Chapter 25: Old Wang and Old Dou

Lin Jianlu had certainly seen the music video for "Fairytale" ahead of time.

In an era before digital communication, there was only human-powered logistics. After returning to Taiwan, Sylvia Chang completed the initial cut, followed by a series of phone consultations. Once finalized, she flew to Hong Kong with the edited tapes, held more discussions, and then flew back. It took two such cycles to produce the final version.

The result was already significantly different from the original version in Lin Jianlu's mind.

Given Lin Jianlu's appearance and temperament, it was impossible to portray him as a dull, pushover character like Guang Liang. Lin had adjusted this during the scriptwriting stage, and after it reached Sylvia Chang, she applied her own interpretation and adjustments, followed by further additions and subtractions during filming.

However, the core of the story remained entirely intact.

The MV and the song "Fairytale" were selling the very essence of pure love and the regrets of life and death. Sylvia Chang, a woman of artistic pedigree, has spent years singing, acting in art films, and building a successful career as a director. She naturally possessed a unique grasp of the material. When her vision collided with Lin Jianlu’s own, it wasn't a matter of boasting—it was hard to say if it exceeded the original, as the original is always irreplaceable—but for those who hadn't seen the original, such as Sylvia Chang or the female lead Rene Liu, they both remarked after watching it, "You should make a movie! The box office wouldn't be bad!"

But when this topic reached Gigi Leung, who couldn't even wait a day and had to rush to his hotel, it turned into, "That female lead, her name is Rene Liu, right? I think I've heard her songs; they're quite nice."

Lin Jianlu ignored her, shouting instead, "I'm going to take my clothes off and take a shower!"

Then, amidst Gigi Leung's playful shriek, he stripped off his pants. Standing there in his briefs, his bulge prominent, he felt no shame and paced back and forth in front of her. Seeing that she didn't dare to open her eyes, he slowly strolled into the bathroom.

Before he was even out, Gigi Leung was already knocking on the door, shouting, "You have a phone call!"

He wrapped himself in a towel and picked up the receiver to hear Brigitte Lin’s laughing voice, "Ah Lu, shall we walk the red carpet together? Miss Leung is ignoring you, but I’ll pay attention to you!"

Gigi Leung was listening right beside him, and her expression changed instantly at these words.

Lin Jianlu, however, burst into laughter.

***

It was set: the Hong Kong Film Awards were on the 28th, and Lin was scheduled to fly home on the 29th. His tickets were already booked.

He didn't just want to go back for May Day; he wanted to stay for June 1st, July 1st, and August 1st. In short, he had enough money to live comfortably. He planned to head back, buy a large mansion, and start hunting down Yuan Yuan and Bingbing to stake his claim early.

When the time came, with both wives sitting by his side, eating Tianfuhao braised pork knuckle wrapped in pancakes, while listening to Old Man Gao across the street cursing in a fit of rage—that feeling, hey...

Whether it was Ge Fuhong, Sylvia Chang, or Duan Zhongtan, they all knew that if Lin Jianlu stayed in Hong Kong or Taiwan, even if he didn't participate in any promotional work, his mere presence would make headlines, which would be a massive boost to album sales. But there was no helping it; he couldn't be persuaded. And that wasn't just true now—ever since the album hit 600,000 copies in Taiwan and over 200,000 in Hong Kong, Lin Jianlu was no longer someone they could easily control or manipulate.

The two agents were one thing, but even Rock Records now had a relationship with Lin that could only be described as a partnership. One only had to look at how Duan respected Jonathan Lee and Lo Ta-yu, or how he pampered Wakin Chau and Sarah Chen, to understand the status a singer held once they reached a certain level.

Lin Jianlu had already far outpaced Wakin Chau and Sarah Chen. With Lo Ta-yu’s creative spark showing signs of waning, within Rock Records—one of the "Big Three" Chinese record labels—there was only Jonathan Lee left who could compare to Lin. Yet, "Cold to the End" was still selling hot with no signs of slowing down; who could say what would happen next?

