Chapter Twelve: The Struggle for Supremacy

When the group arrived at the designated restaurant in several cars, Chen Shuhua was already there waiting.

Wow, at first glance, she was strikingly beautiful.

To Lin Jianlu, she was a typical case of being very familiar with the singer’s work but not with the person herself. Chen Shuhua’s songs were outstanding—“When Dreams Awake,” “Rolling Red Dust,” “Laughing at the World,” “Clearly My Heart,” “Ask”—even after thirty or forty years, they still resonated far and wide. But the woman herself was from a much earlier time. Lin Jianlu, who was keen on revisiting old songs with new renditions, had listened to no fewer than fifty of Chen’s tracks repeatedly, yet she had almost no clear impression of what Chen looked like.

Chen appeared to be under thirty, perhaps twenty-six or twenty-seven, with short hair that made her look sharp and neat. Her figure was excellent, and her features were bright and delicate—a perfect blend of familiarity and purity.

Earlier, Xue Zhongding had briefly mentioned in class that Chen was a mama’s girl, unable to live without her mother. Lin Jianlu had thought she might be quiet and reserved.

But in person, Chen was radiant and outshone everyone in the room.

She was an elegant yet spirited young woman.

As a singer, she connected the generations from Su Rui, Zhang Aijia, Pan Yueyun, Qi Yu to Lin Yilian and Su Huilun. She was the first artist in Taiwan to sell over a million copies of a single album, and in her prime, her stature was undisputed. With both talent and beauty, she was truly a princess within Rock Records. The entire company, from creators to producers to the boss, adored her. Lin Jianlu had only been famous for a few days—obviously, she wasn’t entitled to demand Chen put aside caring for her mother just to come and welcome her.

The reason was simple: Chen was Lin Jianlu’s “super fan”!

More specifically, on the entire “Cold to the End” album, Chen’s favorite tracks were the two R&B pieces, “Flower Field Mistake” and “Xiaoxiang Rain.” She loved them deeply.

This surprised Lin Jianlu a little.

Chen was undoubtedly at the pinnacle of the industry, almost crowned queen on her path. Lin had imagined her as the forever elegant lady singing, “At first, you were unintentional, and I was an unworldly youth; the fate in this mortal world was only because of the silent entanglement of life.” She could be gentle and silent or bold and heroic, but fundamentally, she belonged to an “old era”—yes, for someone born after ’95, she was too old-fashioned.

She was from the same generation as Luo Dayou and Li Zongsheng—so old…

Though the woman before her was a dazzling, young beauty, and despite Lin Jianlu increasingly adapting to being born in 1976 and living in the ’90s, not that much younger than Chen Shuhua, Su Huilun, and Liu Ruoying, her ingrained mindset wasn’t easy to shift.

Chen had been famous for about seven or eight years, right? Despite her youthful appearance, she was probably nearing thirty or had even passed it—definitely from the pre-’70s generation!

And yet, a singer from such a “bygone era” was interested in R&B?

“Well, she’s been on IV drip for five days now. She says she feels much better. Actually, I’m not much help; Dad could take good care of Mom on his own!”

Duan Zhongtan and Li Zongsheng both asked about her mother’s health. Hearing there was no serious problem, they didn’t press further and let her go on pestering Lin Jianlu.

She chatted ceaselessly, full of admiration.

It wasn’t just flattery—it was almost sycophantic.

But despite her exaggerations, Chen came across as sincere and heartfelt. It was obvious that she genuinely adored those two songs.

Inside Rock Records, she had considerable status. After the mastering of the “Cold to the End” album was finished but before the CDs were pressed, she had already listened to the internal company transfers.

She loved those songs and listened to them daily, almost obsessively.

“Xiaoxiang Rain” and “Flower Field Mistake,” ancient style R&B—she loved them to death!

She said that if it weren’t for the harsh winter in the north, if it weren’t for Old Duan’s firm objections, and if her mother hadn’t been unwell recently, she would have applied for a Taiwan resident permit in Hong Kong and rushed straight to the capital!

…

When they sat down, she naturally took the seat next to Lin Jianlu.

But once seated, she immediately calmed down, showing a bit of ladylike demeanor.

However, while the dishes were being served, Old Duan was bragging and teasing the CDs as usual, and Lin Jianlu noticed Chen kept turning her head to look at her. After three times, unable to resist, Lin quietly asked, “What’s up?”

Chen pursed her lips, trying not to laugh, cheeks flushed. “Sorry, I just realized—you’re really good-looking!”

Qi Yu, sitting on the other side, burst out laughing, followed by Xiao Chong on the other side who laughed heartily, not minding that it interrupted the boss’s boasting. Pointing at Chen, Qi Yu laughed, “She just realized Alu is a handsome guy! Hahaha…”

Lin Jianlu was both amused and a bit helpless.

But she couldn’t help but glance deeply at Chen—such a pure person, quite nice.

Everyone seemed to feel free to tease her, and Chen just accepted the teasing with an embarrassed but happy smile. Even her reluctant explanation was somewhat endearing: “I really didn’t notice before!”

…

Just as they began eating, an unexpected guest arrived.

A remarkable figure: Zhang Aijia.

Suddenly, there was a clatter of dishes and the sound of chairs moving everywhere—Zhang Aijia’s presence was so grand that before she arrived, Old Xue had even introduced her as the big sister of the Taiwanese literary and artistic world.

According to Old Xue, back in the day, it was the national goddess Zhang Aijia who insisted on having Luo Dayou produce her album, which catapulted Luo Dayou to fame and boosted Rock Records!

That was in 1981!

Rock Records had only been established for a year then! Luo Dayou was still a freelance musician just gaining recognition! And Li Zongsheng hadn’t even made a name for himself yet. But Zhang Aijia was already the goddess dominating Hong Kong and Taiwan, with her first album released in 1976!

At this time, she should have been at least in her forties, representing an even earlier era, but she showed no signs of fading beauty. Her elegance remained, truly remarkable.

She had a pure image, not the most stunning compared to someone like Yuan Feibingtian, but what was rare was that at middle age, her beauty hadn’t waned. Instead, she had gained a richness with time, exuding an inexplicable charm.

They exchanged handshakes and pleasantries.

She was well acquainted with Rock Records and had collaborated extensively. Even Liu Ruoying, whom she had mentored to stardom with the film “Young Girl Xiao Yu,” was signed to her agency before joining Rock Records to release albums, showing how close and familiar their relationship was.

Just as she sat down and before she could say much, another visitor arrived.

A kindly-looking middle-aged woman.

She also seemed quite important, as many bigwigs stood up calling her “Sister Ge.” Lin Jianlu had no memory of the name, but Old Duan personally introduced her as the famous manager Ge Fuhong.

Lin Jianlu suddenly understood.

Old Xue had mentioned before that Zhang Aijia now ran a talent agency, and Liu Ruoying was her protégé. After being made famous by the film “Young Girl Xiao Yu,” Liu was signed to her company and then promoted to Rock Records for her music career.

Got it.

So there were no uninvited guests; everyone had come prepared.

Observing closely, Zhang Aijia and Ge Fuhong were also well acquainted, but their words hinted at some undercurrents—newcomer Lin Jianlu played ignorant, only listening and saying nothing.