Chapter Thirty-Six: Inhuman!

Just book the tickets and go.

After all, this is about making money! And it’s the kind of gig where you show up, perform for ten minutes, and collect the cash.

He has become quite valuable. During his previous commercial performances in Hong Kong, he typically sang one or two songs for anywhere between 100,000 and 120,000 Hong Kong dollars; with appearances added in, he barely reached 200,000. During his last promotional tour in Southeast Asia, Lin Jianlu had asked Ge Fuhong about his rates. She told him that the local offers in Southeast Asia were generally around 8,000 to 10,000 USD, which she had rejected. Unless the price point could be raised, she would rather not take the jobs.

Things are better now. He’s asking for 80,000 USD for two songs, post-tax. Lin Jianlu’s side bears no tax or legal risks; everything must be under contract—no under-the-table deals—with round-trip airfare and five-star hotel suites covered.

In the end, most deals settled around 50,000 to 60,000 USD per show.

He flew directly to Singapore to begin his money-making tour.

The requests were overwhelmingly for "Super Cool," with demands for dance routines. As for the second song, requests varied: some wanted "Fairytale," some "Ten Years," others "Brave Heart"—a mix of everything.

After a few shows, Zhang Aijia gave him a reminder, and Lin Jianlu realized it himself: he needed to hire some backup dancers. The performance effect was decent, and "Super Cool" was a huge hit in Southeast Asia. Notably, many non-ethnic Chinese were also enjoying the song, which significantly broadened the market far beyond just the ethnic Chinese audience. However, after performing a few times, Lin Jianlu noticed that relying solely on himself to sing and dance lacked a certain punch.

Hire them, then. He would hire them as soon as he got back.

He could even consider signing six to eight permanent dancers. At this current rate, even if he only toured a few times a year, the income would be in the millions of dollars.

How much could it possibly cost to support a few dancers!

Singapore to Bangkok, Bangkok to Kuala Lumpur, Kuala Lumpur to Jakarta, and Jakarta back to Hong Kong.

As it turned out, there was no such thing as privacy in Hong Kong. No sooner had he stepped off the plane than he was spotted by the paparazzi who permanently staked out the airport. The next day, the papers read: "Lin Jianlu Finds New Flame, Zhang Aijia Suspected of Infidelity!"

They claimed the two walked side-by-side out of the airport, looking exhausted from their travels and acting intimate. They even spun a ridiculous tale about the two spending several days in Bangkok together, allegedly having purchased a "love nest" abroad.

Wang Fei called him to mock him for ten minutes.

And a certain tall girl actually called him, acting silly, asking if it was true.

"Infidelity? What infidelity? Where would I find the 'track' to stray from?"

"How would I know if she cheated? She was just accompanying me to Southeast Asia to make money! She earned 40,000 to 50,000 USD—over 300,000 Hong Kong dollars—for one trip! There’s money to be made! ...You’re so crude!"

She took the scolding obediently.

Of course, Lin Jianlu was exaggerating slightly. Ge Fuhong arranged it, and Zhang Aijia accompanied him, so they split the fee, earning 24,000 USD each—but it really was only for four days!

Since her debut, Gigi Leung’s career had been smooth sailing, thanks to being heavily promoted. This was already her second film, and she had been nominated for Best New Performer. What was her salary for playing the second female lead in *Feel 100%*?

Only 120,000 Hong Kong dollars!

Ge Fuhong took a 30% cut, so how much did that really leave her?

Still, since she was so concerned, Lin Jianlu made a point to visit her on set the next day.

She seemed exceptionally happy.

Seeing Lin Jianlu suddenly appear, she straightened her neck like a proud swan in the blink of an eye. She very deliberately chatted with him warmly on the sidelines for several minutes, seemingly to show off to everyone on set—the Hong Kong media had been hyping up the idea that Lin Jianlu and she had fallen in love while filming an MV, and neither of them had denied it. Ge Fuhong had explained it was just a way to borrow some popularity.

When everyone shares the same agent, these are just standard operations.

***

Wong Jing was on set. After Gigi Leung finished showing off and they had shared a few whispered words, he sauntered over. Lin Jianlu laughed and gave him a hug.

They chatted for a few moments, and once the shot was wrapped, Wong Jing called a break and beckoned everyone over to greet him.

The film's investor was Best Partner Films, a company founded just this year. Wong Jing was the lead initiator and a shareholder, focusing on producing film adaptations of manga. His target audience was strictly young people under 25, and his debut project was *Young and Dangerous*, released earlier that year and directed by Andrew Lau.

*Young and Dangerous* was a massive hit, instantly catapulting Ekin Cheng and Jordan Chan to stardom. Before the first film had even finished its theatrical run, the second, *Young and Dangerous 2*, had already begun filming. By the time the second was released, it was still in theaters while the third, *Young and Dangerous 3*, had already been shot. Despite the massive box-office success of the first two, they drew widespread criticism from all walks of Hong Kong society. Consequently, they had urgently launched the manga-based romance film *Feel 100%*, intending to push it out once the third *Young and Dangerous* film had made its money, hoping to polish their image and turn the public opinion around.

After all, Chen Haonan is a romantic; he’s a good guy, not just someone who only knows how to kill and fight!

When it comes to treating filmmaking as a business, Wong Jing is an absolute expert.

The director of this film was Joe Ma. Ekin Cheng, who had become a massive sensation across Hong Kong with the *Young and Dangerous* films, was there, as was the female lead, Sammi Cheng. Gigi Lai happened to be visiting today as well, making a cameo.

After exchanging greetings and chatting for a while, Joe Ma asked a production assistant to help move the iced watermelons Lin Jianlu had brought, and everyone offered their thanks—it was the standard etiquette for a set visit.