If he wanted to go back, he had to be allowed to go back.

The stakeholders couldn't even afford to show a bad attitude; they could only coax him and ask him to come back after a while.

However, before leaving, Lin Jianlu had one more thing to take care of.

He arrived in Hong Kong on the 27th at noon. After a quick meal with Gigi Leung, he masked his face and headed out in the afternoon.

***

He went to visit Wang Fei’s home.

Having met several times in the capital, they were already well-acquainted. Wang Fei was talkative and cheerful, possessing the free-spirited, forthright nature of a true Beijing girl. While her blunt remarks on variety shows often left people stunned, she was by no means lacking in emotional intelligence; she was simply proud and disliked being manipulated. She was certainly no fool.

Dou Wei, on the other hand, was somewhat cold in public, but to be fair, he was far from dull. In private, he was quite cheerful and loved to joke around. Perhaps everyone is like this; in his previous life, Lin Jianlu often listened to crosstalk and heard Guo Degang say that he rarely spoke after leaving the stage and avoided social drinking. Lin was much the same—he could sing, dance, and chat endlessly during livestreams, sometimes even getting banned for crude jokes, but once the camera was off, he preferred to be left alone in silence.

Dou Wei was the exact opposite: cold in front of people, kind behind the scenes.

They had a residence in Hong Kong, but Lin Jianlu’s schedule had been hectic, and he’d been somewhat entangled by Gigi Leung, so he hadn't yet been a guest at their home.

They had arranged to have dinner together.

For those in the Hong Kong circle, they were all, in a sense, outsiders.

Wang Fei, however, had already obtained residency and started her career with Cantonese albums, so she integrated well. Lin Jianlu, on the other hand, remained a massive "dragon crossing the river" who had yet to fully assimilate.

When he arrived, Dou Wei was very happy. But when he heard that Lin was returning to the capital the day after tomorrow, he grew a bit downcast. During Lin’s last visit to Hong Kong, when he called them over for dinner, Lin had sensed that Dou Wei felt he could never truly integrate into the local scene.

There were objective reasons for this.

In the rock scene, whether during his time as the frontman of Black Panther or the later "Three Heroes of Magic Rock" era, Dou Wei’s talent, strength, and status were undeniable. However, his legitimate cassette sales in the mainland weren't particularly high, and his CDs barely sold in Hong Kong or Taiwan.

Rock music was a niche market in Hong Kong; even BEYOND had to go elsewhere to find work.

Ultimately, Dou Wei’s greatest commercial achievement was the Hong Kong Coliseum concert organized by Zhang Peiren—a single show, a few thousand tickets, with a total box office that likely didn't even reach three million Hong Kong dollars. The three of them together would have split a million at most, and his own share would certainly not exceed 500,000.

Hong Kong is a quintessential commercial society, especially in the entertainment industry, where the box office dictates everything.

Lin Jianlu’s album sales in Taiwan exceeded a million copies, which, in the eyes of the industry, meant he had single-handedly generated nearly 200 million New Taiwan Dollars. If he could sell over 500,000 copies in Hong Kong, that meant 50 million Hong Kong dollars—this was the bedrock of his status in the industry.

Why did Hong Kong stars love holding concerts once they became famous, especially at the Coliseum? Those who were popular enough would hold multiple shows, and stars like Jacky Cheung would even perform on a four-sided stage to prove their strength—it was all about the box office!

Hong Kong people acknowledged this, and the entertainment industry worshipped it.

Even the later highly acclaimed Wong Kar-wai only gained true status in the industry once he began winning awards in Europe and could sell international distribution rights for U.S. dollars.

As for the "Two Chows and One Jackie," who among them hadn't proven themselves through the box office?

However, Dou Wei’s problems went beyond just the box office or industry status.

First, to hype their concert, the organizers had demanded that they make provocative statements to the media beforehand. Specifically, the classic line: "Among the Four Heavenly Kings of Hong Kong, only Jacky Cheung can actually sing; the others are just clowns." That was He Yong’s doing; he drew the short straw backstage and had to play the villain to gain publicity for ticket sales.

