Chapter Fifty: The Four Major Leading Bands

“This gentleman is also from the music scene; his name is Dan Liwen. He used to play heavy metal in Chyna, released a full album that was quite well received, and he’s regarded as one of the best bassists around. Now he works behind the scenes, doing arrangements and scoring for Sister May,” Pat introduced the last person.

The man at the back had long, curly hair and a handsome, rakish air. But in Yan Xu’s mind, looking at him only conjured up the image of Ximen Qing, the infamous character entangled with Pan Jinlian. In his memory, Dan Liwen wasn’t just a future member of the renowned Blue Warriors band, nor was he destined to be the famed pallbearer at Wong Ka-Kui’s funeral, or the musical director and accompanist for countless major concerts. To Yan Xu, he was first and foremost known for his performances as Ximen Qing, perfectly embodying the character’s debauched charm, cunning, and ruthlessness—so much so that the phrase “complete embodiment” seemed made for his portrayal. If there were a ranking of the top ten actors in Hong Kong’s Category III films, he would undoubtedly occupy a prominent place.

“This is Mr. Yan, our company’s boss,” Pat introduced Yan Xu to the three of them.

“Hello, Mr. Yan!”
“Hello, boss!”

The four men were particularly reserved in front of Yan Xu. The oldest among them, Dan Liwen, was about the same age as Yan Xu, but Yan’s status was unmistakable—not only was he the boss of a record company, but also a famed director, the kind who could command tens of millions per film.

“I’ve heard of you all. Are you preparing for a concert these days?” Yan Xu looked at the Beyond trio. At this point, they had only released a compilation album as an underground band and were virtually unknown outside a few bars. Yan Xu had no intention of letting the opportunity to sign them slip away.

“Mr. Yan knows about us?” Wong Ka-Kui was surprised Yan Xu had heard of them, and a little excited. “Yes, we’re planning a small concert to share our music with the public. We’ve rented the Caritas Centre on Hong Kong Island as the venue, but our guitarist went abroad for further studies, so we’ve been looking for a new one. We’ve finally found someone to help—his name is Wong Koon-Chung, a friend of Ah Wing’s from university who used to design our posters. He’s played in other bands and is technically very skilled. He couldn’t make it today, but we’re rehearsing hard lately. We hope you’ll send someone to support us at the show.”

Wong Ka-Kui and his bandmates greatly envied the success of the Taiji Band. What every band desires is for their music to reach a wider audience and to release their own albums. The purpose of their concert was to publicly showcase their work, hoping to catch the eye of a record company and sign a deal—or at least earn enough money to self-finance an album.

Life was hard for them. Besides making music, each member worked side jobs, as there was no money to be made from music, and they used their part-time earnings to subsidize their passion. Yet their fervor for music kept them going.

“Don’t call me ‘Mr. Yan’—you make me sound old. We’re all about the same age; you can just call me Xu, or Ah Xu, or even by my given name,” Yan Xu said with a smile. He hadn’t expected Wong Ka-Kui and the others to have already found a new guitarist, but since Wong Koon-Chung wasn’t present, he asked for confirmation, “You found a new guitarist? It’s not Dan Liwen, is it?”

Yan Xu knew that their upcoming concert wouldn’t be ideal. Though the performance would be a success, the audience would be sparse; not a single invited record label would show up. Worse, their manager would sign them to a draconian contract, and they would take out a bank loan of over ten thousand, ending up with a loss of more than six thousand.

“No, not Dan. It’s a friend of Ah Wing’s from university, a designer who has played in other bands. His name is Wong Koon-Chung, very skilled. He couldn’t make it today,” Ka-Kui explained, relaxing as Yan Xu’s approachable demeanor put them at ease.

“Bring your instruments to my company tomorrow. I want to hear your songs. If I like what I hear, I’ll sponsor your concert,” Yan Xu offered. He knew the value of striking first and didn’t want to let them slip through his fingers. His words instantly brought smiles to the trio’s faces, leaving them so excited they barely knew what to say.

“Thank you, Xu! Thank you!” the three young men said quickly. Yan Xu’s intentions were clear: if they performed well tomorrow, he might sign them—a chance they had long awaited.

“Dan, have you ever considered moving into film?” Yan Xu turned to Dan Liwen, ignoring the excitement of the three young men. Having secured Beyond, he had no intention of letting Dan slip away either, as he was accomplished in both music and film.

“Film?” Dan was momentarily stunned by Yan Xu’s question. Seeing his friends favored by Yan Xu and given a chance to break through, he was genuinely happy for them, knowing how rare such opportunities were for underground rock bands in Hong Kong. He had expected Yan Xu to discuss music, not to ask if he was interested in film.

“I don’t know the first thing about movies,” Dan shook his head. The film world was completely foreign to him.

“You’re so good-looking, it would be a shame not to try movies. With your looks, you’d be perfect for period dramas,” Yan Xu said, observing Dan. Right now, Dan was solely focused on music and knew little about film, so Yan didn’t expect him to agree immediately.

“Would you be interested in working at my company?” Yan Xu continued, figuring it best to bring him in first. As Dan was now working behind the scenes in music, his own company happened to need just such a professional.

“Ah?” Dan was clearly tempted by Yan Xu’s invitation. Dragon Records was the dark horse of the industry, with excellent prospects, and he hoped for a stable job. Excitement flickered across his face, but quickly faded as he recalled something. “I appreciate your offer, Xu, but I’m tied up with other commitments right now.”

“What’s going on?” Yan Xu hadn’t expected a refusal. He knew that, even working behind the scenes, Dan’s situation was unstable and his income meager. With a steady job at his company, Dan ought to be eager.

“Two former bandmates from Chyna invited me to form a new band, and I agreed. So…” Dan said, regretful to pass up the opportunity, but his loyalty to his old friends came first.

“You’re forming a new band? Is it still called Chyna?” Yan Xu was surprised, knowing it would be some time before the Blue Warriors formed.

“We haven’t decided on a name yet. It’s still in the planning stage. The other two are currently the go-to musicians for Leslie Cheung and Anita Mui, helping with their albums. We just get together to rehearse and are waiting for a chance to make a splash—hopefully, a record company will sign us,” Dan explained.

“Well, that’s perfect. Bring them along to my company tomorrow. If your band is good, I’ll sign all of you—or you can all join my company. The pay isn’t huge, but the work is stable. You’ll have time to rehearse and can use the company’s recording studio,” Yan Xu replied with a smile.

“Really? That’s wonderful, thank you, Xu!” Dan beamed, his smile radiant. Still, perhaps because Yan Xu had seen him as Ximen Qing and other roguish roles too many times, he couldn’t help but find that face a touch sly.

Success! Yan Xu was inwardly delighted. The concert tonight had been a great success and provided valuable experience for organizing large-scale events in the future. Most importantly, he had recruited both Beyond and the future Blue Warriors. If contracts were signed tomorrow, his label would represent four leading bands: Taiji, Beyond, the Blue Warriors, and Lau Yik-Da from Tat Ming Pair. They would be the backbone of Hong Kong’s rock scene. In 1987, a certain authoritative music magazine had ranked Taiji number one, Tat Ming Pair second, and Beyond third among Hong Kong bands.