Wong Jing, however, had sharp eyes. He caught a glimpse of Lin Xilei, and even though she was wearing a baseball cap, he seemed shocked, whispering, "Wow, is that your assistant?"

Lin Jianlu was surprised. "You haven't seen her before?"

"I hadn't noticed her until now!"

As he spoke, he gave a subtle thumbs-up and cast a meaningful glance toward Gigi Leung, a look that any man would understand—a "be careful" signal. Lin Jianlu waved it off. "You're overthinking it! I don't need to hide to pick up girls!"

Wong Jing burst into laughter.

"Damn! This handsome guy is truly heartless!"

***

Meeting clients.

Lin Jianlu’s so-called "eight shining minutes" on the runway became the catalyst.

The East Asian and Southeast Asian markets have always been highly valued by any company or product with international aspirations. In the past, the mainland market was inaccessible, but Hong Kong and Taiwan were highly developed. The Hong Kong entertainment industry held immense influence over Southeast Asia, and even Japan and South Korea, where individual stars carried significant weight. Therefore, brands large and small were very happy to use Hong Kong and Taiwanese stars for endorsements and advertising.

By now, the mainland had been open for over a decade. Especially in recent years, wealthy individuals in the mainland were increasing in number, and there was even a growing appetite for light luxury goods. However, the mainland still lacked a true entertainment industry and couldn't produce big-name stars with genuine commercial value. So, there was no choice but to rely on Hong Kong. Even though these stars couldn't sell movie tickets or legitimate albums in the mainland, they maintained powerful name recognition through piracy.

But that was the past.

As Zhang Aijia said, Lin Jianlu had suddenly popped out of the mainland.

In 1996, he established himself in the mainland, selling millions of legitimate albums, making him the undisputed top star. At the same time, he had seamlessly broken through in Hong Kong and Taiwan. Since the release of *Cold to the End*, he had become the top star in Hong Kong and Taiwan as well.

Furthermore, he possessed considerable influence and recognizability in several other countries across Southeast Asia, Japan, and South Korea.

This alone made him impossible to ignore for any international company eyeing this market. Moreover, his image was excellent—handsome, rugged, stylish, and trendy. Even though he was only twenty, he had never been limited to the image of a mere teen idol; he had become a powerhouse straddling both the teen idol and mature man demographics.

So...

Fashion, suits, footwear, men's light luxury, casual wear, sportswear, automobiles, watches, fast-moving consumer drinks, convenience foods, daily chemical products, health products, men's grooming, over-the-counter medicine... and so on.

Brands of all sizes—the kind other singers and actors spent years striving for in vain—were all suddenly knocking on his door.

According to Ge Fuhong, she was currently in contact with over eighty brands across seventeen categories, and the vast majority were top international names, all interested in signing Lin Jianlu as an endorser.

For instance, in the sportswear category, both Nike and Adidas.

But the sports-related interest didn't stop there; there was even a snowboard company looking for an endorsement!

It was said that many people in Hong Kong, Taiwan, and Southeast Asia loved to ski in Hokkaido, Japan, and there was a huge market demand for such products in those regions.

Lin Jianlu’s healthy, stylish, rugged, and talented image fit their needs perfectly.

Then there were the beverage brands. Beyond Coca-Cola and Pepsi, two mainland brands had also reached out: Jianlibao and Xurishang.

Beyond that, a mainland company called Golden Throat Lozenges had also made contact...

And fast-food chains like KFC and McDonald's...

In short, he had to meet them!

It’s business, it’s about making money, it’s about selling yourself!

As the saying goes, you have to let them see the goods in person, even if it’s just for a brief chat.

Of course, the prerequisite was that both sides were already close to an agreement.

On top of that, according to the schedule set by Ge Fuhong and Zhang Aijia, he had seven or eight exclusive interviews waiting for him, and if you counted the television program invitations, it brought the total to ten.

They were all carefully selected by the two of them to cater to various factions, as these outlets were the mouthpieces of the industry.

Lin Jianlu didn't really care, but since his managers deemed it absolutely necessary work, he was willing to put in the time to cooperate for the sake of his future retirement.

However, at that moment, a phone call from Taiwan completely disrupted his established work rhythm. Old Duan had called personally: the global sales statistics for *Cold to the End* had reached approximately 8.6 million copies, and Rock Records was preparing to officially announce that sales had surpassed 10 million!

They were also officially announcing their application to the International Federation of the Phonographic Industry for Diamond Record certification!

A diamond record—the global standard—required 10 million copies sold. It wasn't just made up; it had to be authentic, with clear shipping routes, distributors, and everything verifiable before they would grant certification.

Currently, the entire Chinese music market didn't have a single diamond record.

Artists occasionally boasted about their albums selling 10 or 20 million copies, but that was just to fool the fans, and industry insiders actually mocked it. Between Hong Kong and Taiwan, there were only about 30 million people, plus 20 million ethnic Chinese in Southeast Asia; the market population was only so large. How could you sell 20 million albums to 60 million people, or sell 10 million albums to non-Chinese speakers? It was a joke!

The list of the world's 100 best-selling albums was based on certified sales. Currently, the 100th place was at 9.8 million copies. Even Japanese albums had three entries on the list, but not a single Chinese one.

Those who boasted about selling 30 million copies didn't dare to undergo any certification process.

But with *Cold to the End*, Old Duan clearly had the confidence to play for real!

If *Cold to the End* received the certification, it would not only enter the list of the 100 best-selling albums but also become the first and only super-record in the Chinese music scene.

But clearly, it wasn't quite there yet. In Old Duan's words, "Apply now; by the time the actual certification process finishes, we'll have reached 10 million!"—Yes, that was very Old Duan, very Rock Records!

In short: get here fast!

Let's go blow our own horns together!