lu Xiang'er walked with her head down, lost in thought, feeling the night breeze.

A long while later, she asked, "Can we watch TV together this week?"

"You mean *The Voice*?" Fang Xing asked.

"Yes," she nodded.

"We recorded the second episode together in Xiangjiang. Haven't you seen enough of it?" he asked with a smile.

"It's different. I want to see it on TV. Do you think I'll be on camera? Even for a second?" She had been curious about this. When they recorded the second episode, she had just been playing accompaniment in the band, not the protagonist of the show. Whether she would make the final cut was anyone's guess.

"Did you feel like you were being filmed that night?" he asked.

"Maybe, maybe not." She wasn't sure.

"So you're planning to make me play 'Spot the Difference' on Friday night," he joked.

"That's not it. You're the singer, the cameras are all on you, so of course you don't care. But this is my first time on satellite TV!" she pouted.

"Alright, alright. After the show, I'll take a late flight back to Xiangjiang," Fang Xing agreed.

"Will that be too tiring?" she asked, worried about his performance the next day.

"No, it’s just a late flight, it won't affect anything." Fang Xing had intended to watch the show with her anyway.

Lu Xiang'er asked curiously, "By the way, what song are you singing in the third episode? How was your ranking?"

Fang Xing put on a serious face. "I'm under a non-disclosure agreement, I can't just say."

She puffed out her cheeks and sighed. "Fine, then I have to wait two more weeks to find out."

"Since you're so curious, I'll tell you secretly."

"Really? I promise I won't tell anyone!" Her eyes lit up.

Fang Xing leaned in close to her ear, looking at her fair, delicate side profile—it was beautiful. He didn't speak for a long while, then, through her mask, he gave her cheek a light peck.

Lu Xiang'er froze, then scrambled back five meters, standing akimbo in frustration. "What are you doing!"

Fang Xing looked up at the sky. "I kissed the mask, I didn't do anything."

Lu Xiang'er touched her cheek. Even through the mask, she felt as if she had been electrocuted. She didn't know how to feel—a mix of anger, sweetness, awkwardness, and shyness, and a sudden urge to grab Fang Xing and give him a beating.