Chapter Seventy-One: Song Signing Event

The post-production of the film progressed smoothly. Gu Zhi and Lu Chuan first edited together the trailer and the footage for the “I Believe” music video, then contacted Huayi’s production team to start working on the MV. The groundwork for the song had long been prepared, so the “I Believe” MV was finished quickly, and by mid-December, China Film’s publicity department began distributing it to major television and radio stations.

The song’s main attraction was Gu Zhi, followed by its status as the theme song of “My Sassy Girl,” and lastly, the performer Tang Wei… This approach was somewhat unfair to Tang Wei, but for the sake of the film’s promotion, she had to be set aside. Tang Wei herself didn’t mind at all; after all, she wasn’t a singer, and treated this as an experience in life. Publicity and marketing details were insignificant to her.

Moreover, Gu Zhi was immensely popular lately. He refused to respond to the Golden Horse Awards controversy, but the media continued to hype it up—gossip was their livelihood. Now that he had written and composed a new song himself, news of it required no paid advertising; the press was already poised to report, aiming their lenses and microphones at him. He wrote best-selling books, directed box office hits, and now he’d written a song; the mere novelty of it was enough to spark anticipation.

Sure enough, as soon as “I Believe” aired, it shot to first place on the request charts of music radio stations across the country, also topping television request programs. Some marveled at Gu Zhi’s talent, but more, after watching the MV, became interested in the new film; many couples decided they would definitely go to the cinema together on Valentine’s Day.

Tang Wei’s popularity, which had previously dipped, soared once more. No one expected the goddess to not only act well, but also sing beautifully. They were even more surprised to learn that the pleasant singing was entirely a product of packaging; without vocal tuning or post-production, the goddess’s singing was actually quite dreadful.

“Leave professional work to professionals”—this maxim is basically useless in the entertainment industry. As long as you have fame and fans, even if you can’t carry a tune, you can release several albums; even if you have no acting skills, you can command the highest pay among actors.

Gu Zhi reflected that what he was doing now wasn’t much different from promoting pop idols—Tang Wei and Gao Yuanyuan had been elevated by him; weren’t they just this era’s traffic stars? In the end, “looks are justice” proved to be the ultimate truth.

In any case, the promotional effect was achieved. The chorus of “I Believe” was already a classic, memorable for its simplicity, and thus widely sung. Especially among young people—even if they hadn’t heard the song, they could at least hum a few bars, “I Believe, da-da-da-da-da-da-da,” rivaling the popularity of Sun Yanzi’s new song “Dark Sky.”

Due to the song’s overwhelming success, Huayi contacted Gu Zhi, expressing interest in buying the rights and releasing it as an EP.

Gu Zhi was straightforward, naming a price of one yuan and selling it outright. The song was originally intended to promote the film and give Tang Wei something to do, never expected to generate income. Now that Huayi wanted to buy the rights and sell it, they were essentially helping him promote his film. Huayi would profit, the film would gain fame—it was mutually beneficial. Moreover, Huayi had helped produce the song, and Feng Xiaogang had publicly supported him before; with these favors, Gu Zhi felt uncomfortable charging much.

Both sides were very pleased with the arrangement. Huayi planned to hold a signing event for “I Believe,” inviting Gu Zhi and Tang Wei to attend. Gu Zhi thought this was an exceptionally good deal—what better venue to promote the film than the signing for its theme song? Huayi was essentially backing his new movie. This kind of free publicity was a no-brainer; he would definitely attend.

Most of the editing was already done, and he had long delegated the remaining work to Lu Chuan. In fact, there was nothing left for him to do, and it was time to start promoting. So, not only himself, but also the two leads, Gao Yuanyuan and Tong Dawei, were brought along to the signing.

Currently, 80% of album signings in Beijing were held at FAB Colorful Unlimited Cultural Plaza, located in Wangfujing’s Oriental New World and Xidan’s Joy City. Huayi chose Wangfujing. As one of the mainland’s top three film companies, Huayi was exceptionally skilled at publicity; a huge crowd of fans arrived early, even before the media, faster and more enthusiastic.

Most numerous were Gu Zhi’s fans, followed by Tang Wei’s, then Gao Yuanyuan’s. Tong Dawei had no fans; the rest were just there for the fun. Wandering shoppers saw a crowd and joined in without even looking at the promotional posters. No matter what, they loved staying where people gathered—unable to resist causing a stir.

At ten in the morning, Gu Zhi appeared, instantly drawing countless eyes.

“Gu, I love you!” shouted a fan from the crowd, his deep voice catching Gu Zhi’s attention. Upon closer look, a tall man nearly two meters was holding a sign with the same words he’d just yelled. Behind him stood a group of excited young women, all dressed identically—a fan club, it seemed, with the big man as their leader.

This bizarre scene truly stunned Gu Zhi; he couldn’t help but marvel at the capital’s inclusiveness, far beyond that of smaller cities.

He realized it had been a long time since he’d met his fans, always dealing with the media. Apart from the novel signing when he first arrived in Beijing, he hadn’t interacted with fans at all.

“Before heading home for New Year, maybe I should hold a fan meeting to thank all those who’ve supported me,” he thought, smiling and greeting the crowd, making a note to research it later.

The attending celebrities each greeted their fans, while the Huayi host rattled off a string of formalities. Gu Zhi then introduced the movie associated with “I Believe.” Though billed as a signing event, most people were there just for Gu Zhi; the song or content didn’t matter—only who was speaking mattered.

Though Gu Zhi had plenty of online haters, in real life, seeing him in person made most people forget their stance, acting like devoted fans instantly, only to return to the internet and resume criticizing him. It’s a peculiar phenomenon: facing celebrities, people’s online and offline attitudes are completely different. Almost nobody would heckle in person; the prevailing thought is, whether you like them or not, better get an autograph first.

During the event, Gu Zhi spoke the most, and later realized he was overshadowing the others, so he stopped. The two goddesses each spoke for a while—luckily, there was no rivalry—and after answering a few fan questions, the signing began.

Tong Dawei spoke as well, but nobody cared, so his remarks went unrecorded.

Strictly speaking, the EP signing should have been Tang Wei’s solo event, but with Gu Zhi involved, Huayi wouldn’t let them off so easily, nor would the fans. There was no escape: starting with Gu Zhi, then Tang Wei, Gao Yuanyuan, and Tong Dawei—everyone had to sign.

Tong Dawei was included because some fans worried he might become popular later, and missing this opportunity would be regrettable. It was best to have him sign as well. If only he were left out, it’d be too disrespectful; Gu Zhi wouldn’t allow that either.

After four exhausting hours, they finally finished. Huayi staff were overjoyed—so many buyers, soaring sales, how could they not be happy?

With the signing over, Gu Zhi’s promotional work had only just begun. The very next day, he received an invitation to appear on a major new program.

He didn’t really want to go, knowing he’d likely face criticism, but he truly couldn’t refuse.