Chapter Forty-Two: Radio Station No. 1

"Boss, take a look at what this guy wrote," the Seven Sons of Taiji arrived at Yan Xu's office, visibly agitated. They thrust the magazine into his hands without preamble.

"What’s wrong?" Yan Xu looked at the group, their anger almost palpable, and wondered what could have provoked them so.

"The company arranged for us to be interviewed by a music critic a few days ago—look at what he wrote," Ah Pat said, clearly furious.

Ever since the film's release, the promotional activities for Vivian Chow and the Taiji Band had been in full swing. Their two songs were sent to radio stations throughout Hong Kong for chart consideration, and together with some of the original scores from "Taxi Judge," they released a simple EP to test the market response. Every performance, whether in concert halls or campus shows, drew a large crowd of fans. On the strength of these songs, both Vivian Chow and the Taiji Band had begun to make a name for themselves in the music scene.

With the rising popularity came a slew of interviews from newspapers, magazines, and music critics. Yan Xu welcomed this attention, and even Lo Koon-Ting was working tirelessly to produce their debut albums, which were expected to be released soon.

"What did you guys say during the interview?" Yan Xu asked, his brow furrowing as he glanced through the article. The review by this critic, Li Muyu, was something he couldn't agree with; in fact, it bordered on malicious. Not only did it criticize the Taiji Band and Hong Kong’s rock scene, but it also took aim at his own lyrics and compositions.

"...The entire Hong Kong rock scene is like an unmanaged, dilapidated construction site: dust everywhere, noise at every turn, shoddy workmanship, fishers in troubled waters. Those bewitched men and women with long hair, leather jackets, and ripped jeans howl, cry, strip off their shirts, and swing their heads wildly as if possessed, no matter the time or place. Indecency is their daily bread, and drugs are their essentials. Our younger generation is being swallowed up bit by bit, as the faith and morals handed down by our ancestors are gradually discarded. And the so-called music they produce is nothing but grating noise, devoid of meaning. Take, for instance, the much-lauded 'Lost' by the Taiji Band—it's entirely incoherent, with the lead singer doing nothing but scream at the top of his lungs, lacking any hint of artistry..."

"We just talked about our backgrounds, our musical inspirations, the band's development, and our philosophy of music," Ah Pat explained.

"And who exactly is this guy?" Yan Xu tossed the magazine aside in disgust. Such criticism was nothing but worthless drivel, polluting the eyes of anyone who read it. While Yan Xu knew that some of the things described did exist within the rock scene, it was unfair to paint everyone with the same brush. Even the pop scene wasn’t immune to such problems.

"He's a lyricist, a member of the so-called 'Mandarin Duck and Butterfly School.' He’s written lyrics for some martial arts dramas on Asia Television, so he’s considered an old hand," Snake explained.

"The Mandarin Duck and Butterfly School?" Yan Xu couldn’t help but laugh at the mention. That style, once derided as decadent and purposeless, was all about romances between talented scholars and beauties, emphasizing frivolous tastes. The content was mostly shallow and the ideas hollow, with dramas like "The Golden Powder Family" as typical examples—tales of young men and women entangled in love, utterly lacking in depth, with predictable endings. Modern idol dramas often followed the same formula—a kind of revival, perhaps. Such works were the polar opposite of rock music, especially the kind with socially critical lyrics, which must have seemed blindingly offensive to someone like Li Muyu.

"People like him just stir up trouble for its own sake. There are plenty like him in the industry. If you can't handle this, there will be worse to come. Just treat it as garbage," Yan Xu said, looking at the group. They were still young and quick-tempered, but with time they would mature from being steeped in the industry.

"All of you are here?" As Yan Xu spoke, the door suddenly swung open. Lo Koon-Ting entered, surprised to see so many people gathered inside.

"Ting, you’re just in time! Take a look at this article—should we write something in response?" Yan Xu tossed the magazine to him.

"This guy again, huh," Lo Koon-Ting said, glancing only at the author’s name before setting the magazine aside.

"You know him?" Yan Xu asked, curious about Lo Koon-Ting’s reaction.

"He’s just a lyricist who scribbles reviews to get by. He writes whatever he pleases about any song. Everyone in the industry knows him—if you get into a spat with him, that’s exactly what he wants. The more you argue, the more famous he gets. Best to just ignore him and give him a wide berth," Lo Koon-Ting replied.

"Aren’t you busy working on Vivian’s album? What brings you over here?" Yan Xu asked.

"And what kind of boss are you, anyway? You hardly manage the company at all! I could excuse it when you were busy with the film, but now that it’s out, you’re still nowhere to be found—even took the singer away with you," Lo Koon-Ting said, settling into a chair across from Yan Xu.

These days, with the movie a box-office hit, Yan Xu had taken the opportunity to study audience reactions and learn from competing films, dragging Vivian Chow along with him to various cinemas. They addressed each other as brother and sister—while there hadn’t been any decisive progress, they had grown much closer.

"Those who are capable should do more. And besides, Chen Shaoqi and Yin Kui are helping you out. You've been working hard lately—I'll treat you to a big meal when you get back," Yan Xu said with an embarrassed smile. The truth was, he was hardly cut out to run a company and knew he lacked the talent for it.

"A big meal? You were going to treat us anyway! Your movie’s box office is over ten million now. Of course, we’ll be sure to milk you dry," Lo Koon-Ting said, glancing at the Seven Sons. "Right, everyone?"

"Of course, of course!" The prospect of food quickly won everyone over, and they chimed in enthusiastically.

"All right, all right!" Yan Xu raised both hands in surrender. "When your album goes platinum, we’ll head to Australia for lobster if that’s what you want!"

"The boss has promised now, so you guys better work hard. The whole company will benefit from your success," Lo Koon-Ting said with a laugh.

"It’ll be a while before the album sells that well, but there’s something right now that’ll cost you, boss. This is a big company event—you can’t be stingy," someone interjected.

"What is it? What’s the big news?" Yan Xu was puzzled. The company was still little known in the industry, with no albums out yet. What could be worth celebrating?

"Clearly, none of you paid attention to the Chinese Top Ten Song Chart this week," Lo Koon-Ting said.

"That’s right! Today is the day Hong Kong Radio announces the Chinese Top Ten," the Seven Sons suddenly remembered, having been distracted by their earlier anger and forgetting such an important event.

As one of the four major music charts, the Chinese Top Ten was renowned for its fairness and objectivity, recognized both inside and outside the industry. All singers aspired to make its ranks, as it was a direct reflection of album sales. At that time, the Ultimate Song Chart Awards and Metro Hit Awards hadn’t yet been established, so the Hong Kong Radio’s Chinese Top Ten and TVB’s Top Ten Golden Songs were especially important, serving as key references for the grand music awards.

"How did it go?" Yan Xu asked, his concern evident. Making it onto the chart would be a tremendous boost for the Taiji Band and Vivian Chow’s future album releases.

"Both songs made the list! Vivian’s 'Devotion for True Love' is in third place, and Taiji’s 'Lost' is number one," Lo Koon-Ting announced excitedly. Everyone in the room froze in astonishment, the joy washing over them as if a great fortune had landed on their heads. Especially with 'Lost' taking the top spot, it was the best possible rebuttal to critics like Li Muyu.

PS: Pumpkin is busy, so I’m posting on his behalf. Three chapters today—this is the first!