Regardless of how effective it was, Dou Wei had shared in the profits, and he had offended half of the Hong Kong industry in one fell swoop.

At that dinner, despite being part of the same "Rock-Magic Rock" circle, Aaron Kwok hadn't said a single word to Dou Wei all night. Leslie Cheung, perhaps out of respect for Wang Fei—with whom he had a good relationship—had been somewhat hospitable toward Dou Wei and chatted for a bit.

But that wasn't the main issue. Business was just about making money, and a person who knew how to handle social situations would have made up for it long ago by marrying the popular Wang Fei.

The fact was, Dou Wei’s personality meant he would never actively cozy up to these money-obsessed Hong Kong artists. Deep down, he actually looked down on the decadence and vanity of the city. He just wanted to make money on his own terms; he had no desire to integrate.

The result was that Hong Kong newspapers and magazines mocked Wang Fei for marrying Dou Wei, rarely offering any blessings, often resorting to cold sarcasm instead.

That famous photo of Wang Fei getting up early in a Beijing hutong to empty a night-soil bucket was, in essence, a major act of mockery by the Hong Kong media—though in the photo, it was Dou Wei carrying the bucket!

Regardless of the fact that Wang Fei had long since obtained Hong Kong citizenship, her market and career were there, forcing them to live in the city, and Dou Wei had to follow.

That night’s scene was vivid—a table full of big shots and stars like Raymond Wong, Wong Jing, Tsui Hark, Nansun Shi, Derek Yee, Sylvia Chang, Ge Fuhong, Duan Zhongtan, James Wong, Lo Ta-yu, Leslie Cheung, Aaron Kwok, and Brigitte Lin. Any one of them could have eclipsed Dou Wei in terms of status. Wang Fei, having been famous for two or three years, could barely manage to appear composed among them. Yet, amidst the bustle, Dou Wei appeared exceptionally lonely and desolate.

Lin couldn't persuade him, nor did he intend to. Everyone had to live their own life.

They chatted for a while, agreeing to meet up when the couple returned to Beijing. However, there was a surprise: upon learning that Lin Jianlu would be there, Wang Fei had also invited her good friend Na Ying and her manager, Katie Chan.

Na Ying and Katie Chan were fine, but in the spirit of "guests shouldn't bring guests," Na Ying—perhaps feeling close enough to Wang Fei and wanting to act as the "big sister," or perhaps wanting to leverage Lin Jianlu’s fame to help out a "little brother"—had brought someone along without asking: Sun Nan, her fellow Northeasterner.

She didn't dare to be boisterous, as she had no prior relationship with Lin Jianlu, and his current fame—compared to her own two albums that sold only 60,000 or 70,000 copies—was insurmountable.

Still, she took the initiative to introduce Sun Nan, implying that the young man had a great voice—high, bright, and clear—and that they had known each other in Beijing. He had been in Hong Kong for nearly two years and had signed a label, but his sales were mediocre.

It was as if she were trying to pay it forward, the way Wang Fei had once helped her because she found her straightforward and cute. She felt Sun Nan was struggling and wanted to give him a hand.

However, this was the reality of the music industry.

Lin had heard from Zhang Peiren that even Na Ying was lucky to have Wang Fei’s unyielding support, which led to her being signed by Katie Chan and introduced to producers, eventually landing a deal with Cinepoly Records. Otherwise, she would have had a long wait for her break.

But just because Wang Fei was willing to help her didn't mean she wanted to help the next person. Besides, Sun Nan was already signed to a record label; what could they do?

So, as soon as Na Ying brought it up, Wang Fei looked visibly displeased, even if others didn't react.

But her relationship with Na Ying was genuinely close, and knowing her personality, she held her tongue.

Lin Jianlu, however, joked, "We're all friends. I'm going back to the capital the day after tomorrow. Let's stay in touch and grab a meal when we're all back there. Food is cheap in the capital; this pork knuckle rice here is way too damn expensive!"

Everyone laughed, and the topic was set aside.